Return : Book One in the Return series

Part 5 - Salvage

Limping towards the Junkyard, Matthew desperately tried to formulate a plan in his mind, but kept coming up with nothing except a bare skeleton, which he knew would lead to no avail, but regardless, it was the only plan he had, and he was determined to follow it , at least until he had a better idea.

  As the Junkyard came into sight, so did the monsters that lived within it. He saw the ripped open carcasses of once glorious ships, the twisted, broken parts of what used to be components. His heat sank as he realized the futility of his plan. Despair, fear and hopeless slugged him in the chest like a heavyweight boxer, and he thudded to the ground, realizing how his life has been crushed to smithereens, then ground into a fine powder in a matter of hours. The leader of the planet was coming for him. That person had indestructible robots, and a whole police force on his side, while all Matthew had was a slowly whittling away mind.

  All hope gone, Matthew sat, unmoving on the ground. With every possible step he thought of, two more horrible deaths sprung to mind. "I can't do this. What was I thinking, trying to escape the only inhabited planet in this system? Escaping to Earth? How in God's name was I supposed to accomplish that? I'm just a pawn, in a gargantuan system of gears and wheels, insignificant. Nobody would even care when I die, if they even found out."

  Matthew chuckled. Not due to any sentient form of happiness, no, it was far from that. He was slowly sinking into madness, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was the end of the road for him. Any escape would be futile. Even thinking about getting away from here would be a monolith task, much less accomplishing it. "I think I'll just sit here, rotting in despair, as Argent and his army comes for me, a bug in a ecosystem. There's no hope left for me."

  But then, just as he was slipping away, falling to the void of insanity, blacking out as the fringes of reality slipped away, a voice.

"Hey. What are you doing here?"

  A guardian angel? No, those were just myths. Besides , this one sounded remarkably gritty and deep for an angel.

  Matthew laughed now. Not just a chuckle, a laugh that would make the most insane madmen afraid. I must be really losing it now, he thought. People? Here in the Junkyard? No way. I have to be hearing things.

  But then the voice came back again.

  "Come. The Junkyard isn't a grave. For ships, sure, but for people? Ill-fitting."

  As Matthew saw his vision fade to black, he felt his arm being dragged, his back scraping on the tough, sharp ground.

  Ha, he thought. At least somebody will have a nice meal tonight.

  Then he was out like a light.