Chapter 1: Chapter 1

“Thief!”

Shane glanced over his shoulder as he sprinted down the main drag. The old worn-out road was cracked and eroded. Plants stuck up through the broken asphalt, reminding him that the world was once nice.

The summer air held hints of sewage and flowers from the park. None of that mattered as Shane dug his feet into the ground.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Shane panted out as his torn shoes carried him further into the city. His light cloth vest flailed in the wind as he dodged citizens and avoided eye contact with the guards. “Excuse me! Coming through!”

One old woman was nearly plowed over as Shane leapt in front of her.

“Sorry!” he called out as he picked up his pace.

“Well, I never!” she huffed as he disappeared into the crowd.

Shane didn’t have time to apologize personally to every person he ran into. His only goal was getting further into the city where the crowds would be thicker. And years of running had allowed him to out-distance the guards with ease.

Slowing to catch his breath, Shane pulled his hood over his head and blended with the shoppers as they appraised the stalls. The sweet scent of candy and baked goods filled the air, making his stomach growl in pain.

“How long has it been?” he asked himself as he touched his stomach. “Two days? Three? I need to eat something.”

Shaking his head, he listened to the guards’ whistles blow from the next street over.

Letting out a relieved breath, he pushed his way through the crowd again, this time patiently and with more forgiveness.

“Sorry,” he said as he moved past a young woman.

Her nose wrinkled in disgust as his filthy body touched hers.

Sighing, Shane didn’t take it personally. He knew he shouldn’t be in this part of town with the way he was dressed, and his hygiene was an especially bad problem for the market.

It’s not my fault I don’t have a shower like these uppity pricks, he groused in his head.

Patting down his ragged slacks that he had sewn from stolen vegetable sacks, he brushed as much dirt off as he could. His vest was another issue. Made from many discarded slips of fabric from the tailor, he had fashioned himself the best clothes he could. His shoes were two sizes too small, his toes poking out the front as he walked.

Someday, he thought to himself. Someday I’ll be able to walk through this city with money in my pocket, and people will respect me.

Brushing the makeshift pocket in his vest, he confirmed that the vial was still present. He would be the first to admit that he was a thief, and he was damn good at his job. The only problem was that he was expendable and dirt-cheap to hire.

Stolen novel; please report.

Moving through the crowd, he listened to the whistles, getting closer this time.

“They don’t know where I am,” he muttered.

Entering the market square, he scanned the stalls that were set up, taking up a majority of the football-field-sized space. It was a maze to get through, and only those from the city could truly navigate it.

Slipping through a small opening between stalls, he entered the market. The sizzling of meat and popping of oil greeted his ears. His stomach rumbled in displeasure as the succulent scents made his head spin.

I can eat soon, he told himself.

Shifting through the crowd, he kept his head down and his hands ready for the pickpockets. Some of the newer kids might not recognize him, and he didn’t want to have to beat a lesson into them either.

Minutes passed as he made his way to the fountain in the square’s center. Several couples were enjoying a romantic moment at the waterfront, eating skewers and candies.

Ignoring them, Shane made his way to a lone woman dressed far nicer than everyone else around. Flowing platinum hair cascaded over the shoulder of her black dress.

Tripping on purpose, he fell towards the woman and slipped the vial into her purse as he hit the ground.

“Ew,” she scoffed. “Get away from me, filth.”

Shane bowed his head as he got to his knees. “My apologies, ma’am!”

The whistles grew closer, and Shane looked around for his escape. When he turned back to the woman, she was already gone, a small purse of coins in her place.

Scooping it up, he pocketed it in his vest before moving back through the stalls. When he heard the sounds of a hound sniffing nearby, he froze.

His thoughts raced. They didn’t! There’s no way they brought out their Summons for that vial!

Heart pounding, he watched the shoppers part as a wolf the size of one of the old sedans stalked towards him.

Eyes widening, he did the one thing that would save him.

He leapt onto the nearest stand and climbed onto its roof.

Picking up his pace, he listened to the howl of the wolf just before it tore apart the stand. Splinters bounced off Shane’s back as he leapt from one roof to the next.

“What the hell did I steal?” he panted out as he cleared the market in record time.

Jumping off the last stall, he rolled across the ground before recovering and racing towards the city wall. Old streetlights and telephone poles towered over him, no longer working in the current age.

The buildings he passed were concrete and steel. What were once panes of glass windows that reflected ones image were now cheap glass mimicries. The paved sidewalks resembled the streets, broken, with grass and weeds growing through them.

Most of the towering buildings had collapsed upper floors that no one had the tools to fix. The few newer buildings since the Descendance were crude constructs of wood panels. Most of it came from scrapped buildings in the wilds that the few brave Marked could handle.

Shane always dreamed of being one of the Marked—someone bonded to a Summon. Sharing his soul with a companion that would push him past normal mortal limits.

He wanted to be powerful. He wanted to show the world that he wasn’t just some criminal that was a scourge on the world.

Shaking his head, he dismissed his dreams as he ran through the street. The howls of the wolf were getting closer, picked up by growls, and the caws of other summons closed in on him.

Shane chuckled.  “At least I made it to my twenty first birthday.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the Summons tear apart the street as they came for him. People were thrown to the side with no regard for injuries or casualties.

Still, Shane had one hope to get away. It would most likely be his death, but his life was forfeit either way.

The city gate was close, the doors slowly closing as the winch was let out.

Digging into every scrap of energy he had left in his body, he pushed through the crowd and dived under the guards blocking his way.

Scrambling on all fours, he felt hands grasp at him, but like a weasel, he flailed and twisted.

Then the gate closed, and he was outside the city for the first time in fifteen years. He was officially in the wilds—home of the monsters from the Descendance.