The List

The moon shines brightly over the tops of the burned out buildings surrounding me. The icy wind bites into my skin through my thin, pathetic winter coat, but Angelo’s hand on mine warms me. As we race through the labyrinth of alleyways, the buildings seem to close around us, trapping us like insects in a bowl. The musty smell of cheap cigarettes drifts through the air, and I can hear crying from an apartment above me.

But none of that matters.

We stop briefly at a stairwell, hidden deep within the shadows. This is no time to be found- well past midnight, in the pitch black. Though these parts of the city seem empty and forgotten, they are well populated by characters that hide deep within the dark shadows. I wanted to get home an hour ago, but the toxic combination of drinks and the music of the dive bar convinced me to stall a little while longer. Glancing around at the skeleton-like buildings, I begin to wish that I hadn’t had that last beer. But then I glance over at Angelo, and my smile returns.

Angelo easily jumps to the landing of the fire escape, catching hold of the ledge and pulling himself up. Years of running and hiding have made this easy for him. Then he pulls himself onto his stomach and reaches down for me. I grab his hands tightly and he pulls me up next to him. We let our feet swing over the side of the ledge, sitting close together and panting softly, catching our breath.

“I love you, Lyra,” Angelo mumbles as I open my fist. I’ve been holding the necklace so tightly that the design is embedded into my palm. I stole it when we left the bar, passing by a dilapidated jewelry store. I don’t regret it- no one buys this junk anymore, anyway. It has a silver chain, with three charms- a sun, for the Futures, a star, for the aliens, and an Earth, for the humans.

But the little charms remind me of what lies outside of my life. The Futures, the time travelers. When they got here fifty years ago, they explained that their world, our future, was polluted, run down, and uninhabitable. Only the richest of them had come to safety. Then they had promptly overthrown our government, taking the choice positions for themselves and leaving humans in other spots, to make the public believe that this wasn’t a dictatorship.

And then the aliens. They arrived a little after the Futures, weary and weak from their journey here after abandoning a dying planet. We had expected invaders, we had gotten refugees, who just wanted a chance at life. The Futures weren’t happy about it, and proceeded to make life hell for them.

And the humans? Well, we struggle to stay alive. Struggling to keep our history, to keep our species from being erased. For now, a fragile peace remains, lightly coating the tension that has risen between Future, alien, and human. And here in the city, the tension is as thick as ever.

I look back at up at Angelo, giggling.

“Do you love me?” I ask him, staring into his deep blue eyes. “Or do you love this?” I let the necklace hang by the chain, waving it in front of his face. His eyes follow the pendulum, never taking his eyes off of the jewels.

“It’s beautiful...” he breathes softly, making a grab for it. I tut, holding it a little farther, so that he can’t take it.

“What’s beautiful?” I tease him. His eyes continue to follow the motion of the chain, as I move it front of my face. Then I slowly put it down, so that he’s looking straight into my eyes, and kiss him lightly on the lips.

"You’re beautiful...” he slurs, staring at me dreamily. I giggle.

“And you are drunk,” I chide him, like a parent. Angelo grins, leaning against the brick wall and looking at me with that look of his. The one that tells me that I am the most important girl in the world. The one that is my entire world. Angelo takes the necklace gently from me, and clasps it behind my neck. It is a stark contrast to my ragged black clothes.

“You’re...drunk,” he mumbles sleepily. I tap him on the nose, and we both explode into laughter.

It’s in moments like these when the world seems to grind to a halt. When everything seems so perfect that it seems like everything else is just background noise. My brother, our money, the bitter cold. It seems like the world is a movie playing just for us, and no other plotlines are happening right now except for me and him. Us, together.

I’m so lost in his eyes that I don’t hear the telltale taps of dress shoes against the pavement. But Angelo does, instinctively leaning back into the shadows. I follow suit, my breath catching into my throat. Who would be wearing dress shoes at this time of night? And who would be making this much sound? I lean into Angelo as he puts an arm around me.

