Release

Chapter 30

Release

“HOW YOU DOING Ki!”

She looked over her shoulder, taking cover behind a deserted truck. She was huddled up with several other rebels, taking pot shots at any soldier they found in their crosshairs.

“ALL GREEN, DON’T WORRY I GOT YOUR BACK.”

Ki, Pulled the trigger on his rifle emptying everything he had left into the soldiers attempting to flank Haiden and the rebels. He ejected his clip, Inserting the last one remaining, he jerked the slide back, loading the chamber.

“YOU LEARN QUICK KI, I LIKE IT.”

Haiden fought through the shaking in her aim, standing up out of cover and firing into the soldiers in front of the group.

“LET’S KEEP IT MOVING HAIDEN, WE CAN’T GET STUCK HERE.”

“AGREED.”

Haiden rose to her feet, rushing from behind the truck following Ki into a restaurant. They cut through the dining room, navigating through the numerous battles being fought between the mechs and rebels.

“HURRY HAIDEN!”

Ki grabbed Haiden by the strap of her overalls and tossed her into the kitchen. Narrowly avoiding a barrage of bullets, Haiden slid across the laminate floors of the kitchen. She recovered, standing to her feet as Ki fired off the last bullets in his rifle. He tossed the rifle to the ground and followed Haiden out the back door of the kitchen.

“The station is this way.”

She was unarmed running through the alley, out into the open streets of Applegrove. Ki kept a close eye on the surroundings as they weaved through the chaos. Haiden grabbed the railing, quickly turning and running up the stairwell to the station’s platform. Ki’s bucket hat flew off his head, and he didn’t bother going back for it. Instead, he grabbed hold of the railing and took large steps up the stairwell. Haiden was still positioned at the top of the stairwell by the time Ki reached the top. He looked at Haiden who had a devastated look on her face as she looked over the stalled train in front of her. His mouth dropped when he observed for himself the destruction left behind by Gabe and Daphane.

“What the hell happened here?”

Ki slowly walked closer toward the train, its windows shattered and its pristine appearance, now was marred by bullet holes and the blood of the rebels.

“I hope Atif and Autumn weren’t on this train.”

Haiden followed behind Ki as he stepped inside of the train car. They looked at the carnage laid out before them; shattered glass and shredded flesh burned an image in Haiden’s mind. The stench of the mangled corpses was too much for her, she couldn’t bear it. Darting out the train she stuck her head in a trash receptacle and started to vomit. It was a lot of anyone to stomach, even Ki found himself fighting his gag reflex, especially with the sound of Haiden heaving in the background. He stayed diligent, Looking over the bodies for Autumn and Atif.

“KI GIVE ME A HAND!”

Haiden shouted, Ki looked over his shoulder, gazing out of the train at Haiden as she rushed toward the stairwell. He ran out of the train, seeing Autumn supporting an injured Atif up the staircase.

“Atif, Autumn what happened?”

“We ran into some trouble along the way.”

Atif grit her teeth as Ki picked her up off her feet and started carrying her, Autumn and Haiden followed close behind Ki as he carried Atif into one of train cars that wasn’t littered with bodies. He laid the injured Atif down on the seats of the train car.

“Ki help me hold her up!”

Ki assisted Haiden remove Atif’s jacket, exposing the several wounds she sustained during her fight with Duval. She looked over Atif’s wounds, calculating her approach, the bite wounds, knife wounds and gunshots. She raised her hands over Atif and started to channel her essence. Autumn took a seat across from Haiden and Atif, lowering her head, dwelling on prior events. Ki sat next to Autumn, gazing in her direction, picking apart her demeanor. Trying to figure out what happened, he placed his hand on her shoulder. A gesture of comfort that Autumn shewed off. A bell chimed over the train’s intercom and the doors to the train closed.

“Next stop Northern Garden, doors will open on the left side of the train.”

The trains intercom chimed once again, and its doors closed shut. The once stationary train started to move, gliding across the tracks with ease. Atif screamed in pain as the lead bullets planted in her shoulder slowly oozed out of her wounds. Ki removed his jacket, grabbing his shirt he took it off. Giving Haiden the fabric to use as bandages and wipe away excess blood. He looked back to Autumn, who was lost in her own world. Something had to have happened, he knew that much, but what?

“Autumn what happened?”

She balled her hands into fists, staring at her blood-stained sneakers, still feeling the lingering anger. She took a deep breath, opening her eyes she gazed at Ki, who was genuinely worried about her.

“We ran into a soldier with tribal ties to Atif, I took it too far. Ki, I’ve killed someone. I don’t know what happened, one minute I’m fighting with four wolves trying to tame them the next I’m standing over a pack of wolves tearing apart a man viciously.”

Haiden was focused on her task at hand, but she was listening to Autumn, feeling for the tamer. She remembered how she felt after her first kill, the sinking feeling in her stomach, the look in his eyes, it was all coming back. Haiden focused harder on Atif’s wounds, pushing her own emotions aside.

