Chapter 21
The next few hours are filled with preparation for our little midnight excursion, leaving me discombobulated and surprised at how organized they all seem to be with one another. Every time Kael shouts out an order, Edan or Kane stop what they were currently doing and seamlessly change jobs. It’s like they communicate through telepathy; they always seem to know what Kael is thinking.
I, on the other hand, am not as dutiful and effortlessly smooth as they. I try to help as much as I can, but I struggle to remember everything I’ve been told to do. I’ve never been much good at following detailed instructions and my lack of talent in that area really shines through here. It reminds me of when I was younger, when my mom would give me two or three menial tasks to do and expect them to be done by the time she was home. I usually forgot what I was supposed to do within ten minutes.
After a short while, they all seem to notice my short-term memory loss and get me to do tasks that they know I’ll be able to do. Things like putting supplies in bags or making sure everything has batteries take up my time for a little while.
This is the kind of work I’m cut out for and things go easily until we’re all finished with preparation. I zip shut the final backpack and look up to see Kael hovering over me. The real question is how long he has been there.
“Uh...,” I trail off, unsure of what to say.
“Sorry, just countin’ and seein’ if we’ve got everything we need,” he admits.
“Oh, okay,” I reply awkwardly.
Kael moves toward the door and looks back at me. I look up at him expecting another order or something, but he simply turns back again. Strange.
I swear as he looked at me, there was something more, something freakishly familiar about Kael, like I knew him in a past life or something. The thought sends goose bumps down my arms and as my eyes look over to Kane and Edan, I notice that they’re giving me a rather peculiar look.
“Damn heater in here, never keepin’ anybody warm!” Kane exclaims and stands up with enough vigor to shake the entire mansion, and as he does, he knocks back the table and causes the working Edan to give Kane a rather nasty glare. I burst into laughter along with Kane and eventually Edan joins in with us.
The three of us end up lying on the ground, feeling a surge of relief at the close of preparation. The cold tile floor rubs against my back and I shiver a bit. But before Kane can make another heat-related joke, Kael walks in with that determined look on his face. He definitely means business.
“Come on, I figure we should get a short nap in before we go, there are plenty of open couches down in the great room,” he says.
“Alrighty boss, but I will admit, I am currently quite riled up right now,” says Kane slyly and he pulls himself up onto his feet in rather close proximity to Kael.
Kane reaches out in an apparent attempt to grab a man twice his size, but even before he can reach his fingers out, Kael is upon him. A rather rough wrestling match breaks out, causing Edan to get up and out of the room as quickly as he can and for me to rush out of the way so I don’t get trampled.
It seems a bit apparent that Kael is the dominant fighter, even with Kane’s speed, and he quickly gets Kane in a headlock up against the wall.
“Alright, alright! Mercy, my kind lord, Mercy!” Kane shouts out in playful agony.
Kael lets him go with a strangely lighthearted grunt and as they pull one another up and dust themselves off, I can really tell they are a lot more than good friends; they’re really like brothers.
“Well come on then, you heard the man! Yeh can’t just stand around watching two fellows wrestling ‘til we have to go,” exclaims Kane with a smile on his face.
“Alright, alright,” I say as I walk towards the door.
“You must swear to it that you’ll never speak of this tussle,” Kane whispers into my ear. “You wouldn’t want them to start thinkin’ Kael actually had a heart or something.”
A laugh escapes my mouth and Kael looks back at Kane with a smug look on his face. He balls his hand into a fist and punches his other palm in an intimidating manner. Kane gives out a little yelp of fear along with a chuckle and rushes out the door in a fake panic, his laughter echoing in the room even after he’s made it all the way down the stairs.
The joyful sound still echoes through my mind as I’m lulled to sleep on a cold leather couch in the great room.
After having gone through a sleep cycle, I wake up, slightly disoriented, as Kael tugs at my arm.
“Come on, we’ve got to head out,” he whispers.
I drag myself to my feet and look around to see a couple other refugees still sleeping soundly on their designated couches. Kael may be a large guy, but he sure can keep quiet when he needs to be.
The dim lights on the walls of the great room give off little light, causing me to walk into a couch or two until Kael finally decides it’d be easier to just carry me to the garage. As his great arms wrap around me, I can’t help but feel strangely at home, a weird thing to feel with a guy you just met, I know. He lifts me with ease and silently shifts himself and me through the dark maze of a room.
I don’t know if I should look up at him or perhaps just close my eyes, but he answers that thought for me. His eyes graze over mine and he looks strangely curious, as if there was something familiar or maybe perverse about me. I look at him, but look away quickly. The red of embarrassment spreads over my face at the thought of being held by someone like him, someone powerful and so charitable. And so damned attractive.
The darkness hides my blush, and for that I am thankful, but then I look around the room for one last time before our trek and feel greatly thankful for it and everyone in it and its adjacent rooms. This place has become home for so many, and yet I still feel as though I don’t belong. They all have their own little niche in the house, but all I’m used for is busy work. I like the thought of having a home, but I don’t even know if I’d be allowed to stay; it’s almost to capacity as is.
He continues to carry me through the kitchen, even though we both know I know the kitchen the best out of all the rooms in the mansion. We had an awkward run-in just last night as we were both getting a late night snack. Really, everyone has been down to sneak out cookie dough or leftover cake at one time or another. It’s a popular place at three in the morning.
And yet, he continues to carry me through the side halls leading to the garage, almost as if he’s afraid to let me go. There’s a certain sort of concern in his grip around me, a sort of protective feeling—a primal one—that isn’t there because it’s rational, but because it isn’t, like a fear of the dark. I look up at him again and our eyes meet again.
He stops as we reach the door to the garage and looks as though he may want to say something, while his mouth is slightly agape, but he says nothing. He gently places me back onto my feet and then opens the door for me, motioning me into the abyss of the garage.
I walk down the steps to the cement floor of the garage, feeling the cold of the outside creep up my toes and through my legs. For some reason they aren’t even going to turn the lights on, so yet again I am leading myself blindly.
