Shards Of Truth

Chapter 3

If Landon thought facing his sister was bad it was nothing compared to what came next.

Trials were nothing like they used to be in the good old days. There were no lawyers, juries, or witnesses, all the information went straight to the judge and it was up to him to decide your fate. Your 'trial' generally only lasted around 2 minutes; long enough for the judge to give you your sentence, but not so long that you could argue with him.

The judge finished reading something to himself and then focused on Landon, his eyes narrowing. Landon shifted awkwardly under his heavy gaze and a long stretch of silence ensued. The judge finally cleared his throat and said the words Landon could have never prepared himself to hear, "Grant, Landon, J. you are herby found guilty of the murder of Rose Winsten, and the attempted robbery of her assets. I sentence you to a lifetime of work clearing field D."

Landon's jaw fell open, his ears ringing. This had to be some kind of sick joke! "I don't even know who Rose Winsten is!" He finally managed to sputter.

"Young man," the judge said in a voice that was eerily calm for the livid expression on his face. "You are in a world of trouble, and I will not have you disrupting my court." He signalled to the guards, "Take this scum away."

The guard moved to lead him away but he thrashed against him, "I didn't do it!" He protested "I never murdered anyone! This isn't right!"

The guards pulled Landon away, but he wasn't about to make it easy on them, kicking and screaming the entire way back to his cell. The guards flung him inside and slammed the door.

"You can't do this!" Landon screamed pounding on the door. He was greated by the sound of the lock clicking into place like the last nail in a coffin.

"This can't be happening! You don't even know what you're talking about! Please, you have to believe me!" He continued to pound on the door until his hands were raw and blood stained.

After a good half hour without response the air seemed to deflate from his body and a numb feeling of resignation ran through him. He slumped to the floor, and buried his face in his hands, letting out a soft groan. Where did they even get the idea from? He'd been set up, but no one would ever believe him. He was going to spend the rest of his life, clearing minefields and power neutralizing waste from field D. The longest he'd ever heard of someone surviving was 3 weeks... Three painstaking, miserable weeks. Originals didn't believe in the death penalty, but if this wasn't one he didn't know what was. He was going to die in that sink hole, waste of humanity, and the only people that would even care would never hear what really happened to him. There'd be rumors of course, but nothing specific. The authorities liked it this way, said details would just bread unwarranted anger.

Landon had no idea how long he sat like this, hours? Minutes? Days? He must have dozed off at somepoint because he woke up to a tall, hardfaced man crouched down beside him, touching his shoulder. The events of the last 24 hours seemed to crash around him all at once and for one amazing moment Landon thought it had all just been a dream, but the musty smell and the four stone walls around him brought him back to reality too soon.

A shiver ran down Landon's spine as the man in front of him shifted, he was undoubtedly here to take him to field D, but that wasn't what bothered Landon. The man's enthusiastic smile, and the fact that he hadn't heard the door creak open on its rusty hinges were really starting to creep Landon out.

"What do you want?" Landon asked in what came out as a growling tone.

The man's smile just widened, not helping the eerie atmosphere. "Why, to offer you a deal of course."