Zav grabbed the megaphone and jumped to the ladder. He climbed up to the roof of the gazebo and looked around. It felt very similar to a presidential inauguration, and the energy in the park spiked as people saw Zav climb to the roof.
He spun around, testing out his footing, and taking everything in. There were people as far as the eye could see. Zav turned on the megaphone and clicked his tongue to hear how loud it would come out.
He frowned, because the noise was quiet. He leaned over the edge and looked down at Marx. “Hey, the megaphone, it’s quiet, can you fix it?”
Marx smiled. “I didn’t know you were ready. Let me turn on the speakers.” Marx disappeared under the gazebo and Zav stood up. He had no idea how the megaphone would connect to the speakers, but his best guess was bluetooth.
But Marx made it work. Zav opened his mouth, and he could hear the pant of his breath echo through the park.
“ALL RISE!” screamed somebody from under the gazebo, and Zav could hear the click of the speakers around the park.
Within seconds, the Star Spangled Banner roared like a mighty lion, lyricless but proud.
Zav raised his arms to cue the crowd, and a few voices began mumbling the words to the anthem. Zav put his hand over his heart and mouthed the words, “Whose broad stripes and bright stars,” and several more people began singing.
Seconds later, a powerful chorus of people sang out, and Zav could see mouths moving all around him. He decided to join and croaked out the rest of the song.
“O’er the land of the free,” they chimed, “and the home of the brave!” the crowd cried out, hands clapped and feet stomped, some people cheered and others yelled.
Zav clapped his hands together and raised the megaphone. “YES!” he yelled, and his voice triumphed over the noise. Fists pumped in the air, and he took it all in.
“This is the sound of Americans uniting! We are all sitting in the dust of a mass extinction. But does that mean we will stutter, falter, fall? No! There is one reason the United States has been, and always will be, the best country in the entire world: we are stronger, we are smarter, and we have the enduring willpower and perseverance to work together through tough times to achieve greatness!”
“My name is Xavier Starr. I graduated college this year with a degree in political science. I planned on becoming a politician, one who could fight for the average person's rights, a leader who all could trust in. I wanted to be something big...but all of that came to a halt when inexperienced politicians engaged our great country in war.
“We are all survivors of this war, however. Which means the future now relies on the very actions we take today. We must fight to rebuild, we must act against our enemies and cooperate with our peers. Every single person in this park has a calling. Now, relying on our primitive instincts, in a scenario like no other, we can find what we were put on this Earth for.”
Zav looked around. The crowd was silent. “Now, we must use our differences, our strengths, to become one. These towns of Fairland and Shelbyville, however small, will have an impact on the United States that no other city will. We can work to retake Indianapolis, we can work to reconnect our cities, rebuild our homes, and return to the former glory we once were.
“We have suffered loss like none before. There have never been casualties so great, so utterly disgusting, as this graveyard we are standing in that we call our homeland. But this cut has been felt around the world. Some look with disappointed eyes, losing hope, but others look at the bottom of the glass and realize that we are still half full, diminished but not depleted, and powerful enough to return.
“I speak of many things, here in this park. And this is not just a speech to tell you that we’re no weak sons of bitches, sorry parents, you probably didn’t want me to say that, but this is a call to arms to call ourselves one people, in this precious state of Indiana, and likewise we will demolish the confederacy and work as one United State, ignoring our interior borders and letting every man and woman do their part in making our America great!
“Now, there is only one thing that is holding us back. We are a tank of energy and strength, and this is merely a chain link fence in our path: there goes a man by the name McConnell.” Zav looked around to see if there was any movement triggered by the name. “This man dares to repeat the history that made us crumble.
“We made the mistake of succumbing to the wickedness of communism, a distasteful form of governing that redistributes the wealth and attempts to eliminate currency. I’m sure you’re all aware of the inefficiency of that, but there is one particular person who is never hurt by communism: the boss.
