The only family he had was his fourteen-year-old sister, Callista. Everyone else was dead. Callista was literally a female version of their grandfather, physically and personality-wise. She had dark, Mediterranean skin, matched with gorgeous dark brown eyes. She had long, honey-colored hair that was always tied out of her face. The only thing she didn't have in common with her late grandfather was her height. While Jack usually towered over everyone he came across, Callista was a full head and shoulders shorter than most men and women. She was a firecracker of a person, quick to react, sharp of mind. So naturally, Callista was fuming by the time Thane got home.

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” she roared as soon as he stepped inside the broken door.

“Callista, I-”

“DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO MAKE EXCUSES. I HAVE BEEN BY MYSELF ALL DAY WONDERING IF YOU WOULD EVEN COME BACK! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW SCARED I WAS?”

“You don’t understand, I-”

“I DON’T UNDERSTAND? THANE, I UNDERSTAND YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME LIKE THAT! I CAN’T SURVIVE ON MY OWN!”

Thane grabbed his tiny sister by the elbows to keep her from hitting him.

“NO! THANE LET ME GO!” He squeezed her arms painfully so that she would stop struggling. She stopped. Callista glared at him with her deep brown eyes. “I thought-” her voice and composure broke. “I thought you were-”

“Shhhh, Callista,” Thane said, pulling his sister into his chest. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t. . .don’t do that to me. I couldn’t. . .I wouldn’t. . .people die every day Thane.”

Those cold blue eyes shoved their way behind Thane’s eyelids. He could see the striker, set to kill. “I know, Callista,” Thane said, choking on his own words. “Believe me, I know.”

“We could try to leave,” Callista said, hope filling her voice. She looked up at Thane, her long, honey-blonde hair coming loose from the piece of cloth she used to tie it back. “We could try to escape to Canada. It’s close enough.”

“What, and leave all this behind?” Thane gestured at the tiny brick room they called “home.” Callista laughed.

“We could make it, you know,” she said. “You and me. We could hide from the Governor’s watchers.”

“Callista,” Thane replied as gently as he could. “I think you know it’s impossible to leave. There are walls that separate the Moor from the rest of the world. We can’t escape.”

Believe me, I’ve tried, he thought to himself. 

Callista looked down at the dirty floor. “I know,” she said quietly.

Looking at his sister so sad with crushed spirits filled him with anger. He was angry at the stupid Governor, he was angry with the decisions the Governor made, he was angry with all the people who hurt others just because they could. It was wrong. And Thane couldn’t care less about what the Governor said concerning other people’s affairs. He was going to keep his promise to his grandfather. He wasn’t going to stop fighting until the Governor was gone.

“Come on, Callista,” Thane said. “Let’s go to bed.”

It was raining when they woke. Most people liked it when it rained; they saw it as a symbol of hope. But Thane hated the rain. It always leaked through the cracked plaster roof and woke him up early. He ran a hand through his wet curly hair.

“You’re soaked,” Callista pointed out.

“Thank you Captain Obvious,” Thane said with annoyance. He turned his back to her and stripped off his shirt. He dug around in a small chest before finding two sarks, water-resistant shirts that changed depending on the wearer’s environment. He threw one over to Callista then pulled the other over his head. It was a little cold inside, but it was better than the soaked shirt.

“I’m going out,” Thane said after he was fully dressed.

“Where?”

Thane shrugged. “Wherever. We need to eat, you know,” he said as Callista’s stomach rumbled. He smiled pointedly over his shoulder.

“You can’t go out today,” Callista said, ignoring his comment and tugging on her sark. She then grabbed a broken comb and began to run it through her long blonde hair.

“Why not?” Thane stopped with his hand on the door handle.

Callista turned back to him. “You don’t know? The Governor is coming to the East Quadrant today. You don’t want him to see a sixteen-year-old kid running around by himself. He’ll put you in Lax, the juvenile delinquent ‘orphanage,’ or something.”

