Defying Terror

Chapter II

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July 31st, 2030, 9:45 am

The flickering light bulb above me buzzes and burns the top of my head. When I focus hard enough on the door, the concrete walls close in on me. I've been staring at that door for what seems like two hours, and no one has entered. The only movement in this room besides myself has been a security camera in the upper corner, panning the area slowly.

I woke up in this splintering, wooden chair out of breath, and a triangle of sweat on the neck of my t-shirt. My wrists are pinned to the arms of the chair by what looks like leather belts. They are really itchy, and there is nothing I can do about it. My legs are free to kick, although it would only waste my energy. I guess I could stand up, but where would I go? That door is probably locked.

I don't even remember what happened last night. All that comes to mind is me, at the Castle, glaring at a dead body when a couple of Imperial Guard guys ambushed me from behind. I don't know if I was the one who killed the body I was staring at, but that's what I think the two guards said as they handcuffed me. I'm surprised those guards didn't gun me down. They should have.
It's all over. The past four months of being on the run are done for.

The door clicks, and my attention turns right to the opening. Finally, someone has arrived. I've been waiting here forever.

A man enters with a clipboard in his left hand, and shuts the door behind him. He glances at me, and sighs. He adjusts his black tie over his white button-down shirt and walks past me for a moment. I hear the heels of a wooden chair being dragged across the floor, and the man reappears to my right side. He places the chair in front of me and sits, facing my way.

"I don't hear the name for nine years, and this is where it shows its face again. Here, in a Imperial Guard interrogation room, where only the worst are questioned." The man frowns and peers down at his clipboard. "I know you, Slater, but I can't believe that this is the man you've grown to become."

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean, you know me?" I don't know anyone from the Imperial Guard. The only person that I've ever known that was a part of them was my dad. He's been "missing" for ten years, though. They claim to be looking for him, but I'll believe it when I see it.

The man smiles faintly. "Slater, son of Calvin Tross. I've known your father since the first day of basic training, when we were about your age. Wait, you're seventeen now?" His grin grows. "My God, time flies. Look, I get it if you don't remember me, it's been so long." He holds out his hand, probably not realizing that my wrists are strapped to this chair. "Does the last name Manchester ring a bell at all?"

Manchester? I've never heard that last name before, yet it pokes at my brain like a thorn. I have no idea where I could have heard that name. He even said that he hasn't seen me in nine years, so I don't remember how he knows me. He's friends with my dad, but he acts like I know exactly who he is when I don't.

He pulls his hand back to the arm of the chair. "No? That's fine. We should really be addressing the elephant in the room, and that would be you. It says here, on this criminal report for a "Slater J. Tross", that you have been charged with twelve counts of murder, fifteen times for robbery, three times for arson, and, it says here, stealing an Imperial Guard truck and setting it on fire in the middle of the West Forest. I can't tell if I'm impressed or disappointed."

"What the hell? I didn't do any of that!"

"Try telling that to the officers that arrested you last night, Slater. They caught you red-handed, bashing that guard's head in. Trust me, we have a couple hundred witnesses for every crime you have committed, and they know that it was you. You put yourself into some really deep shit, kid."