Broken Thrones - a dystopian MCYT story

39: Grian

Neither Cub or I speak as we run to the old home. He leads us over the buildings and rooftops, just ahead, as we race on. I don't even realise we're at the right place until I'm inside.

'The transceiver's in here.' Explains Cub. 'I'll grab some other stuff.'

I start searching through Scar's room. Drawers, floor, under the bed, where I find something else instead.

A cowboy hat.

A memory rises in mind. Scar telling me about the recipe. How he and Cub swapped... This must be what he gave. I pull it from under the bed, dusting it off, and spot the transceiver next to it. I quickly turn it on.

'Hello?'

'Grian-' Chokes back Jimmy. 'Grian you found it.'

'Yeah. What happened?'

'Tango's dead- Impulse is going to the Crastle for war...'

'War?!'

'Yes, I don't have time... Me and Scott had to run... they send guards after us... But... Meet us at the Crastle. We can join in with what you're doing.'

'Wait, wait, wait... Has Impulse left yet?'

'Y...yeah.'

Panic fills me. We can't stop Ren if Impulse does it first. And if they all catch on to what we're doing...'

'CUB!' I run from the room. He appears, a bag of what looks like gunpowder in hand.

'Bad news. Impulse is going to the Crastle. Now.'

'Now?!'

'Yes!'

'We can't get over to them fast enough on foot...'

And then I remember something. From ages ago. Something Ren told me.

'We need someone who can fly, Grian. We need wings.'

'Wings?'

'We thought you could be the first test.'

'I have an idea.'

I run into my own room, Cub close behind, finding the right floorboard, opening it as I explain.

'You know how I said, right when we met, that I had an alter ego?' I heave a large white rucksack from the hole, unzipping it, and pulling out the wingsuit and mask. 'Meet Poultryman.'

He blinks at me.

'Wings. Ren... Tested the idea of wings. Back when I was helping before. It was abandoned after the vault quest when I ran. Because I took the only working model.'

'I remember. Ren wanted to test it on Scar but... I said if he did I'd help Impulse win...' He sees me struggling to get it on. 'Here. Let me help.'

He does. There are too many straps to fit on, too much to get right, but when it is on it's light, comfortable, despite the size of the wings folded inside it. I take deep breath, donning the chicken mask.

'Let's go.'

'What's the plan?'

'I fly over now. Cause a distraction. Take some of the gunpowder with me. Blow stuff up. Meet with Jimmy and Scott. And then you come in when you arrive and take out Impulse.'

'What if the wings don't work?'

'I plummet to my death.' A pause.

'No.'

'Cub, I'm doing it. I'm sure it works... I tested it a lot.'

'Grian..'

I snatch the gunpowder and matches from Cub's hand.