The shrill scream of the phone wrenched Samantha from sleep. She quickly pulled out her earbuds, sat up in the bed, and reached for the phone.
“Hello?”
“There’s a riot happening at the mayor’s house. You need to get down there.” It was Kyle.
“Shit.” She quickly threw herself up and got her shoes on. “What are they doing? Where’s the mayor? Are the police there?”
“They’ve started some fires near the house. It’s completely surrounded, and the mayor’s still in there, so he hasn’t been able to leave. The police are on their way.”
“Got it.” Her one room apartment made it easy for her to grab her black leather jacket and DSLR camera quickly. The strap fit snugly around her neck. She caught a flash of lighting out of the corner of her eye through the window. The boom followed about a second later. She looked out. The rain beat down hard against the infinite sprawl of apartment buildings and skyscrapers. “Thanks for the tip.”
“Hey, wait. It’s gonna get really messy out there. Like, bloody messy. Don’t push yourself, alright? Just take a few shots from a distance, then get the fuck out. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” she said quickly. “See ya.” She brought the phone down to hang up.
“No. Wait,” he yelled out. Annoyed, she brought the phone back up.
“What?”
“I need you to promise me that you’ll stay safe out there. You’re not on a grand quest. You’re a photographer. That’s it. Understood?”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “Yes, I promise.” She put as much emphasis behind it as she could muster. He was quiet. The rain clinging to the window made it seem as if the water was floating between the buildings.
“Okay. Stay safe,” he replied.
“Of course.” She hung up. She brought her camera up and took a picture of the torrent through the window. She breathed another sigh, then went through the doorway of her apartment and down to her car.
She could see the smoke curling from a couple blocks away. The sky was dark and dreary, and the buildings towered over everything like shadowy gods. The roads were clear. Nobody wanted to be out tonight. She parked her car on the curb about a block away from the mayor’s house. She got out and smelled the mixing fumes of smoke and rain. The sounds of screaming and chanting echoed through the caverns of the city. A police car sped through the road next to her, its lights shattering the rain into particles of light. She started behind it, making her way to the mayor’s house.
The situation was a lot worse than she thought it would be. The fire from the mayor’s house pulsed at the end of the road, and other burning buildings lined the street. The shadow of the crowd in front of the house seemed to bulge and squirm in some sort of struggle. Police cars stood parked in the middle of the road. It all looked like a gateway straight to hell. She snapped a couple pictures, then started running down the street.
She ran against some other people sprinting away from the crowd. As she got closer, she spotted between 10 to 20 policemen in the crowd, decked out in riot gear. Some were beating rioters with batons. Others were being kicked in by the rioters. She hid behind a cop car close to the chaos and snapped a couple more pictures. The tide of the battle seemed to be moving in favor of the people, as the cops were separated and thrown down. A few gunshots rang out. This only increased their fervor. The people not getting beat or doing the beating were chanting at the burning house, demanding the mayor to come out. Sam turned around as she heard the sound of a car. It was barreling down the road, straight toward the crowd. She quickly scurried up to the sidewalk as it plowed through a parked police car and straight into the crowd. She quickly took some photos as it pushed its way through the crowd. One person had their head plowed in by one of the wheels. She had managed to catch the moment.
The car came to a halt in the middle of the crowd. About 5 people came out with gas masks on, carrying ropes and bats. She moved into the outer edges of the crowd and got some pictures of them as they went right up to the flaming house and walked in. She had to get to the front. She started to push her way in.
She snaked her way through the middle, avoiding brawls between cops and the rioters. A police officer was getting curb stomped. She grabbed a picture, and a couple other fights. The front of the crowd seemed to be attempting to push their way through the small door of the house. She had to get in there. She continued to push her way through the crowd as it got thicker and thicker, to the point where it was hard to move. The smoke and the rain and the people all made it difficult to breathe. She could hear others screaming as they were pushed by the mob towards the house.
Suddenly, she got shoulder checked by a person bolting past her. She collapsed onto the ground, her camera falling out of her hands. There was no getting up. She quickly covered her face and folded herself together to protect herself from the feet of the crowd. She was suddenly jerked forward. The camera strap had wrapped itself around someone’s leg, and they hadn’t seemed to notice. The strap pulled hard against the front of her neck, making it impossible to breathe. She hurriedly grasped for the strap as she was yanked with every step. She started flailing wildly, desperately clawing at the strap, but it was no use. Her eyes became bulged and bloodshot. Her brain started to get foggy when, suddenly, the crowd stopped moving. She was pulled forward one last time, then immediately went for the strap and wringed it off. For a moment, she just lied there, taking deep, rapid breaths. She took a moment to survey her surroundings. The crowd's fervor seemed to be increasing. Then, they started to move backwards. She still felt too weak to get up, so she again cuddled up to protect herself. They moved so far back that she was finally at the front and could see what was happening.
The biggest of the men in gas masks was dragging the mayor by his arms while he was screaming and flailing wildly, the others following closely. He then stopped, facing the crowd. He spoke.
“Do you want to see justice!?” he roared. The crowd cheered and clapped back.
“Do you want to see him burn for his sins!?” The cheering became deafening, to the point where you could barely hear the rain and the thunder anymore.
“Then let's put on a show!” The crowd roared back. Sam covered her ears. The four men behind him tied the mayor’s hands and legs behind his back, pushed him to the ground, then started beating him with the bats. The crowd egged them on as he cried out in pain. After a thorough beating, they brought the mayor back up to his knees. The big man stepped behind the mayor and nodded towards one of the other men, who pulled out a pistol. He grabbed the mayor’s hair and pulled his head up.
“Do you have any last words for the people?” he screamed.
“Please just let me go. Please,” he cried. The big man turned towards the other one.
“You heard him.”
The barrel was placed directly against the side of his head. Sam locked eyes with him for a moment. The shot rang out across the city.
Sam met Kyle on the sidewalk in front of the newspaper building later the next day. The sky was partly cloudy, and the air smelled of static and rain. There seemed to be a dreary gray encompassing the buildings.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kyle asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied. The bruising from the strap was still visible around her neck. She had handed him the camera, which had gotten a cracked lens from last night's beating. “The memory card’s still in there. Some of the photos should be usable.”
“I don’t care about the photos. I care about you.”
“Why? I’m just a photographer.”
He stopped for a moment.
“No. You’re not.”
She looked him in the eyes. They stood there for a moment, taking in the cold autumn air.
“I’ll see ya around.”
She turned away and started walking, walking, walking, walking, melting into the dull greys and cold wetness and dark buildings and white skies of the city until it all became one and she was indistinguishable.