Façade (DISCONTINUED. Revised and redone as a webcomic)

Chapter 10: The Changing Pacifist

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Day 004 1:30pm
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When Aspen shouted that information into the phone line, my stress level shot through the roof. So much so that the phone slid from my fingers and made a cracking noise as it hit the fractured pavement.

Shaun, Triumph, Echo and Dust turned to look at me in confusion, then shock when I began driving my heel into the phone until it snapped in half.

"Dude, you okay?"

Shaun asked me curiously.

"That was Aspen. She told me to destroy my phone and that the CEL is heading for our location. Right now."

I hissed under my breath, fear and panic rising in my chest.

Triumph walked up to me and placed his hands firmly on my shoulders. As he looked into my eyes calmly, he murmured,

"Calm down. It's gonna be all right."

As if the situation couldn't get any worse, we heard the sound of one of the CEL's tactical hovercraft overhead.

"Shit! Get into cover!"

Triumph shouted as the engines buzzed ominously overhead, just out of sight.

The four of us followed Triumph as he shot through a hole in the wall of the ruined building to my left. Just as Dust ducked in, a blinding white spotlight bared down on the alley. Mini tornadoes of dead leaves, dust, and gravel spun through the narrow passageway outside the hole as the craft began to descend slowly. A haze of dust cascaded off the roof of the building across from this one as the craft landed on its surface.

Triumph held a finger to his lips, to which Echo nodded. It took me a moment to process why he nodded. I didn't laugh, though. This wasn't the time to be laughing.

The aircraft's buzzing growl gradually fell to a soft mumble, followed by the sounds of indistinct voices above us. One voice boomed above the rest, making me bite my lip as my skin prickled.

"Get your asses in gear! Look for any signs of Adlet activity!"

Damn. It was that monster, Garrett Pine. If we fought, at least one of us would be dead.

Heavy boots on dozens of feet clanked down a rusty fire escape across the way.

"Shit."

Triumph whispered.

We scooted away from the hole's entrance to sit among the chunks of cement, ash, soot, brick and old glass bottles for cover. Yet Dust paused and his eyes went wide.

"Oh, fuck me."

He breathed, clasping a hand over his mouth.

Confused, I stole a quick glance around the edge of the hole to see what he was so upset about. There were a few paw prints, claw marks, and droplets of blood in the alley where the fight between Dust and Triumph had occurred.

I yanked my head back into cover as a soldier shouted that he'd found paw prints.

None of us dared to even breathe. However, as the four of us stayed stock-still, Shaun furrowed his brow. He slowly reached into the deep pocket of his baggy blue jeans and withdrew a water-bottle-sized plastic pouch with clear liquid inside it. We watched in silence as he slowly reached out in front of him and grasped the neck of an aged green bottle.