Assembly

"This has been declared an unlawful assembly. You're in violation of Federal law, and subject to detention or arrest. This is your final order to depart the area. Authorized agents may use chemical agents to remove you from the restricted area."

The crowd erupted into jeers. We were packed like sardines at the border- a hastily constructed wall of shipping containers, and concrete barricades. A wall of national guardsmen, and police officers in riot gear stood between the crowd and the checkpoint.

The barricade had been put up overnight, in the hours between when they ceased the evacuation, and quarantined the city. I'd taken my car that morning, drove it until I hit gridlock on the highway. When people got out of their cars and started walking to the checkpoint, I got out too. Now we were crammed like sardines on a small highway, maybe two or three hundred people. I wondered if the other checkpoints were as backed up as this one.

"We have no where to go! There's no way to get out!" Someone in the crowd yelled. Someone else threw something- A bottle maybe. Then a shot rang out. Everyone around me ducked, so I ducked too. In my haste to get down someone elbowed me in the lip. For a moment, the crowd hushed, the shot still echoing in the early morning air. It was cold, so goddamn cold. The tips of my fingers had gone numb, I hadn't expected to walk, or be stopped at the border. None of this made any sense. Just last night I'd gotten my notice to evacuate in the morning, by the same national guards that stood between me, and the exit.

The people around me slowly stood up- we looked around, praying no one had been struck by the shot. There was murmuring, I heard someone near me whisper something. I turned to ask what they said- There was a young woman behind me, maybe 19, or 20. Her hair was tussled, a crocheted pink scarf was wrapped tightly around her face. She was looking off to the right. I followed her gaze, and saw a circle of people crowded around a point. Someone had been hit.

Then, the jeers returned. More bottles, backpacks, and random items flew out over the crowd. From somewhere behind me I felt a push, people at the back were moving forward. I tripped over myself, and the young woman behind me pulled me back up. I tried to turn back to look at her, maybe to say thanks, or ask what was happening, but someone else behind me grabbed my shoulder and pushed me forward. I lurched forward, packed tightly into the crowd around me. Then, from somewhere ahead, the crowd was pushed back. And then we pushed forward again. Like I was part of a wave crashing into some shore I couldn't see. Forward, then back, forward, back. But each time, we went a little further forward.

The crowd was growing more agitated with each motion, growing louder with each push. I heard that tinny megaphone voice ring out again, but I couldn't make out the words. There were more gunshots, and then more pushing. But this time, we didn't pull back, we kept pushing forward. The people behind me pushed me forward until I couldn't walk anymore. I was losing my balance, falling forward, I knocked down someone else in front of me.

Then, I fell to the ground. I skinned my palms on the concrete, and I felt someone foot stamp on me. There wasn't enough room to turn. I tried reaching up, to grab someone or something to lift myself back up, but they just kept pushing forward. I was squished by a dozen different pairs of legs, smothered by the strangers around me. Overhead, I heard more gunshots, like cracks of lightning. I wondered who they struck.

Then, the front of the crowd broke through whatever wall had been keeping us back, and suddenly everyone moved forward. I found enough space to scramble to my feet, and I ran forward too. I didn't dare to stop, to look around, to do anything but move forward. It was a stampede.

I couldn't make out the people around me. They were all screaming and shouting, moving too quickly. I think I screamed, too. Because I was mad, because I was scared, and confused. I stared out over the crowd, looking at the makeshift cargo containers. We were growing closer every second.

I stepped over someone. I don't think they were moving anymore. I wasn't sure if they'd been shot, or trampled. I didn't want to walk over them, but I also didn't have anywhere else to plant my feet. I saw a thick cloud of green smoke ahead, and we were charging right into it. I saw people disappearing into the smoke, and I knew I would too. I pulled my shirt up over my nose, hoping it might help, but knowing it probably wouldn't.

My eyes burned, my nostrils stung, I shuddered and choked on each breath, and I kept pushing forward. On the other side of the smoke, past the cargo containers, the crowd thinned. People made it past the choke point and then made a mad dash in every direction. I saw some people fall as they were shot in the back. Others rushed at the guardsmen and tried to wrestle their weapons from them.

But I was supposed to be here. I was supposed to be leaving today. Why were they shooting at us?