The Last Pendragon

Chapter 6

Matthew shifted his stance and clashed swords with his father. Sparring helped him feel more like himself and less like he was on medical leave and supposed to be resting.

“Good. Your form needs work, Son,” his father said in fluent Japanese. “You’re focused too much on your training from the American Army.”

Matt nodded once. Haruto had lived in America long enough to become a five star general. When Matt joined the army after graduating, he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. Now, being on medical leave and dealing with his struggles with PTSD, Matt wasn’t sure what was going to happen to him. Part of him was happy Haruto had moved back to Japan after the divorce.

At the thought of his mother, Matt cringed and stopped his thoughts from drifting to her or Kenji. Shaking his head, Matt forced his left foot back, trying to get used to the idea of holding a katana in his hands rather than an AR-15 rifle during his tours in Afghanistan. Just as Haruto lunged toward Matt, which Matt blocked and side-stepped, men stormed into the courtyard of the dojo.

“What do you want here?” Haruto asked in English.

Suddenly, energy appeared in their hands unlike anything Matt had ever seen before. His body moved instinctively, twisting to the right to avoid a bolt of lightning. Straightening back up, Matt lunged forward, slicing the stomach open of the lightning man.

A loud buzzing reached his ears, so Matt ducked, flipping his left foot into a turning kick, dropping another man just as he shot fire toward him. Matt rolled out of the way of the fire, but the flames quickly ate through the paper walls and doors of the traditional Japanese dojo.

Seeing a wave of multiple spheres charging toward Haruto from behind, Matt threw his katana. It slammed into the sphere man from behind, leaving Matt weaponless. Years of military training kicked in, so as another man shot lightning that zig-zagged toward him, Matt front flipped forward, over top the lightning. He landed behind the man and just as he whirled around, Matt had his arms around the man’s neck, suffocating him.

The buzzing sound echoed from behind him, so suspecting another energy attack, Matt whirled around, keeping the man he was suffocating in front of him. As the man struggled, shards of ice pelted the man. Matt dropped him and charged toward the ice-spike man, tackling him to the ground. Punching him over and over, Matt glanced up.

Haruto sheathed his katana and backed up. “Matthew, get out of here! Now!”

Matt never disobeyed his father’s direct orders. The five-star Japanese-American general had run his household like the military. He knew better than to question his father. With a single nod, Matt charged toward the walls surrounding the dojo. Pushing off with his legs, he jumped over it and landed in a roll on the cobblestone streets.

Smoke rose in the air as their dojo quickly burned to the ground. Matt could hear his father grunting with every attack and the annoying buzzing from whatever energy they could wield. Through the smoky haze, as the walls collapsed, a bolt of lightning struck his father. Haruto fell to the ground, convulsing as another man stabbed him with an ice-spike, impaling him.

Distantly, shock at however they were able to use magic mixed with grief in the back of Matt’s mind. He immediately shut it down and dismissed it for later, bringing a mental map of this side of Tokyo to his mind.

With no shoes on, Matt darted down the streets, ignoring the sharp cobblestones on his skin. He had these roads memorized and knew it would take him exactly four minutes and twenty-two seconds to reach the local police.

Whoever these people were, they chased Matthew, hot on his tail. None of the citizens seemed to even notice them as Matt weaved in and around men, women, and children of all ages. A man playing on a smartphone stepped in Matt’s path, so he shoved the man aside. From behind him, the people chasing him knocked the man over and onto the side of the street.

Turning down an alleyway, Matthew squeezed in between the narrow walls and back into another open street. Two children darted down toward him, playing tag. Matthew slipped in between them, but he thought he heard them yelling, followed by two thuds.

Sharply turning to the left, Matthew took a short cut to the local police. Suddenly, at the end of the street, a group of the people cut him off from the exit. Matthew whirled around to go back the other way, but they blocked that direction too.

He was trapped. 

As the people lifted their hands, Matt dove downward, but there was no cover. The attack was larger than he thought and the energy slammed against his body, knocking him unconscious.

*****

When Matt awoke, his wrists were chained above him, yanking his arms as high as they could go. His bare feet brushed the damp concrete of a cell, which surrounded him on all four sides with no windows. The door was made from metal with no opening in sight. Nothing else was in the cell, except for seven of the men from before. Matt was hanging in the center of the room, his feet barely able to touch the ground flat-footed.

