Lyrea never wished for an early death. No one does. Especially not her, considering the immense responsibilities heaved on her shoulders.
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But with the events unfurling in the past few days, it seems as if she had just signed her death warrant. The betrayal of Puerto Rico left a severe dent in the integrity of Resistance, and that was the last thing she wanted. Her recklessness resulted in the execution of 11 members. More than the mass murder, it was the publicity. If they had died by an explosion or something more unnoticeable, the weak morale wouldn’t be a consequence. Although Yellow Death Squad, a militant group sanctioned by Harley to suppress Purple Resistance, has now relaxed their search, Lyrea was sure Harley wouldn’t rest till he got her. So, she was sure that this journey for hiding the Three Relics of Odysseus would be a one-way journey.
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Right now, treading upon a creaking staircase breathlessly, Lyrea placed each of her feet carefully. She tried to ignore the fact that she never expected any intruder, and that she was seriously under-prepared to fight off anyone, and focussed on getting her job done; which was hiding the first Relic.
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She reached the pale, wooden door and waited for a second. Anyone who wanted to attack her could do it now because she was unarmed and positioned herself in a vulnerable spot. Seconds stretched into minutes and Lyrea decided to make a move. She placed her sweaty and nervous palm on the door handle. After a finalized breath, she slowly twisted the handle, each groan and creak rising in opposition to her. The whine and tinny, hollow sound declared proudly of the new visitor to anyone occupying the house shamelessly. Finally, when the door was finally open, she held the handle close to her, gripping her Photon Slinger tightly, the hum produced by the weapon soothing her nerves. When her gut whispered that it was the right time, she swung back the door and barged in with her Slinger pointed to the person sitting comfortably on the couch. Due to the plain darkness that occupied the room, she was unable to figure out the person’s face. Yet she pointed her weapon straight at his face.
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‘You be a good boy or I will peel off your face right after I have blasted it,’ Lyrea said loudly, making herself clear. ‘Now with one hand held up, switch on the table lamp.’
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Surprisingly, the person slowly lifted his right hand in the air and crept his left hand to the table lamp and gave a gentle tap to its base. The moment light fell on his shoulder, Lyrea gave an involuntary gasp and had to restrict herself not to discharge a blast straight to his face.
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‘YOU A*****E,’ Lyrea spat and took a step back, not able to believe her eyes. It was Zachary, with the same foxy smile and pointed face. His wavy hair was neatly kept, indicating that he gives it a lot of care and need. He looked at her apprehensively, a smirk tugging on his curvy lips.
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‘Give me one good reason not to blow your face off,’ Lyrea said in a deadly whisperer, her voice uneven with the fury she was suppressing.
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‘I have a nice face and a good jacket,’ Zach offered with uncertainty. ‘And that you are in my hou- NO.’
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The wine bottle aside Zach disintegrated into debris as Lyrea, out of pure anger and hatred, launched a blast. The glass shards stuck into Zach’s face and some of the bottle’s contents splashed onto his face and hair. Lyrea remained in her position, unfazed, her weapon still kept straight to his injured face.
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‘Are you crazy,’ Zach cried, his skin prickling with pain. He tried to remove the splinters from his face, the intolerable pain blistered with helplessness.
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‘Listen you backstabbing b*****d,’ Lyrea called out, seeking some level of satisfaction from his state. She kept the Slinger dangerously close to Zach’s pained and bleeding face. ‘You gotta pay for the blood you spilt.’
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Suddenly, Zach’s facial muscles tightened. ‘I gave the information because they had me at the end of the gunpoint.’ But slowly, his facial muscles relaxed and with a chuckle amidst the pain, he said, ‘plus their purses were heavy.’
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Instead of immediately reacting by pulling the trigger, she was suspended in a state of disbelief. Tears threatened to stifle her aggressive behaviour, making her weak and vulnerable. Her grip on the weapon slackened, grim reality obscuring her decisions. Tears filled up to the brim, blurring her vision for a moment.