I hear the door to the indoors shut and lock and in almost no time at all, I feel Kael behind me. He’s such an incredibly large mass that I wouldn’t be surprised if bugs started orbiting him in hopes that he would be their bug-sun; he’s like a huge mobile radiator.
I feel him put his right arm on my waist, willing me to the left. After a short walk, my hands finally meet a rather scarred up van. I’m guessing it’s the one that Devlin and Mara came in and Kael knocks softly on its exterior.
The side door slides open and he hoists me up into the back without a word. He slides the door shut and then I hear the passenger door open and close.
This van obviously isn’t a medical van, like the one I rode here in, but it has the look of a secret spy outpost or something. Edan is sitting, looking forward at an incredible array of computer screens that ha
ve blueprints, surveillance camera footage, and just about anything else you could think of, their screens shining light into the dark van.
“Sit down over there, Aidan,” calls Edan as he motions to a chair against the opposite wall. He does not look over and I move myself to the lonely chair.
I feel the engine start and soon we are creeping out of the garage and up the great driveway. I hear no voices, no laughter, only the soft humming sound of the computer and its numerous monitors.
Edan touches one of the screens, causes the monitors to suddenly shut off. He straps himself into the chair and lays his head on the headrest. I feel tense, but the darkness shields his face from my view.
And so we start our trek forward, toward the belly of the beast.
After a rather dismal car ride into the city, which lacked any communication or light, I finally feel the van pull to a heavy stop. I can feel the tires spin and after having enough experience with the Midwest in the winter, there’s most likely a nice layer of ice or snow on the roads.
I hear the front doors open and close and then the side door finally comes sliding open. Kael and Kane are standing there, faces looking rather solemn. Behind them I see a feathering of snow gliding through the air like powdered sugar. The two of them look like they’re suffering from a rather bad case of dandruff.
“We forgot to check the weather,” Kael admits as he runs his fingers through his hair.
Kane’s face morphs into a little smirk. He looks as though he may let out a giggle, but Kael shoots him a glance and walks off before he can.
“Poor guy, he can never remember everything,” Kane admits lightheartedly.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and Kane gives me his hand to help me out of the van. As he quickly puts me on the ground, I take a look around the alleyway we’re parked in. The ground, along with the piles of trash and debris from the nearby buildings, is shrouded in snow and ice. I clasp and rub my hands together, attempting to keep them warm in the below freezing temperatures.
Kane and I grab some gear, much less than we had intended to bring, and check to make sure we’ve got everything we need. After going over our checklist, we shut the van doors and get ready to go.
Kael has positioned himself at the very end of the alleyway behind a large metal dumpster. Kane and I move stealthily towards him, wary of who or what may be watching for intruders.
Kael motions to us to move up behind him, and we do with no stray sounds. The quiet of the alleyway seems to filter itself through my ears, making my hearing become incredibly clear. I can hear the quiet clinking of aluminum cans and the whisper of a garbage bag from ten feet away. It must be the adrenaline.
My companions’ breathing is loud and rough, a side effect of the toxins taken in during the purging. Fortunately for me, I do not suffer from said problem, as I breathe as softly as any girl should. Kael hands me a small earpiece, our only connection to Edan, who is manning the computers back in the van. He will be our eyes and ears, keeping a close eye on surveillance cameras and leading us through the building, hopefully with ease.
Kael leads us through a door in the building to our right and then guides us down a poorly lit stairwell into a rather dank, putrid-smelling basement. A light bulb, hanging by a single wire, swings like a pendulum as we pass by, a physical reminder of how precious our little hour worth of time is. If we do not succeed, we will lose something even more valuable than money—a life.
Situated in the middle of the street—an old manhole is our way into Guerra’s town hall and Kael lifts it up and out with a crowbar. He doesn’t even break a sweat. Kane slips down first, Kael helps me down, and then he comes down last. He replaces the manhole cover as he comes down.
Our feet tread lightly through the tunnel linking this building and the city hall, which is an apparent emergency escape route. The grimy puddle water seeps through my shoes and I can’t help but feel disgusted by its trespass.
I remember when I still lived in my immaculate little world of mine, when we would hear on the news about the attacks, about the horrible people doing horrible things to innocent people. As horrifying as it was, we all continued to live on, unaware that a growing power was lurking so close to us. Our price on human life was appalling; we thought nothing of each other, only of ourselves.
If only we could go back, if only we could begin to see how monstrous we had become, then perhaps this would’ve never happened. Maybe if we had stood up before they took control, before they chained us to one another, which finally showed us how similar to one another we are, we would’ve been able to bring about a change. We all simply wish to live our lives, and that is all we had asked for then. To live our lives.
We had always thought we’d be given, even at the bare minimum, that. But we were wrong. When the body count began to pile up, we started to open our eyes to the horrors that were plaguing our streets, ripping our families apart, destroying everything that we had held dear. But alas, we were too late. Rebellions started sprouting up everywhere and people were really getting mad, which is what they should’ve been feeling even before the destruction of our artificial fabric of life.
Most of the rebellions had been crushed, with the people falling easily at the hand of the military. We were weak, we knew nothing of revolution, nothing of war, nothing of loss, but some of us still lived on. I remember seeing the mounds of the dead, the repugnant, horrid scent of death filing through my nostrils, the sound of bodies being dragged. That revelation I will never forget.
I am human and I do have a conscience, but I am mad. Not the sort of mad that gets you sent to a psyche ward, but the kind of mad that drives you to do something about it. The kind of mad that doesn’t just allow you to sit back in your comfy chair and watch your life—your artificial life—pass you by.
I will fight with every last breath of me to help, to change things, to halt the evil, and I know that the first thing that must be accounted for is human life. No more can die, no more can suffer like the victims of this infective cleansing. The first thing we need to do to start this new world off is to help one another, to make sure that if you die in the name of freedom, then there will be someone just as passionate and strong to take your place alongside the rest of the rebellion. I have never heard Taylor speak, but I know that someone who’s a part of this faction of hope is someone worth saving. I do not need evidence; I know deep down in my heart that saving her will be a step in the right direction—a step in the direction of change.
