Patriots

by Max Masen

  How did Joe do it? How did he come back from the dead? We all thought we had seen the last of him but he made his miraculous recovery solely for revenge. Or, perhaps, revenge was what fueled his recovery. Nonetheless, he wasn’t dead. He had lost his army, though. All that remained was a few men, broken-down walls, and a plethora of military-grade weapons. Unfortunately for him, he hadn’t enough men to man all of those weapons. For a leader like Joe, however, this was a minor setback. All he needed was more bodies and he would have his army yet again.

  After the slave rebellion, we went one way through the forest and Joe had the other direction all to himself. He knew to follow us would be suicide. We outnumbered him vastly. Therefore, he stuck to his side for a while. He attempted to spread out, but other raider groups in the area began killing off his search parties. He grew desperate. But desperation fuels creativity. And when the person in question is a creative type already, the change becomes drastic.

  Joe went beyond his walls. He lived as a wanderer for quite some time. His remaining army back at his camp wondered where he had went. They waited days and the days turned into weeks. Joe still hadn’t returned. They needed food and water but still they remained stagnant. Joe’s loyal army wouldn’t move without his command. Or, at least for a few more days they wouldn’t. They were on the brink of starving to death. They couldn’t wait much longer.

  Word had reached Joe’s group that he made contact with another group. Most likely it was a raider group. They didn’t know how large the group was or their motives. All they could do was sit back and wait for more news.

  Two more weeks passed and news had reached Joe’s group that Joe was dead. He attempted to make an alliance with the other group, but the story went that it did not go over well. The new group had Joe killed. This was not true, of course.

  The real story was that Joe made contact with another group outside of his walls. They weren’t raiders, however. They were another group of average people trying to survive. They numbered fifteen. Prior to violent engagements with a different survivor group in the region, there were over thirty of them. Joe approached cautiously and made his intentions known.

  Joe reached the destroyed house that this group called home. They switched houses every day, but Joe knew this was where he would find them because he had followed them back to it. His approach was to make himself appear kind and sympathetic.

  The group’s leader made herself visible and demanded that Joe explain why he was there.

  “My people need help. There’s very few of us left,” Joe pleaded. He attempted to act like a normal person. He tried to blend in.

  “Keep your distance,” the woman demanded harshly.

  “Give me a chance,” Joe requested. “We need help.”

  “We have problems of our own,” the woman explained. “There’s other groups in the area that want what we have. We can’t afford to give you anything.”

  “Tell me about these groups.” Joe used a kind, caring voice.

  “How about I have you killed instead?” the woman asked rhetorically. “I’ve had enough of this.”

  The woman raised her hand and turned her back. Two armed guards grabbed Joe’s arms. One of them kicked in Joe’s leg and forced him to the ground. A third guard approached with a machete from behind. Joe heard the distinguishable sound of steel and pleaded wildly with the woman. The machete pierced Joe’s stomach quickly. The guard pulled the blade out of his stomach and all persons in the room gazed at Joe’s new wound. He got to his feet and continued talking. He made a proposition in a manner that didn’t fit his new condition.

  “Help me and I’ll help you. Of course, I’ll help you first. So, I suppose it’s I’ll help you and you help me. What do you say?” Joe asked with his hand out to accept a handshake.

  Joe’s side was bleeding profusely, but he wouldn’t show that it affected him. If it did affect him, that is. The others in the room were in shock worse than Joe was. A dead man standing in front of them making a request. He didn’t even request medical assistance. They were most likely wondering when he would drop dead. When he did, he would no longer be their problem. They continued waiting for that moment, but it never came. Joe continued standing in a business-like, charismatic manner awaiting the acceptance of his offer. The woman offered her hand limply and with terror in her face. Joe reached his hand out further and grabbed the woman’s hand tightly with his own.

  Their pact was complete; the deal had been made. What the deal was, the woman was too in shock to remember. She just knew that Joe was dangerous and was, at least for the short-term, an ally.

  “Good!” Joe exclaimed. “Now, where do you keep the booze?”

  A guard approached and pointed to the side of the building. Joe took the cue and walked over to his newly-acquired alcohol.

  Maybe that was Joe’s goal all along. No, he still wanted revenge. He wasn’t content with just a large piece of land and a small private army defending it. He wanted the Hyenas at his back. He wanted the army. He wanted America. He wanted everything.

  Some versions of the story say that Joe eventually collapsed and succumbed to his wound. However, legend goes that Joe kept standing and never accepted medical help, despite the group having a former medical professional.

  “Get your people together,” Joe said smoothly. “Get all of your weapons in their hands. We’re finishing this.”

  “That was our plan all along. You can’t just say that and expect it to happen,” the woman said.

  Joe looked at her intently and said: “No, you’ve had small skirmishes. I’ll give you war. I’ll give you total war.”

  Later that night, after Joe had devised a plan for his new group he had acquired, he commanded that they split up into three-man teams and hide on the rooftops. Most of the groups had machine guns or pistols, most likely acquired from a military base not far from there. They hid for hours, careful not to make too much noise. If they had given away their positions, the plan would be compromised.

  The rooftops they manned surrounded the center of town. Joe hooked up a loudspeaker to the area before they got into position. He continuously requested help over it. His voice gradually got louder and louder. Joe’s group was losing faith in him. They weren’t fully with him to start, but now they thought he was crazy. The hours dragged on until they finally saw a five-man team come in through the alleys. They approached the area with caution. They looked up at the loudspeaker and back at each other. They were confused. Suddenly, Joe’s voice came through the loudspeaker: “I’m sorry you have to die this way. I’m sure you were just pawns, anyway, but this is a message.” He took a moment pause. “Open fire.” The five people in the center of town appeared terrified for their lives. Joe’s new group was hesitant to shoot. Joe had to command it again. “I said shoot the bastards!” Finally, after another moment of hesitation, Joe’s group shot at the people he successfully trapped.

