Song of the Chapter: Fugitive - Case & Point (Electro)

This one's really really long ... 4580 words ...

(Phantom's POV)

I stare at the city, fighting to control my anger. The MI and Jensen have completely taken over. Nitro Fun has been missing for four days. Au5 was shot and almost died. Dozens of artists are missing and some have already been killed. Monstercat, as alien as he is, can't do anything. We're losing.

I will not be broken.

Noisestorm puts his hand awkwardly on my shoulder. I realize that I'm shaking in rage, and try to calm myself. "Hey," my friend says softly. "It's okay."

"How do you know?" I snap. "People have died. The MI and Jensen are as powerful as ever, and we could barely take one of them!"

"Phantom," Tristam calls. "We're going to fail only if we say we are. Are we going to fail?"

I start to tell him that there's no way we can succeed, but then catch myself. I take a deep breath before answering. "No. We can do it."

"That's the spirit!" Noisestorm grins, punching my arm.

"Ow."

"Who says we're going to fail?" Tristam yells to the rest of the group. There's a collective groan from the crowd of maybe three hundred. "Who says we're going to make a difference?"

The producers explode with cheering and a chant rises up. "MONSTERCAT! MONSTERCAT! MONSTERCAT!" Even the other labels join in.

"I'm flattered," the alien says.

I smile a little. Maybe we do have a chance. "Noise, you have your team with the fireworks?"

"Of course." Noisestorm slings his bag off of his shoulder and pulls out a few. The others behind him do the same. "We'll pass them out and then we'll go."

While he and his team distribute the explosives, Monstercat wanders over to me. "Who knew we could come so far?" he says.

"It's awesome," I answer, feeling good inside. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Someone taps my arm. We both turn to see Braken there, looking embarrassed. "What?" I say.

"It's just that ... I don't think I should go," Braken mutters.

"Why not?" Monstercat asks.

"I have a really bad feeling about this." Braken drops his eyes and plays with the end of his scarf. "What if something happens again because of me? Like last time?"

"But that was so long ago."

"No ... a couple days ago. When Rootkit was captured. It was my fault."

"What are you talking about? Rootkit is over there." Monstercat points at him.

Braken follows his gaze and frowns. "I could've sworn ... I thought ... "

Monstercat sighs as he says, "I think you're remembering something that didn't happen. It might be from ... you know."

"What?" I ask. Neither of them explain. Monstercat simply goes to find Tristam.

I watch Braken for a moment, noting the fear in his deep blue eyes. "Everything's going to be fine," I say. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust Monstercat?"

"Yeah."

"And your fellow producers?"

"Yeah."

"Do you trust yourself?"

He hesitates. "No," he finally whispers. "I keep messing up. I can only do things right with Tristam. I can't even make music without him!"

"What about To The Stars? That's a beautiful song. It's one of my favorites." I smile as reassuringly as I can. "You'll be with Aero Chord. Just follow him and everything will work out. Okay?"

"But I can't - "

"But you can."

He sighs in defeat. "Okay. I'll do it."

I watch him shuffle away and almost feel guilty. We all know Braken is a pleaser. He'll do whatever anyone asks to stay on their good side. He longs to be appreciated. I knowingly used that trait against him.

Someone else pokes me to get my attention. It's Au5. I groan. "What do you want?"

"You shouldn't make him go."

"Why not? He's one of us and should fight with us, since he's not ... injured." My eyes flicker down to his bullet wound.

"You shouldn't make him do something if it's giving him anxiety like that."

I look over at him and watch him sit down on the ground with his head between his knees, almost as if he's trying not to pass out. "He needs to learn to be confident in himself. A little anxiety is good for that."

"Does that look like a little anxiety?"

"What do you suggest I do, then?"

Goldie shrugs. "You're the leader."

"No, I'm not!" I protest, but he's already wandered away. I sigh in frustration and spin around to grab some fireworks from Noisestorm.

"What's up?" he asks. "What did they want?"

"Nothing," I grumble. "I've taken care of it."

He tosses me some explosives. "Alright then. Let's get this party started."

The others cheer enthusiastically, waving their fireworks and random pieces of clothing in the air. Rogue waves his sword around and the group awkwardly makes a circle around him so he doesn't take anyone's head off.

"Remember," Monstercat shouts, "this is like four days ago. The only change is that Phantom is going to be more hidden. He almost got caught three times."