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At the exact second, Zach swiftly sunk his fist into Lyrea’s stomach and made her crash to the floor. Zach jumped up from his seat, and using the limited time of Lyrea’s disoriented state, Zach tried to grab the Slinger from her grip. But she tightened her hold, and stood up kneeling, holding the Slinger at him. Zach held up his hands in surrender, closely observing her tempting fingers laced around the trigger.
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‘Stop it for God’s sake,’ Zach said calmly, motioning her to drop the weapon. Lyrea responded by making one of his wooden cupboard victims to her Slinger.
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‘You betrayed your brethren,’ Lyrea growled, the burst of pain on her belly too painful to ignore. ‘Betrayal is not something I could easily forgive.’
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Zach and Lyrea locked their eyes, her reluctance to kill him stretching out the time. With a flick of his hand, Zach stated away the weapon and slammed her head to the leg of the couch. Zach’s heavy hands kept her shoulders pressed against the cold wooden planks and rolled over, snatched the weapon and aimed at her. Zach stood up and watched Lyrea sit on her feet.
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‘So you kill me? Just like that?’
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‘Depends on my mood.’
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‘Can’t believe why you turned out like this?’ Lyrea asked sorrowfully, a heavy weight dropping to her heart each time she spoke. ‘What happened?’
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Zach sniffled. ‘Don’t tell me that I don’t feel anything. I know I made a mistake … thought for myself and it ended up in the dirt. I tried to take a bullet. But didn’t have the guts. Each day passes on like I’m a corpse. You know I won’t hurt you.’
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‘Why the exception?’ Lyrea asked as she stood to her feet.
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‘Because you helped me when I had a crisis. Plus … the Resistance is just a circus,’ Zach scorned. ‘It’s a bunch of clowns. I can’t still get over the fact that you guys seriously think that you can topple Harley?’
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‘And I can’t still get over the fact that you chose money over trust?’ Lyrea shot back at his comment as she snatched the weapon away from his intentionally loose fingers with disgust.
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‘They had me at gunpoint. It wasn’t just the money, all right? And… you don’t know how things are down here. The rich keep getting richer, while we scrounge. Lick off their plates. I have to survive.’
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‘The exact reason why the circus is still going on.’
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‘So why the visit? I’m sure you didn’t miss me,’ Zach said after a pause.
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‘The only reason I’m not gonna blast your face off is because I think … you could help me,’ Lyrea said, ignoring his question and standing up on her feet.
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Zach hesitated for a moment, his mind comparing different possibilities. But before he could speak, she said, ‘Sh*t no … you are not gonna involve in this directly. I’m not crazy. I want you to … err … yeah, hold a secret.’
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Zach looked confused for a moment, his eyebrows stitched together in doubt. ‘What secret.’
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‘The secret is still in the bag and you won’t know it.’
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‘How can I keep a secret if I don’t know what it is?’ Zach asked her request not making any sense to him at all.
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‘This is all you’ve gotta know. I have hidden something in your house. I want you to keep the house safe. It should stay exactly as it is now. Nothing else, nothing more,’ Lyre said as she looked closely at the mini dashboard on the slinger, noting the increased rate of BCG.
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‘You are kidding, right? Because I was gonna sell this place,’ Zach asked with a hint of doubt.
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‘You sell this house … I’ll be paying another visit,’ Lyrea replied cooly.
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‘It’s … fine,’ Zach grumbled, the situation foiling his mood. He walked past her and slumped to the couch, feeling restless.
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‘Anyway, why sell it?’ Lyrea enquired after realizing her murderous intent slowly drifting away.
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‘Because this place is not lit enough,’ Zach replied, shaking his head.
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‘What?’
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Zach looked at her with an annoyed expression. ‘You don’t know what is Lit and Bare?’
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‘Nothing you say makes sense,’ Lyrea asked, puzzled at the terms he was using.
