Silver Rivers

This story focuses on Ka a young street rat with 'special benefits' living in the London backstreets whose basic rule is survive, the cowards why of course. It follows Ka has he becomes entangled in the chaotic madness that engulfs England with the escape of 'Silver' a poison which has developed a consciousness courtesy of England's greatest minds with the intention of being a military weapon. Join Ka as he and his gang as they traverse London in the struggle to capture 'Silver' and make it out

"I can't stand it! He comes on the radio everyday, all high and mighty lying through his teeth and every person this side of the river believes him...He's a thief and no one sees it!"  

"He's shouting again, shut him up will you, his rehearsing is giving me a headache. Tama?  Tama?

Are you listening to me? I said shut him up! Tama! I said shut him up! Tama!"

"You shut up! I can't stand it anymore, all of you just shut... what the, who’s that? Hey you, get away from our window before I call the police! This is an educational establishment...not the bloody soup kitchen!  Go somewhere else for a handout.  Get out you urchin! Get out before I box your ears."

 I'd taken off for the river like fury, the devil at my heels.  I had to secure my box anyway, if washed away it was of no use to anyone even the poor. I frowned, even in my thoughts disappointment reigned. Like an idiot, I'd been spotted. A school, what was I thinking, for a coward like me, those were never the best place to go looking for supplies, headmasters often made good on their threats. In addition the air surrounding them was uneasy with fear. It was strict and tasteless, stale like the scraps the butcher throws out and then takes pleasure in watching the skulkers attack and battle, sometimes to the death over. Yes, life in the street was hard.

Too hard? Too easy? One couldn't be sure, food was scarce and shelter even more so. But taxes weren't for the homeless, the tax collector never came knocking down a soap box, demanding payment and Scotland Yard didn't come dragging you out spitting every insult in the name of the parliament and justice. Yes, life was hard but better than that of the pompous beaten dogs of the lower class.

The clouds darkened, grumbled and then with a thunderous cry belittled my petty problems, it's rumbling shook my weary bones, causing my teeth to chatter, as spears of liquid ice fell from the heavens. Crash!  Instinct kicked in and I was gone, first rule of the backstreets a loud sound equals trouble. Learn the rules and survive, simple.

I reached the Annon's bridge in record time to see a tattered brown object sail downstream with alarming speed. Rage boiled beneath the surface, taking stone in hand, I released it. The stone hit the bank with a satisfying crack.  I chose another.  

"AHHHH! That's the third one this week! Why does this always happen to me!" looking further I caught the last glimpse of brown wink at me before traversing the bend.

"You know Ka, any smart person would probably have thought of finding new turf by now."

"Don't do that Than, I'm not in the mood for your games today."

"Who said anything about games, Tadis called council and I got the unfortunate job of coming to get... hey! Don't throw rocks! I'm delicate."

"You’re about as delicate as a bull." Next time, I'll have better aim, the thought lifted my mood.  I held up my hand "Don't; where's the meeting?"

He pouted, at my interruption "The Iron gates by West Alley, don't get caught, the Yard is lurking about. Something big went down in parliament today and not your average everyday something either."

"It must be big to get old Progs and the lackeys down in West Alley, isn’t that Vhan's district, sounds like it's gonna be a war zone today." the meeting suddenly looked unappealing. 

"Yeah, and all cowards are required to come, that means you." his voice was smug "Don't get killed now."

"If I do promise you'll come with me." his expression was admittedly amusing, however the thought lead me to ponder my own state of mental awareness. Vhan and Progs were rivals in every sense of the word the good inspectors were known for being the best of Yard and the worst of friends, what on earth could have happened to get them working together. 

"Hey idiot! Don't worry I got to go back with you, so your skin is safe for yet another day."

"If you’re my protection, I'd better go hand myself over to Progs."

"Why you, get back here."

Even as I ran down the cobblestones towards what seemed to me the Armageddon of London, I couldn’t shake the feeling this maybe the last time Than and I would run down the river bank, laughing in the London rain.

The End

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