“I won’t let them give you any trouble,” he promises me with that reckless grin on his face. I give him another quick kiss, as the footsteps grow nearer.

“Please!” someone screams. “Please, somebody help me!” I furrow my brow. Maybe this person is a threat. But what could be dangerous is what they perceive as a threat.

Angelo doesn’t seem to think he’s a threat, as he casually crawls to the ledge and swings his feet over, putting himself in full view of the person. Not wanting to be outdone, I do the same. The person screaming is a boy, no older than me, but much smaller than Angelo. He’s a Future, no doubt. Shiny dark hair, combed to both sides. Startling green eyes and pale skin. He wears a button down shirt, though it has an unbuttoned overcoat over it. His shoes, black dress shoes, are obviously not made for running. The boy is exhausted, clearly he’s been running for a while. His face is red, and his eyes are wild. I almost feel sorry for him.

Almost.

I’ve never felt sympathy for Futures, no matter how helpless they seem to be. The Futures are time travelers, taking over our country, our world, our homes, just because they can. You see them walking down the roads, looking like they own the place. In reality, every person they pass wants them dead. This boy has never felt the pangs for hunger, never huddled in the cold. The necklace I hold seems to burn against my skin. He could buy this on a whim, not steal it from a store in the dead of night. He is everything I’m not and could never be.

“What’s your name, kid?” I ask him.

He looks terrified. “M-my name’s Eli. Please, you’ve got to help me. They’re-”

“Who?” I ask casually.

“The Solars!” he screams back at me. That gets my attention. The Solars are a ruthless street gang, made up of displaced aliens, angry about the world they’ve been given. They don’t bother us humans much, but a Future? They’ll rip him to shreds.

I look to Angelo, but Angelo is as cool as ever. “And just what would some grimy old aliens want with you?” he asks in a singsong voice.

Eli starts getting angry at our calm composition. “This isn’t a joke! Please- my name is Eli Baran- I’m Perci Baran’s brother. He’s the leader of the Lighters!”

My heartbeat speeds up. We need to leave. If this kid is telling the truth, even if we don’t get caught by Solars, he could send his Future cronies after us. The Lighters are a rival street gang, made up of wealthy Futures with too much time on their hands. But they’re deadly nonetheless.

I pull on Angelo’s sleeve, urging him to leave, but he doesn’t do anything, just smiles that cocky grin down at the boy.

“Get on, Future!” he calls down. The kid keeps pleading, but Angelo jumps down, with me following closely behind. “Do you want to do this the hard way?”

Eli is getting hysterical. “Please, just help me! I can’t-”

“Scram.” Angelo pulls out his switchblade, a thing of beauty he stole from a pawnshop years ago. He pops out the blade, and Eli seizes up at the sight of it. “Easy way, or the hard way?”

Eli chooses the easy way, scrambling off into the maze of alleys. Angelo tucks the blade back into his pocket, and turns back to me with a smile on his face.

“Got to get rid of the kids somehow,” he chuckles. I nervously smile as he kisses me again, though I’m still on edge. Whoever is chasing Eli- “Hey, Lyra.” Angelo takes my chin in his hand. “There’s nothing to worry about. It’s all fun and games, remember?”

Something about his sweet, cocky grin makes my spirit come back. I laugh, hugging him. “Just karma, Angelo. That’s all I’m worried about,” I say jokingly. But the sight of that switchblade in the darkness still frightens me. I’ve trusted Angelo for years, ever since he joined us at the garage after running away from home. When the others kids seemed so grown up and wise, Angelo was there, being the child I needed him to be. We grew up together, sharing food and money and shelter. Sure, he joked about killing the Futures and the aliens that he detested so much. But he wouldn’t.

I’m sure he wouldn’t.

We continue through the alleys, slower and less careful this time. It’s eerily quiet, and we hold hands and slowly make our way through.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Lyra?” Angelo asks me, stopping.