Change is such a vague word, a change in what? It does not even begin to come close to what needs really to happen. We need to develop the world into the place that we’ve always dreamed of, a place that is not controlled by greed and power, but a place that is controlled by voluntary charity and individual freedom.
My thoughts slow down finally and I realize we’re already to the other side of the tunnel, right below the basement of the city hall. Sometimes I really don’t realize how long my mental rants go on; they just fire me up and get me going sometimes. I really just like to roll with it.
Kael brings himself to a sudden halt behind a pile of boxes covered in old Pepsi labels and crouches down. Kane and I follow suit behind the nearest pile of boxes to us and wait for the signal from Kael.
After a couple painfully silent moments, he wags a couple fingers in our direction. As he brings himself back to his full height, I finally take in the grandeur of his being. Standing around six feet tall, he truly is a stronghold of a man: tall, structured, strapping. I snap myself out of this thought and follow Kane closely, dodging around more piles of debris and always staying a step behind Kael.
Peering through a pile of old exercise equipment, I spy elevator doors. A sleeping guard is sprawled out in an uncomfortable-looking manner on an ancient card table chair. His snores drift through the tunnel, hoarse enough to make it sound like he may have a cold.
We dash from pile to pile, quick and silent, being especially wary about making stray sounds. As we all c
ome to a halt behind a gargantuan heap of trash, Kael brings a finger to his lips and whispers, “Wait.” We comply and watch as Kael silently glides over to the fatigued guard. With one fell swoop, he grabs the man by the neck and with a loud “crack,” the man slumps all the way to the ground.
“Come on, he’s the only one,” Kael whispers as he licks his lips.
“Is he okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, he’ll wake up in a couple hours with a horrid little knot in his neck.”
“Sort of similar to what Kael wakes up with every morning,” Kane adds.
After shooting a look at Kane, Kael walks over to the elevator. He glances back at us and shrugs his shoulders, evidently unsure if we should go through it or not.
“There aren’t stairs?” Kane and I ask in unison.
“I guess not,” he says.
“That’s gotta be a safety hazard or against fire codes or something. I thought you Americans were worry warts,” mutters Kane.
“Apparently not,” I say with a shrug.
Kael pushes the “up” button and the familiar “ding” chimes. The elevator doors open, vacant of any unforeseen guards. Thank god for life’s little mercies.
The three of us step through the steel doors and are sent down deeper into the building after Kael pushes the “4” button. There are 7 sublevels, apparently where all of the real business is taken care of. The actual city hall has been left abandoned, an obvious attempt to keep this place hidden.
The weightless feeling of falling makes its way through me, creeping and pulling at my innards. I never liked the feeling. Kael places his hand on the low of my back, having obviously noticed my discomfort. I look up at him and he gives me a reassuring smile.
“You alright?” he asks softly.
“Yeah, uh, just not a big fan of elevators.” My voice wavers in reaction to his touch. I hope he didn’t notice.
“Either that or the thought of going down to the fourth floor and being greeted by an array of guards with guns and chainsaws and whatnot, or maybe that’s just my fear...” Kane trails off. As I look up at Kael and see the smile on his face, I can tell he’s glad he’s got Kane. He’s always there to lighten the situation, rather we want him to or not.
As the metal box of an elevator comes to a sudden halt, I watch as Kane and Kael ready themselves, obviously expecting a fight waiting for us. Kane holds a nightstick of some sort, one that would be a part of the uniform for someone on the police force and Kael is merely wielding his fists, but on his back I can see he has a pistol of some sort. Now that’s something you don’t see every day: a civilian with a gun. It would certainly make the government’s skin crawl to know that not only does a civilian have a gun, but one such person that may become a problem for them in the near future.
I keep my knife carefully tucked away in my sleeve, unwilling to jump into the fight unless I have to.
The thick doors slide open quietly and the elevator lets out that all too familiar “ding” again. Kael steps forward and peers out, wary of a surprise attack.
My breath catches in my throat, anxiety creeping through every inch of me. And yet nothing happens.
Kael turns his head back to us and without him saying a word, I can tell there’s no one around.
“Is the coast clear?” Kane whispers sharply.
“Aye, not a soul in sight.”
His whispering voice is raspy and I start to suspect the cause of his deep voice may be attributed to a past of smoking.
Kane and I walk out behind Kael as silent as mice, but as soon as we reach the hallway we see that we are no longer the only ones on this floor.
To our left, two men, both blonde and both rather short, spot us and as soon as they realize that we’re probably not janitors or nomadic repairmen, their facial expressions turn panicked.
Their movements are sluggish, obviously not having been exposed to the toxins, and Kael and Kane are upon them before they can even get out an astonished cry. Kael cracks one upside the head with his elbow, sending him against the wall and Kane uses the butt-end of his stick to nail his foe in the temple. In less than six seconds the fight is over, if that’s really what you’d call it. I’d call it a whooping.
“Come on, I have no doubt there’ll be more of them, Kael says solemnly.
A little static fizzle rolls through my ear piece and I can hear Edan’s voice on the other end of the receiver.
“Guys, take your nearest right, but be careful. There are probably guards in there and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re not doing much work. Be on your guard.”
Kael cracks his knuckles and his back in attempt to loosen up his muscles for the fight. Kane does it his own way when it comes to stretching; he just rubs his hands together and does a sort of running in place thing, then ends it with a little clap. He is a bit of a weirdo.
Kael looks to me and says, “Stay back, but if you can tell we’re ‘n a pickle, please jump in at any time.”
“I never did like pickles,” says Kane. Kael and I look at each other and roll our eyes. Kane just never stops does he?
