The Sins of the Light Part 2: Tales Beyond the Darkest Desert

In a just world the City of Savoria wouldn’t even exist. The whole concept of a private corporation owning an entire city has always stayed in strange sci-fi books my big brother Malcolm would read to me. Books about evil corporations creating modern slavery in its citizens who are brainwashed into thinking they are good guys spreading their wealth to “lesser folks.” That and with lots and lots of rich luxuries.

I mean what ego feeding can’t buy, money always will. Always has.

Whatever, its not like I owe any of these fuckers a God damn thing. Not after this whole city turned on my family. Get on OPI’s bad side and you and everyone you love will vanish. Framed for some bullshit crime drummed up by OPI’s personal occupying military, the PPD, then stuck in one of the Circles of Salvation where they throw all the caught undesirables of Savoria.

Well at least Malcolm saw to his own by making the Black Sea. Even if he’s gone a little overboard lately.

He’s changed ever since freeing One.

“Yo, Raven! You good?” a deep menacing voice says. Well, I bet he thinks it sound menacing. But he’ll always be my dumb kid brother, Travon.

Damn, it’s just us! He didn’t use my real name. It’s been so long since someone called me Isabelle. I miss it.

I turn around and just as I suspected, Travon and his fresh growth spurt at age seventeen standing now at six foot six looms over me as if he is trying to act all grown. His short tight braids, dark brown skin and street urchin tough build would be intimidating to just about anyone else.

But not me. Especially when I know he failed eighth grade three times before just dropping out of school.

Not that I’m too much better. I made it junior year before I saw the writing on this corporate owned hellscape wall.

I suppose I have been staring off lost in my own thoughts for a hot minute now. Something that pretty white cop lady said is really bothering me.

***

As I walked around my neighborhood in Northside, the warehouse and manufacturing district for the city of Savoria and its corporate owner Original Products Incorporated, I noticed an odd sight. An SPD detective lady, pretty as snow with fiery red hair and a hot waist-length red leather jacket, walked up to the fifteen foot chain-link fence leading into Circle of Salvation One, cut an opening and slipped through.

That’s some sus shit. Better make sure this thug doesn’t hurt anybody.

I quickly pull up my hood on my zip-up black hoodie, tighten my black leather combat boots, tuck my phone into my black skinny jeans and slip into the shadows as Malcolm taught me.

She didn’t bother to fasten the cut chains back together to hide her tampering. Amateur, but it makes following her that much easier. My body nimble moves from shadow to shadow along the late evening lit streets.

Even in this beautiful sunset light, the building in Circle of Salvation One are a depressing sight. Most windows are boarded up or riddled with bullet holes. All buildings are falling apart if not already a pile of rubble.

Any that have solid foundations are filled to the brim with people. Their clothes barely better than rags, bodies scarred with needles, cuts and broken bones.

The further I walk into the circle, the worse it gets. People that are strong enough to work do forced labor in the factories, and those that refuse join a local gang. Some may even be lucky enough to be recruited to one of Savoria’s major gangs, the Apocalypse or the Moore Family. But since they are located in Westside and Eastside respectively that is a very rare opportunity.

Lucky for these folks Circle One is in Northside, our territory.

Man, this place gets worse and worse every time I visit. I should tell Malcolm. Maybe its finally time we start to fight back again! Travon and I are old enough and strong enough to help him now! It’s what he’s been training us for after all. I’m sick of seeing my people used and discarded like this. We all deserve to be free from OPI’s shackles!

I look up after getting lost in my own thoughts as per usual. The SPD lady is still standing outside a half standing building. She looks like she is anxiously waiting for someone.

A corrupt cop. Typical. But I’ll catch it all on video and use it to blackmail her. Then we’ll finally have a cop on the inside of SPD at least.

I pull out my phone and about to hit record when I see a person emerge from the shadows of the alley behind the cop.

She turns around, sees him and goes for the twin guns in her hidden holsters, but at the last second she stops.

“Please, sir! I don’t wanna hurt you so go about your business!”

