Rebel: A Monstercat Fanfic

064 - Heartbreak

Song of the Chapter: Sentient - Mr FijiWiji & Tülpa (Electronic)

(Noisestorm's POV)

I have to hurry before Tristam and Monstercat catch up. I wish I could have stayed longer, rested more, but if I had, they would've stopped me. At least now I can walk and think by myself. I have a huge headache, but I can live with that.

The city streets are oddly quiet. I take a deep breath, wince, and adjust my firework bag. The odds are not in my favor, but I will do anything if it means getting Phantom back. The words to Tristam's song My Friend run through my head. I can't stay here one more day. I swear to you, I'm not afraid ...

I'm not going to get anywhere without help. I need the MI. Without thinking, I set off a firework in the street, watching as the almost-invisible lights explode in the sky. "I'm ready for you, MI," I shout, emptying my backpack and gripping handfuls of explosives. I watch and wait as the MI cars and soldiers surround me.

"Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air," one of them orders.

"I'm looking for a man named Jensen," I say, keeping my voice calm. Some of the soldiers tense up or shuffle nervously. "I can tell you don't like this man," I continue as my headache stabs behind my eyes. "We're on the same side."

Before I can say anything else, a spray of bullets hit the cars in front of me. A few burst into flames, and a couple soldiers fall, dead or wounded. I spin around, suddenly afraid. Men in black and red rush toward me, guns drawn. I throw another explosive, taking out two of them, but they keep coming. The MI behind me fire, but miss each shot. The men get closer and I realize this isn't going to be a pleasant negotiation, so I spin around and try to run, but one of the men behind me tackles me and we go down hard. I wrestle away from his grip and run toward the MI, hoping they'll be more merciful if they catch me instead of Jensen's men, but their cars are speeding away, leaving me in dangerous middle ground.

Panicking, I throw more fireworks, but they throw off my balance as they explode and I fall. Three men grab me, yanking me to my feet. I pull against them, breaking out of their grips and taking off again.

I'm not afraid anymore. I'm terrified. These men are deadly and won't stop until they get what they want. If they can catch Phantom, what chance do I have? My terror pushes me forward, but I trip over something and fall to the ground for the third time. It's one of the MI's pistols. I grab it and scramble to my feet, but as I spin around to shoot, the butt of a rifle cracks across my jaw. I stumble back with a yelp and the gun slams into my gut, bringing me to my knees. The men grab me again, yanking my arms up and out so I can't move and prying the weapons out of my fingers. I still try to resist until I feel a shock of cold metal against the back of my neck.

A man approaches me, carrying his rifle almost too casually. "What do we have here?" he says, his voice taunting. "Aren't you the one from last night?"

"Where's Jensen?" I demand, and the barrel of the gun pushes harder against me.

The man laughs. "You're looking at him."

I swallow nervously and fight to keep the fear out of my expression. "Then you know why I'm here. Where is he?"

"Which one? Your broken friend? The child prisoner? The winged sniper? Or the traitor?"

My heart sinks as I hear the last title. Phantom would never betray us ... would he?

When the man doesn't get a response, he smirks and says, "Well, let's bring him back and get him talking. Get him some handcuffs and bag him."

I don't dare resist, since my jaw is still stinging and I can feel the blood trickling down my neck. They snap a pair of handcuffs around my wrists, keeping my hands in front of me. I'm yanked to my feet, but before we can even take a step, one of the soldiers turns and tackles me. The two on my sides let go and simply watch, so I land painfully on my back, knocking the wind out of me. This new soldier lands on top of me, slamming his gun sideways against my neck so I can't breathe. I try desperately to push it away, but the position of my cuffed hands and my arms makes it difficult.