"Thanks for pointing that out," I grumble. He's not even accurate. The number is way higher than that.

Monstercat lists off some more plans, like frequent checkpoints to meet up at of anything happens. Again, we split into labels and the wounded ones, like Tristam and Au5, go back to the camp to wait for our return.

"Are you ready?" Noisestorm shouts, his voice cracking. He's imitating Nitro Fun. As annoying as he is, I hope the kid's okay.

He gets a cheer in response and we're off. Once we get there, we split. I'm by myself again, since everyone knows I work better solo. I stay in the shadows, ducking in and out of alleys, across the streets, just blur of shadow against the setting sun. I grip my lighter tightly and set out my fireworks near a parked MI car, grinning in satisfaction. Fireworks are supposed to be safe - if handled correctly. They weren't meant to be ignited in a building or under a car.

I wait for another minute until the first explosion lights up across the city, red and white fire balls shooting into the sky. That's the first signal to begin. I can just barely hear an alarm go off in the distance. Two more explosions light up the dusk soon after, and I grin again. I may be a wanted criminal, but I wouldn't trade this life for anything.

I watch the MI cars and a shiny black car race down the street, towards the explosions. They won't be able to make it in time. There have already been six or seven more, all throughout the city, where the other labels are hitting, too. There's too many of us and too much chaos for a small force of police officers to take on. I light my fireworks and run for it as the car lights up in purple and green fire, and then I get an urgent call. It's from Aero.

"We've got trouble - it's Braken."

My heart sinks. Maybe I shouldn't have made him come. "I can get over there in about sixty seconds. What happened?"

"Took a nasty fall. I think his leg is broken, but he won't let me check. We haven't blown anything up yet, but I don't want to stay here too long."

"I'll be right there." This was not what I had planned. Maybe Goldie was right. I definitely shouldn't have made him come. I light another smoke bomb as an MI vehicle speeds around the corner and break into a sprint.

Another truck skids to a stop in front of me. I can see Deadmau5 and Skrillex in the front two seats, yelling something. Porter Robinson, the two guys from Knife Party, and Alan Walker are in the back, shouting at me.

"You need a lift?" one of them calls.

"Sure." I step up and hop over as the truck takes off with a lurch. "How is it that you guys all ended up in the same group?"

"We cheated," Robinson says with a shrug.

"Wow, you look a lot creepier with your masks on," Alan comments, and I laugh.

"That's the point. If they don't know who I am, some guy running around like this is pretty freaky, yeah?" I light a smoke bomb and toss it over my shoulder, behind our truck and in front of the MI car following us.

We skid around the corner and I say, "Well, this is my stop. See you around. Don't die."

"Wait - "

I step on the side of the truck and leap off, tucking and rolling when I hit the ground. I hit my wrist awkwardly as I do so, and realize that I probably should have tried that out before my life depended on it. Oh well. I'm not dead yet.

In the dying daylight, I'm just a shadow, flying across the city streets, darting through alley ways, barely even existing. I reach Aero and Braken in record time, skidding around the corner into the alley way where they're barely visible. Braken's pale face and Aero's white wings are the only things I can really see.

"Let me see your leg," I whisper, sliding on my knees next to Braken. He protests softly, but I ignore him. I roll up the leg of his pants and my stomach lurches. It's really bad. A piece of bone is sticking out, and the flesh around it is a bloody mess. "We're going to have to carry him back," I say, letting his pants unroll. "Where's the rest of your team?"

Aero squints into the street. "I told them to go ahead while I helped him. I didn't expect him to fall."

"Sorry," Braken mutters.

"How are we going to stay away from the MI at the same time? You know I can't carry him in the air." He shrugs regretfully, his wings rising and falling.

"We'll need a major distraction." I can barely think over the sounds of police sirens, fireworks, and Braken's heavy breathing. I'd like to say that everything is a distraction enough, but I know that's not going to work.

"I'm sorry, Phantom," Braken says in between gasping breaths.

"It's not your fault. It was an accident. Besides, I shouldn't have made you come." I look around and try to clear my mind. Aero could shoot something, I guess. His wings can be pretty distracting.

"What's done is done, I guess," Aero sighs. "I know I can take him back on the ground, if he stays off his broken leg and slowly goes along with me."