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‘Last day … a survey was made that determined how technologically advanced was each place. Like how much the city and its people were tech-savvy. Those places were coined as Lit and the other places lagging on gizmos was Bare,’ Zach explained half-heartedly. ‘Lit’s land prices skyrocket and Bare was on the other end. They value nothing.’
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‘The same reason why I came here,’ Lyrea said unexpectedly and bit her lips at the unnecessary information.
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‘What do you mean?’
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Lyrea held her silence.
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‘Anyway, this house should be exactly like this.’ She then dug her hand into her pants pocket and retrieved a small, wooden statue of a smiling panda. He cast a longing look on it, memories associated with it swarming in her mind. She clutched it tight and looked away. Through her reluctant fingers, she dropped the figure to the floor and after a bounce, it lay near the doorstep. Zach examined the figure, and back at her.
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‘Remember, no change to this house. It’s very important,’ Lyrea warned again, looking at Zach straightly. ‘You’ve gotta do at least that for me.’
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‘Mmm,’ Zach said, his distressed eyes speaking a lot more than his words.
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Just when Lyrea exited his house and was nearly 5 feet away from the fence, Zach asked unexpectedly, ‘are they fine?’
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Lyrea swung back, and saw Zach, standing on the wooden staircase leading to his front door. The same creaking steps which Lyrea once, years back, walked upon to recruit him into the team after she saved him from an unruly gang.
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‘Yeah …’ Lyrea replied in a husky voice. He nodded his head in agreement, and she did the same. Zach couldn’t look into her eyes, the regret and guilt piled up behind his brown, stormy eyes. He could never.
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‘So where is our vehicle,’ Apollo inquired to Gray, who was gazing out at the sky, hopefully.
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‘Yet to come,’ Gray replied, not taking his eyes off the sky between the thickly intertwined trees and canopy of leaves. Apollo, for a few minutes, joined with Gray, gaping across the sparse expanse of a cloudless sky. But then he finally got distracted, not even knowing what he had been looking out for. Finally, he walked away from Gray and sat next to Phoebe on the ground. She wore a puffed-up blue jacket paired with blue jeans. She was in deep thought, not realizing Apollo sitting next to her for a moment. She smiled at him and said, ‘Feeling pretty tense, right?’
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‘Hundred per cent… who knows it's gonna work out,’ Apollo said, lack of hope lightly surprising Phoebe.
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‘It's gonna work out… I’m sure,’ Phoebe said optimistically, giving him a pat on his shoulder. ‘Lyrea had planned all this. And wanted you … to assemble it.’
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Those words lit up Apollo, positivity and confidence being planted by Phoebe. ‘Thank you,’ Apollo expressed his gratitude to Phoebe, and she returned a warm smile.
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‘So who are we waiting for?’ Apollo asked as they watched Gray disappear into his tent.
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‘It’s a guy … um … you should meet,’ Phoebe replied carefully.
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Suddenly, Apollo noticed a black figure descending towards them. At first, it was just a black spot moving in the sky. But after a few seconds, Apollo noted the increasing speed and size of the figure. Apollo stood up and walked forward, amazed at the approaching object. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Ariana, in beige pants and a black t-shirt, walking past him. The air seemed to increase its intensity, blowing much harder than usual. Dry leaves and tree branches began dancing in the air. The black figure was now a maximum of 100 feet in front of them. After what seemed an eternity, Apollo got a close look at the aircraft. Levitating in mid-air, the pure spectacle took Apollo’s breath away. His attention is drawn to the massive, swept-back wings, stretching out like the wings of a predatory bird. They can almost feel the power emanating from the advanced rotor mounted along the wings, hinting at the sheer force contained within. The wind now started howling like a wolf, weak branches getting ripped away from the tree. The mini-storm whipped their clothes and hair, and Apollo instinctively put his hands in front of his, as if trying to block the wind.
