The Sons of Liberty

by James Tow

God,” the soldier next to me kept whispering to himself. Alyse and I backed away from the captive—his eyes told us to stay out of his way.

  Gabriel got to the soldier, who was now lying flat on his back with his trembling hands up between himself and his predator.

  “Did you call for back-up?” Gabriel inquired calmly, and dropped down to one knee. The soldier just stared at Gabriel, horrified. In one fluid motion, Gabriel brought the blade up and stabbed it through his knee. Still holding the handle, Gabriel twisted the blade. The mercenary screamed louder as Gabriel continued with the bone crunching twist of his blade.

  When he was finished, Gabriel used the blade, in its upright position, as a cane and pulled himself up to his feet. The mercenary’s screams turned to desperate cries for help, as he tried to pull the blade from his leg. Gabriel opened the shotgun and grabbed two shells from his pocket.

  “You’re no use to me,” Gabriel said.

  “No! We didn’t call backup, I swear!” the mercenary screamed.

  “Now you’re lying to me,” Gabriel said calmly as he started to load the shotgun.

  “Ok, ok, we did call back up. But you have at least four hours! I swear!” he cried.

  “Last time you said ‘I swear,’ you lied to me. So why should I listen to you now?” Gabriel said with a smile.

  Then the man started to cry and yell, “He’ll save me. God will save me. Please God!”

  Uh, oh.

  Gabriel pulled the scarf down from his face, and to my surprise he was calm. “We must have different gods,” he said. “Because my God is saying ‘Do it. Kill this bastard. He doesn’t deserve life’—but that’s the beauty of it. There are so many gods to choose from.” Then he dropped the gun to his side and asked himself, “Is that distasteful?” And he started to laugh.

  “Oh God no! Please God,” the man screamed some more—tears streaming down his face. Gabriel’s laughing came to an immediate stop. He pulled the gun to the man’s face and said, “Fuck your god,” and squeezed the trigger.

  I could only stand, and watch—my body was locked. I couldn’t stand the sight of the insanity overruling my brother’s mind and body. It made me sick.

  I started to mindlessly walk toward the front doors, and I realized the crowd within the commons probably couldn’t believe what happened either as they stood motionless. I turned to face the kids of the Omega Unit and said, “I believe your friends outside need help,” and they broke free from their trance and ran outside. Bergstrom, Alyse, and I slowly followed after them.

  18. A State of Mind

  The darkness of the night was beginning to lighten, and still no sign of Apocalypse reinforcements. But that didn’t stop us from getting prepared. Alyse told me that her parents called, and told her about an event being held in Austin, Texas called ‘The Games’ which takes place in four days—she got me wondering when she mentioned it to the soldier earlier. It’s like a lethal Olympics, she kept saying as she described it. It’s hosted by The Army of the Apocalypse, and they’ll be competing. Basically, it’s a chance for others to get a legal shot against The Army, without being sentenced to death. The winning group gets a massive prize money reward, and, according to Alyse’s parents, the General Pollick will be there. Once they heard that, they suggested Gabriel and I check it out. Gabriel jumped on it, and started packing immediately.

  Luckily, his psychotic phase passed, and he was his old self again. Everybody, including me, didn’t want to be around him after the incident. But he’s fine, for now. Sometimes, I wonder if he’s more screwed up than the soldiers themselves.

  Bergstrom, along with the other occupants, already fled the school and divided up among the local neighborhoods. He insisted that Chris and his group should follow us. Gabriel and I were both reluctant to accept the offer for we believed they needed the protection. We felt at fault for them having to leave, but luckily Bergstrom, along with most of the school’s population, thanked us for what we did. You helped us send them a message, is what Bergstrom said. Showing his gratitude, he persisted in the idea that Chris should follow us. Chris and his troops begged to come along as well.

  Eventually we said ‘ok’ under the condition they don’t follow the alias ‘Omega Unit’ again—you don’t want to flaunt a name that will make your enemies laugh, I told them jokingly.

  The only problem with them coming along is transportation. The Apocalypse soldiers came with six Humvees, but only left three, for the others would take some serious repair. We were all packed. Bags of weapons, clothes, and even food—Chris and his ‘unit’ took remains from the school’s cafeteria. He said they got the food from the closest Wal-Mart. They got plenty of useful cargo from there—like laptop computers, first aid, automotive tools, over-the-counter drugs, and the list goes on. For some reason, they found it a necessity to have beer. And lucky for them, nobody gives a damn about a drinking age anymore.

