Bonus Story #1: On the Planet – Bringer of Chaos #MFRWhooks

In the Bringer of Chaos series, which is comprised of a novella and three books, there are also numerous shorter stories. At the end of the novella, Lights Out, although Pietas and Six were born as enemies, survival is beginning to make them allies. In this scene, Pietas is trapped in a non-functioning lifepod, and Six is being dropped out of a shuttle along with him. Unlike the books, each bonus story is told first in person. This story is told by Six.

On the Planet - Bonus Story

In the air, a worker tossed me my survival pack and a flat package, which I didn't recognize at first. When I hoisted it and saw the fastenings of a parachute, any kind thoughts I'd spared for humanity vanished. They weren't setting us on the ground. They were dumping us like garbage.

While they opened the bay doors, I struggled to slip on the chute and fasten my pack in front. With the wind whipping around me, I hooked my pack to the harness around my chest. The workers shoved his pod to the opening, and the shuttle banked, propelling the pod out the bay door, and me after it. The automatic emergency chutes on the pod opened but did little to slow its descent. They hadn't been designed to handle the extra weight of chains.

When Pietas fell, he let out a scream of silent rage that shook the heavens. Lemme tell you something. You don't hear howls of "empathic rage." They make no noise you can sense with your ears. You feel those suckers. It's like every negative emotion, every vestige of anger, and every terrifying thought mixed up and chased each other over your entire body.

A storm kicked up out of nowhere—and I mean no-where—turning the sky green. Every hair on my body stood on end.

I'd heard Ultras wielded emotions as weapons. Pietas used Chaos to force soldiers into panicked flight. Some claimed he could kill with it. Seeing the transport above me jolt like it hit a wall and spin off into the distance made me a believer.

Can you imagine if this guy had been at full strength?

From the air, I watched, helpless, as Pietas's pod hit trees on the edge of the forest. The chute ripped off, and moments later, the pod shot out from below the trees and slid down a slope, where it skidded to a stop on the edge of a river. I wanted to tear holes in my parachute to fall faster and get to him.

Fierce winds tossed me around like a paper cup. Lightning arced through the green sky. My skin tingled with it. I'd be lucky to make it to the ground without getting fried.

Seething black clouds blotted out the sun. In the distance, twin plumes of black smoke boiled into the air. No doubt the transport had broken into pieces. They'd gotten what they deserved. At the time, I thought it odd they'd be so far apart, but I had my own survival to worry about.

It took everything I had to keep control and land where there weren't trees.

When I finally touched down, I cast off the backpack. Fighting the wind, I gathered up my chute, and stowed everything under a bush. I ran in the direction I recalled seeing his pod fall. From the top of the first hill, the view of endless, tree-lined rolling slopes terminated at the edge of a river white with rapids. No pod in sight. It could take days to find him.

For the next three days, as soon as it was light, I alternated searching the water's edge and climbing trees to get a better view. On the fourth day, I'd climbed half-way up a tree when I noticed a gouge in the distance. I dropped to the ground and took off running just as it started raining.

When I reached the pod, I had a burst of hope. Despite being stuck in mud and half-submerged in shallow water, at least the chains had broken. Only one length still wrapped it, and that lay near the closest end. I had a short pry bar in my pack. It hadn't come with it; I found the bar one of the few times they let me out of the cell. Hid it under my shirt and then stuffed it into a corner of my pack. If I could wedge the bar under the edge of a link, maybe I could work the chain down far enough to slip it off.

I took off the pack and dug through it for the steel bar. I wiped rain from my face and trudged into the mud, railing at myself for taking so long to find him. What if I couldn't budge the chain? How was I ever going to pry it open far enough to get him out before it filled with water and drowned him? The unit weighed as much as four grown men. No way I was dragging it back to shore by myself.

The whole thing was probably academic anyway. Not even an immortal in good health could have survived that fall. After more than a year in that hell hole, what chance did Pietas have to survive?

I told myself none of those doubts mattered. My abuela didn't raise no quitter.

Tell you one thing. If the Corps thought to end an immortal warrior with no off-switch, they picked the wrong man to carry it out. Knowing Pietas as I do now, I don't doubt saving him would have made my abuela proud.

Likely, I'm the last surviving member of Ghost Corps. If my last act is freeing this man, then maybe my death will finally mean something.

I jammed my pry bar under the nearest link and heaved.

Some bonds are forged in battle.
Others begin in chains.
~ A Bonus Story in the Bringer of Chaos series ~