Thane’s blood ran cold. The Governor. Here? But why?

“He’s coming to check our ‘progress,’ whatever that means. He’s already been in the West Quadrant, the North Quadrant, and the South Quadrant. I heard he’s just checking to make sure there’s nobody who wants to ‘meddle in other people's affairs,’” Callista said, using air quotes and rolling her eyes. She stared at Thane’s face. “You really didn’t know?”

Thane shook his head, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He turned toward his sister. “Callista,” he said hoarsely, “we. . .this is our chance, Callista. The Governor, he’s evil.”

Callista snorted. “No kidding,” she muttered.

“Callista.” Thane came over and grabbed her arms, forcing her to look at him.

“I really hate it when you do that, Thane,” she said, glaring at her older brother.

“Callista,” Thane said again, not letting go. “We could do something about his governing. You and I both know that this is wrong. He thinks everyone obeys him and everyone’s scared to change. Well I’m not scared.” He stared into Callista’s gorgeous brown eyes, Callista staring right back into his green ones. “I’m not afraid to stand up to him.”

“Thane are you talking about. . .killing the Governor?” Callista whispered, eyes wide.

“Well. . .” Thane’s voice trailed off, his mind back in the alley. He saw the girl’s body shaking and convulsing, the electricity coursing through her veins. He saw the killer calmly stepping over her dead being. Thane shook his head, shuddering at the thought of doing the same to someone else. “No, Callista,” Thane said finally. “Not kill, but we need to make sure he can’t reign the Moor; he can’t rule America anymore. We need to convince other citizens that he needs to be stopped.”

Callista studied her brother carefully. “But what if-?”

“It’s a possibility,” Thane agreed.

Callista inhaled sharply. “No. No, Thane. You can’t risk that. Why would you even want to?”

Thane let go of his sister and moved away. “Callista, I don’t want to risk that! You really think I want to put my life on the line? But something has to be done about this! We can’t let crime rule the streets. It’s wrong, Callista! It’s wrong to hurt someone just because you can. It’s wrong!”

“I know it’s wrong, Thane!” Callista shouted. “How could I think it’s okay?” Callista squeezed her eyes shut. “Thane. . .you’re all I’ve got. I can’t lose you too.”

Thane sighed, his anger whooshing out of him like air in a vent. “You won’t, Callista.” Thane stepped forward and hugged his little sister. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The rain was still falling as they made their way outside. The sky was greyer than usual, and the cold drizzle was far from refreshing. Thane’s sark, sensing the wetness in the air, expanded and began to grow pleasantly warm around his arms, back, and torso. Callista’s had done the same.

He kept a protective arm around Callista’s shoulders, fearful that someone might try to snatch her while he wasn’t looking. He glared at everyone who walked by, gripping his grandfather’s striker in his free hand, trying to send a message that they didn’t want to mess with him. But on the inside, Thane was terrified. He knew what he had to do, but that wasn’t what scared him. It was what might happen afterwards that made his heart beat faster and his breath shorten. What if he accomplished what he was trying to do? What then? Or even worse, what if he failed? No, he couldn't think of that. He felt Callista squeeze his hand on her shoulder, and he smiled down at her gratefully.

“Which way, Callista?” Thane asked.

“He’s going to be at the Forum,” Callista replied, glancing nervously behind her. “At least, that’s what Zara said last time I was there.”

“Zara, the knick-knack seller?” Thane said.

Callista nodded. “She said that the Governor was going to give a speech on the benefits of the Moor, or something stupid like that.”

“And he wanted to do it where the most people would be,” Thane finished. Callista nodded again.

It took them about thirty tics to reach the Forum. They never had to fight anybody off, and the striker didn’t have to be used, so Thane was in semi-good spirits.

