Children of the Gamma

chapter four || i || zion

[ word count : 1,898 ]

If you asked Zion to describe telekinesis, he would say that it's turned his very life into a convenience. Existence in itself has improved.

Funny that his telekinesis seems to make other people's existences miserable.

Or nonexistent.

His own existence feels pretty miserable at this moment, trudging through the alleys of the Gamma Sector when he'd rather be in his bed.

"If you didn't feed off chaos the way you do, you could be in bed," Maroe hisses into his ear.

Frowning, Zion adjusts the earpiece. Had he said that out loud? This has been happening more and more often. "I don't feed off chaos." He skirts around a trash bin teeming with stray cats.

Maroe's laugh is harsh. Zion can almost picture his expression, that sharp mouth twisting over a plain of scars. "We both know that's not true, Zion. You left Hale's Corona to oversee a riot you had planned, correct?"

Zion's silence is enough for Maroe to continue.

"You left the dragon to hatch on its own, thinking you could return in time to capture it—and free your friends, right?"

Zion grits his teeth, a worm of anxiety weaving through his chest. He reaches to fiddle with his mask, only to find that he lost it in the riot. Not that it matters—it's too dark for anyone to recognize him. Even if someone did, they would have enough sense to turn and walk in the opposite direction. He wouldn't even have to look at them. "They would have escaped the bunker and killed the dragon if I hadn't secured them."

His little sister could be among the pile of ashes that was once Hale's Corona. And Dizzy. April.

He could live with that boy converting to ash. Zion didn't like the way he had looked at him.

"In the bunker?" Maroe's voice yanks Zion back to what's in front of him.

He slows his pace. "What?"

The revolutionary leader is quiet for a second too long for Zion's liking. "You secured your friends in the bunker?"

Despite the dank chill of the Gamma's streets, sweat beads along Zion's forehead. "Yeah. Of course I did." He bites down on his tongue as he recalls his original plan: Set up the hatching for the dragon. Leave to lead a riot. Return to capture the dragon and free his friends. See their reaction to his power, to Maroe's secret weapon. Convince them to join him and Maroe.

The last three didn't work out, because, as it would happen, riots are quite disorganized. Zion hadn't been able to get through the crowds to return to Hale's Corona before it burned down.

Sometimes Zion thinks his soul was beyond corrupted, inside and out. But then that little part of him that hopes makes him question himself.

It hopes that they escaped.

He knows April. She'd sooner kill her own self than let her friends die.

He used to love that.

"Any sign of it?" Maroe asks.

Zion scans his surroundings. The buildings have given way to an expanse of overgrown weeds, spreading all the way to the river underneath the bridge that divides the sectors.

"No," Zion answers, "but I have an idea of where it would've gone."

His boots crunch against the dry grass as he heads toward the bridge. When Maroe first entrusted him with the egg, Zion began to read up on dragons. While there hadn't been any information about raising a hatchling, he did learn that dragons and beasts tend to flock toward water, as most animals do.