But he can’t hear her. All he sees is someone that probably has money for drugs, and so he charges at her.

She goes for her guns again and starts to draw what looks like two desert eagle handguns. One black the other white. But the guy gets to her too fast and tackles her to the ground. The force of the impact sends the both guns flying from her hands.

He has her pinned. His desperation fueling his strength, he wails erratically at her chest and head. She manages to get her guard up, but she won’t last long if anyone else gets in on the beating. I see other people begin to creep out of their holes.

Damnit! No one deserves to die like this! Not even an SPD thug!

My legs move before I can think of how to help. I’ve never moved so fast before in my life. I can feel a strange energy begin to fill my muscles and for a second I thought I saw a feint orange aura around my hands.

The black gun is right by my feet now. I reach down and pick it up with the intention of threatening him off the SPD detective, but as soon as my right hand wraps around the handle that same orange aura surrounds my hand and the rest of my body.

No one deserves to live like slaves! This city is decaying while the OPI execs continue to get fatter off the citizens slave labor!

I hear the sound of boots stomping on pavement. The PPD is on its way to “maintain the peace.” I see their signature black helmets that covers their whole head so no one can identify them beyond the logo “PPD” plastered on their body armor.

The clicking of safety’s being turned off on their assault rifles snaps my attention away from the guy still attacking the SPD detective.

She is shouting “I’m SPD don’t shoot!” But I can feel their blood lust somehow. Like my whole mind is tuning into the emotions of others around me.

I can feel PPD’s unquenchable thirst for violence, the addict’s agonizing hunger, the SPD detective’s determination to live, and my own anticipation.

There are too many of them. Even if I run now, the bullets of their guns will spray this whole street. I’ll get tagged no matter how fast I am now. What do I do?

I am afraid.

Afraid of the injustice of the situation.

Afraid that I’ll never be able to be part of the uprising against OPI.

Afraid that my story is going to end here because of a stupid impulse decision to follow this cop and then try to help that cop when she got her dumb ass in trouble.

Afraid that I’ll never be able to show Travon a better world beyond Northside.

Afraid that Malcolm will be disappointed with how I died.

No. I won’t die here! I just have to use this fear. Focus it. Make it work for me. Listen to the movement of the guns. Watch their fingers. Be ever vigilant against those that wish to end my life and the life of those I wish to protect.

As I think this, the feint orange aura around my hands focuses around my eyes and ears. It solidifies and becomes a rustic red-orange. I see the possible movements of my enemies. My right hand points the black gun at the PPD soldiers.

“Fierce Focus!” I shout as I squeeze the trigger. The bullet comes flying out of the chamber. I can see that same red-orange aura wrap around the bullet as it guides it to my target.

Right through the heart of a PPD soldier.

Don’t let up. Make them pay for every life they’ve taken!

I see the possible trajectory of their bullets in wisps of my red-orange aura. My body moves perfectly ahead of each bullet aimed at me.

Then I fire the gun four more times. Each one piercing a PPD soldiers heart perfectly while I weaved the onslaught of bullets.

They each fall to the ground dead.

Then one last shot at the guy attacking the cop.

I graze his calf enough to hurt and slow him down a lot but not enough to significantly hurt him. He shrieks in pain and surprise as he dashes back down the alley.

The SPD detective gets to her feet quickly as she rolls and picks up the white twin to the gun I’m holding.

She looks at me and says “Thank you, Isabelle.”

No one should know I’m alive let alone my name. Isaac Anderson saw to that by erasing my family’s legacy from history.

“Who are you?” I ask as I direct the gun to her.

“Just someone who knows how important you and your family are to the city.” Her piercing emerald green eyes tell me that she is not lying to me.

“No one knows my family!” I yell as I click the safety off again.

“You are a Knight, right? Daughter of Abraham Knight specifically. The co-founder of OPI and the city of Savoria.” The detective puts away her gun.

I lower mine.

“Again, who are you?” I ask more urgently. I can’t believe someone in Savoria knows my family’s name!

