by J.P Jackson
*
Taylor sat against the hut wall as the sun worked its way over the horizon. His skull was heavy, sloshing around with fluid every time he turned his head. His eyelids slunk but he kept them open for fear of never waking up again.
It was a cool morning and with a long day ahead, he swiped a finger across the torch and scrolled to the audio log. He placed the torch to his mouth, but words took time to form.
"Doubt this thing works but since I'm probably going to die today, I figured I'd share something with someone.”
Taylor took a long breath, then began. “I've tried to kill myself three times, and now that it's practically guaranteed I've decided that I fancy living a wee while longer, I've just...got too much shit left to do.”
Tears fell from his eyes and he was too caught in the moment to clear them.
"I leave all my assets to my nephews, Cameron and Lucas. There's not much left lads, just an old football jersey and some change under the couch.”
Taylor set the torch on his knees while the growing sun illuminated his grizzled face. “This is the moment when a person reflects on their time and how they spent it.”
He turned his face and clenched his teeth. “I invested so much time into shite that didn't matter. I loved being special, and loved hearing about it from assholes I couldn't care less about. What an idiot, what a waste.”
Taylor rubbed his eyes and turned the wedding ring around on his finger.
"I betrayed my wife because I told myself it was alright, I was special and could do whatever the hell I wanted. The rules didn't apply to me. Did you know Penelope? Shit,” he scoffed, “of course you knew. Anyway, enough of this feeling sorry for myself bullshit. I'm a selfish, arrogant cunt, and I'm off to save the world.”
A horn blared from the temple as rays of crisp morning light broke over the village.
"This is Ham Taylor, over and out.”
The horn was constant and alerted everyone to the time of day. Yellow Jack peeked his head out of the secret hut and hurriedly gestured Taylor over. Priests were already leaving the temple, dressed in immaculate white robes.
Taylor stumbled through the village and the Jackanine held the door open for him. In the dark hut, Jack went over the weapons placed across the bed, including a golden levitation gun.
"These are all the tools you will need for your mission.”
Jack picked up one of ten baubles. “Select good hiding places, Ham Taylor. One is enough to destroy the ship, but if they discover one, they will search for others.” He picked up a thin black disc. “This is the remote detonator.”
Jack parted his beak and swallowed it whole.
"What have you done?” Taylor asked, his skin getting paler by the second.
"The detonator is safe. I have two stomachs, one to store food and another for digestion. You should have ample time to get clear before I detonate the explosives.”
Taylor sat on the edge of the bed, bit his lower lip and tried to focus. “What else do I have?”
Jack picked up a leather satchel with a shoulder strap. “I sewed this for you last night.”
Taylor grinned when Jack placed the satchel on his lap. “You made me a man purse? Does it have my initials on it?”
Jack rolled his eyes. “The satchel is packed with all 10 baubles. You will find a tool in the front pocket, use it to open the hatch on the underside of the ship.”
"Ah,” Taylor declared, “you mean the hatch I have to open while hanging on for dear bloody life?”
"The very same. You will most likely lose your grip and plummet to your death. If so, I will press on, adjusting the plan accordingly.”
"How gallant of you.”
Outside the hut, hundreds of villagers were lined up, single file behind the priests. Jack and Taylor watched from the window, slaves in black and priests in white. Two priests held pots of burning incense and went about blessing the village.
"In a few hours the capstone will be placed on top of the pyramid,” Jack whispered. “The construction will be complete, and the ceremony will begin.”
Yellow Jack left the window and picked up the golden levitation gun. “It is time for our shuttle, Ham Taylor.”
"That's your area, mate. Mine is the hard part.”
Jack threw down the weapon and picked Taylor up by his throat, pinning him against the wall. Taylor held up his hands but Jack held on tight.
"If I destroy that ship,” he snarled, his beak snapping at Taylor's nose; “I kill my kind and I'll never see my home again! Do not speak to me about difficult tasks!”
Taylor nodded an apology and Jack released him.
"Let us go,” he concluded, exiting the hut and leaving Taylor to recover.
The pair maneuvered passed white robed priests and barely clothed slaves. Still catching his breath, Taylor spotted Mesha and Bull, watching him from their hut. They met eyes and Taylor smiled, relieved to see them having no part in the ceremony. He and Jack meanwhile took their place at the end of the line, all of them lambs to the slaughter.