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The aircraft slowly touched down, and the ground shook in response. The harsh sound of rotor blades beating the air slowly decreased. Upon the window panel at the front of the aircraft, Apollo could perceive someone in the cockpit. A ramp retracted on the side of the cockpit with a tinny scrap, and a green, metallic, polygonal door with a width of almost 100 inches slid open. The moment Apollo’s eyes fell on the pilot, who now reached the ground from the ramp and stood transfixed at him, Apollo’s mood switched from awestruck to bloodthirsty.
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‘YOU F*****G A*****E,’ Apollo screamed as his blood turned to ice and bolted towards Zach, who took a step back in defence. Within a few quick paces, he stood directly in front of Zach, who had an anticipated look on his wolf-ish face. Apollo glanced back at the group, who were much near to Apollo than before. He turned back closely at Zach, his dilated pupils and face, which was white as a ghost. ‘You dare to show your face?’ Apollo managed to say, his voice thick with pure wrath.
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But even before Zach could form a reply in his brain, Apollo slammed Zach’s head into the aircraft's body, and Zach fell to the floor, clutching his head in pain. A swarm of hands pulled back Apollo from Zach and he tried very hard to wiggle free. But Gray’s one enormous grip on his shoulder temporarily diffused his fury.
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‘Calm down, Apollo. Calm down,’ Akeera repeated like a mantra, as he laid his eyes on Zach, who was now trying to get onto his feet.
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‘Why is he here?’ Apollo was enraged and snapped at Phoebe, whose glasses were askew.
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‘Because I was here when you were being a scaredy cat,’ Zach interrupted with a contorted expression, and that resulted in adding more fuel to the fire. He tried to charge again, but the sea of arms restrained his violent behaviour. Apollo growled like a wounded lion, eying Zach maliciously, creating mental images of brutally murdering him to satisfy his vengeful craving.
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‘He traited us. Bit us in the back,’ Apollo fired at Gray, who looked him straight in the eye.
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‘He became good,’ Akeera breathed with great emphasis.
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‘What the f**k is that supposed to mean? He was the reason for the incident in Puerto Rico!’
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‘Not like you being the reason for Vancouver! Anyway, I made a mistake, you dumba**! I’m making repentan- Why should I even bother to explain?’ Zach replied in a monotonous voice as if he was bored by the unexpected situation.
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Apollo couldn’t believe Zach’s audacity to speak like this. Apollo weighed on the situation, accepting a silent, rather embarrassing defeat. He shook himself up, communicating to them to let go. He paced towards Zach, each step making his mood ascend steeply. He stood face to face with Zach, and a demon inside Apollo reeling with the lack of blood on his enemy.
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‘When the dice rolls in favour of me, when both of us are in a room … alone … I promise that I’ll rip your throat away.’
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‘I’m looking forward to that … chilling moment,’ Zach replied, with a wispy smile, further provoking Apollo to crack his windpipe.
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Before he knew it, he was buckled with a plethora of seatbelts that made him think twice about the possibility of breathing. A mixture of smells of petrol and wool burning bombarded his nose. Ariana and Phoebe were seated directly in front of him. The seats were made of a slightly blue metallic frame, and cushioned on the seat. Each was provided with a screen that was mounted on the arrest, which acted like a dashboard with information like the location, temperature, wind speed, etc. Apollo looked sideways and looked at Akeera, who too looked disgruntled for his arms and chest were pinned towards the seat.
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‘I hope this gets over soon. It seems my stomach is in a blender,’ Akeera said in a strangulated voice and glanced at Apollo weakly.
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Apollo didn’t reply, for his mood didn’t allow him. He closed his eyes, ignoring the sick feeling inside his gut. The aircraft continued to manoeuvre through the air and Apollo felt its motions like enjoying a sea breeze. Apollo concentrated on the sick feeling and used it as a method to forget about Zach. Suddenly something struck Apollo, momentarily forgetting the illness.
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‘Akeera … Zach said something about Vancouver… what was it?’