I should have known this was coming. I swallow nervously. "I could create the distraction, then. It's me they want, anyway."

Aero nods. "Alright. How long do you think you can give us? We're not too far from the bridge. We'll make it over that."

"With everything else that's going on? I'd say as long as you need."

"Very specific," he grumbles.

"But Phantom," Braken whispers. "What if you - "

"I won't get caught. I'm Phantom, remember? I don't get caught."

Aero lifts him to his feet, cutting off his next protest. "Good luck, Phantom," the winged artist says.

"And to you." With those last words, I dart out of the alleyway. I need to find any MI officers or Jensen's soldiers around here and lead them away. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the two artists, going as fast as they can. I'll have to stay close to them if I'm going to keep the soldiers distracted.

An MI car pulls around the corner, toward us. Thinking fast, I bolt across the street in front of it and it screeches to a stop. It's hard to stay in sight when I've trained myself to stay hidden. The car follows me down the street until I jump over a fence in an alley way, taking a short cut so it can't follow me. I have to backtrack after it leaves, however, to keep following Aero and Braken. The others don't know they need a distraction. They're relying on me to get them out of the city safely.

I suddenly come across the MI station - the only place we agreed not to blow up yet. I need a distraction ... I'm going to get yelled at by at least three dozen people when I get back, but I'm desperate. I don't know how else to keep these guys occupied.

I notice one of the side windows open and start poking fireworks through, the biggest ones that explode with screeches and fireballs. Before I stick my last one in, I light it and drop it on top of the others. I turn and run as they explode behind me, knocking me over. I feel the heat wash over me and hear glass shattering and people yelling, and suddenly have a flashback of the house fire when I was twelve. I freeze up as the fear seems to stab into me, as real as the fire behind me. It vanishes, however, when I get another call on my communicator.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Noisestorm demands. "I thought you were supposed to stick to the plan, not go off on your own!"

"There was a slight ... problem, okay? And Aero said I could."

"Yeah, because he follows plans as well as you do. Just hurry back and don't blow yourself up, please."

"Where are you? Are you still way behind there?"

"No, I'm closer to the bridge. Why?"

"I need something huge. Can you pull that off?"

"Like blowing up their base single-handedly wasn't huge enough," he grumbles. "Yeah, I can, but you owe me an explanation when we get back."

A moment later, a wild display of fireworks lights up the city. I smile in satisfaction and push myself to go a little faster down the streets. The MI should be split in two groups - one here to try and put this out, and the other over there, by Noisestorm, trying to figure out who set those off. They're still going, surprisingly, and I hope he's escaped already.

I'm growing more confident in this 'distraction' situation, but that feeling vanishes as four MI cars skid around the corners, two in the back, two in the front, trapping me in the street. Eight soldiers - not simple officers - spill out of the vehicles and aim their guns at me.

I stop as fast as I can, breathing hard and nearly falling over. How did that happen? One moment, the streets were empty, and then next, I'm cornered. I spin around, searching frantically for an escape. No one speaks, but I know that if I take a step in either direction, I'll be filled with bullets.

"What's going on?" Monstercat demands through the communicator. "Where are you?"

I don't answer. I can't. My throat's closed up in fear.

"Phantom!" The call is more urgent now, more panicked. "Where are you?"

Slowly, keeping my eyes on the MI as they close in, I unstrap my communicator. I won't let the enemy have it. They'll be able to track the others with it.

"Don't you dare," the lead MI commander growls.

"Run!" I shout. "And don't come back for me!" I throw my communicator onto the pavement and raise my foot to stomp on it.

The man gives the order and my heart nearly stops in terror, but they don't shoot. Instead, they all rush forward and I get tackled by eight fully armed grown men and women. I guess they need me alive.

I'm knocked over before I can crush the communicator, but I fight back with frantic punches and kicks, and one of the men drops it from where he picked it up and another one backs up onto it. The last sound that comes out is another cry.

"Phantom - wait - STOP IT - HELP - " and then a scream of pain.

It's Braken's voice.

And then there's static, and then there's nothing.

I try to resist, but I'm useless against eight soldiers. They've got me on my knees with my arms twisted behind me in only a second. I would have continued to fight, but I feel the barrel of a gun against my shoulder and freeze. That way, if they shoot me, I won't die. I'll just bleed and hurt.

