Pax Dystopia: An Islanders' View

Day 1

It was the sort of hot and humid day where anybody with the freedom to do so, was either at the beach or in an air-conditioned building. However, for many people in the open-air market at Gros Islet, selling fresh produce and freshly caught fish was a necessity of life. Vendors called out to every man, woman, and child walking in the vicinity - claiming to have the best apples, mangoes or guava from the entire Caribbean.

"We got bananas, fresh as the morn!" called out an elderly lady, gesturing at a group of teenagers, all of whom were wearing grey jackets and wore large knapsacks. This unusual combination of clothing was capped by each of them wearing RenWear glasses.

Suddenly, the group of teenagers burst into a run. Their faces were blank, although their mouths were slightly gaped. The vendors and their prospective customers were too stunned to even run, and the first scream only began when the elderly lady was tackled to the ground by one assailant. The woman no sooner had struck the ground when a set of arms affixed another set of Ren Wear glasses to her head.

The commotion grew from there, as people began to run, dropping their purchases. However, they were soon surrounded by another group of people, this one of varying ages. They each wore Ren Wear glasses.

"STOP!" called a voice. The vendors and customers turned to face the source of the booming voice, but the Ren Wear-wearing people ignored the call, instead running towards the market.

"Ah dang it," muttered Agent Tasha, a diminutive woman in her early 30s and a third-year field officer of BADGE. She pulled out her comm. "TRI! Need you, now!"

"Less than a minute, Tash," was the reply.

Agent Tasha opened another channel on her comm. "Agent Tasha to BADGE HQ! We have -"
Static was on the other end. "Dang it," she muttered. "Something's interfering on the global BADGE channel or something."

Agent Tasha pulled out her batons, and activated the low-level electric shocks. She didn't have time to wait, and charged at the assailants as they drove other people to the ground. She successfully struck three young men in succession, knocking them down. A woman screamed, then suddenly went silent as a set of Ren Wear glasses was placed on her face.

The woman quickly rose to her feet, then made a beeline towards a stunned Agent Tasha.

"Um,... what?" whispered Agent Tasha as she backed away, momentarily forgetting her batons.

A large mass crashed into her side, knocking her down. She lost control of her batons, and suddenly a man was straddling her chest. She moved to strike, but her arms were pinned down by the woman. Her head twisted left, only to see another person reach out with a set of Ren Wear glasses.

"I. Don't. Think. So," called a nearby voice. The weight on Tasha's chest was yanked off, as the hero named Tri-blade appeared. He shoved away the woman pinning Tasha's arms down, then helped Tasha to her feet. She quickly located and grabbed her batons, and stood back-to-back with her friend.

"What are we going to do?" asked Agent Tasha, concern in her voice.

"Right now, defend anybody not yet wearing those devices," replied Tri-blade stoically. He pointed at the crowd at the market. "Bad news, that number of people is dropping by the instant. We need a safe zone, away from anybody wearing the Ren Tech!"

Agent Tasha held her head in her hands. "That's the schools out, the hospital, the supermarket..."

"We'll have to make our own, then," said Tri-blade. He shouted to anyone within earshot, "Follow me!" He raised one of his mystical daggers and shot a burst of energy from it. They shuffled quickly towards a bus parked nearby, no passengers onboard and the driver sitting at the wheel, bewildered at the scene.

"Driver, you wearing Ren Tech?" asked Agent Tasha.

"No way, gal. Thing ugly and duncy," the driver sneered.

"Good enough, driver." She stepped in and took the seat opposite the driver. "BADGE will take care of your fare today."

"Sounds good to me. Where to?"

"Drive through the town. We gathering anybody in need of protection, then we get out of here."

Tri-blade dashed towards the bus door, holding the hand of a young girl. He helped her in, then stepped in the doorway.

"Let's go, driver," he commanded. As the bus slowly made its way forward, Tri-blade shouted again, "Everyone! Come with me!"

"... if you want to live," he thought sadly.