II.
Miss Carriage exited the building as soon as the sun faded. The preachers
were gone. Citizens still roamed the streets. She hoped to sneak past them
unnoticed. Most people remembered a woman who shot them with a fetus.
She stuck to the shadows, keeping the chrome cannon concealed beneath her
black trench coat.
“You!” a man called out. She quickened her pace.
“Stop!” he shouted. Footsteps echoed behind her.
She turned a corner and started to run. She had to get out of the city.
Even though the citizens had risen up against the preachers, she felt like
her plan had failed. The city still stood. The people were still the same
ones who had cheered while others were exiled. They still held hate in
their hearts for anyone different.
A man with a video camera caught up with her. He was darker than anyone
she had ever seen. She was surprised Bibleopolis let him stay.
“What do you want?” Miss Carriage asked.
“My friend,” Roger said. “The one with the puppet on his hand. He’s been
captured.”
“So?” she responded. “That’s not my problem.”
“Listen,” Roger said. “I know you hate this place. I don’t like it either.
But he’s a good man, and he needs help.”