“A leader is someone who stands on the same ground as his peers and pulls them forward. A communist is only a person who sits on the shoulders of those beneath him and barks orders. McConnell is a man of courage, and he must be if he dares to mess with us, the free people of the United States of America.
“A bully will push a person around. He will assert his dominance. But only a coward will attack his victims when they are already on the ground. McConnell believes that he can take over and rule us like a king over peasants! We must show him that we are not weak, even though we have lost a limb from this nuclear apocalypse...if you may even call it that! Cities still stand, animals still hunt, and people still breathe.
“I ask that we put a fist forward only one more time, to strike against the monster that crawls beneath us like a serpent. He cannot bite our ankles. You will not be deceived by him and we will not collapse under the intimidation he attempts to bestow upon us!”
There was some applause, coming from the Outlaws around the gazebo. Zav gazed outward and focused on the people furthest in the crowd. “Let me put this in perspective.”
Zav licked his lips and raised his chin. “We fought a great battle today, and one that has released the hounds kept in cages by the frightening Knights. We are the Outlaws, and we came into your town of Shelbyville with our biggest guns and trucks for one reason: eliminate the Knights. The Knights were racist, oppressive tyrants that claimed, I presume, this town just after the first nuclear missile hit. All know, without law enforcement and government, there is only anarchy.
“But we are a civilized race, the human race. We know cooperation is forever more powerful than violent competition. And so, we have liberated you, the people, and have brought democracy back from the grave the Knights attempted to bury it in, and we are offering it to you.
“We are all citizens of the Earth. Why fight any more than we need to? That is why we are democratically working together. We, the Outlaws, are offering a new system until the United States government collects itself and life can return to normal. We are going to design and propose a system that will allow us to perform organized tasks, without the oppression of a social elite or a singular leader.
“I restate this as my bottom line: We are stronger than ever. Hard times will prove to create strong men, and strong men WILL,” Zav shouted, “create good times! And never again will we fall down! America will return to the single most powerful country in the history of the world and it all starts with US! GOD BLESS AMERICA!” he yelled, with a voice like the howl of a midnight wolf, the triumph of a gladiator, and the echo of a canyon.
The mob of a thousand people screamed and cheered graciously. There was dancing, jumping, shouting, running, bouncing, shoving, all like a rock concert. Zav felt the power climb from his toes into his fingers, then fill his brain.
He smiled to himself and waved around, looking at every face and making sure every person remembered his. He pointed off into the crowd and winked to several people and raised his fists like a celebrity engulfed by the paparazzi.
Zav continued to spin around and wave, absorbing the energy. His imagination stretched—safety, success, power.
Chapter 8
Zav sat in the living room of “his” new house. It was a vacant home off of Broadway Street, chosen by some of the locals, who were now his neighbors. Zav sighed and rested his feet
on the glass coffee table in front of him.
He inspected the room, finally taking the time to observe his surroundings. The room had birchwood walls, thick white carpet, and fluffy white furniture with sunken cushions. There was the coffee table in the middle, with a small holographic projector aimed towards the wall. The house, however, did not have power, and was lit by a kerosene lantern.
The orange glow of the lantern offered enough light for the people in the room to see each other, but it was nothing compared to the light of day.
“Now, lads, you’re staying in this house, ironically white, so I’ve appropriated the term White House, because we’re all technically the leaders and, you get the picture,” Zav boasted, and looked around at their faces.
Zav had chosen Ethan and Marx as his partners because he thought their opposite political views would be useful in the long run: a well-balanced team of lawmakers would be necessary for keeping things equal. And, of course, Zav was right in the middle.
Just after his speech, a short man with blond hair had approached Zav and introduced himself as Christopher. They found common ground with their hatred for McConnell. Zav realized he could use someone he shared a common enemy with.
“Ah, yes, but I’d like to remind you that nobody is leader, because we are, as you put it, all socially equally,” Marx responded.