The commander pulls off my headphones, hat, mask, and bandana and I glare at him. "Who are you?" he hisses. "I don't recognize you at all."

"Like I'm going to tell you," I snap back, breathing hard. Blood trickles down the side of my face where someone hit me with the butt of their weapon. It makes me itch and I twitch a little, making the soldiers snicker.

"We'll find out eventually, don't worry." The commander turns around and waves his hand. "Get him out of my sight."

Handcuffs snap around my wrists and I'm yanked to my feet. The soldiers empty my pockets on the spot to make sure I won't explode on them and then shove me roughly into one of the cars to be taken back as a prisoner.

We drive for maybe only five minutes before one of the other vehicles suddenly turns and slams into the side of our car, both of us speeding forty or fifty miles per hour. I'm thrown across the seat and hit the door hard as our car hits a building. The driver is killed on impact and the other soldier is trapped between the crushed door and the air bag. I'm showered with broken glass and feel a new gash on the side of my face, but other than that, I think I'm okay.

The two soldiers in the other car are nowhere to be seen, but two others, dressed in red and black, rip open the side door and yank me out of the car. I recognize them as Jensen's soldiers and panic. I try to run, but I have a decent sized piece of glass embedded in my leg, and even if they didn't stop me, I wouldn't get far on my own.

"What's going on?" I demand.

I don't get an answer, because the two others pull me along as they run. A spray of bullets hit the building above us, but they ignore it and jam me into another car.

"What's going on?" I repeat, but the one sitting next to me shoves my own bandana in my mouth to prevent me from speaking. I almost choke on it and cringe at the taste of my own sweat.

"Bag him," one says, and he pulls a black bag over my head so I can't see. The smell makes me gag. It smells like vomit and sweat.

I try to resist, but a shock of cold metal against my neck makes me stop. If they shoot my neck, I won't die right away. I'll bleed out very painfully. I'll be alive long enough for Jensen to get what he wants. I hold still for the rest of the drive.

The gunshots behind us stop after only a few minutes, but my heart beats faster and louder, reminding me of them. My racing heart beat makes my wounded leg throb more and more, but no one seems to care. The only thing the driver says is that he's going to hurt me if I get blood all over his car.

We finally reach our destination. I'm dragged out of the car and guided roughly into another building, and then shoved painfully into a chair, all with the bag over my head. The glass shard is pulled out of my leg and I yelp, the sound muffled by my bandana. There's an eerie silence until I hear foot steps coming toward me.

"Ahh," someone says. "We finally caught you." The bag is pulled off of my head and I blink in the blinding flashlight beam. "I knew it," Jensen hisses. "Nicholas Allen. So this is what you've been doing for the past year. This is why you vanished off the face of the earth." He sighs softly and starts to laugh. "Oh, Nick. Things could have turned out differently between us, you know. You could have come to me after your parents death. I could have given you a good home, paid for your education, given you a good start in your adulthood. But no, you had to run away, be a rebel."

"You tried to kill me!" I shout, but my voice is muffled by the bandana in my mouth.

"What was that?" He takes it out and flicks it in my face.

"You killed my family," I growl. "You tried to kill me!"

"That's in the past, isn't it?" His face darkens and he suddenly slams his hands onto the chair, above my shoulders. I jump a little, but manage to keep the glaring expression. "Where are they hiding?" he says, low and quiet. He leans closer until we're almost touching.

I spit in his face and he pushes back with a yell of disgust. "You can threaten me and torture me all you want, but I will never tell you anything!" I snap, holding my head up defiantly.

Jensen laughs, pulling a pistol from his belt. "We're not going to hurt you. You have ten seconds to tell me or I'll shoot him." He shines his flashlight behind him, illuminating a terrified boy in the corner with eyes wild like a trapped animal.

Nitro Fun.

I catch my breath in disbelief. He's been here this whole time? He's tied up, his arms behind him and his legs tied both above his knees and at his ankles. He's wearing a brace on his right ankle, too. He's yelling, but I can't tell what he's saying because of the gag in his mouth. My heart drops to my stomach when I see him. They hurt him, too. He has numerous bruises and cuts all over, and his hair is matted to his forehead with blood.

"Ten," Jensen says.

My heart lurches. I can't let him shoot Nitro.

"Nine."

But ... I can't tell Jensen and betray the rest of them.

