“They came, they tried to tame, but their attempts went lame,” Carl preached as he moved around the large ship, tinkering with a few small, insignificant pieces of paneling in the cargo hold. “And fire will rain down – devouring and destroying all they built – leaving only ash. Ash is versatile, adaptable, moves with the freedom of the wind. They will not fall, they will not fail; they will fly. They will escape into the icy void beyond their burning world and the ash will settle.”
“It will never fly!” Sawyer shouted over his ranting, the man’s words watering a seed in his gut he didn’t dare nourish lest it consume him.
“Never is a definite term,” Carl halted his movements and stared seriously at Sawyer. “You should not use definite terms, especially when it was already proven false. The ship has flown before, therefore to say it never will again is irrational.”
“I’m the irrational one,” Sawyer stared at the man blankly.
Carl looked him, studying Sawyer as if he were the speck of dust on the former scientist’s lens. Eventually, the older man gave a short nod with his answer; “yes.”
“Okay, enough of this,” Sawyer massaged the stress and exhaustion from his temples. “It’s late, I’m tired, and we will talk about this tomorrow; we’re leaving.”
“No, no, there’s no more time,” Carl spoke over his shoulder as he walked up the cargo ramp and disappeared into the ship.
“Let’s go,” Sawyer ignored Carl’s rhetorical ranting and Maverick’s protest as his tolerance for his brother’s mouth wore thin. He grabbed Maverick by the collar, pulling him toward the door amid his angry stuttering and Wil’s laughter. “This isn’t a democracy, little brother.”
The night greeted them with sifted tears, dampening their hair and clothes in moments. The sludge neared the toe of his boots – higher than when they’d approached the building – and Sawyer stumbled at the unexpected depth. Maverick took advantage of his momentary weakness, shifting his weight and kicking the back of Sawyer’s knee. Sawyer cursed as he met the mud, shaking one hand free as the other braced his fall. “What in hellfire was that for?”
“I’m not a child anymore, Sawyer! You can’t boss me around like when we were kids!”
“While you’re underage, I’m responsible for you, and you will do as I say!”
“You aren’t dad, so stop trying to be like him!”
“No, I’m not dad, because if I was dad I’d feel bad about kicking your ass!”
“I’d like to see you try!” Maverick taunted smartly.
“Enough; we’re going home.” Sawyer stood and brushed at the mud on his slacks.
“This isn’t home, Sawyer! This was never home!” Maverick’s expression warped, his face dripping with acidic rain mixed with salted tears. “Our home is gone! It’s been gone for over eight years! It burned to the ground with the bodies of our mother and sister inside! The only reason we stayed on Flamouria is because Alpha Sect promised to protect us, and dad believed it! And the only reason we’re here now that he’s dead too, is because you believe it!”
“Maverick…”
“Don’t you dare call this home,” Maverick swiped at leaking eyes, his voice thick with unrestrained emotion. “Our home was nothing like this place. Our home had windows looking out over a stream; we cooled off in it when the sun got too hot. It had a box of soil out front Dad made so Ella could grow wildflowers, because she cried when dad said she couldn’t plant them with the rest of the crops. It smelled like the cinnamon bread mom made and the sweet water she used for our baths. You don’t remember; you don’t want to remember! Dad didn’t want to remember either, but I do; I won’t forget. I won’t ever forget!”
“I remember.”
“You don’t!”
“I remember everything!” Sawyer raised his tone to stop Maverick’s continuation of his tirade, but lowered it after he’d gained the boy’s attention. “I remember the song mom used to sing Ella to sleep. I remember the way mom’s eyes lit up whenever dad walked in the door; how he used to drop everything and wrap his arms around her. I remember it and you’re right; I don’t want to.”
Sawyer’s confession ignited a spark in Maverick; fire ignited in his flesh, exploding through his fist as it smacked hard into Sawyer’s jaw. Caught off guard at the attack, Sawyer reeled back, blinking in startled fascination at Maverick’s heaving, irate form. Before he could recover from his shock, Maverick was on top of him, the force of his impact sucking the air from Sawyer’s lungs and burying him flat into the marsh.
Maverick roared with the pent-up rage he’d suppressed for eight years, releasing the hate, misery, and darkness carved into his flesh. Sawyer raised his arms, blocking the fury of blows as best he could. Despite his defense, several blows left him reeling at the force behind his little brother’s rage. A left hook to his temple blurred his vision; a right jab to his jaw gnashed his teeth. Maverick slipped in the mud, his hesitation allowing
