Paradise of Lead Trilogy

by Mackenzie Morris

  As he listens to Commander Alexi discussing with the others how they plan on getting past the security gates and lead walls, Byron looks out over the desert, hoping to see any sign of Isidore. He knows it is false hope causing him to believe that a miracle can come true out here in the wasteland. God doesn't work in a place like this. If he did, the people who are forced to live lives of suffering and hardship would surely be delivered from that torment. Even a trusting and religious man like Isidore has started to question his beliefs. Being in a hell of a place like this will cause anyone to doubt the being they have entrusted with their lives and wellbeing. As Byron finally decides to put his faith to rest, he spots something moving towards them from beyond the heat waves and crumbled walls of collapsed buildings.

  Commander Alexi notices as well and points towards it. "Who is that? They're injured."

  Byron squints in the bright light. Is that . . . no, it can't be. It's a man.

  The man waves at them then collapses in the hot sand.

  Byron runs to him and the others follow. Isidore.

  The Rubble Rebels surround him and Commander Alexi helps him to his feet.

  "Isidore! You're okay." Damien embraces him.

  Isidore smiles. "Well, here I thought I was unlovable."

  "Just be quiet."

  "Are you crying, Damien?" Isidore asks.

  "Maybe." Damien says.

  "Well, as much as I hate to ruin this tender moment, I am bleeding to death." Isidore says as he grabs onto Byron to remain standing. "I blew up my watch and the metal cut my wrists open."

  Byron and Damien help Isidore walk over to the makeshift camp the Rubble Rebels have constructed outside the gates. Alexi calls over some field medics who get to work on Isidore's wounds and in a short few minutes, the regeneration magic has done enough to stop the bleeding.

  "What's the plan?" Isidore asks as the medics bandage his wrists.

  Byron holds up his shotgun. "Kill everything."

  "One word of advice." Alexi says. "The lead walls keep M.A.G.E.s from using their magic to get in. So we need another way in. However, once inside, you can use your magic if you are far enough away from the city walls. Because there aren't any M.A.G.E.s inside Paradise, they didn't prepare for magic being used in the city."

  "How are we getting in?"

  "That's what we have you for." Alexi says to Isidore.

  "What are you expecting me to be able to do?" Isidore asks.

  "Find a way to hack into the gate controls."

  "Are you serious? I have a better idea." Isidore reaches into his shirt and pulls out the golden Inquisition insignia. "I have this, remember? Want to beat me up again, Damien?"

  "Isidore . . ."

  "Unlike you, I don't have to try to be a hero." Isidore places the insignia against the blue glimmering hologram. It flashes green and a voice comes over the speakers.

  "Access Granted. Welcome to Paradise, Isidore Williams."

  Isidore stands in front of the gates as they open and he takes a bow. "I give unto you your Paradise. Now let's fuck this place up."

  "Can a priest say a word like that?" Commander Alexi asks.

  Isidore holds out his arms and looks to the sky. "Today I'm not a priest or a computer. I am a Rubble Rebel. Let's unleash hell in Paradise."

  * * *

  Byron's boots hit the black pavement and he shields his eyes from the sun glinting off of the tall metal and glass buildings. So this is Paradise now. Multicolored neon lights line the sides of buildings and shops for everything a person could want. The citizens in their suits and fancy dresses run around screaming, grabbing for their children and dropping more money and jewelry than all of the citizens of Rubble City could obtain in a lifetime. The vehicles speed by and crash as the drivers are distracted. This place is crazy.

  Paradise guards in their full black technical armor rush into the streets, pushing citizens out of the way. A cloud of green toxic gas spreads out above the tops of the buildings. Byron slips behind a building and looks around for the others. Something moves behind him. Paradise soldiers. Byron drops to his knees and slams his hands into the pavement. A wall of fire flares up and he feels the heat on his skin. This is it. It's all coming down. Even lead can melt and even Paradise can burn. The screams of the citizens fill the air, accompanying the pops of gunfire and hissing of tear gas.

