James carried the small box of thread and paper up a curvy stairset until he met the loose end of a broken hatch and pushed up. He stumbled onto a rooftop and treated himself with urgency. Delicacies of such kind were a rarity and he knew that a few extra coin to top off his indulgence wouldn’t hurt the group. As he did so, knowing that a cold grip of regret would haunt him later, his eyes fell upon the audacity of the world. The fact that it continued to thrive, even in small settlements like Georgetown, was amazing.

A large movie theater, although broken and bruised, was reanimated into a town hall. A slope of piercing white panels lined its front, pinned with blacks letters of the new blockbusters coming out that year. Posters also hung in frames outside on the lower banks of its foundation. The artwork captured on them had him in awe the first time he saw them. Smoke trickled out in rungs through the surrounding buildings and structures occupied by settlers within the town. Houses were built in sunken and elevated altitudes. The town was immersed in splashes of vibrant colors and canopies of cloth, which weaved in and out through the flea market.

His motive, the group’s, was initially to spark the interest of mayor Achlin, who was always holed up in the theater. James had only met him on one occasion, and that occasion was on the battlefield, fighting for the safety of Georgetown. James’ group was there, too. For the coin, of course... And so was James, or at least he thought. The battle was gruesome and petty. It was merely a skirmish for outsiders that slavers captured. Outsiders commonly skulked around their home after being banished on terms unforgivable and inhumane towards their own settlement. Sexual abuse and murder were the prime contenders whenever a case of banishing someone came up. Achlin opposed of these things and would never allow what he considered “blood” to remain in Georgetown if it were to happen. His policies were strict and justified in their own right to James.

James shifted his focus back on consuming the precious food and milk. It tasted sweet and bland at the same time. Those days, time was passing too fast for him to catch a real moment for himself. All of the conflict they encountered on their way to Georgetown seemed worth it now as he rested his eyes back on the bustling town. He filled his lungs with a lively breath of air, entrancing himself with the crescent moon that hung above him like a dreamcatcher for the blanket of thoughts that sputtered across his mind. He felt safe. Achlin, Georgetown, the illumination of the theater, and the congregation of unity made him feel safe. Slowly, James drifted to sleep with a rifle barreled in his arms.

James was slowly regaining his senses as he woke up muttered in powdered, chocolate milk stained lips, and a burly fellow named Piv hunkering over. Before James could react, a slew of spit catapulted from Piv’s mouth to his face.

“I forgot that was how you greeted me when I’ve done something idiotic, Piv,” James said reluctantly, attempting to balance himself on one foot to get up.
“You know that I love those white powder buddies, too, James!”
“First of all,” James said, wiping the spit from his face, “everyone in Georgetown can vouch that they’re not called white powder buddies… Second of all, I must say I deserved this.”
“Yeah, I suppose that’s a plus side of you doing something dumb,” Piv responded.
“I’m guessing the rest of ‘em sent you up here to do that, huh?” asked James.
“Yeah, pretty much,” Piv said with a smile.
“Let’s promise not do it again,” James said. “Now, let’s go back to the inn and get ready to meet Achlin.”
“You know I can’t make that promise, James,” Piv responded.
“Yep.”