As we begin making our way towards the next hallway, I can’t help but stop and look at the two unconscious men on the floor. The one that Kael thrashed may be dead from the looks of it; blood has begun pouring out his ear onto the green upholstered carpet. Kane’s just looks mighty unconscious; his body’s slumped over a trashcan and is as limp as a wet t-shirt on a clothesline. But there’s something else I can’t help but notice. On both of their belt loops, there’s a small silver picture ID card, but instead of having names, there are only numbers.
“Kael, what are these?” I ask, while the two backtrack.
“Looks like an ID card of some sort,” he says.
Kane scans both of the cards and a sly grin spreads across his face. He obviously knows more than we do.
“I heard that to keep any possibility of a rebellion dead, that they’ve issued these ID cards. There’s a tracking device in ‘em. Apparently one of the new jobs being offered by the government is “surveillance worker.” He gestures the quote signs with his fingers quite vigorously. “You become their favorite reality show if you do somethin’ yer not supposed to. And if you continue to do it, then they swat yeh like a little fly on the wall.”
“They don’t need anybody steppin’ out o’ place and into the way of their master plan,” says Kael grimly.
“Aye. Killin’ all those people mercilessly was enough trouble. They don’t need any more trouble from the folk who are still livin’”.
“Should we take the IDs? What if they get suspicious when they notice they haven’t moved for a while?”
“Yeh, I suppose it couldn’t hurt, we just can’t forget to toss ‘em before we leave,” says Kael.
“No kiddin’. We don’t need any more unwelcomed visitors back at the mansion,” says Kane with a wink in my direction.
I roll my eyes again and once we manage to get the IDs off the men, we move towards the next hallway.
The hallway we’re standing in looks rather office-like, a number of dull scene paintings hang on the dark gray walls, some of them hiding old dirty smears or maybe a hole in the wall. The green flooring looks dark brown in some places and I wouldn’t doubt if those stains were from blood. I’m beginning to have second thoughts about how office-like this place really is. I move my eyes away from the ground and look straight forward; I need to stay focused on the task at hand, not stains on some old carpet.
Coffee, I tell myself. It could’ve just been coffee.
I hear the dull murmur of the fluorescent light hanging above us and then I hear the guards in the next hallway over.
“Heh, Timmy. You really think you can just squander me outta money? I don’t put up with young rats like you. When you play poker with us, you play fair.”
I can hear somebody crack their knuckles. Kane, Kael, and I all come to a stop at the end of our hallway, being careful of exposing ourselves. We all peer
out--in a somewhat comical manner--and watch as the scene unfolds for us.
“I do play fair,” says a man in his early twenties. He looks to be about my age, with blonde hair and dark brown eyes. He would be kind of cute, but his face is scrunched up in a look of angry shame. “You can’t just talk to me like that old man.”
There are several other guards watching the scene unfolding, all with amused looks upon their faces. This is just a nice slice of drama for them to enjoy.
“Boy, you got no idea who yer tryin’ to tussle with. You better shut your mouth before I knock out all yer pretty little teeth.”
The “old” man doesn’t look that old. His wrinkles may be distinct, but his hair is as dark as his eyes; there’s not a gray strand of hair in sight.
“You couldn’t lay a finger on me. I got twenty years on you.” The younger guard’s voice cracks as he says twenty, which causes the observing guards to burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. Reminds me of high school.
In an apparent attempt to regain his pride, the young man pushes the older one back, sending him against the wall and in turn knocking things off a shelf. The older man brushes himself off and stands up tall, with a vengeful look on his face. This could get ugly.
The two begin to brawl, fists flying and bruises being produced. The observing guards are all yelling and whatnot, one of them throwing out the expected “fight!” every once in a while.
Kane and Kael exchange a look. Kane wags his eyebrows in amusement and Kael just raises one.
The two men finally start slowing down and the audience starts to get bored.
“Somebody just knock the poor fella out!”
“Come on, guys, cut it out.”
With a sudden push, the younger guard goes flying onto and off the card table. A couple hoots and hollers ring out, but then it gets quiet.
He pulls himself up off the ground and readjusts himself.
“Man, you sure got beat by an old man, boy!” says a man with one jagged tooth.
“This don’t prove nothing! I’m outta here.” He turns away from the snickering group and begins walking toward us. We pull ourselves out of his view in time and attempt to hide ourselves against the wall. In a sudden realization that a real fight is about to begin, Kael moves me behind Kane and they both give each other a nod.
As the guard rounds the corner, Kael grabs him by the shoulders and smashes his head into the wall. The sound is deafening on the suddenly quiet floor. As quick as lightning, the men respond to the sound--dashing to see what’s happened. None of them look too happy when they see us.
“Watchin’ a fight isn’t as fun as bein’ in one, mates,” growls Kael.
In almost no time at all, the brawl has really begun. Kael incapacitates two guards at once with a shelf he ripped off the wall and quickly moves onto his next victim. Kane is dodging punches from every direction, dipping, jumping, and giving out a laugh in response to the men’s mystified faces. He may not be as strong as Kael, but he sure can keep his foes guessing where he’ll be next.
One guard spots me and counts me as being an easy target. He grabs my wrist, but in reaction I give him a prompt sucker punch to the face. He staggers backwards and falls over. I hope the next time he thinks he can take advantage of a girl, he thinks again.
The fight is swift and eerily soundless at some points, but it comes to an end rapidly.
Kael wipes the sweat off of his forehead and wipes his hands on his pant legs. Kane picks up his club off the ground, which he had dropped and had resorted to knocking his foe out with his forehead. That “crack!” still echoed through my mind.
I, on the other hand, continue to stand there in bewildered amusement. I most likely have a very dumb look on my face. Nine men lay scattered about all over the room, most likely a break room, having been beaten down by two civilians. How embarrassing.
I’d guess there will be some seriously angry words spat at them once Guerra hears about this.
The two friends came out of the fight with nearly no injuries. The only new mark on either of them is a cut on Kael’s lip. I’d wipe it off for him, but I don’t want him to get any ideas from my concern. Not to mention, Kane would not be able to keep his mouth shut. He has no filter.
