Ben Chaney - Son of Sedonia

“Emergency Eject Initiated!” The Scout’s canopy blasted off of the frame.

“Wha—?”

FWOOSH! The seat launched and Jogun blacked out for a split second. BOOM! He awoke screaming inside an O 2mask. Wind roared in his ears as an intense heat churned below him. His vision cleared, and he looked down. A swirling fireball blackened beneath him as he drifted helpless above it. Sedonia Tower had been slapped with the shockwave, but still stood. The wind pushed him straight toward it. I can still do this! The roof landing pad loomed ahead, but the closer he got, the more the seat’s weight pulled against the parachute. NO! Coming in too low! He struggled in his harness. Managed only to turn it as he crashed through the top floor windows.

Screams, his own and others, stirred together in the crashing chaos. The ejector seat chassis dug into the floor and ground to a screeching halt. People got up from the floor, dazed and bloody. Ears ringing and nose bleeding, Jogun’s senses gathered out of the fog. He twisted the release on his harness and took out his uzi. Stood up with a sharp whirr of his augmented legs. More screams.

“Everybody down to the bunkers, NOW!” shouted a man’s voice from somewhere. Must be the man in charge. Jogun focused through the blinding headache, raised his uzi, and fired a long burst into the ceiling. Everyone around him froze as he turned the weapon on them. Their faces. Downcast like beaten dogs. Their whimpers stung Jogun in the chest as his finger faltered on the trigger.

“N-Nobody—” he ripped the oxygen mask off, “NOBODY MOVE!”. Wind howled through the window as wires sparked and papers fluttered. Jogun’s heart throbbed in his neck, his mind drowning in panic. No Matteo. Only terrified men and women dressed up like black and white statues.

“What do you want?” said the same voice from before. Jogun whirled, pointing the gun squarely at the source. A graying man stood behind a desk, his olive skin glistening with sweat in the flickering amber lights. He held his hands up.

“You in charge?” asked Jogun.

“I… I’m Governor Sato. Anything you want, I’m the one to get it for you. Please let them go… you don’t need them,” said the man. Jogun looked around the room at all the expectant faces. Nodded, keeping the uzi barrel trained on Sato.

“Get the fuck out! All of you!” Jogun said. The group quietly shuffled to their feet. Ducked low as they scurried out of the room. Jogun stepped over shattered glass and torn furniture as he walked toward the desk. Stuck the gun in the Governor’s somber face.

“Thank you…” Sato said, “Now… what do you want?”

Jogun darkened. Clenched his teeth.

“The brother you stole from me.”

“Brother?” asked Sato. Jogun yanked the bolt on the uzi with a sharp click. Pressed the gun to Sato’s wrinkled forehead. Sato blinked. Swallowed.

“I don’t know about any brother,” he said quietly, “What makes you think I have him?”

“Kabbard.” Jogun watched the understanding slowly dawn in Sato’s eyes. A storming silence hung in the scorched air.

“Okay,” Sato finally said.

Sato led the way down to a round room with three doors. Never looking back, he walked to the center door. Opened it with a beep. The man stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the inside.

“Move!” Jogun shoved him. Sato stumbled and fell to the carpeted floor as Jogun took in the room. An empty wreck. Furniture flipped, table smashed, windows broken…and blood. A pool of it next to a bloody knife. Footprints of it smeared across the floor leading to—

Jogun clasped his head in his hands and dropped to his knees. The blood in his veins turned to liquid fire. His hands. His feet. His ears. His face. All of it went numb as the fact ripped his soul apart from the inside.

“Listen,” Sato said, “We don’t know wha—”

BRRRAPP! Jogun buried a three-round burst in the middle of Sato’s chest. The Governor parted his jacket and looked down. The pressed white shirt turned quietly red as he dropped to his knees. Jogun stood up with the buzz of servos. Turned a dial on his hip. As the familiar thump-whine-thump-whine pierced the air, Sato closed his eyes and waited.

The kick landed center mass, buckled the ribcage, and launched the Governor limp through the big bay window into the creeping edge of dawn. Fine, red droplets settled on the carpet. On Jogun as he flicked the dial off and let his arms hang. He looked out at the yellowing sky. Took a step toward it. Then another. A humming gathered over the ringing in his ears as he approached the high-arched window.

He stood on the edge and watched the first of the ships pass overhead and all around him. Gigantic gray-green war platforms escorted by tight squadrons of fighters. Other ships zoomed past them, hurtling toward the burning West. Explosions popped off in the distance. First among the pillars of the Inner Ring. Then throughout the Outer.

Jogun felt hollow. Blown through by the violent winds whipping into the room. It’s all gone. There’s nothing left. I’m nothing… He leaned forward, trying not to look down first. Did anyway. His chest heaved as the tower stretched forever below him in a sickening slope. But a landing just a few floors down caught his attention. It jutted out from the sheer glass surface like a garden oasis. The faint outline of a body lay still next to a patch of bushes. It wasn’t the Governor.

“MATTEO!” Jogun called out, hoping. The body didn’t move. He followed the bloody tracks on the carpet to the smaller open window.

“MATTEO!”

Jogun whirled at movement in the corner of his eye. Soldiers roped down through the windows of the suite, landing hard on the floor. They stood in unison, each armored from head to foot in bulky, gray-and-white camouflaged Augmentor gear. Ammo mags the size of cinder blocks stuck out of their giant weapons. They turned to Jogun, staring through blank, eyeless masks.

“Engage!” croaked one of their filtered voices. Jogun planted a boot on the edge of the window and dove as a deafening barrage of slugs tore the room apart.

Hurtling downward, Jogun kicked his legs underneath him. As the landing rushed up ahead, the soles of his boots started vibrating.

“OhhhHHHH SHIIIIITTT!”

His heels bit the concrete and punched through, driving his legs deep into the landing. A shockwave blasted the material out from around him in a deep, round crater. He doubled over, pain shooting through the rest of his body. But it subsided. The fall hadn’t broken him. He winced as he climbed out of the crater. Hobbled through elegant cafe tables and chairs to the body on the ground.

His brother lay unconscious with a raw gash seeping blood above the eyebrow and a soaked bit of cloth tied around the arm. A torn, bloody couch cushion sat off to the side. Jogun crouched beside Matteo. Hands shaking, he grabbed him by the shoulders. Shook gently.

“Matteo! Ahh God… MATTEO! Come on, little man, wake up! ”

THE VOICE REACHED in and pulled Matteo out of a pitch-black dream. He expected to open his eyes in their Slum apartment, staring up at the posters and magazine clippings he’d pasted to the container ceiling. Jogun’s fuzzy image gazed down at him, coming gradually into focus.

“Jo…?” Matteo said, lifting his head. He felt Jogun’s thin, aug-covered arms scoop underneath him and squeeze. Tears dropped on his shoulder. Matteo’s arms heaved up. Embraced his brother. Behind him, the blinking red light of Sedonia Tower came into focus, followed by the shapes of tank-like men jumping from the window above. Firing.

“JO!” Matteo yelled, pushing his brother to the side. Jogun rolled and staggered to his feet with Matteo close behind him as the concrete exploded in a hail of sparking debris. They sprinted toward the overhang in the side of the building. As Jogun kicked open the double doors, five armored soldiers slammed down behind them, shattering patio furniture in bursting shockwaves.