Jason Lee Scott (Altered)'s Arc

Chapter 8 of 11

Jason moved through the ruins with the map folded in his jacket. The dragon marker was a mile ahead, painted in red on a cracked concrete wall where the old district met the industrial zone. He'd passed it before — back when he wore Drakkon's colors and didn't question orders. He found the hideout two blocks past the marker. The structure looked like something pulled from a forgotten age — massive metal limbs half-buried in rubble, painted panels that might have been bright once but now wore layers of rust and ash. It resembled an elephant, tusks and all, built from scrap and welded dreams. Someone had turned a dead war machine into shelter. The kind of place Zack would choose — obvious enough to look abandoned, hidden enough to keep secrets. Jason stepped closer and saw the sticky note pressed against the entrance hatch. Bright colors, a dragon design that didn't belong in a world this gray. He recognized Zack's handwriting on the corner: coordinates and a time. Evidence that Zack was coming back here. Evidence that would lead Drakkon's patrols straight to him if they found it first. Boots scraped concrete three streets over. Jason turned and saw the patrol checkpoint — a battered device mounted on a pole, screen cracked but lights still blinking. Fresh installation. Drakkon's forces had moved their perimeter this far already. Voices echoed between buildings, getting closer. Jason looked at the note, then at the gap between buildings where he could disappear. He had seconds. He grabbed the note, crushed it in his fist, and ran for the alley. The patrol rounded the corner as he slipped into shadow. They walked past the elephant structure without stopping, without seeing what it really was. Jason waited until their voices faded, then opened his hand and smoothed the note flat. He'd chosen Zack's safety over his own. That was new.