Not that I like Kael or anything, I just care about him. He’s an incredibly kind man, and that’s one attribute I haven’t seen for a long time. He may not be the comedian that Kane is, but he’s still has a warm presence.
My unfocused thoughts are halted as static plays over my ear piece. Edan must have something to say.
“Good work, that went as well as I hoped it would. On the other side of the room, there should be a large metal door, probably stainless steel or titanium. Walk over there.”
The three of us make our way to the door and wait for more instruction.
“You’ve got a strong arm, Aidan.” You can tell he said that with a smirk. “Alright then. Kane, you have the codes right? It’s logarithmically sealed, and I’d rather not have to figure that whole riddle out again.”
“Uh, Edan... Where’s the key pad?”
“Are ya blind? There’s a panel to the left of the door. Oh wait--it’s incased in the wall. Go strip one of the guards of their ID badge. There’s a barcode scanner on the right. Scan it, and the key pad should reveal itself.”
Kael flashes me a smile and brings out the ID we had picked up earlier. After a number of beeps after scanning the ID, the keypad comes out of the wall. But just then, the lights flickered and shut off.
“Edan, what’s happenin?” Kael asks with an added alarmed edge to his voice.
“Did the lights turn off? Well it turns out it’s just a precaution. There’s no problem. Just punch the numbers in and get through the door.”
Kane pushes the blue lit up numbers with a sort of rhythm and then we hear the lock unhook and the door slide itself open.
The room is nearly pitch black and Kael grabs a hold of my wrist, obviously having adjusted to the light quickly. He knows me well already; I couldn’t see a person in the dark if they were two inches away from me. We all walk into the room warily.
“No guards should be in here, but if there are, I apologize. Fightin’ in the dark isn’t all too fun.”
“Kane and I like a challenge,” Kael says. I can hear Kane chuckle a couple of feet away.
“Aidan, get out a flashlight.”
I search through my backpack and hand the cylindrical-shaped object to Kael. A beam of light appears and fortunately, no looming guards are revealed.
The light beam scans across a small room, maybe ten by ten feet in diameter. There’s nearly nothing in the room, other than a filing cabinet and a waste basket in the corner. Kael aims the beam of light at the filing cabinet and lingers there for a moment. The filing cabinet in large and a pale green; its handles look a bit rusty and the paint seems to be chipping off the sides.
“You see the cabinet?”
“Aye, we do.”
“Then slide the ID through the second drawer’s handle. It should open up and give ya a key.”
Kael hands me the flashlight and tells me to keep it aimed at the filing cabinet. I follow him up to it and watch as he slides the card through the handle.
“BEEP!”
And with that, the lights flicker on and the white-walled and gray-floored room is revealed in its entirety.
The drawer of the filing cabinet slides open and Kael reaches in and pulls out a small iron skeleton key.
“I guess the fancy electronic security systems weren’t enough fer ‘em. They had to go and get somethin’ old to throw us off,” says Kael.
“Well the jokes on them, ‘cause we’re prepared!” Kane exclaims.
“I’m guessing you mates got the skeleton key out then, eh?”
“Good guess, bub,” Kane says with a smirk.
“Alright, don’t be a whacker, mate. Now retrace your steps back to the elevator, but instead o’ going left, this time go right.”
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“That’s a bunch of shite, whatever a whacker is, I’m sure I’m not one,” Kane sniffs. “Bloody Aussies...”
Kael and I share a look that turns into a smile, and Kael says, “Awh, Kane, he just doesn’t understand Irish fellas like you.”
That last statement sparks a confused question to form on my lips.
“I thought you two met in the UK?”
“Yeah we did, love, but I was just in the UK when the shite hit the fan,” Kane admits. “But I’m an Irish fella to the core.” He beats his chest with his fist and I roll my eyes.
We make our way back towards the elevator, being sure not to nudge any unconscious guards. We wouldn’t want them to come to when we’re this close to getting Taylor out of here.
As we leave the guard break room, Kane shuts off the light with a giggle.
“A bunch o’ sleepin’ beauties we’ve got here. We wouldn’t want to arouse—er—rouse them from their sleep.”
“Are ye sure ye wouldn’t wanna arouse ‘em, Kaney boy?” Kael asks with a chuckle.
Kane’s eyes narrow and he skulks off into the hall.
Kael pats me on the back and says, “Love, Kane may be able to make jokes, but damn, sometimes he sure can’t take ‘em.”
I smile and follow Kael out of the room.
The happy feeling that just entered my body leaves as fast as it came.
“Heh, heh, what’ve we got here?”
The voice is all too familiar; the five men gathered in the room watch us carefully. Only one of them will speak.
Kane is lying on the floor, completely still. I don’t see blood, but I let out a gasp in response.
“What’ve ye done to ‘im? I swear to yeh--if ye hurt him, I’ll put you all into a world o’ hurt,” Kael snarls. His voice is deep and rough. He lunges forward, but I grab his arm in time to stop him from making a mess of things.
“Calm down, friend, we haven’t done anything to the poor guy; he’s just taking a nap.”
I can hardly look at him as he speaks. His sandy-blonde hair looks bright in the hall, but his eyes—they look like small black orbs.
Guerra.
There’s something different about him. He doesn’t look as suave, as put together. He looks older, much much older.
He’s standing in front of two muscular men and standing behind two more. They all look perfectly militaristic, all with buzz cuts, all standing straight, and all with a focused expression on their face.
“Hello you, I haven’t seen you since the fire,” he says to me. I can feel his eyes burning into my skin. I do not return the gaze. “I suppose that means there’s one less casualty, for now.” The most terrifying, crooked grin spreads upon his lips. Kael will have nothing of that.
“Ye won’t be hurting her, I promise ye that,” he says as he moves himself in front of me. He grabs my right hand and stands his ground.
“Oh, why would you think that? You really think you can beat out four special operatives? We train our men to destroy scum like you. Just give her here and I promise I’ll let this whole thing slide. You can take your sleepy friend and just stroll on out of here,” Guerra says in a sickeningly pleasant tone. He even smiles.