Gasping, Matt sucked in a deep breath. Each of the men held bokutos - wooden Japanese katanas—in their hands. The seventh man stood in front of him and then walked right into Matt’s face, trying to intimidate him.

Holding his chin up high, Matt glared at the man’s eyes, refusing to blink.

“Your brother, Kenji Saitou, goes by Kenji Jones now. Where is he?” the man asked.

Matt deduced he was the leader. The other six men stood behind him, waiting for his orders. “What do you want with my brother?”

Leader punched him in the jaw. The movement jerked Matt backward and he lost his footing.

Matt spit blood onto the floor, along with a tooth as he finally balanced himself again.

“I’m the one asking the questions here. Now where is your brother?” Leader glared at him.

Matt met Leader’s bright blue eyes with a death stare. “Don’t know.”

Leader backed up, nodding his head to the other six men. Two of them stayed in front of Matt, two of them disappeared beyond his peripheral vision to his sides, and the last two stood behind him where Matt couldn’t see them.

The first man clenched a bokuto and jabbed it into Matt’s groin as hard as he could.

Pain made his muscles instantly seize up, shooting through his body. His stomach lurched and nausea filled him. Matt grunted, but kept his footing intact.

Two more strikes, one to his left kidney and the other to his right. A wave of pain tore through him and Matt groaned. Another strike made his left leg buckle and he had no time to recover before a fifth attack slammed against his neck, just above the right side of his collarbone. The stinging shot through his neck, joined with other aches and pains as they struck him again and again, beating him as hard as they could.

On the sixtieth strike, they all stopped and Leader stepped forward.

Matt gasped as pain shot through his entire body. They had attacked his most sensitive areas and his muscles tightened and throbbed and stung. Blood dribbled from his forehead and his vision blurred. Waves of nausea shot upward and formed bile in the back of his throat. His legs and hands shook and his shoulders felt as if they were going to be torn apart. With his entire body weight on his shoulders from the chains lifting his arms up, combined with their vicious beating, Matt knew it wouldn’t be long before both his shoulders dislocated.

“Where is your brother?”

Closing his eyes, Matt clamped his mouth shut, gritting his teeth. He focused on his breathing to keep the pain at bay, as their new strikes brought fresh agony to his b****y and beaten body.

The pain caused his mind to blur and for a moment, Matthew was back in Iraq, back when he had first been deployed.

Two Iraqi soldiers threw Matthew into a prison cell. His body was coated in a thick layer of blood and grime. He was so skinny and weak, he could barely hold himself upright.

The Iraqi leader strolled into the room and harshly yelled at him in Arabic. Matthew had been their prisoner long enough to know what the Iraqi leader said. “Where are the troops? What are their plans? Give me their names!”

Matthew’s heart raced and pounded like a drum as his body trembled with fear. The two Iraqi soldiers yanked his arms further behind his back and shoved his head into a bucket full of water.

Water invaded his mouth and nose, forcefully sliding down his throat. His lungs screamed and called for air. Just as his vision blurred, the soldiers lifted him out. Matthew’s body quaked as he threw up water onto the floor.

“Where are they?” Iraqi Leader repeated.

Wasting no time, the soldiers chained him to the ceiling as Iraqi Leader threw ice-cold water onto his body. The cold gnawed at him, nearly sending his body into shock as Iraqi Leader plugged jumper cables into a car battery.

Matthew’s breathing froze and terror clawed at him as harshly as the cold water had.

“Last chance…!”

Eyeing the jumper cables, Matthew somehow managed to shake his head. Iraqi Leader took the end of the cables and touched them to Matthew’s chest. Immediately, agony surged through him as his body writhed and seized from the electricity coursing through him.

Iraqi Leader spoke carefully in English, glaring at Matthew. “I know they have trained you to withstand t*****e, but I will break you.”

“I will break you,” Leader said, snapping Matthew out of the flashback.

Matthew growled in response, locking his emotions away so he could think clearly, focus through the pain. “No. You won’t.”

*****

For hours they continued the process, beating him for sixty strikes before they would question him. Each time he produced no answer, they would start again. They continued until they all became so tired, they had to stop. So they left him alone in the room, beaten to a pulp. Blood blocked his vision, but most of it was blurred anyway. Every inch of his body throbbed in agony, but Matt kept his mind sharp and focused, despite that his head was swimming.