The Forum, originally called Times Square, was basically the black market capital of the East Quadrant. Venders and traders from all over the Moor passed through the Forum, peddling and making as much money as possible before their highly-coveted travel permit expired. Most of the tall buildings surrounding the Forum were knocked down, leaving sheets of steel, different types of cloth material, and glass encasing the streets in a very unstable kind of dome. Some parts of the Forum were clear of such debris, but most were surrounded by wreckage. The streets were lined with booths and stands, each one filled with different things to sell. People wandered and drifted between them, buying food and other items like strikers and sarks. In the middle of it all, right in the center of the Forum, was a large platform created with plywood and other scraps of metal. A huge screen was positioned above the stage, allowing viewers from afar to see the speaker. Amplifiers were placed at the edges of the theater, and a microphone was set in the center of the platform.

“That’s where he’ll be,” Callista said. Thane turned to face her. She was pale, and her eyes never left the platform.

“Hey,” Thane said gently. Callista looked at him, tears filling her brown eyes. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

“But what if-?”

“Callista, all I have to do is go up there and talk, right? What’s the worst that could happen? People throwing rotten fruit at me?”

Callista smiled and sniffed. “Be careful.”

“I will,” Thane said. “Go find Zara and stay with her. I trust her. Take this with you.” Thane handed her the striker. “Don’t be afraid to use it if you have to.”

“But what about you?” Callista pleaded. “You’re going to need it more than me!”

Suddenly, horns blared, and the national anthem played from the speakers on stage. Out of the corner of his eye, Thane could see the Governor’s watchers emerging. He shoved the striker into his sister's hands. “Go, Callista!” he shouted. Hearing the urgency in his voice, Callista turned, and was gone in a flash of blonde.

“People of the East Quadrant!”

Thane turned, heart in his throat. The Governor had walked up to the microphone. He was wearing his signature white suit and tie and held a device that controlled the screen in his hands. His dark eyes glittered maliciously, and he smirked like he was about to do something amazing.

“Yes, yes, gather around!”

People had begun to leave their booths and were crowding around the stage, eager to see the Governor. It wasn’t long before Thane was squished between bodies, pushed and shoved in every direction. He could only hope that Callista was hidden somewhere safely, and that Zara wasn’t a crazy old woman who would leave if it came down between her life and Callista’s.

“As you all know,” The Governor continued, “we have recently celebrated the eighty-fifth year of freedom.”

How is he still so young looking? Thane wondered as he elbowed his way towards the stage. The man must be over ninety years old.

“To celebrate this momentous occasion-”

“STOP!” Thane yelled, interrupting the Governor and stepping onto the platform. “Stop.”

The Governor stared at Thane. Clearly, no one had ever dared to stop him before. Thane took a deep breath and tried to stand as tall as he could. He noticed that the screen above was showing his picture. He attempted not to blush, but he could feel the pinkness creeping up his neck and face. He cleared his throat.

“People listen to me. This man-” Thane pointed to the Governor. “This man has been deceiving us.” There were astonished murmurs in the crowd. Did he say that? Did he just insult the Governor? The Governor was just as shocked. He attempted to regain his composure, but Thane spoke before he got the chance.

“Look around you,” Thane said. “What do you see? ‘The Moor,’ as we now call it. Do you see ‘The Land of the Free?’ Do you see ‘America?’ No! We see people hurting others just because they can. We see people stealing, cheating, lying, hurting, and why? Because there is no right! There is no wrong! This place used to be beautiful. But the beauty was taken away from us by him.” Thane pointed again to the Governor who was glaring at him with so much hatred, it almost hurt. “It wasn’t perfect, I agree. But then again, the most breathtaking places aren’t always perfect, either,” Thane said, remembering his grandfather. “Police officers protected us. They kept us safe. The Governor took that away from us when he endorsed the Dismissing!”

“Okay, young man, that’s enough.” The Governor had stepped towards Thane, steel in his eyes. He turned toward the people and forced a laugh. “Kids these days, eh?” Thousands of eyes stared back at him; none were laughing. Some looked angry. The Governor turned back to Thane, eyes now blazing. “Exit the stage now or you will be removed by force.” Thane noticed two watchers creeping closer to the platform, strikers in hand.

