Dream Chasers (Dystopian Scifi Series Book 1)

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Authors: Logan Stark
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Makaratzi, not the man sitting here in
front of him.
    Doors clapped open. Footsteps
approached. Peter tried looking over his shoulder, but there was no point –
they were already behind him, a fresh batch of men wearing black coats and
automatic weapons.
    ‘Glad to see you awake,’ Midori
said. He had a different shirt on, another white, but this one was different
because it had a logo with the letters T.K.M in black on the right side
of his chest. His hair appeared glossier as well, black with white reflected
lines. Maybe he had a shower, Peter thought, or maybe he’d killed someone and
had to change his shirt.
    Midori walked around the
upright bed and tapped his fingers on the steel. ‘You didn’t die. Good.’
    ‘Am I free to go?’ Peter asked.
The casualness in his voice must’ve been really funny for these guys. Everyone
burst out laughing, except Midori, who was smiling. He glanced over his
shoulder and asked, ‘What do you guys think? Shall we let the man go?’
    ‘Not when he’s our ticket to
power,’ someone said from behind.
    Ticket to power? He looked at
Homeless, who had no fucking idea what was going on, probably still wanting the
white powder. ‘What’s going on?’
    Midori made his way around the
Dream Infiltrator. He waved two fingers in the air, in an inward gesture, and a
man approached holding an expensive looking black case. Midori took it without
looking at the man, and the man bowed and walked away. ‘Peter, oh Peter.’ He
pulled a chair closer, legs screaming. He sat down, laid the black case on his
lap, and touched Peter’s knee. ‘I’m afraid you’re Yaramati’s property now. And
no one, I mean no one, messes with Yaramati’s property.’
    Peter felt the pressure on his
knee disappear. He was trying to understand what was going on, and he had a
pretty good idea already. Damn you, Ohko, Peter thought. Why did you bring me
here? He also thought about his mother, who he was supposed to see that day.
She was probably at the train station right now, looking around with a broken
heart for her only son.
    ‘You must still be confused,’
Midori said, staring at the case on his lap. He reached for it and gently
stroked it. ‘Let me assure you that no harm will come over you.’
    ‘Tell me what’s going on.’
Peter looked to his side and saw eyes staring at him. Those weren’t caring
eyes; those were abiding eyes.
    ‘Do you know what a farm is,
Peter?’ Midori clicked the latches on the case.
    ‘I want to—’
    ‘Excuse me,’ Homeless said,
scratching his chin on his chest. ‘I need a go, you know.’ Laughter came from
the men with the machine guns. Homeless laughed with them, and returned his
focus to Midori. ‘I need the toilet. Think I’m going to, if I don’t.’
    Midori looked at two of his
men, who had their coats open and hands in their pockets. ‘Escort our guest.
You know what to do.’
    With faces devoid of
expression, they nodded and made their way over. They began untying the ropes
from Homeless.
    For some odd reason, Peter felt
his chest constricted. His breathing quickened. He heard laughter in the
background, but maybe that was in his mind. They were going to kill the man.
They were going to take him out somewhere and shoot him in the head. No, Peter
thought. ‘What are you going to do with him?’
    ‘Thanks,’ Homeless said,
rubbing his freed wrist. ‘My head’s still a little woozy. Think I’m going to
throw up, you know. Need to get out.’
    Midori smiled at him.
    ‘No, wait.’ They started
escorting Homeless past them. ‘I said wait!’ Peter screamed. That made them
stop, and that made Midori look. ‘Where are you taking him? You are going to
kill him, aren’t you?’
    Homeless looked at his
escorting partners, questioning them with his eyes. Surely they wouldn’t do
such a thing to a man who needs the toilet? Homeless must’ve been thinking.
    ‘Why don’t you lower your
voice,’ Midori said, eyes locked on Peter. Midori pointed at

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