“I’m well aware of that. But somebody is going to have to decide what we do next. Don’t be such a Debbie Downer! You’re in a position of power. Feel good about yourself,” Zav chimed, and swung his feet off the table. He stood up and walked around the corner to the kitchen, where he struck a match and lit another lantern.
There were donated water bottles on the counter, and Zav stabbed his finger through the plastic wrap and tore it off. He twisted the cap off of an hourglass-shaped bottle and drank with delight.
“I can hear you chugging from in here! We don’t know how long we’re going to need that water, so drink conservatively,” Ethan hollered, but Zav rolled his eyes and finished off the bottle.
“Listen, I’ve been fucked over a little more than I’d like to, so I’m going to make sure I can recover. I’m sure we can get extra water at the Great Lakes.”
“Great Lakes? What makes you think we can just drive to...what’s the nearest lake?” mumbled Ethan.
“Michigan,” whispered Christopher.
“Just drive to Lake Michigan? I’m so confused what you mean by that,” Ethan continued.
Zav returned to the living room and put one foot on the table, placing his elbow on his knee, and resting his chin on his fist. “Okay. We rebuild Shelbyville. We elect a council. We move north to Indianapolis, maybe, or better yet, Chicago. We have drinking water then, and I don’t think Chicago was hit during the attack.”
Ethan shook his head. “I bet it was. All of that water is going to be contaminated. Unless we can find a way to purify the water, which I don’t think is even possible, you’re going to be dying of radiation poisoning.”
Zav stared at the wall, imitating the Thinker. “We’ll worry about that later. Tomorrow, we’re going back to Fairland to cut McConnell into a thousand little salami slices before—oh, Jesus. You all saw that little girl, right?”
Ethan nodded. “You don’t suppose…”
“That sick fuck. I think we’re going to have to act now,” Zav barked, and stood in an aggressive stance.
“Oh no, guys, let’s not fight. Not tonight. I worked with McConnell and that’s not something he would do,” Christopher chipped in, cowering in his sofa seat.
“We don’t have to go. But we can organize a troop to head over. It’s a simple night operation. Assassinate, quick and clean. He doesn’t have anybody protecting him either. It’s a short drive, too.”
Marx leaned back and and stroked his chin. “Einen Mordanschlag verüben! Very interesting. I vote yes.”
“Oh now, we’re not turning this into a vote,” Ethan protested, and gave Marx a shove.
“I promised democracy. We are practicing it. I vote yes. Christopher, you’re our tie breaker or maker,” Zav said to the group.
Christopher crossed his legs and brushed his hair with his hand. “Sorry, I don’t think we should do it. I’m sure the girl is fine.”
Zav and Marx looked at each other. “Well, here’s the thing. The defensive underclass can easily be trumped. That’s the great thing about us tough guys, we win the tie,” Zav chuckled, and Ethan shot to his feet.
“No! Zav, I don’t know what has gotten into you, but you’re making this whatever you want to do. I understand that you’re mad about what McConnell did to you, but this was a fair vote.”
Zav paced around the living room. “It was a tie. And the strong win the tiebreaker. With an even vote, we cannot do anything, which essentially means you two win. And what can you two do to stop it?”
Ethan stared at Zav and cocked his head. “All we’re saying is to wait until dawn, Zav. Your argument is completely immature. Most people are asleep at this time, away. Nothing is prepared. Let it go, Zav,” Ethan ordered, stepping towards Zav.
“Fine! We’ll all sleep now. But I want everyone awake in the morning so we can gather the supplies to arm a squad and send them off. Christopher, I want you to think about...hm, four people? Yes, let’s say four, who we can send after McConnell. Goodnight,” Zav said, and walked up the steps that were a few paces in front of the living room.
Zav trotted up the steps, only stepping on every other one, and swung himself around at the top using the fancy glass railing.
He found a small, L-shaped hallway with two doors on the long stretch and one door on the shorter part. Zav opened the first door and peered inside.