“No,” Thane replied. He turned back to the audience. “No!” he shouted. “We can’t let the Governor tell us what to do anymore. We can’t let him make our decisions and fight our fights. He is the reason that our world is collapsing before our eyes. He is the reason that trash litters the streets, the reason that we live in fear!”

“Is it true, Governor?” an onlooker asked quietly.

“Of course not!” the Governor said with forced cheerfulness. “This young man is obviously just angry that the East Quadrant is a little bit more destroyed than other Quadrants. Just a few minor accidents, that’s all, folks. The boy will leave now.”

“That’s not true Governor!” another voice shouted from the crowd. “I have a travel permit and I have been to other Quadrants. All are destroyed! Some worse off than this!”

“What I meant was-”

“He is the reason that our world crumbles!” Thane interjected. He was not going to give up without a fight. “Yesterday I witnessed an innocent life being taken from this world. She was beaten, screaming for mercy. Then she. . .she was killed. People just walked by, not even caring as she cried out for the last time! Tell me, is it right to stand by while someone is dying before your eyes? Is it okay to just let that happen? I tried to help but-”

“But you were attempting to disobey my orders,” the Governor interrupted, motioning to his watchers. “I have clearly stated that you are not to meddle in other people’s affairs. I am afraid you will now have to be dealt with.” More murmurs in the crowd. Thane saw that the people were growing restless.

“Leave him alone!” someone shouted as the watchers stepped on the stage.

“Look at our world!” Thane shouted, the watchers grabbing his arms. More yelling and jeering from the assembly of people. “Look around you! Do you want to live in this? Do you want to live without protection and safety?”

The first blow from the striker fell hard on his shoulder. Thane screamed as the energy entered his body, frying his nerves and causing his muscles to contract. He fell, writhing in pain and gasping for breath. With difficulty, he turned to his knees just as the second blow came, piercing his ribs. A third in his stomach. His body began to convulse, and he screamed because of the pain. He heard someone yelling his name, but the sound was distant, and tinny. He opened his eyes long enough to see the crowd rushing the stage, clawing at the Governor and the watchers. Someone stepped on his hand. Those familiar dark brown eyes filled his vision just as the fourth blow struck his temple. The pain was so agonizingly intense as he felt the electricity rush towards his heart. He could feel it tear and he screamed once more, then he felt nothing.

Fifteen years later. . .

            “Wow, what happened after the old Governor was captured, Mama?” six-year-old Arcadia asked, staring up into her mother’s dark brown eyes. Her mother smiled sadly, remembering that awful day.

            “He was badly hurt, because of all the people who tried to kill him. The people decided not to end his life and do the right thing. He received medical attention, then was imprisoned for the rest of his life.”

            “And the police force was restored, right Mama?”

            The mother smiled again, this time warmly, and ruffled her daughter’s curly brown hair. “I’ve told you this story before, Arcadia,” she said teasingly. “You know how it ends.”

            “Aw, please Mama?” Arcadia asked, hanging onto the edge of her mother’s police uniform. “Please finish the story!”

            “Alright, only because you asked so nicely.” The woman sighed. “The people realized that their world was unprotected and evil. Out of their will to do good, the law was restored, and we policemen and women began to uphold it.”

            “Because Thane wanted to do good. Because he saw the evil first?” Arcadia asked.

            “Exactly,” the woman replied. “And now we are safe again.”

            “I wish I could’ve met Uncle Thane,” Arcadia said wistfully.

            Callista smiled. “You look just like him,” she said, looking into her daughter’s green eyes. “He would’ve been a very proud uncle. Now off to bed with you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

            “‘Night, Mama!”

            Callista grinned at her daughter fondly. She glanced at the striker Thane had given her on the day he was killed. She remembered swearing over his grave that she would ensure no one would meet the same end that he had. She pinned her Chief-of-Police badge onto her uniform and tied the striker onto her belt. “Very proud,” she said again, looking out the window and at the new buildings touching the clear sky.