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Akeera looked at him blankly for a minute, and Apollo instantly knew Akeera was holding something back.
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‘It … uh … we were in jail.’
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Apollo froze for a minute, the answer giving him a blow. Whatever he expected, this was not it.
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‘What do you mean by jail ?’ Apollo asked in a shaky voice.
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‘It was after Lyrea went solo. We didn’t know what to do … or like anything. She just disappeared without telling us anything. We tried our luck and went to Vancouver. It was Zach’s tip.’
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‘What happened then?’
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‘The worst. We got trapped by Yellow Beasts, the soldiers by Harley to take us down. They put us in jail. Iman managed to get away … but we were put through hell back and forth,’ Akeera narrated, as the aircraft suddenly lurched mid-air. He adjusted himself in the seat with minimal movements, letting out a sigh in the process with his eyes closed. ‘It could’ve been avoided if you just … told us that she left. Zach was right.’
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Apollo spent the rest of the flight gazing out through the 3-feet large window pane on his right, with regret squirming in his chest. Birds and smaller aircraft zipped past them in a streak of colour and speed. Rooftops of various buildings and sky-touching skyscrapers had a great view from his seat. They passed from Lit places to Bare places, the former piquing his curiosity while the latter giving him a shot of cold reality. He periodically observed the interiors of the aircraft even though his interest to explore this aircraft greatly diminished upon Zach’s arrival. Yet, the interior was a symphony of elegance and minimalism. There were 7 seats in total, each looking the same as the other. There was a deck at the far end of the ship with an oddly fitting dining table. The pilot’s cockpit was next to the Directory Panel and had a faint-blue hologram acting like a door.
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‘The birdie is gonna land. So you might come across some giggles,’ Zach announced through the intercom. Apollo unknowingly gripped the handle of his seat as the aircraft began to descend. He was suddenly hit by nausea and bouts of sweating. Apollo looked outside the window to distract himself for the last seconds. The place they chose to land seemed to be a plain, bare and undulating land. Most probably a mountainside. Impoverished trees stood tall, elating a sense of bad feeling towards the neighbourhood that was to their right. The aircraft finally touched down, and finally, Apollo was out of the confinement of seatbelts. He got out through the retractable ramp and was relieved to feel the natural air. The moment his feet touched the barren land, he got shivers. Apollo walked a few feet at that instinct, looking around for an unknown danger.
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‘Apollo …’ Phobe called out, snapping him out of his lookout for trouble. Apollo turned back to face her.
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‘I ran my Locator. It's ahead.’
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Apollo nodded, while at the same time looking out for the slightest sense of a bad omen. Apollo stole back a glance at the aircraft, and at Zach through the thick pane of dark-coloured glass at the helm of the aircraft. He was seated comfortably on the plushy chair with his legs stretched upon the controls.
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‘How long do we have to walk,’ Gray asked with a stiff yawn.
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They trod upon an uneven patch of land that held a sea of mountains on the opposite side. The day was losing the last of the sunlight, and twilight was breaking. Apollo however was disturbed. He was not sure what drove that mentality, but it was so real. Like a feeling of uneasiness when you are under-prepared for a test. He couldn’t believe that the cold wind and a few fragile trees made him feel distressed about something that he even doesn’t know.
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‘It's near. 500 metres … are you fine Apollo,’ Phoebe asked as she saw Apollo rubbing the nape of his neck. Apollo looked at her with a sigh, his eyes conveying the reply.
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‘The Locator is kinda accurate if that’s worrying you.’
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‘No … it’s something else. Like … um,’ Apollo considered for a minute about the possibility of explaining his feeling that something bad will happen. ‘I’m not sure about this.’
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‘What do you mean? You were the person who found out about Canberra,’ Ariana said, agitated up, her eyes flaring up.
