Son of Sedonia

20

Stripped


THE BLANK FLOOR was freezing in Matteo’s cell. He’d awoken there about an hour ago to the muffled sounds of rambling and screaming. His new neighbors. Through the plate glass front wall of his cell, Matteo could see them. Across from him, one paced back and forth, babbling in an unending stream of terminology.

“Right pin-lock A, right pin-lock B, left pin-lock A, left pin-lock B, manifold housing, manifold carriage, primary intake manifold,” and on and on and on. Matteo tried to tune him out, but couldn’t help but recognize a few of the terms. From his ‘new’ memories or things he picked up from the Pits, he couldn’t tell.

Clasping his hands over his ears helped somewhat, but sounds from another neighbor broke through. A constant thump-thump-thump. The young kid two cells down beat his head against the glass, forming a bloody patch. Matteo decided to either stare into the corner or keep his eyes shut. So exhausted. Sleep came but in restless, disorienting spurts.

Unaware he had dozed off, Matteo awoke to a hydraulic hiss across from him. A guard looped a wire around the neck of the ranting inmate and pulled him from the cell.

“CO2 scrubber unit, O2 converter, Recycled O2 filter—hurrrrkkkk!” The guard tightened the noose. Yanked the inmate down the narrow-cell block hall. Matteo pressed his face to the glass, trying to see where they went, but they slipped out of sight. He felt guilty to be so thankful for the silence. As if on cue, the thumping resumed. His other neighbor must have woken up, too. Matteo scooted along the cold panel floor to the back corner of his cell. Tucked his head between his shivering knees. Looked at his arm. Aden William Rindal.

He rolled up the sleeve of his orange jumpsuit. Pushed into his forearm with a thumb, feeling again for anything under the surface. Nothing...wait— Through the squish of muscles over bones, something hard shifted. Too deep to tell what, even if he knew what he was looking for. A long bruise had developed there under the hours of prodding. Aden William Rindal...Aden...William...Rindal. The name gnawed him. Crushed every explanation that tried to form in his head. He let go of his arm. Clenched fists.

He hoped for his turn soon. Whatever lay in store for him at the end of that hall, it had to be better than waiting for it. Maybe he could pretend to be passive when the guard came for him. Give no sign of a struggle at all. Then when the moment came he would break free. Run. Then...what? It didn’t matter. He would figure something out. There had to be a way.

Finally, footsteps approached. Matteo bristled, but forced himself to lie totally still. Like a beaten slum dog tied to a post. Closer and closer they came. He swallowed hard, imagining the wire loop tightening around his neck. I won’t fight. Not yet. Vivid scenarios hatched in his mind. Grabbing the noose pole and ripping it from the guard’s hands. Kicking the man in the kneecap or maybe punching him in the throat. All of it vanished when he heard the hydraulic hiss come from his neighbor’s cell. Not his turn yet. Anger surged through him. Violent, impotent anger. He beat his fists on the floor. Hit himself in the head. Then glimpsed of the dark patch on his forearm. Aden Rindal. Aden Rindal. Aden Rindal. Gritting his teeth, he dug his thumbnail into the skin. A drop of blood beaded from the wound and ran down his arm. He started wheezing.

‘Breathe, my boy.’ Utu’s voice drifted up with a gentle touch. He released his arm and wiped the wound. Choked on his tears.

A sudden loud din of mechanical noise shattered the calm. Matteo shrank like a frightened animal back into the rear corner of his cell. In the cell across from him, the wall slid open and revealed a hatch door. Before he could think, the door yawned open and dumped out its contents: a skinny, frail man fell into a heap on the cell floor. He didn’t look like the others. Much older. Grayer. Missing hair in big patches and thin as any ascetic priest Matteo had ever seen at the Stepstones. The creature woke up with a gasp. Pushed itself up on the floor and started coughing.

Matteo saw the faded ‘T99’ on the old man’s sinewy shoulder.

“H-hey,” Matteo forced himself to speak, “Hey, can you hear me?” The old man froze. Slowly lifted his head with eyes closed. Opened them.

“Little brother?” The voice. The face. There was no mistaking Jogun in both, but they were so...broken. Matteo’s throat tightened as though choked by the guard’s noose. Forced himself to swallow.

“Jo...” said Matteo. It was all he could manage. The two of them sat for what felt like forever, staring at one another in the pale, silent hall. Finally, Jogun winced and crawled toward the glass. He seemed to smile but it struggled to crack the pain etching his face.

“You grew up,” Jogun said, “Made yourself strong, that’s-that’s good. Real good.” Jogun nodded with tears welling in his sunken eyes. Matteo blinked and looked away.

“Jo, I-I’m...I broke my promise,”

“No. No. Don’t be sorry to me. It was my fault. Should’a been there. Should’a...should’a...” Jogun hung his head, balling his hands into fists.

“Nah, man, don’t...this is on me,” Matteo said. Paused. “It’s good to see you, bro.”

“Yeah?” Jogun snorted a laugh. Looked down at his starving body, “I’ve been workin’ out, you know...prison and all.”

A brittle laugh broke out of Matteo, then utterly faded. Jogun scooted closer to the glass.

