by Brian Cotton
***
“I got this!” Harvey shouted as his partner refused to back off despite the protests.
“You need my help! Our friends are down there by themselves. They need our help! Now, stop your belly aching and let me help you!”
There was no disguise in the voice this time. Harvey didn’t want to believe it, though. He simply grunted again and let the boy behind him take over. His eyes moved up to the flag that was rising through the darkness. Harvey relinquished control and let the kid behind him do the work on the rope.
As he watched the flag move up, it made all this madness worth it. It wouldn’t be long from today when all the other rebels would awake from their slumbers. When they caught a glimpse of Old Glory flying true once more, how could they not be inspired? And, the USR, he wished that he could see the looks on her leader’s faces when they saw that flag on their Capitol. The one building that they built to try and prove, once and for all, that they had defeated America and that it was no more. They had developed a nasty habit for underestimating the resistance.
Now, they would know that America was not dead. Yet.