  Byron notices the fallen Paradise soldier and he dives down under the cloud of poison gas. He crawls to the corpse and takes the gasmask from the man's face. He pulls the gas mask over his head and makes his way through the frantic streets. Above the rooftops, he sees the gleaming top of the Presidential Palace. That's where he's going. One way or another, this is ending today. No more experiments, no more M.A.G.E.s, no more ruining lives and killing innocent people. This is for Meygan and Aleesha, for Leena, and for all of those who have suffered under the Inquisition. To hell with this country and their heartless laws. Today they take a stand and make their voices be heard.

  Byron jumps over a dead soldier but cries out when he lands. His right leg buckles under him in a shot of intense pain and he drops to the pavement. The pain is blinding and he struggles to breathe. He pulls off the gas mask and his eyes burn, but he has to stop the searing pain. Reaching down to his leg, he pushes past the burning and his fingers slip inside the cold empty hole. Dark matter. It hadn't been expanding very much and he had tried to ignore it.

  "Byron!" Isidore runs to him.

  When Isidore attempts to help him stand, Byron's weight is too heavy for him to carry him and they both fall to the pavement.

  "I'm too heavy for you."

  "No. I can do it." Isidore says as he stands and tries again.

  "You're half my size." Byron says. "You'll only hurt yourself."

  "I'm not weak!"

  "But you're a little guy. You can't carry me. If you want to help, go get someone who can. Hurry."

  Isidore runs off into the fighting.

  Byron grits his teeth and drags himself towards the edge of the road.

  "There he is." The Rubble Rebels run to him and put their arms around his back. "What happened to your leg?"

  "Dark matter. It's been getting worse." Byron says.

  "Dark matter? How long have you had that?"

  "About four months, I think. It happened when Isidore and I were taken by the Inquisition. Blice McSage did it."

  "You've had it for four months and you haven't lost your leg yet?" One of the medics asks.

  "It's been expanding slowly enough that I thought it would be okay."

  "Dark matter injuries are never okay." The Rubble Rebels place him down on a bench as people scream and run past. "We're probably going to have to amputate before it reaches a vital part of your body."

  Did he hear them right? "Amputate? Are you serious?"

  "For now, we will bandage it tightly and hopefully the increased and constant pressure will prevent it from spreading."

  Before the medics can get the bandages out of their bags, the heavy boots of Paradise soldiers rush up and the group stops. The medics run off, leaving Byron who tries to crawl away. Someone grabs him and stands him to his feet. The soldiers surround him and take him to the middle of the wide street where a crowd of soldiers has gathered. Byron is pushed down to his knees, much to the irritation of the already hurting wound. The gloved hands of the soldier tighten around Byron's arms and he looks around at the people also on their knees. Red shirts. A line of at least fifty Rubble Rebels is formed with soldiers holding their arms. Someone is added to the line at Byron's left. He is both relieved and sickened when he sees. Damien and Isidore. Damien looks at Byron and grins. What is that crazy man up to now? He is doing something, but Byron can't tell what it is until the streetlights begin to flicker ever so softly. Byron tries his hardest not to laugh with anticipation. Son of a bitch.

  Everyone looks up when an inquisitor steps forward and addresses them all. The sound of guns being readied makes Byron jump. The inquisitor raises his han
ds. "Do you have anything to say before we send you to God?"

  "Yes, I do." Byron shouts out above the noise of the fighting in the streets behind them. His muscles tense and he pulls against the hands holding him. "We're not just mindless weapons for you to manipulate. You have taken away everything we have ever held dear. You have ruined countless lives and for what? Ensuring your own power and comfort while others are starving and suffering out in the wasteland? How long are you going to keep this up? Eventually you are going to run out of new subjects to be tested on. We are human beings. We breathe, we think, we bleed just like you. Who gives you the right to enslave people and take their freedom from them? We are born, we live, and we die. And in the end, we will go the same two places that you bastards will. Heaven or hell? Where do you think that murders and slavers go? Your mortal bodies might be nourished behind these lead walls, but your souls are corrupted and filthy. Judgment will fall on your souls, inquisitors. And when it does, the gavel will ring out and every soul you have destroyed and beaten down will rejoice as you are sentenced to an eternity of punishment and torture. Today, us M.A.G.E.s . . . no, us humans take judgment and justice into our own hands. You have engineered us to be weapons. How does it feel to know that you engineered your own demise? Today, the weapons do what they were made to do. Kill."