“Yo, you got a girl?” Jogun asked, grinning. Matteo went dead quiet, staring at the floor.

“N-nah... nah, man.”

“Oh.”

They both sat in charged silence. Quiet enough for Matteo to remember the slight throbbing in the cut on his forearm. He stared at it.

“Hey Jo? Ever hear the name ‘Aden Rindal’?” Matteo asked. Jogun looked up, furrowing his brow. Shook his head.

“I...uh...Aden Rin...Rin...?”

“Aden William Rindal. They found this thing in my arm with his name stored in it.”

“Don’t know,” said Jogun. Something had changed in his body language. Matteo saw him tense his shoulders. Shift his gaze slightly. Matteo straightened.

“You know something. What is it?”

“I—no I told you…I...”

He’s hiding something. Matteo was sure of it now, but had always sensed something growing up. The way Jo would go away in his head, or the vague answers to questions. Like he’s doing now. This had to be the heart of it.

“What. Do. You. Know?” Matteo watched the panic wash over his brother’s frail body. He seemed more trapped now than the cell walls ever intended.

“Tell me!” Matteo shouted. Jogun winced. Then withered.

“When you were a kid,” Jogun began, “I told you that you should be glad you never knew Dad. That was true, but I never said why. I shot him. Killed him.” A long pause followed.

“Okay,” Matteo said, chewing on the information, “Why? What happened?”

“He—he—” Jogun ran bony fingers through thinning hair, “He killed you.”

“Me? Jo, what the—”

“He killed Mom and...the baby. My baby brother...he dropped y—him outta the balcony, so I pulled the trigger.” Jogun trembled as the words spilled out of him. Matteo stood up and spread his hands on the glass.

“More.”

“I...I can’t...little brother, I—”

“MORE!” Matteo pounded the glass. Jogun seemed like he would faint as he took a deep breath and struggled to his feet. Put his own hands on the glass.

“There was a crash. About a month after y—after everything happened. Me and some of the other kids, we made it there before the Cutters did. Got first pick. The others didn’t wanna go in the cockpit with the bodies, they were... I went in. I went in and I found a baby in the back seat. Too sick to cry loud, so the others didn’t hear. I took him and I ran. I took you.”

Matteo staggered back away from the glass. His legs buckled, dropping him to the floor. Jogun fell to his knees.

“You’ve been my little brother ever since, man. You been my family! ‘Teo, please, I wanted to tell you. Tried so many times...”

“Tried?” Matteo laughed bitterly. “Now it all makes sense. All you ever tried to do was keep me in the f*cking dark! I never understood, thought maybe I’d be strong enough one day for you to tell me, but now... You only wanted to keep me for your damn self!”

“Little brother...” Down the hall, a door opened and footsteps approached.

“STOP CALLING ME THAT!” Matteo banged on the glass and shouted down the hall, “In here! It’s my turn to go, so go ahead and f*cking take me!”

“Please, Matteo. I just—I just wanted to protect you! I’m sorry man! I’m so sorry...so sorry...” Jogun rocked back and forth in his cell, clutching fistfuls of hair. Some of it tore off in his hands.

“Hurry the f*ck up! ‘Decom’ me or whatever, but do it soon, I—” The footsteps stopped in front of Matteo’s cell. In place of the guard stood the most feared EXO in the history of Rasalla. Sergeant John Kabbard. Fatter and grayer than that night on the rooftop, but it was him. Matteo felt like his head would burst. The man casually scanned the numbers on top of each cell. Pointed to Matteo’s.

“This one,” Kabbard said. A Themis employee crossed to a keypad by the cell and started punching commands. Gas seeped into the chamber, taking little time to slacken Matteo’s muscles. His cell door slid open.

“YOU?!” Jogun’s voice rasped as he screamed. He beat his fists on the glass. Kicked it. Shouldered into it. All the while shouting with a rage Matteo had never heard.

“NO! DON’T YOU F*ckING TOUCH HIM!” Blood spattered on plate glass with each wet thud. “I’ll kill you, Kabbard, you got that?! I’LL F*ckING KILL YOU!”

The regular Decom guard appeared from down the hall, trotting to a stop. He looked at Jogun. Matteo. Then Kabbard.

“Friends of yours?” said the guard. Kabbard snorted a laugh as his thugs pulled Matteo’s limp body from the cell. Matteo used his last bit of strength to turn his head. His eyes met Jogun’s. His brother, or whoever he was, pressed bloody palms on the glass.

“Careful with that one,” Kabbard said, “if he’s your idea of ‘pacified,’ then you guys are in deeper shit than I thought.”

“Never seen a conditioned unit act this way, sir, and I’ve been stationed here eight years. We’ll get him down to the infirmary immediately and get to the bottom of the issue,” said the guard. He tapped a few keys next to Jogun’s cell, filling it with the same gas.

“Uh huh,” said Kabbard, “Let’s go.” Matteo watched through tunneled vision as Jogun was pulled from his cell and down the hall. The hall seemed to warp and stretch. Kabbard’s square frame loomed up beside him like a demon from a Blue Lady’s story. His head felt fuzzy and dull. Wake up. He thought. This ain’t real. I know it’s not. Wake. UP!