Carbon Copy - Prologue

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Dan stared at the message, a sigh escaping him as he lowered his hand. So that's how it was gonna be? The reality of his situation hit him like a right hook to his chin. He zoned out as he listened to the shouting of people and the flapping and cracking of sails.

"Honey? Did it work? Please say it worked?" a familiar, warm voice asked, shuddering a bit at the end.

Dan looked at his wife, a short-haired, feisty blond with a perma-tan, and smiled. "We tried, hun. You and the kids need to get out now. They won't wait for you forever, no matter how highly they think of your abilities."

The woman, his wife for the last ten years, stared at him in horror, and he grabbed her shoulders, trying to suppress his own anxiety. "Reika, you can't stay here any longer. Take the children and go to the ship!" He hugged her quickly, then pushed her toward an ancient-looking wooden ship with glowing purple sails that fluttered in the strong wind. It looked horribly out of place, a handbreadth above the ruined concrete of the street, flanked by towering grey skyscrapers. A line of figures stood in front of a walk plank, held back by warriors with weapons that looked as out of place as the ship.

Dan turned to the two little ones, one of eight and the other barely five, and crouched down in front of the oldest one. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice steady.

"Falka, remember what I told you might happen? Well, daddy can't come with you. They won't let me on the ship. That means you have to help mommy, okay? Take care of your little sister and be a good girl!" It took him all his willpower to resist crying when he saw his little girl nod at him firmly. Tears were streaming down her face, but she was stubborn and tough, just like his wife.

He gave her a quick hug and a kiss before looking at his youngest daughter. She understood only a little of what was going on but did realize something terrible was happening now. Worse than what had already happened.

"Freya, daddy loves you! If I can find a way, I will come after you. But for now, listen to your mother and big sister, okay?" The girl shook her head and began crying as she held onto his pants. He hugged her for a few seconds before handing her to his wife. Freya didn't resist but just looked at him with vacant eyes.

"Go! Before they decide you aren't worth the wait."

Seeing them waver, he knew he had to do it himself; there was no other way. He started walking back to the ruins of the once-great city,  waving and blowing them a kiss. Their faces panicked, and he turned around and ran. He had to go now, or they might not leave and be left behind to die with him and the other useless ones.

As he ran away from the only stability he had ever known, the sole good thing he had managed to grasp and hold in his over thirty years of life, the tears finally bubbled up. He ignored them, letting the harsh, dust-laden wind sweep them away as he kept his head forward, not looking back. He thought he heard a last 'papa' before he ran in between the rubble and broken-down buildings. The shouting from behind was instantly muted, and the howling of the wind blocked.

He slowed down and oriented himself. He had to find a good spot to hide immediately. A few streets later, he found a partially crumbled metal escape ladder in an alley between two reasonably intact buildings. He knew he had to get away from the open streets, so he quickly climbed up.

The roof was empty, and he sat down on an old air conditioning vent, looking at the bustling ship in the distance. Five minutes later, it rose in the air, the sails widening due to the wind, and it quickly sped up towards the scores of ships that hung just below the grey clouds like hovering birds.

He had watched his family board, and he knew there was nothing for it anymore. He was alone; his few friends and family were either onboard one of the ships bound for distant worlds or dead during the upheaval. His burning red eyes followed the ship as it disappeared amongst the others, soon unrecognizable in the mass, and he lay his head on his knees.

Alone, again, just like when he was young. But this time, there was no other country to flee to, no fresh starts.

After a while, he sat up, wiped his face, and steeled himself. It was time to get going, or he would die like the weakling his father always said he was. If that happened, he would lose any chance ever to see his family again. No matter how unlikely that seemed right now. As he climbed down the building, he tried hard to motivate himself, trying to imagine some way he could survive.

The first and only thing that came to mind was that he needed to get the hell away from the city and the people-hunters inside.

All senses alert, he moved through the city.