Enchained (Enchained Trilogy book 1)

Chapter 8 Patrol

My boots clomp on the moist, paved streets of the eastern sector as I wander to my assigned area. A slight shiver darts up my spine as an unusual chill in the air finds me, reminding me that the weather can be unpredictable, and reminding me of my punishment. Because I had challenged her, Commander Vye assigned me to night patrol. Though the days are warm and humid, the nights tend to be nippy.

A few droplets of water from the condescension that has formed on the edges of the buildings and street lamps fall to the ground, dampening my jacket as well. I swipe them off and continue my rounds, refusing to show weakness. I deserve my punishment; I know that, but a part of me wonders why I embarrassed Commander Vye in the first place. She is supposed to be my mentor, as well as my commanding officer. I should be following her every example, learning what I can from her.

The frightened girl's face fills my mind before morphing into the desperate one of her father. Though he deserved what punishment he received, punishing the child for his misdeeds did not seem right. This is where I have failed in my duties as an arbiter. I allowed my emotions to interfere and must not let them do that again.

"Emotions are burdens," Molers' voice echoes in my head as I remember one of his many training sessions.

"Anything to report," came Renal's voice over the intercom function on my wristband. He is on patrol as well, charged with monitoring me and ensuring that I do my job as this is my first night patrol.

"No, sir," I reply.

"Understood. Keep your eyes peeled. There have been unwarranted activities at night lately."

"Yes, sir."

I end my communication with him and wish this night would end soon. Patrolling the streets during the days is more interesting, as there are more people out and you are able to talk to them, or visit the various storeowners, and maybe pick up an extra meal or two; but guarding the streets in the dark means being plagued by boredom, a boredom that drags the hours and you with it.

A clinking sound draws my attention and I walk over to investigate, wondering why anyone would be out after nightfall as it is well past curfew. It happens again. I maneuver over to where the noise emanates from and ready my weapon. As I near the source of the sound, I realize that it has come from a craft store that Renal had taken me to on my fourth day within the eastern sector. Did he fail to put the trash in the incinerator?

All storeowners are to dispose of their garbage at the end of the day, placing it within the incinerators throughout the city, but sometimes they forget, or wait until it is too close to curfew, so they opt to do it in the morning. Sometimes, trash is left outside in the alley, an infraction that results in a warning, and stray animals find their way into it. A few years ago, an infestation of rats littered Arel because of the trash people failed to dispose of, blaming the lack of incinerators and the time it took to get to them. As a result, the council allocated resources to allow for more incinerators to be built throughout the city, but the eastern sector received the fewest funds. Always bearing the brunt of outside attacks meant labeling the spending of valuable resources to maintain its infrastructure as a useless endeavor.

I creep toward the noise, pulling out my small flashlight, turning it on and focusing the beam into a darkened alleyway, expecting to find some rats, a cat, or monkeys (yes, that happened one year, or so I'm told), but I am not greeted by any sort of animal. A mop of soiled hair with just a few strands of pale yellow fills my light as a plebeian girl tries to lift a sack, while not allowing the items contained within it to tumble out of the hole that has formed in the bottom. She drops the sack the moment she notices my light, but holds something in her tiny hand, while using her other to smear mud over her face and keeping it covered with her grungy hair.