The streets blur under my feet. I can’t look back. Don’t even think about it.

They’re close. I can hear them behind me, their steps too heavy to ignore. Every pound of my chest hurts with every breath, but I keep running. Keep moving. Because stopping? That means giving them what they want.

The air smells like rust and rot—too many years of the world falling apart. The streets used to be something, didn’t they? Streets full of life. People. But I wouldn’t know what it felt like back then. I was born into this mess, never knowing anything else. It’s hard to even imagine what it could’ve been like, before everything went to hell.

I round the corner too fast, the ground uneven beneath me. My foot slips on something slick. I barely catch myself. I can’t slow down. I won’t.

“Get back here!”

The shout breaks through the air, jagged. It’s too close.

I push harder, fingers digging into the strap of my bag, heart slamming against my ribs like it’s trying to break free. The alley up ahead, it’s narrow, but it’s my only chance.

Then—smack!

I crash into something solid.

For a second, I just stand there, stunned. Not moving.

A woman.

Her grip is like iron, grabbing my wrist so fast I don’t even know what happened. Her eyes are steady, like she’s not even fazed by the fact that I almost ran her over.

I don’t fight her right away. Can’t. I just stand there, staring at her. She’s an officer, I can tell by the uniform, the gun at her side. Those uniforms? They’re always here. Always watching. Always making sure we stay down, no matter how it’s done. Violence, threats, promises—doesn’t matter. They control us.

I don’t like her. Don’t like anyone like her. They destroyed everything. Took everything. They’re evil in my eyes—living their good lives while we, the Wastelanders, fall apart. They get to sleep in warmth, eat until they’re full, and drink clean water, while we fight for scraps, choking on the air, starving on the land we can’t even call home anymore.

I say nothing, just glaring at her. No words. She’s just another officer, after all. And the officers? They’ve never been on our side. They’re the ones who ruined it all. The ones who took everything, destroyed everything.

“You’re gonna have to let go,” I say, but my voice shakes. I hate how it sounds. Weak.

She doesn’t say anything at first. Just looks at me, like she’s waiting for me to do something. I don’t know what.

The sound of footsteps. Louder now.

Shit.

They’ve caught up. Too soon.

“Please,” I say, softer than I should, but the words fall out before I can stop them. “Let me go.”

The officer doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch.

I look over her shoulder, eyes scanning the alley, and there they are. The gang. Big, ugly faces, twisted with rage. They’re here. They’re going to tear me apart.

The officer steps in front of me, a wall of calm in the chaos.

One of them, the leader—he’s got that scar across his cheek, like a mark of pride—sneers when he sees us.

“What the hell?”

They stop in their tracks, confused for a second. Maybe they don’t know what to make of her. Maybe they don’t want to find out.

I can feel my heart trying to break out of my chest, and I’m stuck here, stuck between the gang and this officer, wondering what the hell is going to happen next.

But the officer? She doesn’t move. Doesn’t raise her gun, doesn’t say a word. She just stands there, still, like she knows they’re not going to touch her.

And they don’t.

The leader glares at her. At me. His jaw clenches, his fingers twitching like he’s going to lunge. But he doesn’t.

I don’t know if he’s scared of her or if he’s just too stupid to know what to do, but they turn. They leave. Just like that.

I stand there, shaking.

I want to run. I want to get away. But my legs are like jelly, and I can barely breathe.

The officer turns to me, like nothing just happened. Like everything is fine.

“You’re welcome,” she says, like it’s some kind of favor.

I can feel her eyes on me, but I don’t meet them. I can’t. There’s something about her, something cold in the way she looks at me. She doesn’t get it.

I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that.

I walk away, my feet moving before my brain can catch up. My skin still burns where she touched me.

The world around me? It’s still decaying. It’s still broken. Streets full of rust, a sky that’s too thick with smog to see the stars. People too hungry, too desperate to care about anything but the next fix, the next breath. It’s like we’ve all stopped living. Just trying to survive.

She’ll never understand that.

I’m not sure what I expected from her, but whatever it was, it’s not this.

But I know one thing for sure:

This isn’t over.