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‘No, no,’ Apollo quickly said. ‘I’m not saying that-’
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‘You guys are overcomplicating it. He had a bad hunch. That's it,’ Iman interrupted, as she continued walking, passing by Apollo and Ariana. ‘Stop bickering and walk.’
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They continued their walk for about a minute, occasionally pausing for Phoebe as she analyzed the Quantum Locator, which produced a constant whirring sound, with a confused look. They seldom talked during their stride, with Apollo silently taking the blame for their spoiled atmosphere.
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After an hour or so, they reached a sparse patch of land which held many houses line by line. It was a neighbourhood and Apollo guessed it was inhabited because of the wild bushes that covered a huge part of houses and the creepers that veined the walls. As they edged near the house, Apollo could hear the Locator beeping at a fast pace, assumedly because they were nearing the location. Everyone’s attention was fixed on Phoebe and her Quantum Locator.
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‘I guess it’s … the house number … 88,’ Phoebe whispered as she glued her eyes to the screen of the tablet-like device on her left hand.
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They started to walk at an increased pace, and Apollo could sense the transition of the mood of the group from disbelief to hope. As they neared house number nine, his heart began thundering and his breathing becoming more heavy.
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‘No one’s here,’ Akeera said, scanning the house as they finally stood behind it’s pale-green, wooden gate. The one-storey house, which was surrounded by fragile trees, looked untouched for years. It had a small yard which was hardly 10 steps from the house.
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‘This has to be it,’ Phoebe confirmed, more in a doubt-strained voice.
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‘But why here?’ proposed Gray as he slung over the large backpack and gently placed it on the ground.
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‘I would say it was bloody brilliant,’ Phoebe replied with a surge of confidence, which was something that the group lacked. ‘This place falls under Bare territory, cause the technology is not up like the others. Plus the land prices here are down. Apollo, do y- Apollo?
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But Phoebe’s voice was imperceptible to Apollo as suddenly, the name board of the house made Apollo’s blood turn to ice. Zachary’s residence. Apollo’s lips moved in silence, the implication of those two words shattering his thought process. Apollo stole a glance at the house, a ghostly face reflected from the pale, wooden architecture.
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‘Apollo …’ Phoebe shook him to the core, a ghostly expression washed over him. Finally, Apollo pulled back himself from the shock and looked at her, her face etched with concern.
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‘What happened,’ Phoebe stole a glance at the name board, almost dismissively, ‘what’s the …’ she looked back at the name board, horror-struck.
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‘This was a ploy. A f*****g ploy,’ Apollo whispered, exhaling through his gritted teeth. But a question loomed on his mind. Why?
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‘I never thought …’ Akeera trailed out after he just announced the surprise. Everyone took their turn to gasp at the shiny name board, which looked relatively newer than the house. But Ariana was the only person who just acknowledged it with a blank acceptance.
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‘If the Locator points here, we gotta check out this place,’ Ariana said, once they walked past the opened gate.
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‘I gotta go…’ Apollo said, his voice trembling with doubt, fear and anger. ‘I’ll go and meet Zach. You guys check here.’
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‘No,’ Ariana straight away dismissed and Apollo was not in a mood to lay down to her instructions. ‘We need you to find that thing. It might have been associated with your guys’ memories or someth-’
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‘Ariana …’ Apollo called her calmly, his last bit of calmness quickly disintegrated due to the inferno inside him. ‘I … am not in the mood to listen to you. Got it?’
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‘Apollo … please … you will make it complicated. APOLLO,’ Ariana cried out at him, who already strode past the gate with a kick.
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‘APOLLO,’ Iman yelled and ran after him. She ran past the groaning gate, in a bid to reach up with Apollo. The rest of them watched Apollo climbing up the hill with mournful eyes.
———-—————————————————————————
‘Listen bugger, I got them.’
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‘Well that’s a pleasant surprise, Zach,’ Harley said gleefully, his eyes fixed on the cluster of white dots on the screen in front of him, moving slowly towards their destination.
