The plasmatic bolt splits through the first technician's skull, and exits out the last. All twelve sway, then collapse like ragdolls. The hologram fizzles out, though the silence of millions of people permeates the air, thick of nothing but complete and utter shock. Ben stands agape, staring at where the hologram used to be. That wasn't real. Ben thinks, though it's more of a prayer. This isn't real.
"Ben..." Joaquin murmurs, hovering a hand just above Ben's back.
Ben's entire body quivers, and he's all too aware of his physical presence. His violently shaking hands, his eyes burning from tears, the nausea twisting his stomach. That could have been the last of them. The last of my family. Ben's clenched teeth force apart as he releases a wail of pure agony, his tears falling down his cheeks. Ben clutches the fabric at his chest, desperately clawing to console his shattered heart as he convulses with sobs, falling to his knees. They bruise and ache against the stone ground. Beside him, Joaquin kneels and wraps an arm around him.
"No!" Ben screeches through gritted teeth.
"You couldn't have stopped this-" Joaquin consoles.
"Yes I could!" Ben shouts.
The silence of the courtyard is deafening, the only sound Ben can hear being his own rushing blood, and faint ringing.
"Ben..." Joaquin murmurs.
"It's my fault." Ben shakes his head.
"Ben, get up." Joaquin insistently hisses.
Ben whips his head towards Joaquin with a sneer, about to berate him for his revolting lack of empathy. Then, he sees Joaquin's face. He's entirely expressionless, though his eyes tell otherwise: they're wide and focused over Ben's shoulder. Curiously, he glances behind himself, spotting a dark, bulky silhouette lurking in an alley.
"Target Acquired," the silhouette speaks, breaking the ambient silence that had woven into the air.
Like infant spiders breaking out of their silken eggs, hundreds of soldiers swarm the courtyard, emerging from alleys and rooftops. They surround Ben and Joaquin completely, leaving no gap to escape.
"Run!" Joaquin shouts.
"What?- Where?" Ben gawks.
Joaquin jumps to his feet, grabbing Ben's arm and forcing him up as he begins sprinting, simultaneously inputting a distress signal to Dannika. Ben's feet drag on the ground behind him and scramble to match pace with Joaquin. In an instant, gunfire rains down upon them in a blinding array of plasma. Ben feels every single bolt that hits him. He heaves a breathy whine of shock at the sharp, tingling pain, lacerating every nerve that makes contact with the bolts. His legs drop their movement, his entire body going limp.
"Ben!" Joaquin slows his pace, swooping Ben into his arms before continuing to run.
Joaquin raises his arm up against the gunfire, the bolts dissipating along his armor, as if shattering lightning. He speeds towards the only available escape: an unguarded window of a residency. He braces himself, and Ben, before leaping and crashing through the pane of glass. Joaquin moves to roll his land, hovering Ben above the shards of glass as best he could. Soldiers surge the window, ending up bottlenecking the gap, allowing Joaquin to continue running. He kicks down the door of the building he had entered and emerges onto a dim, narrow street. Glancing over his shoulder, the soldiers had broken through. As he turns around to pursue his route, he's faced with soldiers now blocking that path. Joaquin stands in the middle of the blockade, walls of concrete and armor enclosing the space around him. Nowhere to go but up. He thinks. Joaquin flicks his eyes up to a fire escape about 7 feet above his head. The jump wouldn't be easy without cybernetics, though for Joaquin, of course, that isn't a problem. The problem, however, is the 6'1" man unconscious in his left arm.
YOU ARE READING
Descension
Science FictionExiled by a tyrannical government and betrayed by his brother, Ben Anderson is hurled from his status as one of the world's top elites and plunged into a dystopian reality. The clock ticks as a revolution comes to its apex, and the fate of humanity...
