The Sowing (The Torch Keeper) Read Free

Clanking metal echoes through the chamber as the security bracelets spring apart and drop from their wrists, clanking onto the floor.
    I kneel and grab a gun from one of the fallen guards, expel the spent cartridge, and jam in a fresh one. Then I stand to face them. “We’re getting out of here. By now, reinforcements should be on their way. I want you to grab anything that looks like a weapon and empty the cash coffers behind the bar. Once we exit Harmony House, head west past the city limits until you reach the canyon. You’ll be able to find shelter there and barter for provisions with one of the trading caravans I’ve arranged to meet you.” They’re all staring at me, hanging on every word. “I’ve hacked into the system and disabled every security bracelet in the city. The others in the different houses will be free as well, but confused by everything that’s going on. Grab as many as you can on the way out and take them with you. Let’s move!”
    They scuttle like a colony of ants, intent on their mission to ransack the parlor for weapons and currency. In minutes, they’re done gathering and stand ready.
    A tall boy, almost my height, nudges the barrel of a pilfered weapon toward the doors. “How are we gonna get through the city? There’ll be too many of ’em out there by now.”
    I reach into my pocket and pull out one of the last remaining silver discs. “I’ve taken care of that. Trust me. They’ll have their hands full.”
    I slide the goggles over my eyes and drape my hood over my head.
    Suddenly the gaping entryway is filled with more armed personnel, their weapons blazing. I toss the disc toward them and hit a button on my belt. “Everyone down!”
    They follow my lead and dive to the ground. A fireball erupts in the doorway, rattling the building to its very foundations. A blast of hot air punches through the room. I scramble to my feet, pulling as many kids as I can onto theirs. “Move!”
    En masse , we push toward the entryway, firing, stab bing, and slashing anything in our path, past the smol dering edges of the doorway, trampling over the bloody clumps of flailing guards on the other side. Some of the former prisoners pause to pry weapons loose from dead and dying fingers before moving on like a swarm of locusts.
    Once we’re clear of Harmony House, I press another button on my belt, triggering the other silver discs I’ve scattered throughout the city to detonate in a pre-programmed sequence. Explosions shake the ground like the tremors of an earthquake. One blast. Two. Three. Four. Five …
    The Pleasure Emporiums are in chaos. The air is layered with thunderous blasts, a symphony of shattered glass, screaming, shouting, weapon bursts, hundreds of feet pounding the pavement. Cement and brick groan as the structures implode all around in a thick deluge of dust and debris.
    I pump blast after blast of cover fire as the ragtag caravan of former-slaves-turned-warriors maneuvers through the carnage, past the confused and panicked masses, and disappears toward the western horizon.
    Reaching into my belt one last time, I pull out a small tube of flammable liquid and then sign the initial on the ground by the Pleasure Emporium’s entrance. Just one letter.
    A giant T, which begins to blaze.
    Then I’m trudging out of the city in the opposite direction, into the wasteland.
    My glide cycle is still hidden under a tarp behind the dune where I left it. Hopping onto the seat, I flick the lever on the handlebar. I’m jostled by the familiar vibration as the wind, harnessed by the propulsion system, churns the props on the vehicle’s wings. It sputters into the air with an asthmatic wheeze.
    I pause once to look behind me.
    The Pleasure Emporiums glitter brighter than they ever have against the shimmering canvas of night sky. Only this time, they don’t paint the horizon in rainbow shades of seductive neon.
    Gunning the throttle, I swerve and speed away into the night, away from the brilliant