  A few minutes of constant gunfire finally ceased to show that two survivors from the rival group remained: A man and a woman. The man was severely hurt with bullets lining his right leg. The woman stood upright with arms in the air to signify her surrender. Joe approached her coolly with his assault rifle slung over his shoulder.

  “What is this?” Joe said laughing.

  “I surrender,” the woman explained with a stern look on her face.

  “Good. Tell me where your friends are hiding out and you get to live and all that other good stuff,” Joe stated without attempting to sound persuasive.

  “I would rather die.” The woman’s expression was unchanging. She seemed to have accepted her fate.

  “Then you die,” Joe said as he lifted his rifle.

  Joe fired a round into her foot. She fell to the ground in pain. He loomed over her and started asking questions. “Are you ready to talk?” “Huh?” “How about now?” She couldn’t hear him. She was in too much pain. She screamed wildly and writhed on the floor. Joe gave an expression of victory.

&nb
sp; “She’s not going to talk,” Joe said to his people. He put his hand out in anticipation of a pistol. A teenage boy stepped forward quickly and put a gun in Joe’s hand. He put it to the girl’s head and pulled the trigger.

  Joe and his group returned to their base for the night. They had accomplished what he set out to do.

  Joe rose to the sound of a knock on the door of the apartment he was staying in the next morning. He heard knocking for almost a full minute before he finally got out of bed to answer the door. To his surprise, on the other side of the door was a masked man in a suit of bulletproof armor. What he wore appeared to be a modified military suit. He spoke to Joe in a deep voice.

  “Murderer. You killed people in the square last night,” the armored man said to Joe.

  “Yeah… so?” Joe replied.

  “Are you not accustomed to having to answer for your crimes?” the man asked courteously.

  “Not really.”

  “This is how it goes then: Since you took a life, I’m going to take yours and turn your body in for a bounty,” the man said monotonously.

  “Or, you tell me your price, I pay it, and you work for me,” Joe said back hastily. “You’re a bounty hunter and I have bounties. We could work together and return this land to what it was.”

  “Ah, yes. America,” the armored man said while seeming to be reminiscing.

  “No, Joe-land. Common mistake,” Joe remarked quickly. “What’s your name, boy?”

  “Jay. Your proposition is… interesting,” the man said contemplating. “What will be in it for me?”

  “You’ll be my executioner. You seem to know your way around a weapon. Together, we’ll capture Marley and kill him,” Joe explained. “After he’s gone, you and I can proceed however you want.”

  “Marley!?” Jay asked almost excitedly. “What was that name? Marley? You know where to find him?”

  “Of course. That little bastard took everything from me,” Joe replied with visible anger in his face.

  “Then let’s get started.”

  Joe and his new friend spent the night thinking of a plan for the next day. They rallied their troops and told them all what their roles would be. Of the fifteen, three had been sent out to hook up loudspeakers throughout the surrounding area in strategic locations. However, Joe wanted them hidden. Joe wanted as few casualties as were possible, so his strategy was to scare the other groups into submission. He began playing the sound of gunshots over the loudspeakers. Soon, he added in the bang of grenades and other explosions. People from the other groups began coming outside to see what the commotion was. Once outside, Joe sprung his teams to capture the curious ones. The confusion continued for three hours until everyone had returned back to Joe’s camp. His people had captured thirty more. Two for every person that had been sent out. Joe was more than pleased. Not a single person from either side had been injured or killed. The prisoners came willingly.

  Once back to base, the prisoners told Joe of the desperation they lived in back at the other groups’ camps. They were low on food and they feared scavenging because Joe’s group or others might attack. Joe assured these people that they were in good hands now and they wouldn’t have to worry again. After another thirty minutes of talking to the prisoners, Jay came to Joe’s door with ten people in handcuffs. Six men and four women. Joe looked in shock at what the armored man had brought him. He gazed for a moment before his mouth formed a menacing smile.

  Joe said to his new friend: “Now, total war commences.”

  Once more, Joe made use of his loudspeakers. He set up five prisoners from varying groups in town square with a loudspeaker overhead. He began saying over the loudspeaker: “I have those which you lost. Come now to claim them so we can talk things over.” This lasted for over two hours with no one coming. It was obvious to Joe that those whom the message was intended for could hear him, but feared coming out to rescue their friends. Finally, a group of seven people appeared. They approached cautiously.

  Joe said to them happily: “Finally. I thought you guys were gonna reject the party invite!”

  A man from the other group replied: “What do you want of us?”

  “A parlay,” Joe said back.

  The man looked at Joe with confusion and remarked: “What are you looking to get out of this?”

  A group of eleven people joined in from the other side suddenly. They also approached with caution.

  “Good, you finally made it!” Joe cried out to them.

  “What is happening here?” a man from the other group asked worriedly.

  “I wanted you all here to hang out, get a beer, and talk about a truce,” Joe said charismatically.

  “It’s about damn time we called a truce!” a woman yelled out.

  They heard Joe out attentively and decided it was best to team up in their efforts against Marley. They would set out with combined supplies back to Joe’s base in a week and regroup. From there, they would strategize a plan and launch a full-scale operation against the revolutionary that brought all of this upon them.