  Damien screams out as a surge of energy spreads out around them. The sparks fly and the air fills with a pulsating fog of electricity. The streetlights shatter and spray sparks and embers down on the soldiers. While they're distracted, the Rubble Rebels turn on the soldiers holding them captive and begin fighting hand to hand. Some manage to disarm the soldiers and steal their weapons.

  Byron takes Isidore's and Damien's arms so he can walk and they hurry down the street, away from the fighting. He drops down behind a parked car. "I can't go any farther unless you do something to stop this pain. Try tying a tourniquet around it."

  "You could lose your leg if we do that." Damien says as he rolls up the leg of Byron's pants.

  "I might lose it anyway. Just do it so we can get back in the fight."

  Damien tears his shirt and ties it tightly around Byron's leg. "How's that?"

  "Tighter. I need it to go numb. The pain is the issue right now."

  "Are you sure? Don't tell me to do this if you aren't willing to face the medical consequences."

  "Do it, Damien." Byron says. He bites his lip to keep from screaming as Damien cinches down the fabric and ties a knot in it. "Okay. I should be good in a bit. Help me up."

  As they walk, Byron feels his leg starting to go numb and the relief is ecstasy. He is able to walk on his own, with a limp, but on his own. They stop in front of the Presidential Palace while the sirens begin to sound and a black helicopter flies overhead.

  Isidore steps in front of them and blocks the doors to the palace. "I can't let you in this building. You can go anywhere else and destroy anything you want. But you can't touch this building."

  "What are you doing?" Damien asks. "Get out of the way. We are killing everyone in there, except for the president. They are monsters who are ruining lives."

  "Then you have to kill me too. No one gets in this building."

  "As your administrator, I demand that you get out of the way!" Damien screams at him.

  "I said you'll have to kill me."

  Damien runs up and slams Isidore against the wall, grabs the insignia, and slips it into the blue hologram.

  "Welcome, Isidore Williams." The automated female voice calls out as the doors slide open.

  Damien pushes Isidore out of the way and they storm inside the building as people scream and something crashes. The doors lock behind them.

  Byron watches the Rubble Rebels going into every room, their shouts echoing in the large room and against the grand golden staircases. The black velvet curtains drape over the windows and large paintings hang on the walls. Such luxury disgusts him. No one needs this much flashy wealth when there are innocent people fighting for their lives in the wasteland. He swears that before this is over, he will personally see to it that every expensive vase, every stained glass window, and every delicate rug will be smashed, destroyed, and burned. They may not be able to end this greed, but those in charge will never forget that someone took a stand.

  The Rubble Rebels drag the citizens and crying children into the lobby and push them to the floor where they bind their wrists with rope, zip ties, and electrical cords. Some are shaking and weeping while others sit quietly in cold resentment. The resignation is what concerns Byron. Did they know this was coming? None of them tried to fight back, none of them asked questions. They followed orders and did what Damien told them. Maybe they are in shock and too scared to do anything other than what the Rubble Rebels tell them. After all, they have been taught since an early age that people in the wasteland, especially M.A.G.E.s are violent and want nothing more than to kill any and all people who live inside these lead walls.

  Damien steps forward and his electricity courses over his arms. "Where is Blice McSage? I know he's here so don't pretend like you don't know who he is. Someone better start talking or I kill this little girl."

  "Damien!"

  "Shut up, Isidore. This is what we came here to do and no one is going to stand in our way." He puts his hand above the tiny girl's blonde curls.