“It’s not your fault Autumn, Look at Atif, she wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t done what you did.”

Autumn looked up from the ground at Atif, who was resting, breathing calmly while Haiden tended to her wounds. Her eyes started to water; wiping away her tears, she turned her head to look at Ki.

“No, there were other options, it was essence corruption, I let it get the best of me.”

“What else did Shima tell you?”

Ki gave Autumn a stern look, the four of them riding the train to Northern Garden to meet up with Locke.

***

He casually leaned on the counter of the front desk. He held the receiver of the telephone to his ear. Smoking his cigarette, he ignored the panic of the citizens that took refuge from the battle to listen to the phone ring.

“Sidna, Lorenzo, you take care of that thing?”

“How did you get this extension?”

“Sidna lets not bickers over the incidentals, is my painting on the way to Coastal Garden or what?”

“Yes, it left with the convoy this morning.”

“Thank you, you be careful now things are getting crazy out there, and your lobby is getting crowded.”

He hung up the phone, exhaling a stream of smoke from between his lips. He flicked his ashes on the floor, not caring about proper manners. He knew Sidna and the rest of the organization members here were destroying evidence, whipping away any traces of the snake organization. Lorenzo took his last puff and flicked the cigarette on the elaborate carpet he once admired. He had on an expertly tailored dark grey suit and wore a white dress shirt. Unbutton at the top, like his suit, the dress shirt was tailored to his dimensions. Given the young mafioso, a very polished appearance that contrasted with the disheveled appearances of those around him. He pulled back the sleeve of his suit jacket, looking at his fancy watch he examined the time. Lorenzo weaved through the mass of bodies gathered in the lobby of the building, making his way toward the exit. He pushed the door open, and the once muffled sounds of gunfire and sirens amplified.

The door shut behind him, looking around, he observed his surrounds. The streets of Busaya were still in upheaval as rebels rushed down the road paying no mind to Lorenzo. He reached inside his jacket, grabbing at the pistol he had holstered. He pulled the hammer back, behind the concealment of his jacket lapel, slowly removing his hand and adjusting his appearance. Slicking his hair back he walked up the street toward the Northern Garden station. His time in Busaya finally running its course. With the riots going on his exit would be clean, the rebel’s distraction creating a perfect opportunity for the strategist. Using his knowledge of Busaya’s inner workings, he planned to use service tunnels that extended beyond the dome of Busaya into the surrounding mountains. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he casually strolled up the street, pondering his next move. Visualizing every pit fall that could present itself in the coming weeks. The Feast of Saint Caprini was just around the corner, presenting him with his only window of opportunity for the next four years.

***

A crisp breeze blew over the bridge leading toward the Aerostation. The bridge was cluttered with abandoned cars, and the bodies of various casualties. Onyx alongside the founder ducked behind the cover of a crashed car, bullets ricocheting off its crinkled frame. He was running low on ammo, and the rebels were closing in. He loaded his rifle with his last magazine, peeking from behind the car he got a good look at the group closing in on his position. Onyx motioned for the Founder to stay still; He slowly raised his rifle and leaned out of cover. He brushed the trigger of his rifle disabling two of the rebels with shots to the legs. Rolling out of cover, Onyx discharged his rifle, its shots echoing into the night. He dropped another with a flurry of bullets to her chest, and piercing the neck of another. Standing up he advanced on the defeated rebels, kicking away their weapons he executed each of the wounded, leaving the rebel shot in the neck to bleed out. Raising his rifle, Onyx scanned his surrounds, looking for any other possible threats.

When the cost was clear he called for the founder to follow him further over the bridge. From this distance the city of Busaya looked beautiful in the light of the moon. He tried reaching command, his attempts were futile, there was no response on the other end. Onyx lowered his hand from his ear and looked over in the founder’s direction. He was calm and composed, Onyx couldn’t fathom what was going through his head right now. The two of them finding a moment of peace after battling their way through Northern Garden.

“Mr. Solomon, we can’t stay here much longer, we need to get moving.”

Onyx walked closer to the founder as he looked out over Busaya.

“My son was lucky to have someone like you in his life.”

He didn’t turn to look at Onyx, closing his eyes he took in a deep breath. Inhaling the scent of the sea. He listened to the lapping of the waves crashing against the concrete pillars of the bridge. His hands folded behind his back; on the surface he looked unphased by the recent developments. Onyx was about to speak, when the founder cut him off.

“I know, just a little longer, I did always enjoy Busaya’s skyline. You’re a good soldier Onyx; your father would be proud of you and brother. If you don’t mind me asking, is there a girl in your life?”

Lowering his eyes, Onyx exhaled deeply, it had been a long time since he thought of her. Walking closer to the founder Onyx shouldered his rifle, looking out at Busaya skyline for himself.

“There was one, but that was a long time ago. Why the sudden curiosity Sir?”