  I was happy that I finally got to change out of the war torn rags I had on earlier. I felt at home in my new blue jeans and white shirt. I’m sure Gabriel felt the same in his new pair of khakis and a black t-shirt. “One hundred percent cotton,” he kept saying with a smile. Chris even got us a pair of Chuck Taylor All-Stars. I got the all white pair. Gabriel wanted high tops, so he got the black mono pair for they were the only high tops Chris got. Either way, we were both comfortable—minus Gabriel being almost completely covered in bandages…again.

  Gabriel, Alyse and I were walking down the street, through the neighborhoods, searching for a car for Gabriel to use during the trip—I already have the Mustang. But I couldn’t focus on the car shopping. I could not stop looking at Alyse. She wore these tight slacks and a tight white shirt which complemented her figure and beauty to its fullest.

  “Oh! There’s another Mercedes!” she said excitedly, pointing at the silver SUV.

  “Ugh. Another Mercedes. I want something a little more…fun,” Gabriel said.

  “Well then, you can take the Mustang, and we’ll take the Mercedes. Right Paul?”

  I started to laugh, “You can take the Mercedes. I’m keeping the Ford,” I told her. She stormed off and grunted, “You boys.”

  I turned to Gabriel, “You know, it’s not that bad of a vehicle. Maybe you should just take that. You really can’t be too picky. Some soldiers may show up any second now,” I told him but he wasn’t listening. He was deep in thought. He slowed in his walk and eventually stopped. He looked up at me with a smile and said, “I got it,” and started limping off down the street. When he got to the next intersection, he took a left and started a pathetic jog down to his unknown destination.

  “Where’s he going?” Alyse grunted.

  “Are you really that upset?” I asked her—trying not to laugh.

  “Whatever,” she mumbled and crossed her arms across her chest.

  We continued to walk, examining the homes on each side of the street. Alyse and I came across a large house within the torn neighborhood. It had a Cadillac CTS and a Chevy Silverado SS in the driveway. I started walking up the driveway, and Alyse asked, “Now where are you going?”

  “Stay there, I’ll be right back,” I told her. The house had a large garage, so I thought something nice might be in it—considering the cars parked outside.

  I grabbed the bottom of the garage door and lifted up. My jaw dropped for behind the door was a black Cadillac CTS-V and a red 2012 Chevrolet Camaro ZL1. Alyse whistled at the Cadillac and said, “She’s a beauty.”

  “I thought I asked you to stay by the street. I was only going to take a peek.” She gave me an evil eye that would make my mom proud. “But you being over here is fine too,” I quickly added.

  “That’s better,” she said and started examining the Cadillac. “Wow, it’s pretty,” she mused and sighed, “But you probably don’t want to take it because it’s nowhere near as fast as your Mustang.”

  “It’s actually very close. You’re looking at one of the most powerful sport sedans,” I replied and she lightened up. “
Well there you go! We can take this since its faster,” she said excitedly.

  “I meant it’s close, as in, the modified Ford can still take it, and besides…it’s American muscle! Why would I want to give it up?” I told her. She brought her hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose all while letting out a massive sigh. But I wasn’t looking at the Cadillac—I was focused on the Camaro.

  “God, that thing is hideous.” she said with disgust.

  “Watch your mouth. This is a ZL1,” I told her smiling.

  “Sounds like an old robot,” she said laughing.

  I opened the driver side door and tugged on the hood latch. I then walked to the front of the car and opened the Camaro’s red hood.

  “You want to talk about fast,” I told Alyse as I admired the modified 6.2 liter motor. “This one will go.”

  “You think Gabriel might like this one?” she asked curiously.

  “Maybe, but he’s not a fan of Chevy cars,” I replied. “I’ll go find the keys just in case.” I was reaching for the door, and then I turned around, “This time, do stay outside, in case Gabriel comes back.”

  “Fine. I should call my parents and let them know what’s going on anyways,” she said and started walking down the driveway.

  I opened the door, and stepped inside the house’s laundry room. Looking around, I couldn’t find any key hooks. I walked through, and to the left was the