Chapter 3

The noise was overpowering; everything just seemed so chaotic. Joel felt like the world was ending, and he was terrified. He’d known this demonstration would end badly. Why, oh why hadn’t he spoken against it more forcefully? Why hadn’t he been more adamant that they should do something on a smaller scale? Why hadn't he just refused to go? They had some crazy people aligned with their group now and he had just known that they couldn’t remain peaceful, they had to go to far. The scariest thing was that Nathan didn’t seem bothered by it. It was as if Nathan had expected this, he was completely unflustered. Police were coming in violently now, clad in riot gear, some of them were going under, but mostly it was the protesters. Joel didn’t want to see anyone hurt, he went to the aid of a policeman that had been separated from his squad and was being attacked from behind by three of Nathan’s followers. Joel got a taste of the man’s taser for his trouble. Not that he could blame the guy, he wasn’t likely to realise one of the protestors was trying to help him. Joel felt himself falling under a sea of bodies and was pretty sure this was going to be the end of the line. He didn’t see his life flash before his eyes, probably for the best really; there were many things in Joel’s life that he’d rather never see again. He simply felt himself losing his grip on life, drifting off into a deep sleep.

There was a bright light in front of him. Had Joel been a man of faith he might have believed he was ascending to heaven. However, Joel didn’t have much of a belief in any higher being and if there was an afterlife then he was pretty sure that nothing he’d done would warrant him a place anywhere other than in the fiery pits. Left with the only logical option, that he was still alive and there was an actual light, he tried to concentrate. As the light moved away from his eye he saw the shape that was holding the light, it was human and it appeared to be examining him. Straining to focus his eyes he couldn’t make out any features, but his senses persuaded him that it was a female. Everything was blurred and confusing. All he could really see were white shapes moving around him.

It was a lot quieter than before, he didn’t think he was still at the protest, it was hard to think straight, it seemed like his brain was wrapped in cotton wool, everything was fuzzy. There was a smell, what was that? Some sort of familiar, slightly scary smell, gradually he began to realise, it was the smell of a hospital. The shape over him was in white because she was a Dr or Nurse. He should feel comforted by this, knowing he was being looked after, but somehow being in a hospital just made him more anxious.

The woman seemed to realise he was coming too; she began to speak to him. Her voice was low, calming; his cynical side told him that she had perfected it in order to manipulate others. However, it still had its intended effect, it managed to soothe him slightly, allaying some of his fears. He couldn’t make sense of what she was saying yet, but he tried to respond, muttering something that probably made very little sense. He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say.

Turning, the woman adjusted some tubes, perhaps releasing more drugs into his bloodstream. Joel felt sleep coming over him like a heavy blanket. He tried to fight against it, not wanting to fall into that vulnerable state, but ultimately he lost the battle. His weariness combined with the injuries he’d sustained and the drugs they’d put in him combined to cause a very deep sleep.

Cassandra made a few final checks on the patient, relieved that he was sleeping now. He was in a bad state, but that didn’t guarantee her safety should he suddenly decide she was the enemy. She felt sympathy for his cause, but she couldn’t relate to the protestors. How could they expect people to treat them better when they did this? All the rally had achieved was to fuel the belief that down-towners are subhuman. Violence would only reap violence, she was sure of that.

Cassandra began to feel guilty for being so judgmental. Who was she to criticise the way these people acted? She had money, clothes, health, and a nice house. These people had practically nothing. They were forgotten, neglected, left to fester. So they resorted to drastic means. Who could blame them? They didn’t necessarily want to. They’d been kicked so much, was it that difficult to see why they had turned round and bitten back? It wouldn’t benefit them though. The only way to secure people’s help was to make them care about the plight of the non-transporters. People fighting and attacking the system would just confirm everyone’s worst fears, who would want to help then?

Continuing on, Cassandra checked the remaining patients in the room. Many had been trampled and crushed. She had seen all of the protestors that had been brought in now. One notable absence amongst them was Nathan. That was hardly surprising. Men like him weren’t the kind to sully their own hands. No doubt he had retreated to a nice safe vantage point once things had got ugly. He was the one that really angered her, using people like this. He played with people’s emotions, manipulating them like puppets in his show. Maybe she was wrong about him and he did care, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he would sell every last one of his followers out if it would benefit him.

It was then that Cassandra decided to really do something, as a start she would research Nathan. Find out every detail about him and how he came to end up in exile. It might take a while, but she was sure that her hacking skills would be up to the task and that it might provide some very interesting results.