This wasn’t the time or the place for matter like these. But who was he to be closed off, especially with his commander-in-chief. He owed this man and his lineage for what they accomplished in the last ninety-eight years. Without them, who knows what state the world of Aurora would be in.

“It doesn’t hurt to entertain the ramblings of an old man, now does it?”

“Some people go their whole life not knowing what Love truly is, let alone what it feels like. Then there are the ones that know love and know what it feels like to lose it. I’m the lather, and the love I had for that girl was undying.”

Onyx smiled, images of Avilla and the moments between the two of them materializing in his mind’s eye. For a moment he could feel her touch, the warmth of her breath, the lavender scent of her shampoo. Her burgundy eyes, sending chills down his spine. In that moment, onyx finally realized why he was so drawn to that member of Deathwatch, Keyon. The founder was about to speak further; he couldn’t gather the words as a blade pierced through his chest from the back. Onyx turned to face the founder in complete shock. There behind the Founder, Keyon thrusted his katana further into the Founder’s upper body, gripping the hilt tight, he twisted the blade leaning forward, whispering in the founder’s ear.

“When you see my father tell him I sent you.”

Keyon pulled the blade of his katana out of the Founder’s body and tossed him over the railing into the darkness of the bay. The sound of the Founders body plummeting into the bay bounced off the bridge’s concrete underbelly. Keyon swiped the remains of the Founder’s blood from his blade before sheathing it. He didn’t look in onyx’s direction, completely ignoring the soldier that utterly failed his mission.

“There is no reason for you to die here, run and never come back.”

Onyx was dumbfounded, staring blankly at the assailant in front of him. He couldn’t make out his features; they were hidden underneath his New Aurora battle armor. His reflexes kicked in and Onyx attempted to draw his rifle to the assailant. But Keyon was faster, grabbing the gun by the barrel he aimed it downward, striking Onyx in the neck with his forearm. Onyx disengaged, letting go of the rifle and drawing his sidearm. Firing off several rounds at the assailant. Keyon maneuvered quickly, drawing one of his katana and with the assistance of essence was able to deflect the bullets with ease. This little feat of Keyon’s caught the attention of Onyx as he readjusted his aim and took several more shots at Keyon. Each shot missing its mark, he watched with keen eyes as Keyon darted out of the line of fire. But Keyon didn’t hide, and instead stood there mockingly, waiting for Onyx to make the next move.

“Deflecting bullets, his speed and the way he moves. He is using essence. That would explain why the others were taken out so easily. It’s him, Roland can’t use essence and that is not a figure of a woman. This must be him, this must be Keyon.”

Onyx tossed his pistol to the side, he had no more use for it, not in a situation like the one he has before him. He raised his hand as light particles started to materialize a katana of his own. Grabbing a firm grip on its hilt Onyx unsheathed his new weapon of choice, pointing it in Keyon’s direction. Keyon chuckled a bit at the sight in front of him, stepping forward a few paces, Keyon stopped in his tracks. Taken off guard, he watched Onyx positioning his body into a sword stance all too familiar to him. His anger started to rise, and his essence flared, witnessing his soldier, this nobody using his father’s fighting stance. He darted forward, closing the distance between the two. Keyon leaned to the side, avoiding Onyx’s thrust and launching a vertical slash at the would-be bodyguard. He lowered his blade in time to parry Keyon’s attacks, sparks flying from the clashing of blades. Keyon kicked Onyx back creating a space between the two.

The two men circled each other, each not removing their attention from the other. Keyon placed his hand on the hilt of the sword on his hip, slowly he drew the blade revealing the katana with the butterfly handguard. Onyx tightened the grip on his sword and reinforced his stance. Standing face to face with an inescapable situation. Keyon kicked up dust as he rushed toward Onyx. The soldier didn’t wait, meeting Keyon halfway and clashing swords in a barrage of sword strikes. Neither man gaining ground on the other. Onyx shuffled left avoid a slash from Keyon that torn through the frame of a car. He had no time to recover, instantly going on the defensive and blocking another attack from Keyon. He pushed his hand against the side of his blade to assist in the absorption of the blow’s impact. The force of the attack propelled Onyx sliding across the concrete into the side of a truck. He rolled to the side dodging a wild slash from Keyon that marred the side of the truck with a giant gash. Taking a deep breathe Onyx eased the increasing tension he was experiencing. His heart was pounding out of his chest and his palms gathering moisture. He felt a slight tremor in his legs, unknowingly feeling the effects of Keyon’s essence corruption.

Keyon smiled from behind his helmet as he watched the man in front of him. Unable to hold that stance, his father’s stance that he taunted him with. But how did this man know that stance, he wanted to know, he had to know.

“That stance, where did you learn it.”

Keyon sheathed one of his swords, and mirrored the onyx’s stance perfectly, showing how to do it properly. Onyx smiled, his plan had worked, and his suspicion confirmed. The young man standing before him was the long-lost son of his teacher and mentor, the heretic Kezonto Highreaver the 3rd.