The Few Part 9: Burning Bread

John stood nervously on the sidewalk outside of the bakery, listening for any sign of what might be happening inside. The unnatural silence made him almost afraid to look in. Gradually he peered through the doorway at the room, still dark despite the rising sun outside. The room was empty, but as his eyes adjusted to the light, he found the room littered with human remains.
Fear gripped his body as he searched the building for, if not live bodies, at least corpses of the people who had slept there. Searching under the fallen counter, the decrepit kitchen, and even the old stove, he could find no intact body. Wanting to call for the people he knew, but afraid to arouse their killers, he called in a low voice.
"Hello?" There was silence. Not just silence, but an erie, complete silence that made John whisper to himself just to make sure he hadn't gone deaf.
"Hello?" he called again, a little louder, this time knowing that nobody would answer. He heard a shuffle to the side of the building, and saw a pair of shoes disappear through the window. He ran around to the side of the building to see a human figure disappear into the alleyway.

He darted after the figure into the alley. He could see the shape of a person, but none of the features. He was not in the best of shape, but when he ran his fastest, he kept a formidable pace. Still, the body he was chasing slipped farther and farther away.
The figure ran sporadically, slowing down for a moment and speeding up again, as if it could not run and breathe at the same time. John would one moment think he was gaining on it, and the next moment would find that it was even farther out of his reach. Finally, it turned a corner back towards the road and was lost to John entirely.

Breathing heavily, John walked out to Main Street and sat down on the stoop of an empty building. He searched all of the buildings up and down the street, finding no trace of his family. Discouraged, he returned to the plaza by the disheveled hunting club and sat in the midst of the only nice place in Sidewood.
He sat for a moment, contemplating the fate of his family, before the sound of an engine caught his ear. He walked briskly out to the road to find an old sedan rumbling down the street. Cars were rare in Sidewood since the filling station had closed, and the sight of a car driving down the street in the middle of this disaster made him surprised and worried. The car pulled over the curb into the alleyway that led to the plaza, almost hitting John head-on before he darted back.

A large man dressed in black emerged from the driver's door, locked the car and walked out toward the street. He wore a black sweater, long black pants and black dress shoes, calling even more attention than usual to his wrinkled, pale skin and silvery gray hair, poorly masked by a brown dye. John watched from the courtyard as the man walked by without even acknowledging John's presence. When he got to the street, he looked both directions and started to go one way, then the other, before he finally turned to John and asked, in an energetic but aging voice, "You know which way to the courthouse?"
John was surprised by the question, mostly because he did not think the man had noticed him. He ran up until he stood alongside the stranger and pointed down the road back toward Wardville. "Over there. It's the only building with a door."

"Judge Palter Fanning" the man said, extending his hand for an handshake. "We're gonna have a trial."
"What for?" John asked sheepishly.
"Murder. And probably the death penalty. Sidewood always goes for the death penalty." Judge Palter Fanning got a big grin on his face. "Even when there's no trial."
John chuckled self-consciously.
"And your name?" the judge asked, suddenly serious again.
"John Echson."
"Oh." the judge said dryly, and suddenly Judge Palter Fanning turned and walked briskly to the courthouse, leaving John behind.

John stood for a moment before slowly walking to the courthouse. The courthouse building, while not in the best condition, still looked well maintained by comparison. He walked inside to find armed members of The Others inside, taking turns shoving his comrades in The Few one by one into the courthouse's holding cell.

A young man in his 30's came from the crowd. "Hello," he said, holding out his hand for a handshake, but not giving a name. Cautious, John tried to remember where he had seen the man before. After a moment, he vaguely remembered the man from the night Sam was shot. John shook his hand.

John wasn't entirely sure what happened next. He had been up all night and was tired. But when he was done, he ended up in the holding cell, stuffed full with all surviving members of The Few in the unlit holding cell. From his position near the front of the cell, he could catch glimpses of people walking by. He saw a pair of black dress shoes walk by briskly, and heard a clap before a voice John recognized as Judge Palter Fanning began to speak.

"Okay, folks. Let's get started."

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