Arthur flicked on the radio as he drove down the street; nothing but static came across the radio as he flipped through each station in hopes of hearing something about what was going on. With a heavy sigh Arthur continued down the street until he came to a long line of traffic blaring their horns and yelling obscenities out of their windows at one another. Arthur rolled his own window down, letting the chill night air and noise into his car. He leaned out of the window and tried to get a better look down the street to see what was happening, but he couldn’t see a thing, just the tail lights of cars reaching into the distance down the crowded streets. At least he could be sure of one thing amongst the chaos of the traffic jam: he hadn’t imagined the message. 

It seemed as though the entire city had received it and decided to get out as well, but a good majority had beaten him here, so he couldn’t help but wonder how hastily they all had left their own residences. Had they even packed clothes or food or anything at all? Then again, as he looked over his own luggage and the gun resting in the passenger seat he felt as though he had overreacted to the situation. There was probably a perfectly logical reason for what was happening and no need for the firearm at all. He chuckled as he looked down at the snubnose and shook his head. It just seemed so ridiculous to him now he had time to sit and think about it. He was sure after waiting in the line of traffic that he would reach a sentry in some sort of military uniform who would direct him to some sort of safehouse location outside of the city where he would be held until whatever “crisis” had befallen the city was resolved.

Only, Arthur never reached the front of the line because a tank came clinking up from behind, crushing the other cars on its way toward him. With reflexes faster than expected of the scholar, Arthur managed to grab his backpack, briefcase, and gun before jumping out of the car. A second later the armored vehicle rolled right over the passenger side of his car, crushing it into a twisted hunk of metal and broken glass mixed with some upholstery from the seats. Arthur sat on the cold, wet sidewalk where he had managed to tumble to, the seat of his pants and coat soaking up the water underneath him and his mouth gaping at the sight before him. He had to shake his head to steady himself again before he could stand. His mind raced with trying to wrap around the situation.

[i]’What in the world is going on!? Why would they bring a tank in? Unless the situation is far worse than I thought at first. I have to get out of here, but where?’[/i]

Arthur looked around the street for some sort of route he could take to another way out of the city. He was brought out of his thoughts when a gunshot echoed around the street followed by screams; it sounded like it was a few blocks over from where he was. His curiosity fought for him to go and investigate the source of the gunshot, but his intelligence told him how unwise that would be. Instead, Arthur resigned to start walking down the street in the wake of the armored behemoth that had just destroyed his car. Halfway down the street, he finally got a decent view of the bridge beyond; the line of traffic continued on across the bridge, and the tank continued its slow approach from behind, but now Arthur could hear words coming from it as they drifted back to him on the crisp night air.

“Please exit your vehicles and remain calm. The city is under an immediate quarantine. Please exit your vehicles and return to your homes.”

[i]Quarantine? Why would they be quarantining us? What is going on!?[/i]

Panic rose in him again at the voice coming from the tank ahead. Arthur turned and made his way back down the street away from the bridge. He had to find another way out of the city, but where? He quickened his pace to a fast walk and turned down an alleyway to get away from the people who had flooded the streets and were making their way toward the bridge with some shred of hope like he had. He walked halfway down the alley and stopped to lean against the brick wall of a building with his head slightly bowed. He made an effort to slow his breathing and to think. He just had to think about what was going on, but he didn’t have that luxury; someone walked down the alley toward him.

Arthur looked up at the sound of the footsteps; he could just make out the silhouette of the person walking toward him. They seemed to have a much larger build than Arthur did, with wide shoulders and were a good head or two taller than him as well. They walked along down the alley slowly with heavy footsteps right up to Arthur. They only stood a foot or two away from him.

“You alright, mister?”

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

“You sure? You look pretty pale and kinda sick.”

“I’m fine. Really. Thank you. I have to get going,” Arthur said as he tried to walk past the person and onto the next block beyond, but when he barely took a step the man pulled a switchblade from nowhere and held it up pointed at Arthur.

“Glad to hear you’re alright, but I’m afraid I’ll be changing that. Give me anything of value you got. I’m gonna take advantage of this chaos. Now, hand anything you got over.”

Arthur was about to hand him everything he had, but then he remembered the book from the museum tucked away in his briefcase and the gun he had slipped into his jacket pocket after the tank had nearly crushed him. The man with the knife visibly grew impatient as he shook the knife.

“Have it your way. I thought we could do this the easy way, but you clearly need some convincing,” the thug took a step toward the scholar, and then Arthur pulled the gun on the thug and pointed it straight at his assailant’s chest. The mugger stopped, a look of surprise plastered on his face for a brief moment before it turned into a smirk then a smile and finally an all out chuckle directed at Arthur.

“You’re not going to shoot me. You don’t have the - .”

The sound of the gunshot reverberated off of the alley walls and bounced away into the night away from Arthur and the mugger. Arthur stood there with the smoking gun raised and held in both hands, his eyes shut tight and his teeth clenched tightly. He opened his eyes and looked down at the mugger lying on the floor of the alley with a hole in the center of his chest with blood pouring out of it; he was still alive, but just barely. His breathing was heavy and slow. Arthur slid down the wall of the alley, breathing heavily himself. He hit the ground and let his arm drop to each side of his body.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t give me any other choice. I… I had to,” Arthur was saying to the dying man as he slowly slipped away from the chaos of the city all around them. 

Arthur sat there, tears welling up and flowing down his face. He had just shot and killed a man, a man who had just tried to mug him yes, but still a man, another human being who had every right to live and maybe even a family he left behind.