Kael pauses for a moment, perhaps pondering if I’m really worth it. I wouldn’t blame him if he took Kane. Kane is basically his brother.
“Nah, no deal mate, Kane may be my best lad, but I’m not leaving her to scum like you.”
“Suit yourself. It’s your death.”
Guerra moves out of his little castle of men and moves over to the other door.
“Don’t be kind to them, but please try to keep the blood stains to the minimum.” He says sardonically. He doesn’t look back at us as he walks into the other room.
A deadly silence slides through the room and I can’t help but flinch in fear. The four men show no emotion as they stare straight at Kael. Kael doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t shudder, he doesn’t move a muscle. He simply returns the stare. I let go of his hand, knowing that there’s no way to stop this fight.
Kael lets out a deep breath. “So, who’s first?”
“You,” they say unanimously. Creepy.
Kael glances back at me and mutters, “Robots don’t stand a chance against a man.”
And with that, round two begins.
The four men are deadly fast and precise, but Kael matches them in every aspect of the fight. He doesn’t ever turn his back on any of them and strangely enough, he’s the one fighting offensively. A hook, a jab, a kick—less than a second goes by and one of the guards is already incapacitated.
They scuffle, fists flying, for a minute without a knockout. Every second the fight continues, the more my anxiety swells and expands through me. I can’t just stand here and watch; I know Kael’s going to get tired sooner or later.
Suddenly, two of the men grab Kael and force him against a wall. The third begins beating his face to a pulp and then my reflexes take over. I eye the Fichus tree nestled in the corner and I throw it to about three feet away from me.
With one exceptionally smooth movement, I run, jump off the potted plant, and nail the guard hitting Kael right in the side of the head. The force of my punch sends him to the ground, stunned immediately. The two guards that had been holding Kael move quickly to catch me, but Kael grabs a hold of the guard to his left and smashes his head into the wall.
With a sharp twist of my wrist, the second guard sends me sprawling on the ground. I don’t even have the chance to let out a cry of pain. The guard grabs me by my foot, but before he has the chance to break my leg, Kael grabs him.
He grabs him by the mouth and the back of his head, twists with a swift, strong jerk and with that, the guard falls to the ground—paralyzed and silent.
Kael and I both let out a breath and take in a couple more as we take in the sight of the four men, possibly dead, on the floor.
“Thanks, love,” he chokes out between breaths.
All I can do for now is smile, but it’s enough.
Pain begins pouring through my wrist and I give out a soft moan and somehow Kael hears it. After pushing the guard with the broken neck out of the way, he moves over to me and has me sit down.
He takes off the black sweatshirt he had been wearing, revealing a black t-shirt underneath. He then somehow rips off one of the sweatshirt’s sleeves with one tear, and strategically rips it down some more to make a makeshift sling for my most likely sprained wrist.
After wrapping my arm and slinging it over my shoulder, he stops and looks at me. His eyes are thoughtful and thankful.
“I guess our business here isn’t still quite done yet.” The left half of his mouth curls up in a smile.
We get up and as we walk towards the door to the cell room, we both remember Kane. Uh, whoops?
“I think we can leave him here. I doubt he’ll be runnin’ off anytime soon,” Kael says matter-of-factly. I nod with a smile.
Before we open the door to the next round of Guerra’s madness, Kael stops. He seems to be thinking about saying something, but his eyes are clouded. His hand moves to the holster on his back and he removes the gun.
“Best be safe than sorry,” he says.
He looks me in the eye and then turns the doorknob and we move in quickly. Let’s just hope this is the easiest leg of the race.
“Well I’m glad that was quick, I suppose we can get onto our next rebel problem,” Guerra says. He’s positioned in front of the last cell on the left; his eyes scan the occupant of the cell and I can guess who’s in there.
There are four cells on each side and from the looks of it, there’s only one prisoner. The metal bars of the cells are rusted and touching one would probably result in a nasty case of tetanus. The cement floor is covered in water stains; I spy no drain so I’d guess that the building above leaked and the water drained into here. The mold on the walls and in the corners pay testament to it.
Kael points the gun at Guerra and Guerra finally turns. His eye
brows furl in shock and anger and his lips curl up into a snarl.
“You two just won’t quit, will you? You really think this one little girl means anything? She doesn’t. Nor do either of you. Please just get your stupid little brains to curl around the idea that you cannot win,” he spits. “Humanity has lost the all-destructive battle against money and power, civilians have no value and they shan’t ever gain any back.”
“Bullshit we won’t,” I growl. I’m just as surprised at my gusto as anyone else in the room. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve been through? Do you have any idea of how much I’ve lost?”
“Boo-hoo,” he snarls. He straightens himself out and scans my face. “Get over it. I’ve heard that story a million times. If your life is so freakin’ difficult then why don’t you just walk yourself to the nearest bridge and end it, or I suppose I could do you a favor.”
I can feel my blood boiling and my face turning hot. It’s truly a wonder that I haven’t already strangled him with my bare hands.
“You are a monster,” I screech. “You are the reason that humanity has always been looked at cynically. People like you who have no soul, no feelings. Why the hell do you think you deserve the right to rule the world? You deserve nothing, nada, zilch, NOT ANYTHING.”
Guerra steps back in response; I guess my anger has unsettled him.
“Why would you do this?” I stop, suddenly curious. “Why would you just fall into this madness?
His eyes fall and I know there’s a story. His shoulders hunch and I see his bottom lip curl with anger.
“Because I was never in control of my life. I grew up with an abusive mother. She was the kind of woman who everyone loved, but then when it came to her own children, she would unleash hell. I was unloved. I was unwanted. Every goddamn day she would beat me. I couldn’t step out of line for a moment. And now I can. Now I can make my own decisions. Now I AM IN CONTROL.”
His hand reaches up to his forehead and he wipes the hair out of his eyes. He stands up straighter, bringing back his arrogant edge.
