Ezra

Sitting between Riku and Jordyn, I stare out the side of the helicopter as we break out into open air. The others form a guard around us, protecting the cargo inside.

"Thomas?" I blurt, looking up. Thomas doesn't take his eyes off the air. Instead, he nods to let me know he's listening. "Where did you get all of this?"

Riku snorts beside me, a clear sign it wasn't an honest means. Yet, the sheer mass of our attack force is mindblowing. The Rebels are a motley crew of broke teenagers and adults. We usually fight with handmade weapons, and yet here we are flying out in helicopters with wi-comm systems and radar tech. I've trained on this sort of technology, but never once have I used it outside the headquarters.

"Let's just say we borrowed it," Thomas replies.

"From who? I mean, who has this sort of--"

My voice cuts off as realization hits.

"No, you didn't," I say, eyes going wide.

Thomas glances back at me, and Riku doubles over in laughter. His voice is almost carried away in the wind. Jordyn watches him curiously, but her canyon eyes tell me that she's really somewhere else. One of her hands is wrapped in Samson's, and the other turns white as she clenches it into a fist. She let go of the handrail once the heli stabilized.

"We didn't have much of a choice, Ezra," Thomas says, and I snap back to attention. "Riku was followed home from your failed mission. Murano's forces raided HQ within hours of his arrival. Everything we had was decimated."

My heart sinks.

"What happened to the orphans?" I ask. The children wouldn't stand a chance.

"We made the decision to focus on getting them out instead of fighting back. Which is why we didn't have much left. We might be outnumbered, but we're not helpless. You know that."

I nod, swallowing. Jordyn's watching her father now, reading into the words. I saw her face back in the control room. She doesn't have a clue who he is. There wasn't even a glimmer of familiarity or sadness--just shyness. I don't know if I can get used to her being fragile instead of invincible.

"Stealing isn't something we generally do," I remind Thomas. "We don't even steal food."

"Then think of it as borrowing, and be grateful. Although, I probably won't be returning the tech anytime soon."

We stop talking after that, a clear sign that I should just let it drop. I'm not happy with stealing, but it was from Murano and we did need it to escape. I guess that justifies criminal acts--necessity.

A long several minutes passes of us staring out helicopter windows and open doors at the landscape below. Ahead of us, there's nothing but empty Texas landscape, patchwork fields of grains and desert. I'm so used to seeing the gray metallic landscape of the city that it's mind blowing to see all this empty land. No buildings blocking out the sun; no black asphalt snakes turning ninety degree corners every hundred-plus feet.

Instead, it's hills blanketed in switchboard green and pocked with microscopic shrubs and desolate ruins of wooden houses. To be honest, it looks like someone dropped a bag of trash and it scattered in the wind. Yet, it landed in such a peaceful and clean way--far enough away from the rest of the trash to look perfectly placed in its spot.

I glance over at Jordyn as she stares out at the land below. What is she thinking about? Does she remember when she used to live down there amidst a land of wild tranquility? Was her home as scattered and unkempt? I've never thought to ask her, and my opportunity may well be lost.

"Where are we going?"

Her voice makes all of us jump--Sam more than anyone else. His head swivels around to look at her, eyes watering from the wind inside the cabin. Thomas glances over his shoulder.

"To the east," he replies. "Where the rest of our people are waiting."

We have people in the east? Since when?

"Won't Murano just follow us across The Barrens?"

Thomas shakes his heads.

"All that talk of the east being a wasteland is complete garbage." He rubs his cheek. "It's not a perfect place, by any means, but they have enough weapons and technology to hold their own. Murano won't risk everything to chase us that far."

"What if we don't make it there?" Jordyn continues.

Riku scoots up on the edge of his seat to add, "You know, that escape was a little too easy. We didn't run into any of her guards. There's no way they're just letting us take her and run."

Thomas swallows, letting out a long breath afterwards.

"No, she's not," he agrees after a long minute. "I figure they'll be showing up any time now."

Jordyn's eyebrows sink into her eyes, and the glare that she shoots at him is by far the meanest look I've ever seen come out of her. Even in her murderous rage with Neil earlier, she was calm-savage. This is unfiltered, unplanned.

"You led us out of there knowing good and well that we're just going to be shot down before we actually make it to our destination? We aren't sheep, Thomas. You can't lead us to the slaughter like this."

