PROLOGUE, PART TWO

It took four hours – two on the extra assignment alone – but Rye eventually finished his homework, only stopping to eat dinner midway. The only bit of work left in his evening was his part-time job.

“Hey, mom! I’ve finished my homework, so I’m going down to Elliot’s! I’ll be back ‘round ten or ten-thirty!” Rye said.
“OK, Rye! Just remember to be careful!”

Rye had a part-time job at Elliot’s. Elliot’s was an independently-ran record store across from Joliet Park, at 32nd and Pollyanna. Again, Rye lived on Pekei between 34th and 35th, so it was just a few blocks away.

As Rye left his apartment block, he went to unchain his bicycle. He started pedaling down to Elliot’s, going southbound, turning right at 32nd, and continuing for one block.

Rye chained his bike to the rack in front of Elliot’s, and went on in.

“Hey, Rye, you’re just in time! C’mon in!” Said the owner, Elliot Trudeau, as Rye walked inside.

Elliot’s was a small, but nonetheless popular record store. They sold music on Cassettes, CDs, and vinyl. In addition to records, they also had a comics section, some old videogames from the 80s, and three arcade machines. The owner had been running the place since the late 60s, and the store shows no sign of ever disappearing from East Fourside, despite record-high inflation that has started to plague the global economy.

Rye got behind the register and started to work. Despite the tedious hours that one would expect from working as a cashier, Rye’s job was actually quite decent, since the record store was frequented by his friends at high school. Eduardo Gomez, Rye’s best friend, for instance, was always there around eight o’ clock, if not earlier.

“Yo, Rye, amigo! How are you doing tonight?”
“Oh, so-so. I got extra in Algebra for nodding off in class.”
“Well, you shoulda seen what was going down in Health! Someone cracked a joke when the teacher mentioned…err…y’know what I mean. Anyway, the drill sergeant of a teacher gave EVERYBODY extra work! All because of some idiot’s failure to act their age!”
“Yeah, like that’s gonna teach him a lesson. Goof up, and you aren’t even singled out for punishment.”
“The homework itself was rather easy, so I can’t really complain about that, though.”

Suddenly, a distressing thought entered Rye’s head.

“Now, Ed, on an unrelated note…”
“Yeah, what is it, amigo?”
“Last night, I had this…horrible nightmare.”
“What was it about?”
“Well…I dreamt that I saw this…thing.”
“Go on…?”
“It was horrific…it was just this…red…swirly…entity…I could hear breathing…and words…”
“…”
“Then I saw the entire city of Fourside…in flames…people running in the streets…”
“…”
“…there were these weird alien robots…they were…silver, with weird insignias on the upper right of their chests. Cops were trying to fight them…but it was just a one-sided massacre…the aliens were trying to kill any and everyone they saw…and they were winning.”
“Hmm…”
“It was…simply the most horrifying thing I ever experienced...I don’t even know how I could’ve dreamt something like that…It almost seemed too real to be a dream…”
“Don’t worry, amigo. Chances are that it really was just a dream. I think you may just have been watching too many reports about the war in Neoslavia. Or maybe you ate something before you went to sleep?”
“No, we’ve already finished that unit in current events, and the night I had that dream, I don’t recall eating anything.”
“Nothing like that could ever happen, though, amigo, you know that. It’s not possible.”
“…you’re right, Ed. Normally I’d shrug this off, but for some reason…ah, screw it. It’s just a dream, nothing more.”
“See, amigo? I guarantee you that when you wake up Saturday morning, Fourside will still be here, corrupt politicians and all!”
At that, both of them laughed.