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‘Now leave me alone,’ Zach pleaded, while not stooping too low.
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‘Okay … your wish. What about the money,’ Harley said, leaning back on his plush leather chair dramatically, chest filled with excitement at the success probability of this mission.
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‘Shove them up in your a**.’
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‘Quite a surprise again.’
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‘F**k off.’
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Zach cut the call with a swipe of his hands over the communication board. He rested his head over the neck rest, closed his eyes and dwelled on the solemn silence. An alert made him jolt up, and Zach observed the communication board, frowning. It was Apollo and a young girl.
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Zach taped the screen board like it was piano keys and switched on a few keys and switched off another set of keys. The engine silently let out a roar, ready to take off.
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‘Come out, you sick buf**n,’ Apollo cried out, his voice echoing against the massive build of the aircraft. Apollo breathed like a furious bull.
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Zach took a deep breath and proceeded his way out of the ship, passing through the crammed upstairs and cranky rooms. Before he walked out through the ramp to face Apollo, Zach took a deep breath, trying to fade into his demonic behaviour, just like how Lyrea requested.
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‘Well, well, well. I like your choice of words.’
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‘What are you hiding,’ Apollo asked, ignoring frequent calls from Iman to avoid this confrontation.
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‘I guess this conversation would benefit from better questions,’ Zach asked, his mind juggling to decide whether to drop the truth.
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‘What’s your deal in this mess?’ Apollo shot, blood boiling underneath his skin.
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‘Apollo, this isn’t a good idea,’ Iman asked, tugging at his wrist.
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‘I don’t know?’ Zach scratched his chin as if thinking about it. ‘Maybe she liked my house …’
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Apollo forced a pathetic laugh and looked around. ‘I know very well that you are hiding a lot.’
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‘The question is not what I am hiding. The real question is … what you don’t know?’ Zach teased, inching closer to Apollo, with light steps. ‘Let me ask you … do you even know who killed your wife?’
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Time stopped. His heart continued pounding. Everything under his feet started spinning. Iman started sobbing, her wails seemed to be imperceptible to him. Apollo wished for this agonizing situation to end. It was too much to bear, questions and answers sharp as a double-edged sword. A part of him didn’t want Zach to reveal it.
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Zach caught the cuffs of his colour, jerked him towards his mouth and whispered to his left ear, ‘one of your team members, those f*****g clowns, killed your wife. The fun fact … you still trust them.’
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‘Please stop,’ Iman said after a convulsive gasp, and Apollo was released from Zach’s grasp. He took a few steps backwards, his body heaving with each gasp. Crickets started chirping all of a sudden, or probably Apollo only heard it by now. He shot a glance at Iman, who looked back at him with bloodshot eyes, mouthing him something Apollo had trouble recognising.
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‘Please A-Apollo … don’t listen to him … le- let’s go back,’ Iman pleaded, her body shaking noticeably. A sudden burst of blue streak light, missing Apollo by mere inches, hit Iman on her feet. She tumbled mid-air, shrieking and collided face-first with a tree. Apollo fell back in horror, and peeked in the direction of the attack, only to see a battalion of drones zipping past between trees at them.
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‘Best luck saving your friends,’ Zach yelled, scurrying off the ship through the ramp. Streaks of blue and yellow lights whizzed past Apollo, injuring the trees and setting the leaves on fire.
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Filled with trepidation and mind blank with terror, Apollo ran towards the spot Iman was lying and hauled her over his shoulder. Surprisingly, it weighed more than Apollo anticipated. He staggered a few steps and nearly tripped over a rock. Immediately, Apollo hid behind a thick, humongous tree to correct her position on his shoulder. Suddenly, something else caught his attention. It was a Polaroid photograph, which was something that fascinated Apollo from his history books. The photo had a boy with sunken eyes and dark, curly hair, smiling with a face strewn with pain and agony.