“And I killed her. I killed that demon. That fucking tyrant. She begged me for forgiveness and I knew then and there that if I went through with it, I’d be in control of my own life. I wouldn’t just be some inadequate child. I would control my fate. So she died at my hands.
“Honey—er —Aidan,” he pauses. “I deserve to rule the world because I am powerful, because I am clever, because I do what I have to do to get what I want. I truly am a very determined, persuasive man when need be.”
He begins to walk towards us and Kael shakes his gun at him, reminding him of his vulnerable position. He stops and looks me dead in the eye. I return the gaze. I think it’s the adrenaline coursing through me that makes me unable to falter, but in fact, I may have just broken through the wall keeping me from my confidence.
His piercing eyes look to Kael, suddenly wary of the man with the gun.
“You deserve nothin’ more than to be put in the ground like all o’ the others ye’ve killed,” Kael says coolly.
“Now that’s just unkind.”
“And tellin’ Aidan she should walk off a bridge is kind?”
“Oh, but that was purely a joke. I would never say something like that to such a kind girl like her.” His dark eyes graze over me and I’m getting real close to smashing this guy’s head in.
“You are a dirty rotten liar, just like the rest of your lot!”
All three of our heads whip over to where the voice had come from.
Taylor?
So much for her being a mute. Taylor’s arms are wrapped around the bars of her cells, revealing numerous bruises and cuts. She looks at Guerra; her gaze unfaltering.
“Just shut your mouth, Guerra. Having some dark past doesn’t give you the right to ruin people’s lives! You just don’t get it, do you? ” Her voice is shrill and full of angst.
You can really tell Taylor hasn’t talked much for a while. Her voice is hoarse and not very clear, but then again I figured she didn’t talk at all.
The left side of Kael’s mouth upturns in a smirk and Guerra wears a face that should be included as the picture for the definition of dumbstruck. Poor fool must’ve thought Taylor was a mute, but then again, so did I.
Guerra attempts to cover up his surprise and turns angry real quick.
“You little urchin! My men have been torturing you for a week now and you never say a peep, but now that these two charming people show up you’re a freakin’ blabbermouth,” he bellows and then takes in a deep breath. “Although now that you’ve started talking, I feel like we’ve made progress. You’ve finally cracked.”
“Ha, you joking? I didn’t crack, I haven’t told you anything you wanted to know--in fact I’ve said things you wanted to never have to hear.”
Guerra’s frustration flares and he begins stalking towards Taylor. Kael stops him with a “hey!” and raises his gun at him. Guerra begins to laugh.
The sound is unnerving in the way that it makes him sound like he’s gone completely ballistic. He sounds like a mad man. The laugh echoes through the small room and my body reacts to the strangeness by letting out a shiver. We all look at him, perplexed by his behavior.
“Shut up, ye bloody fool!” shouts Kael. His booming laughter quiets, but does not stop. He moves backwards slowly, still obviously aware of the danger posed by Kael and his gun.
His words are choked out between his cheerful laughs. “You really think killing me will do anything? This new government operates flawlessly, even when one member is lost. The other leaders are spread throughout the world, and it just so happens that border patrol is quite treacherous to deal with nowadays. We wouldn’t want you silly folk running around doing as you pleased.” I sense a lie in his tone when he said that, for his voice wavered a bit. He glances up at me nervously, but continues.
“Heh, we wanted to make sure we would not crumble like the many ‘prosperous’ nations before us, like back in the Blind Age. Remember history so you don’t repeat it, right?” He lets out a powerful laugh and leans back on a wooden chair that had been placed in front Taylor’s cell.
He licks his lips and runs his hands over his face; his eyes dance around the room, making him look even crazier. The laughter stops. A heavy silence falls in its place.
“No, you’re right,” Kael whispers solemnly. He looks to me and then to Taylor, whose eyes are still fixed on Guerra. Kael lowers his gun and takes a deliberate step forward. I feel an edge of panic run through me, but stop myself from pulling Kael back. Somehow I know he knows what he’s doing. I trust him.
“Smart man,” Guerra spouts. “Finally, someone who realizes their battle has been lost. It’s refreshing to see that you aren’t all as idiotic as we thought.” The way Guerra speaks reminds me of a carefree child; he sways his body in ecstasy and smiles every time he puts emphasis on his words.
Kael’s eyes are positioned on Guerra and Guerra’s on his. Time seems to go incredibly slow, every second seems to merge into the next, causing another powerful stillness to circulate through the room. Guerra pushes himself from the chair and as he stands up straight, Kael raises the gun and fires twice.
The sound is incredibly loud, even with a silencer on the gun. The roar of the gun overpowers the sound of Guerra crashing onto the chair, and then onto the ground. Kael places the gun back into the holster and looks down at the deranged general, who’s been reduced to a lost child on the brink of death.
“Repeatin’ history is never wise. I feel like it’s better to make it.”
Guerra’s face, pure with shock, shakes from the pain of the two fatal wounds. His lips quiver and tears run from his eyes. He lets out a loud sob, his body twisting as he shakes in agony. His hands grasp a leg of the chair, an apparent attempt to hold onto reality, but he knows as well as we do that his minutes of life left are numbered.
“Why?” He sobs. “You said I was right. Why would you even bother?”
“You may be only
one person, but all it takes to start an avalanche is one little disturbance at the very top,” Kael admits calmly. “You’re that one little disturbance, Guerra.”
That signature rage Guerra loves flares up one final time; he is unwilling to accept the truth. His voice is high and strained and he sounds like a child throwing a temper tantrum.
“You really think you have a chance at winning back your freedom? You’re as naïve and ignorant as ever. After seeing what was done to the rest of the world, you think two peo-three people could possibly do anything? NO. You mean nothing to this world, and as soon as you’re destroyed like the rest, you won’t even be a memory. YOU WILL NOT WIN. YOU CANNOT.”
Kael walks quietly over to stand right in front of Guerra. I cannot see Kael or Guerra’s face, but I hear Kael’s voice, calm and steady as ever.
“We’ll see about that.”