I look down, ashamed of my fear.

“It’s the switchblade, isn’t it,” he guesses. “Lyra, it’s okay. It’s just for show. I’d never actually hurt-”

“Put the blade down,” says a smooth, deep voice from the darkness. I instantly grab Angelo, as shadowy figures emerge from all around us.

“Show yourselves, and maybe I will,” Angelo says lazily. I love his sense of humor and coolness, but not in this situation!

The voice reveals itself to be a young man, with tousled light brown hair, dressed in an overcoat. Bright green eyes stare at me. From the darkness comes six other guys, dressed just like him. Their perfect appearance means one thing- Futures.

“Put down the blade,” the guy says again, and I see the glint of a silver gun that he is holding. I whimper a bit, urging Angelo to put the blade down. His switchblade is nothing against these Futures. They’d shoot him to death, and then turn their attention to me- no, I won’t let him do this!

“Please!” I cry, to no one in particular. But nobody moves.

This standoff lasts for a minute or so, with neither side budging. Seven guns are trained on us, while Angelo arrogantly brandishes a small knife that could maybe slice through the air before a shot would instantly kill him.

Finally, after what seems like forever, Angelo chuckles and drops his knife, placing his hands into the air. I tightly hug him, before he gently pushes me away to turn to the Futures.

“All right- what do you want?” he yawns.

The Future glares back at him. “We saw you talking to Eli- chasing him off,” he explains. All seeing, Supreme Beings, an old nursery rhyme about Futures used to go. They’ll watch you when you’re sleeping, they know what you are dreaming.

“Please, we didn’t mean anything- we were afraid!” I squeal, all too aware of the guns trained on me.

“What’s your name?” the lead Future asks softly.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” Angelo retorts. I start to cry again. This is hopeless- I shouldn’t have let him drink so much, it’s all my fault!

But the Future only laughs. “My name is Tyr Lynx,” he says calmly. “And you are going to tell me why you chased Eli off, or I am going to shoot you.” He smiles coldly. “I’m going to shoot you, and then I’m going to shoot your pretty little girlfriend.”

I bury my head in Angelo’s coat. “Tell them, tell them that we didn’t mean to!” I whisper, getting hysterical.

By Angelo doesn’t listen. “I’m not afraid of you guys!” he laughs. “Your precious little pipsqueak was breathing my valuable air. I couldn’t let that happen!”

“Angelo!” I shout at him, and turn back to the Futures, with the look of a startled deer in my eyes. “Please, he’s drunk, we’re tired. Just let us go, and I promise we won’t cause any trouble.”

Tyr Lynx steps forward, the glint of murder in his eyes. “And how do I know that? How do I know your boyfriend won’t cause any trouble?”

I stare at him, frozen, too terrified to speak. There is another standoff. The guns are trained on us. Angelo stares at Tyr Lynx in the face, and Tyr Lynx stares at me. I can’t breathe- all of my breaths catch in my throat and suffocate me.

And then finally, Tyr Lynx puts his hand up, and the guns go down.

“Alright, I’m done playing with you,” he decides, stepping back. “You look like a nice girl. Go on your way, and promise not to do anything stupid.”

I nod fervently.

“What’s your name, girl?” Tyr Lynx asks me.

I manage a small smile, with relief. “Lyra- I’m Lyra Garou.” I take Angelo’s hand. He looks annoyed to be off the hook, to have lost to these Futures. “I promise, we won’t cause any more trouble. We’ll go right home.”

I expect Tyr Lynx to move out of our way, but he doesn’t budge. He just smiles that murderous smile. I furrow my brow.

“Lyra Garou,” he repeats quietly. “You don’t deserve to have been born a human. I can see a Future in you- not a filthy street rat.” My heart picks up speed as the glint in his eyes grows.

Then he turns to Angelo.

“But your boyfriend,” he muses. “He annoys me.”

And with that, he raises his arm, and shoots Angelo through the chest.