New Year's Mission
Dreamed on 2020.01.02
We get the call to move out, and it startles us, but we do it. High energy, but focused, like a wolf pack, dressed in black.
"This block?"
"Naw, next. Some cabs. 010, I think is one of the numbers?"
We run to the next. An uber, some cabs, and a small bus are pulling in. People are hopping in places, but we ignore the bus; they just want in on the action. I see a guy I know -- the older one, angular face, more... I don't know, South American features? -- I get in the same car as him.
"Where we headed, cabbie?"
"You know I can't say; security feature. I can confirm the code on your phone though."
"I don't have the code, don't have a phone; just was told to get in."
Cabbie shrugs and is right; it's not their problem. "You in? We going?"
"Yeah, let's go."
The city is a wreck. I mean, it's 2:30 AM on New Year's Day, and I thought that'd be enough anarchy to give us the night off, at least wait till the aftermath. Some roads are closed, but only in one direction, so our cabbies turns to reverse and zooms maybe 50mph in the wrong lane. We slow for a cop, but only cause my buddy next to me asked the cabbie to.
"Tough night?" he asks the cop, who nods.
"Fuck. New decade, and everyone wants to start out on top. Ain't no one on top of this shit pile tonight."
"We clear to go through?"
The cop nods and gestures. "Do your thing."
I lean forward and look out the window. "Happy New Year," I get in as we start pulling away.
We drive along the waterside. Bodies litter the yards and gutters, most just passed out drunk in their costumes and facepaint and the ridiculous toys of unrestrained 20-somethings who think that self-destruction is a type of freedom. But not everyone is out entirely. Some people stumble around, too something to fall over. Some are entirely sober, and trying to help their friends. But some of these friends won't wake up. And there are gun shots too, and smoke in the distance.
I stare at the faces and costumes. Some snore and twitch. One half-fallen from a chair, but with a snagged cape and caught half fall. A whole pile dressed as TV characters sleeping on each others legs. The one that's face down may have trouble if the ground is soft. Someone's small dog scampers around collecting chips and other spilled snacks.
We pass the park; neutral ground. I count four bodies here, hard to see through the long grass, though. Could be more. Four bodies, at least, with people wailing over them.
It's the next section of town I'm least excited about, though I feel the adrenaline rise in me. It's the next section of town that we've been sent to.
We get the call to move out, and it startles us, but we do it. High energy, but focused, like a wolf pack, dressed in black.
"This block?"
"Naw, next. Some cabs. 010, I think is one of the numbers?"
We run to the next. An uber, some cabs, and a small bus are pulling in. People are hopping in places, but we ignore the bus; they just want in on the action. I see a guy I know -- the older one, angular face, more... I don't know, South American features? -- I get in the same car as him.
"Where we headed, cabbie?"
"You know I can't say; security feature. I can confirm the code on your phone though."
"I don't have the code, don't have a phone; just was told to get in."
Cabbie shrugs and is right; it's not their problem. "You in? We going?"
"Yeah, let's go."
The city is a wreck. I mean, it's 2:30 AM on New Year's Day, and I thought that'd be enough anarchy to give us the night off, at least wait till the aftermath. Some roads are closed, but only in one direction, so our cabbies turns to reverse and zooms maybe 50mph in the wrong lane. We slow for a cop, but only cause my buddy next to me asked the cabbie to.
"Tough night?" he asks the cop, who nods.
"Fuck. New decade, and everyone wants to start out on top. Ain't no one on top of this shit pile tonight."
"We clear to go through?"
The cop nods and gestures. "Do your thing."
I lean forward and look out the window. "Happy New Year," I get in as we start pulling away.
We drive along the waterside. Bodies litter the yards and gutters, most just passed out drunk in their costumes and facepaint and the ridiculous toys of unrestrained 20-somethings who think that self-destruction is a type of freedom. But not everyone is out entirely. Some people stumble around, too something to fall over. Some are entirely sober, and trying to help their friends. But some of these friends won't wake up. And there are gun shots too, and smoke in the distance.
I stare at the faces and costumes. Some snore and twitch. One half-fallen from a chair, but with a snagged cape and caught half fall. A whole pile dressed as TV characters sleeping on each others legs. The one that's face down may have trouble if the ground is soft. Someone's small dog scampers around collecting chips and other spilled snacks.
We pass the park; neutral ground. I count four bodies here, hard to see through the long grass, though. Could be more. Four bodies, at least, with people wailing over them.
It's the next section of town I'm least excited about, though I feel the adrenaline rise in me. It's the next section of town that we've been sent to.
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