Getting away from the rest of them wasn’t going to be as simple as he wanted it to be, but as he quickly entered the building in front of him, Cliff at least knew that they wouldn’t have the balls to storm a building that was filled with various gangs that had no love for the BLM and even less for Antifa. Such place still existed, but they were cities unto themselves at times and some of them had learned how to become self-sustaining villages of a sort that made their own products and recycled as much material as they could to keep themselves running. Thankfully the local governments, despite supporting BLM and Antifa, still found it necessary to appease everyone on some level, otherwise these places might have never appeared in the first place.
Cliff didn’t happen to know much about this particular building, but the markings he’d seen on the service door he’d gone through made it clear that they weren’t BLM sympathizers. And if they didn’t care for BLM then it was likely that they didn’t like Antifa either. Making his way down a service corridor he wasn’t even stopped until he rounded a corner and found himself facing two individuals that looked to be lounging in the hallway. One of them was white and the other was black, and they were both armed, but didn’t appear hostile.
“Can we help you?” the white man asked, rubbing at a rough, scrub-like beard that was gray in areas.
“This ain’t a place you can just walk into youngster,” said the black man, “At least not if you’re dressed like that.”
Cliff looked down at his black sweatshirt and faded blue jeans, frowning as he looked back up. Neither of the men were wearing face masks he realized, which prompted him to pull his down so they could see his face in full.
“I’m sorry,” he said calmly, “This was all I had for the day. I’m not BLM or Antifa, promise.”
“Yeah well, too bad for you we’ve heard that before,” the black man stated, his hand moving towards the pistol situated in a holster at his hip, “It’s probably best that you run along now son.”
Cliff licked his lips nervously, looking back the way he’d come, “I can’t sir,” he replied, “I’ve got BLM and Antifa on my ass. I saw the red white and blue star on the door and I figured this place would be safe for a while. If that’s okay.”
“What were they chasing you for?”
It was a huge trump card to play this soon, but having seen the mark on the door and the fact that both men had bristled noticeably at the mention of BLM and Antifa, Cliff figured it might be his only chance to stick around.
“Because of this,” he said, pulling the item that the thugs had started chasing him for. The reaction that both men had wasn’t a new one, since most people hadn’t seen a genuine American flag for quite a while.
(to be continued)