His cell phone was in his front left pocket. Shifting the weight of his sore legs, Matt wiggled to try to slide the phone out. Every movement sent waves of pain shooting through him, but Matt tried not to think about it, tried to stay focused on what he was doing. He forced his mind to focus on the cell phone, rather than the pain pulsing through him as he breathed deeply.  Then he lifted his right leg up to his left pocket.

Dislocated, his right knee screamed in protest and Matthew cried out as pain tore through his knee. Pausing, he breathed heavily and mentally counted to ten. With a sharp inhale, Matt brought his right knee up to the bottom of his left pocket and brushed his knee against the bottom of the phone.

The phone slithered halfway out, but it was still stuck. Closing his eyes, Matthew ground his teeth together with an exhale and tried again. Pain shot through his knee, but he bit back another scream and shoved the phone—

Shadows shifted beneath the door and Matt immediately froze. Voices murmured harshly but they weren’t loud enough for him to understand their words. For a horrified moment, Matthew struggled to figure out how to hide his phone.

As the voices faded, Matthew exhaled in relief and he tried once more. At last, the phone slipped out of his pocket and fell face-up on the stone floor. Matt was thankful it was unbreakable.

Stretching forward, Matthew tried to reach his phone with his big toe. The movement sent waves of pain shooting through his shoulders and his right shoulder cracked. Sharp agony stabbed him and Matthew screamed, but he bit his lip with a shudder. Tears in his eyes, Matthew blinked to try to clear his vision.

He carefully used his big toe to unlock his phone and hit the messages tab and fortunately, he managed to do both on the first try. When he went to click a new message, Matthew’s toe slipped, but he tried again. After two more tries, he finally got it to open up to a new message. Rather than scroll through his contact list, he used his toe to type in the letter “K.”

As soon as Kenji’s named popped up, Matthew’s toe hit it. Gritting his teeth as the pain increased, Matt tried to type his message. It took him over a dozen times, but at last, the six letters of his message appeared: SOS GOW. He pressed send and then spent several extremely long minutes trying to turn on his GPS. As soon as it was on, Matthew sagged with a ragged breath. It had worked.

When they were boys, sometimes Kenji or Matt would get into massive blowout fights with Haruto. They developed a text messaging code, since Haruto usually went through their messages. SOS for help, GOW for general on warpath. Anytime Haruto’s temper would be too much for one of them to handle, the other would come to the rescue. Eventually, they used it anytime they were in danger. Matt remembered one time when Haruto had left Kenji in the woods to teach him a lesson. They figured out how to use their GPS to find each other and Matt came to the rescue. No matter how much trouble Kenji got into, especially when he got involved in a few gangs, they used their code and helped each other.

At least until Matt was shipped to Afghanistan. Then their parents’ divorce put an ocean between them. Kenji had taken their mother’s side and Matt chose Haruto’s.

Swallowing deeply, Matt inhaled and exhaled sharply, counting to ten again. As he did, he cleared his mind of all thoughts, except for one. Matthew Saitou. First Lieutenant. Matthew Saitou. First Lieutenant. Opening his eyes, he kept his eyes focused on specifics of the room, memorizing every inch of what he could see. He searched for any possible entrances or exits other than the main door. Looking up, he checked the tightness of the chains, but he couldn’t slide them off. Yanking on them, he made sure they were secure. Keeping his mind focused helped him shut off the pain and prepare for the t*****e ahead.

Footsteps thudded in the hallway. To his right was a drain. Matt kicked his phone to it and watched it slide through the bars. If they found it, they would destroy it, which would kick off the GPS. Or worse; they would use it to find Kenji. Down there, it was still on and without being used, it would have at least eight hours of battery life left. Eight hours for Kenji to find him.

Matt wasn’t sure it would work.

As the door slid open, Matt briefly wondered what trouble Kenji had gotten into now, who these men were, and why they wanted him. Those questions kept his mind focused on listening and gathering whatever information he could. It kept his mind sharp and prepared him for what was next.

Leader and the six men returned. “Going to tell us where your brother is?”

Matt stayed silent but lifted his chin and glared in the Leader’s eyes, keeping his expression and gaze void of any emotion. Likewise, Matt felt nothing inside except the determination and focus to find answers and keep his mind intact.

They raised their bokutos and prepared to beat him once again.