  A voice comes over a loudspeaker from outside the building. "Surrender now or face the full force of the military of the Unified State."

  Commander Alexi paces across the polished marble floor. "What do we do? Erikson, this was your idea."

  "We still have their citizens hostage. They won't do anything to this building."

  The voice fills the air again. "Release the hostages now or we will forced to take extreme measures."

  Damien grabs a piece of paper from behind the reception desk and a red permanent marker. In large letters he writes GO TO HELL and tapes it to one of the front windows. "That should tell them we mean business."

  A shot rings out and the window shatters. A woman screams as the man kneeling next to her falls over dead in a pool of blood with a single bullet in his head.

  "Snipers." Alexi says. "Get down. Stay away from the windows. They're not above shooting their own citizens so they won't think twice about shooting one of us. Looks like they're damn good shots too."

  "What were you saying about the hostages?" Isidore asks.

  Byron looks on in disbelief as another shot takes out a female hostage. "Apparently I was wrong."

  Everyone drops down and hides up against the walls of the palace.

  "Why are they killing their own people?" Isidore asks.

  "It's all a ploy for power and who can get and maintain the upper hand." Damien says. "If they take away our bargaining chip, we can't barter. With no possibility of deals on the table, we are sitting ducks and they can either pick us off one by one or destroy the entire building."

  Isidore looks worried. "They wouldn't destroy the entire building, right?"

  "If they kill our hostages and there's nothing of value left in here, why wouldn't they? At that point, it's over. The only reason they don't go ahead and blow this place up is because there's still a chance for them to win as long as we have one hostage still alive."

  "What if I gave myself up?"

  "They would still kill us." Damien says. "That wouldn't accomplish anything."

  "What if my owner was able to stop this war?" Isidore asks.

  "Your owner? You don't know who he is."

  Isidore stands and takes off running towards the stairs. "I have an idea."

  38

  "Byron! Damien! Help me!"

  Byron and Damien run off towards Isidore's screaming. They run up the stairs and stop outside the door to a side room. Isidore screams again as some man is shouting at him. They kick in the door and Byron holds up his shotgun.

  Isidore is on the floor and a large Inquisitor is standing over him with his pistol aimed at him.

  Byron knows exactly who this man i
s. Inquisitor Allen. "Let him go."

  "I am getting that microchip and ending this senseless faction infighting. It's absurd. Why should the Inquisition be divided because of a computer?"

  Isidore struggles to get up, but Inquisitor Allen's heavy boots press down on him. He looks at Byron as the tears fill his light blue eyes.

  Byron can't let him down again. No matter what he has to do, Isidore isn't going to suffer again because he isn't willing to take a stand. Besides, Byron has another reason to kill this bastard. He holds up his shotgun and the power surges in his veins. Today, Inquisitor Allen pays for what he's done. "I told you to let Isidore go."

  "You think you can give me orders, M.A.G.E.?"

  "This has nothing to do with him." Byron says. "This fight right now is between you and me. I have more than one reason to splatter this room with your blood."

  "Nice threats from a failed experiment."

  "Failed? Should I show you my magic for you to reevaluate that?"

  Inquisitor Allen grabs Isidore by his hair and pulls him to his feet. He places his pistol against Isidore's head. "You make one move, Erikson. Make one more move and I kill this computer that everyone seems to care so much about. I can always get the microchip from his corpse."

  Damien locks eyes with Isidore and slightly tilts his head to the side. Byron looks in the corner of the room where Damien had motioned to. A space heater.

  Isidore closes his eyes.

  What is he doing?

  The explosion knocks the books and papers from the walls as the carpet catches on fire. Inquisitor Allen is stunned just long enough for Isidore to elbow him in the face and dive down on the floor where Byron and Damien step in front of him. No one is going to let him be hurt again.

  Byron sees his chance and he decides to take it. He lunges forward and puts his hands around Inquisitor Allen's neck. "You killed my wives."