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Somehow, Apollo believed that it was Iman’s brother or someone related to her. Without thinking much, he slid the photo into his pocket and after heaving her again on his shoulder, Apollo ran.
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Since the mountainside had a natural descending slope, it was easier to run with a weight loaded on him, as it gave him more momentum. But no chance of controlling his sprint and more instances of tripping over, plus the increasing pace of the drones.
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Apollo fully embraced the rush, the wind enveloped him and her. Iman was now nearly falling over his shoulder, and he had to keep his arm twisted at a weird angle to pin her onto his right shoulder. Rocks and thick roots made the opportunity for him to fall head first. Apollo had to run amok, to prevent the drones from closing on him. He continued his sprint, legs aching with pain and back almost broken, while at the same time navigating a safer route. All this time, his mind was completely wiped out from the emotional turbulence. He has one goal: to reach others.
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Apollo could now see the neighbourhood, almost a mile away. As he continued crushing dry twigs and scattering leaves under his rushing foot, the drone suddenly let out a shot that was caught squarely on his back. Apollo flew in the air while giving out a sharp cry, dropped Iman with a sickening thud on the ground, and rolled on the ground. Dried, brown leaves stuck on his sweaty face, and Apollo groaned as his back started smoking. A few drones fled the scenes, ignoring Apollo and towards the neighbourhood, in search of the rest of the Resistance members.
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Apollo tried to get up, but immediately, like an arrow shot out from a bow, a drone collided with his back. He again slid to the ground, the wound on his back too painful to disregard. He shot a glance at the drones, the rest waiting for his demise. Again he tried to get up, but the moment he stood on his knees, Apollo grabbed a jagged edge stone and swung it at the drone. The automation ducked it, but one of the rotor blades got bent upon collision. At that exact moment, two things unfolded: the rest of the drones rushed towards him and Apollo, hauling Iman over his shoulder, ran for his life.
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The pursuit was rough. He received numerous scratches and bruises, owing to the branches and rocks. The firing went on, and Apollo was surprised at the fact that he was still alive. Finally, he reached the neighbourhood, as he passed the first abandoned house and went to find others. By that time, he was sure he broke his left thumb, had a huge cut on his back, and not even a muscle was left good.
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‘APOLLO,’ someone screamed, and Apollo stopped in his tracks, the drones now have spread everywhere, and were not found clustered. Apollo tried to kick the nearest one, but it was futile. Apollo collapsed to the ground, groaning at his fate. He looked around, with limited movement, at the voice who called him.
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From the corner of his eyes, he saw Gray, armed with a deadly weapon. He carried it in one arm, aimed at the drone and fired. The drone exploded to bits and fire, the soot making Apollo cough. He ran over to him, slightly humped down, and knelt beside him.
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‘Damn … you’re hurt,’ he whispered in a different voice, and not the regular deep voice. His towering height blocked a huge amount of sunlight, hence letting a shadow fall on Apollo.
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‘I can feel that,’ Apollo mumbled, as his white spots danced in front of his eyes. Suddenly, he remembered something. ‘Did you get the Relic?’
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‘Nah … they are still searching,’ Grey whispered, shooting a glance at the unconscious Iman. He snaked his hands into his cargo pants, pulled out a syringe from the pocket and gave it a gentle tap.
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‘I’m going,’ Apollo said back, trying to get back on his feet, but Grey pulled him down and said, ‘you are bleeding, you need rest …’
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‘I can’t rest without that thing, plus take care of her.’
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‘At least … take this. It takes out the pain,’ Grey offered, but in a flash, something hit him hard. It was Zach’s words. Those f*****g clowns killed your wife. And the fun fact … you still trust them.
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Apollo paused, the weight of those words dawning on him. It shook him to the core. Apollo turned back, his body feeling like rusted machines in an ancient factory. His mind, once blank with terror, was clouded with confusion. Only a single question loomed in his mind, like an intruder pounding on the door aggressively; are they worth the trust? Or is he spelling his doom like Lyrea?
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