Thomas stares ahead, his jaw clenching. The air in the helicopter has dropped a hundred degrees.

"I'm not going to lead you to the slaughter," he mumbles, obviously furious.

"Then what are you doing? Because we're flying targets! Half a dozen helicopters? You're going to lose men, and you know it."

"No, I'm not."

Jordyn slams her fist against her leg. Her face twists in pain, but it's still holds such ferocity that I back up a little.

"How. Are. You. Not."

"Because," Thomas shouts, reaching his breaking point, "we have Samson."

Sam sits up straighter, and his mouth opens and closes like a fish. I touch his shoulder and he glances at me in wild panic.

"Not to ruin your obviously well-thought out plan, Thomas, but they've been wiped. Sam doesn't even remember how to use his training."

"And that's where you're wrong, Ezra," Thomas says, tossing a bag back towards us. Sam catches it easily, unzipping it to pull out a gun the size of his arm. "You see, I've done my fair share of research with the MAT, and I know what it can and can't do. It can erase photographic memories, sure, but it can't erase muscle or other sense-based memories. Smells can trigger memories; adrenaline can force survival instincts out of a person."

Sam stares down at the gun in his hand, eyes glazed over. He's lost for a minute in whatever world that gun's bringing back to him. Is he in the training room or shooting with Thomas on a rooftop in the deepest of night? Thomas is right, though. If Sam can remember how to use it, then we aren't sitting--or flying rather--ducks.

"Sam," Thomas says, making the boy look up. "Can you do this?"

"Do what exactly?" Sam asks in a shaking voice.

"Can you hit a target from almost a mile away?"

Sam glances back down at the gun. I've seen him hit targets from a greater distance than that; Thomas is just shooting low.

Without waiting for an answer, I open up the laptop that Riku handed me, pulling up the radar tech they used to locate Murano's forces. Those dots are long gone, left in the dust of our helis. Ahead, though, quickly approaching, is a new threat. A line of green, flashing dots.

"Thomas, once again, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but..."

He looks at my face, then the back of the laptop, then ahead again.

"Sam..."

Jordyn puts a hand on Sam's shoulders.

"Can you do it?" Thomas repeats.

Jordyn leans in and whispers something to Sam, and he grins feebly.

"I can try," he finally admits.

And just in time.

We cross over a hill and the trucks appear in the distance--beetles against a brown blanket of dehydrated dirt. Sam levels the gun with his shoulder and leans recklessly out the open door of the helicopter. Riku scrambles across to belt him in before hurrying back to his seat.

I've seen this a thousand times before. I know what he can do. Yet, I'm still nervous for him. The price is too high if he fails. I reach for Jordyn's hand, almost pulling back once I realize what I'm doing, but thankfully, she takes it, surprising me with her death grip. She leans in and cups a hand over her mic.

"How is that gun going to take out a vehicle, Ezra?"

The wind grabs at her voice. I'm the only one that hears her.

"Just wait," I whisper back.

"Now, Sam!" Thomas barks, and the gunshot explodes around it. The metal of the helicopter vibrates from the noise, and Jordyn threatens to rip my fingers off. Each of us lean forward as Thomas keeps the vehicle steady, watching the line of trucks and vans beneath us. The field is speckled with white-clad guards, like dandruff almost.

I count the seconds under my breath, waiting for impact. The suspense drives a nail through my chest and hammers at the inside of my skull.

Like clockwork, three seconds pass, and the first vehicle explodes. Fire erupts around it, and smoke spirals through the air. The heat wave slams through the nearest other truck, sending guards flying through the air.

"How?" Jordyn hisses, uncovering her mic so that we can all hear her.

"Impact Bullets," I say. "Teeny tiny explosives."

"My God," Jordyn whispers, her hand shaking as she covers her mouth.

Her eyes are a mixture of terror and shock.

Does our survival justify killing handfuls of Murano's guard?

A/N: It's been a while! I feel like I've lost some people... That's what happens when I fall off the face of the planet. Thank you to those that are sticking around! I loves all of you. 

The votes came in, and I will be making the urban fantasy (Ignite) public after The Island is complete. I'm aiming for the end of May! Have you checked it out, yet? Please, please, please do! I don't know how to make a hyperlink in a story (Pls halp the old lady.) but I'll copy and paste that below. It's on my profile! 

https://www.wattpad.com/551305565-ignite-coming-soon-characters-aesthetics/