It was a child’s room, with dulling lime green walls. There was a short bed with white sheets and a white pillow shoved in the far left corner. There was an oak desk in the other top corner, with one of the more recent models of the holographic laptops that had swept the market. Zav closed the door and moved on.
The next room was just a bathroom, with a bathtub made of glass and a sink crafted from marble. Zav stepped in and inspected himself in the octagon-shaped mirror.
Zav’s eyes locked with Xavier Starr’s eyes. The only light came from the window to his left, which offered minimal moonlight. But he could still see himself clearly: his figure had not changed much physically, aside from the damage he’d suffered. A week’s worth of time from the beginning of the war weighed the heaviest toll upon him, invisible and internal, yet devastating.
His short black hair was beginning to curl at the ends, his eyes had dark bags under them, his face was scraped and bruised from the chaos. His suit coat remained intact, so he slid it off and hung it on the towel rack in the corner of the bathroom. He unclipped his tie and dropped it on the floor.
He pulled his stained white t-shirt over his head and gazed upon his body. His chest had cuts on it and his hair was matted against his skin with sweat. He was relatively slim, but he had no visible abs. He drummed his fingers against his stomach and breathed, watching himself become larger and smaller with every breath.
A small rumble came from the window and Zav jumped. He leaned over and glanced up at the sky, looking for clouds. A thick one crawled across the moon, and the natural light disappeared. There was a strike of lightning in the distance, and the boom of thunder.
One small droplet of water hit the window, and then another. Soon, there was a steady shower that cloaked the outdoors.
Zav glanced at himself in the mirror once more before going to the third room. He swung open the door, revealing a bedroom.
The bed had to be California King size, because it took up almost the entire room. A rush of excitement came over Zav and he jumped onto the bed, burying his face in the layers of blankets. He sank into the foam mattress and spread out his limbs. Within seconds, he was relaxed, and drifted asleep.
A crack of thunder shook the house and Zav woke up. He rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes with his fists, groanin
g and sitting up. He turned his body to the window and stumbled himself off the bed. He grabbed the drapes and pulled them aside, checking on the storm. It was dawn, but the thick clouds remained, blocking the sun and its light.
He dragged his feet across the carpet and pulled open the door, moaning with every aching step. His legs carried him down the twisted stairs and to the living room, where one couch was unfolded, a mattress was sprawled on the floor, and Christopher was snoring in the chair in the corner.
“RISE!” Zav yelled, “and shine, ladies,” he smiled to himself. Christopher bolted upright and fell out of his seat, landing on the mattress. Gravity did the rest: Ethan was bounced off the side and bumped into the table, making a loud clink! that woke up Marx.
“Guten morgen,” said Marx, rolling off the couch.
Zav stretched out his arms and cracked his fingers one by one. “I’m sure we could all use coffee, but the severity of our work should wake us up. Right, Christopher?”
Christopher squinted and pointed at Zav. “Stop treating us like children.” He lowered his finger and brushed his chin. “Find some nice clothes and I’ll take us to the Outlaws.”
Ethan pushed past Zav to the kitchen and banged around on the dishes, probably a coffee pot, Zav guessed.
“Are the Outlaws staying nearby?” asked Marx.
“They fortified the elementary school and stayed there overnight,” responded Ethan from the kitchen.
Zav swung his arms awkwardly and walked back upstairs. He waded to the bathroom like his legs were trudging through a thick pool of caramel. He stared himself down in the mirror and thought about where to start. Zav hummed to himself as he fixed his hair with a comb he found in the first drawer under the sink, sang a small song as he patched up his wounds, and danced out the door.
“Let’s-a go, lads,” Zav called out as he trotted down the stairs, and was greeted by the other three, who had done little to clean themselves up.
“Okay, game plan: go to the school, find our toughest guys and make sure they are on our side, and send them off. This should be easy,” spoke Ethan, fixing his ponytail.
Fall, Rise, Repeat Page 8
