A hand yanked on Abigail’s arm. “Come on, Abby! We’ve got some Doves to egg!”
Attending the Anti-Mutant Rally was not Abigail’s idea---in fact, she had arrived in Downtown today under the pretence of having brunch with a friend. It was then that her friend looped arms with her, dragging her into the mix of rally-goers with two cartons of eggs between them. “They’re doing this in Australia,” her friend said. “Egging politicians! I’m going to---don’t give me that look---I’m going to scope out the crowd. You stay here and keep an eye out for anyone that looks like they deserve a good egging.”
Abigail would not be egging any politicians---or anyone else for that matter, thank you very much; but she did hold onto the carton of eggs for dinner. Watching while her friend disappeared into the crowd, Abigail’s stomach turned. The crowd was growing restless, chanting, taunting, and Abigail was alone. Scared.
Stumbling, Abigail squeezed into a quiet enclave between two buildings. The rally-goers continued to march to-and-fro behind her; while a person---a Dove---moved in the alleyway ahead. An unconscious person slumped over beside them, and the Dove slid a gloved hand under the collar around their neck to hold them upright. Growing anxious, Abigail stepped back.
Crack! Glass shattered beneath her shoes. The Dove looked up---and Abigail’s heart stopped. Is that---? Part of the Dove’s visor was cracked, with a long, jagged line revealing part of their face: Sara’s face. That was her sister!
Without thinking, Abigail propelled herself forward. “Sara,” she said, her eyes wild and mad, “What are you doing?” @saraxiaos