"Eight."

The sacrifice of one is for the greater good, right?

"Seven."

Nitro's wiggled the gag down so it hangs around his neck. He's gasping for breath.

"Six."

"Phantom," he cries out, his panicked eyes darting between me and the pistol.

"Five."

What am I supposed to do? My heart's beating like a hammer and I can't think clearly.

"Four."

"Phantom?" Nitro's voice is softer now.

"Three."

The gun clicks. Tears spill down my friend's face. I can barely breathe.

"Two."

"Please no no no no no no," he chokes, pressing himself against the corner.

"One."

"Nick!" Nitro screams in pure terror.

"Zero."

"The river!" I blurt.

The sound of the pistol shot echoes through the dark room. My heart nearly stops and I choke on my breath, the air sticking in my throat. Nitro slowly opens his eyes and lets them flicker to the wall next to him. He sees the bullet hole inches from his face and jerks away from it with a yelp. He's breathing hard, terrified, yet relieved. I let out the breath I've been holding in a quiet gasp.

"What did you say?" Jensen demands, still pointing his gun at Nitro.

"The river," I repeat, dropping my eyes to the floor. "They're a mile away from the river." There. I've done it. I betrayed them. Just like that.

Jensen turns, smiling menacingly. "Perfect. That was easier than I thought." He comes over to me and unlocks my handcuffs. If it had just been me, I would have made a run for it instantly, but I don't want Nitro to get hurt for my escape. Jensen motions to the two standing a few feet away. "Kill this boy and we'll be on our way."

"No!" Nitro screams, his voice cracking as they aim their guns at him.

My mind is working overtime. I lunge at Jensen, tackling him and wrestling the pistol away. I know he needs me alive - I'm no use if I'm dead - so as soon as the gun is in my hand, I scramble to the other side of the room and press the barrel against my temple. "You shoot him and I'll shoot myself." My voice is shaking, and I try to steady it as I continue. "I know you need me alive. I know what you want."

Jensen laughs. "You couldn't do it."

"You shoot him," I repeat, "and I'll shoot myself. Let him go, unharmed, and I'll join you. I won't resist."

Jensen seems to ponder this. He's debating whether or not my offer is worth it - either that or wondering if I'll actually kill myself.

"You can't do this," Nitro whispers.

"I can't let them kill you," I say, my eyes never leaving Jensen's face. I tighten my finger on the trigger as a warning.

"Alright," the man says. "We'll let him go."

"Unharmed."

"Yes, we'll let him go unharmed." He waves his hand and the two soldiers haul Nitro to his feet, cutting the ropes away. The young artist stares blankly into space as they lead him to a back door. I lower the gun and follow to make sure everything goes how I want it.

"Get out of here," one says, giving Nitro a shove, "before the MI comes after you." Nitro stumbles out into the back alley, limping heavily and moving slow.

Jensen taps one of the men's rifles. "Give him some encouragement."

"You said you wouldn't hurt him," I remind, gripping the pistol tighter.

"No, I said I'd let him go unharmed. He's been released. Your deal doesn't cover what happens to him after."

One of the men hesitates as the other aims. "He's just a kid," the first says warily.

"Are you defying me?" Jensen demands. "I don't have time to deal with any soldiers gone soft on my team.  You will do as I order or you will die." The man hesitates again, and Jensen yanks the rifle away from him. Without even a breath, he shoots the hesitant man in the head and fires at Nitro, who screams in terror and breaks into a staggering run.

"You said you wouldn't hurt him!" I slam my gun against Jensen's back, but before I can press the trigger, he whirls around and knocks the gun from my shaking hands. He immediately continues, swinging his rifle around like a bat. I try to duck, but I'm too slow and the barrel cracks against the side of my head. I collapse with a brief cry, blinking spots and blood out of my eyes, and Jensen crushes his boot against my back, pinning me in place with another yelp. He and the last soldier shoot at Nitro again, and I hear him cry out, but I don't know whether it's from fear or pain.

I feel something sticky and warm on my fingers and struggle to see what it is. The pale moonlight is just enough to illuminate the bright scarlet color spreading across the concrete floor. It's coming from the man Jensen shot for hesitating - shot and killed. I have the urge to be sick, my stomach churning, not only because of the pool of blood, but because I have just given myself up to a man who kills for hesitating.