Defying Terror

Chapter L

August 28th, 2030, 12:16 pm

My heart slams against my ribs with every elongated stride. My arms crank with a rhythm to keep my legs stretching from one quick step to the next. The black Imperial Guard overcoat wedges against my upper body, suffocating my torso and trying to weigh me down. Beads of sweat line my eyebrows and hidden hairline.

The two figures I pursue sprint at the same pace as me so I can make no real progress to catch the prey. Once I get them, they're dead. They'll have to stop eventually, but I can run forever.

One of the shadows is further ahead than the other, but I'm okay with hunting the one that is closer. He's not fast on foot, though he's more aerodynamic than me with fewer layers of clothing. The ash-gray t-shirt over top of blue jeans matches his horrid, twisted soul. And every time his left arm swings back, I can see how his skin is manipulated under his elbow. Onyx wisps explode from the damned insignia.

But all of a sudden, black smoke surrounds him, and he is nowhere to be seen.

I come to a complete cease in a back alley, two blocks away from the Castle. I have already abandoned the ceremony; there's no going back. I don't even know if they'll let me into the Imperial Guard after booking it. I've come this far, and I won't leave without getting a piece of what's mine.

There is an opening where I stand, the loading dock for some kind of furniture store, from the looks of the nasty couches that lay out. The pavement below my burning dress shoes is worn with skid marks, made only by the trucks that frequent this station. On the other side of the alley is a brick building that only towers a couple of stories. There are no windows on this side, thankfully. What a dump this space is.

I scrunch my fingernails against my palms and scan the area for my target. No matter how hard I try, with the wind picking up and the state of affairs, my eyes can't stay dry. My cheekbones are damp and the creases around my nose run a river down to my lips. My teeth chatter, but it won't be cold for another three or four months.

If the Captain dies today, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself. He sacrificed himself for me, taking a knife that was intended for my heart. This is all my fault. But at least I will know who really killed him.

Things between him and I have drastically altered since I first met him last month. I really hated his guts because I thought he disrespected my family, but that couldn't be further from reality. But even though I was so adamant that it was the truth, he still tried to help me like nothing happened. He carried me out of the forest after the whole incident with Anthony Young at Tyson's Gorge. He comforted me when I found out my dad was dead and stood up to my mom when she attacked me. He told me he was scared for my life during the ranking. He accepted me like I was his own.

The felt of my jacket soaks up the water pooling under my eyes. I don't know. I mean, he was tough on me, but that's because he wanted me to be better. He was just looking out for me. Maybe I did see him as some kind of father figure to me since I haven't had one for the past ten years. But I never had the chance to tell him that, and I think my opportunity has expired.

I reach below my white button up and lace my fingers around my dog tag chain. I pull it out and watch the deep, blue outline of the eagle shine. My hand clamps over the plates to keep it warm. I press my teeth against each other, feeling the saliva build up on the sides of my mouth.

My head jolts upward at the cloudless sky. "Roarke, I know you can hear me. I don't know where you are but I know you're watching me and listening to me like you always are. I hope you know what the fuck you did, you coward. If you really wanted to kill me, you should just shoot me, stab me, or whatever, but not where other people can get hurt. Now, somebody very close to me is going to die because you were too scared to kill me in person. You were looking for collateral, and you got it. I hope you're fucking happy."