Guerra’s face contorts into a twisted smile and I can see it’s hard for him to keep it up. He’s adamant until the very end.
“God put a smile on your face, but you’re still one ugly motherfucker.”Another thunderous blast impacts into Guerra’s chest, and he is no more. My eyes close, unwilling to look at the carnage yet. I know that this was necessary, but I feel taken back. The memories of my family, of my life, of my freedom graze through my mind, and suddenly I feel afraid. Bloodshed has caused the old world to disintegrate, but is Guerra right? Is it true that one person will change nothing?
Guerra could’ve only been a pawn. How can we know we’ve done damage to this one-world government? Do they have replacements waiting for the death of another high standing official all of the time?
I stop myself. Guerra is getting exactly what he wanted—us to give up hope. I will not stand for it. This generation, if it can be called a generation at all and not just a pile of bodies, is in need of something; something that can bring about change—no—a revolution. We can be that change, those sparks that start the flame. Like the founding fathers in 1776, like the middle class in the French Revolution of 1830, like the Egyptians seeking democracy in the revolution of 2010. It has happened before, and I have a feeling it may happen again. Everything may be going against us, but really that could be to our advantage--things can only get better from here.
My thoughts are halted as Kael places his hand on my shoulder.
“He may be only a man, but he is a symbol of oppression. This was not done in vain.”
I open my eyes and look down at the bloody mess on the floor. Guerra is wrong. If he is as insignificant as he made himself out to be, then he will be nothing more for a memory. But people like us, people who do the right thing when everyone else won’t, will be remembered forever, maybe not by name or by our faces, but by the fact that we were the ones who stood up—the ones that would not sit any longer.
I feel a gentle squeeze on my shoulder and I stop and look at the one who sent it.
There is some small detail about Kael that makes him different from everyone at the mansion. It is not his dark brown hair, his thoughtful blue eyes, the scruff on his jaw, his substantial height, or even his proud way of carrying himself. He may be a man who seems to only purvey an appearance of prominence, but I think there’s more to him. It’s something deeper and something far stronger than just physical strength.
The way the refugees look at him, anyone can tell that he cares for them. He gives himself to help and take care of others, and I have no doubt that he would be self-sacrificing if it came to that. Well really, he is self-sacrificing. He works around the clock and he really doesn’t seem to leave time for himself.
But it’s even more than just that. The way that he has protected me, the way that he looks at me, is not just recognition or duty. It seems deeper and feels deeper.
I look to him, wishing I could know what he was thinking.
His eyes are shrouded by a brick wall he has built around himself. It is a wall that does not falter at attack or allow anyone through its impenetrable boundaries. I can’t help but wonder what really lies beyond that wall, if he is a gentle, loving man or if he’s just as powerful and strict as his exterior makes him out to be.
My thoughts show through to my cheeks and I feel the burning heat of a blush flush over me.
He drops his hand from my shoulder and kneels to Guerra’s bloody pulp of a body, looking for a key to get Taylor out of her prison.
“There’s a key ring on his belt,” she says hurriedly. Her face is calm, but from her tone of voice, you can tell she’s more than ready to be out of this place.
Kael shifts Guerra’s body so that it’s face down and then removes the key ring from his dark leather belt. He stands back up and looks down at Guerra, who’s positioned like an upside down crucifix on the sullied ground. He does not turn him back over, for he doesn’t deserve to be found in an honorable position.
Kael sifts through the keys on the key ring and comes to a rather large, archaic-looking skeleton key. It’s as good of a guess as any when it comes to opening an old, dilapidated prison cell.
After a quick turn of the key, Taylor is out standing with us, obviously thankful that she’ll be out of here soon.
“Was it just you two that came?”
Kael and I share a look, remembering our ally in the other room. “Ah, shit. Kane.” Kael leads us out to Kane’s unconscious body, and Taylor looks around with a look of confusion plastered on her face.
“What the heck happened out here? Did they all die from Kane’s terrible sense of humor or something?”
“Nah, we beat the tar out of ‘em,” Kael says with his signature smirk.
“Well it looks like you beat the life out of some of them,” Taylor admits.
“Well when they’re about this close to killin’ ye,” Kael holds out his thumb and forefinger, showing a miniscule distance. “You may react with absolutely no regard for kindness and fairness.”
“What happened to Kane?”
“They knocked him out.”
“Wow, I couldn’t tell that just by looking at him,” Taylor says sarcastically.
“You want me to take ye back to that comfy cell they got for ye? I’m pretty damn sure they’ll miss ye when they realize you’re gone.”
“No, that’s okay. I’m sure Mara is falling to pieces without me around,” Taylor says with a roll of her eyes.
Kael and I look to each other, unsure if we should inform her on Mara and Devlin being reunited. The look causes Taylor to become physically uneasy. Her eyes seem to bug out of her head and she obviously jumps to a dismal conclusion.
“What? Is Mara dead?”
“No, love, it’s just that she did find Devlin and they both got out,” Pause. “Well, and Aidan got out too.” He motions to me.
“Again, thank you Captain Obvious.”
Kael lets out a low guttural noise in response and leans over in an attempt to bring Kane back to consciousness.
“Come on lad, I don’t wanna have to carry ye out of here on me back.”
After a bit more coaxing, shaking, and encouragement, Kane finally opens his eyes. His eyelids flutter and he cringes in pain.
“Oooohhh bloody hell, mate.” His hand rubs his soon-to-be-bruised skull. “They caught me by surprise.”
“Aye, they caught us by surprise too. Can you move everything?”
Kane wiggles every limb successfully and brings himself to a sitting position very slowly. Kael kneels down and places a helpful hand on his pained friend’s shoulder.
“Can ye walk, mate? We need to get outta here and if ye can’t, I’ll help ye walk.”
“I think I need all the help I can get.”
Kael and I grab an arm each and hoist Kane up to his feet, being careful not to jumble his head around anymore than it’s already been.
We tread carefully into the elevator and silently listen to the “ding” and feel gravity pulling us back up to ground floor.