“My name is Charlene Lightwell. I represent a budding new movement that will change the very structure of Savoria” she says like she is trying to sell me something.

Charlene then gives a more genuine smile and says “Oh and also thank you and saving me, Isabelle.”

“So what? You are here to recruit me?”

“If that’s what you want to think of it as, yes!” Charlene says.

“You ain’t making a lick of sense!” This lady is pissing me off.

“Life often doesn’t make sense until one day it just does. We all walk in the dark until someone turns on the light.” Charlene starts to strut around me.

“So I suppose you are the one to show me the light?” Typical white savior shit. I don’t need nobody ‘cept my family and Zoe.

“You showed yourself the light, Isabelle. My father merely presented you a situation that would hasten your awakening” she says with a matter of fact tone.

“My awakening? What the Hell are you talking about, lady!?” Do other people have powers like mine? How many could there be?

“It doesn’t matter. You did exactly what he said you would in this situation.” She walks up to me. “And that was saving a life you perceived as helpless.”

“Wait a damn minute! How could your dad possibly know that even if he knows my family’s name?! Stop beating around the bush! Answer me!” This whole situation doesn’t make sense. Was it really all a set up by Charlene’s dad? How could he possibly predict I’d save her? Or that I’d wake up whatever new power has stirred inside me.

Charlene gives me a quick laugh as she says “All in good time, Isabelle. But for now you have a job to do.”

“I ain’t doin’ shit until you give me some god damn answers!” I shout as I point the black gun at her head.

“That is, of course, your choice to make. But you will be leaving behind a destiny not even you can fathom.”

“I’ve seen what believing in destiny does to a person. I ain’t about to let that happen to me. I make my own destiny.”

“Then the name Raven really is perfect for you” Charlene says with a bit of sass. “After all, ravens are known for solving their own problems with no help except the tools provided to them.”

“Is that what this power is? A tool for me to use?” It’s that or a curse from the devil to further damn me.

“Perhaps, or maybe this is all for naught. Only time will tell. Keep the gun for now. You’re gonna need it where you are going.”

“And where am I going?”

“To the White Lotus Casino and Nightclub if you want to grow that new power of yours even stronger! There you’ll meet another SPD detective probably cussing my name out and eager to track me down.” She begins to walk away.

“And what am I supposed to do when I find him?”

Charlene walks away into the shadows.

“Remember, Isabelle. There is a right and wrong way to free the city. Would you do anything differently than your big brother?”

“Hey! Get back here!” But when I run after her she is nowhere to be found.

***

“Hey! Raven! I asked if you good?! Are you listening to me?” Travon’s voice snaps me back to reality.

“Yeah I’m good, Drake. Just don’t know what I’m looking for here.” I look around see the bustling nightlife outside of the White Lotus in Eastside. It’s sickening grandiose design jutting into the black night sky. So this is the infamous secret base of the Moore Family. Pretentious and powerful.

“You said that lady told you to meet another SPD thug? Why are we helping the cops now?” Travon raises his fist in defiance.

“Yeah well there is a lot of them here if you couldn’t tell! And because I say so! Triton would kill us if we had the opportunity to get an inside man with the SPD and didn’t take it.” I say.

Outside the entrance to the White Lotus is littered with SPD uniformed officers. At that moment I hear someone scream from above. A black man wearing an SPD detective badge. He dangles from the window up high and about a minute later he is flung from the window like a rag doll off about a two hundred feet away.

Impossible for any strong wind.

He falls faster towards the ground then a black and red aura catches him before he hits. Then he is slammed down and passes out.

“Well I guess we found him.” I say.

Then I feel the same blood lust from earlier. The PPD is coming.

I have to get there first.

The same orange aura surrounds my body and I feel my body run faster than ever as I grab ahold of Travon along the way.

We are in front of the SPD detective in a few seconds. He is a black man about Malcolm’s age.

“Let’s get him out of here before more people come. Carry him, Drake!”

And the three of us set off into the shadows of the city.

Whatever destiny Charlene was talking about is probably right around the corner.