The Sons of Liberty

by James Tow

regain composure, and put up a stance against his. I have my hands on his shoulders and his on mine, as we leaned into each other — using the utmost strength I could muster. Our feet pushed and slid out from under us, but we remained stationary. We leaned further forward until the tops of our foreheads clashed.

  “C’mon Paul, rid this world of evil…kill me,” he grunted.

  “I’m not going to kill you…you deranged bastard,” I grunted back.

  “Then why are you fighting back?!” he said in a rage. He pulled his head back and slammed his forehead against mine. He pulled back again, and so did I. We bashed our heads together several times, and I could feel the warm liquid stream down my face.

  “I just want my brother back,” I said and he pulled my shoulders down—meeting my face with his knee. I stumbled backwards after his knee crunched against my nose. He advanced and threw his entire body into a power punch that landed on my cheek. I quickly recover and come back with an elbow to his nose. He came right back with another punch.

  We continued to pound each other’s faces and bodies to breaking point. We grunted and yelled with every punch, every kick, and every elbow we threw. My muscles ached and my face hurt, but he wasn’t stopping, so neither was I.

  We both threw right punches that met in the middle, but I came around with my left and caught his nose. The last blow took the scarf from his face, and exposed a beaten and bruised Gabriel. He staggered forward and landed a pathetic punch against my chest. I answered back with a weak punch to his gut. He grunted and threw a slow uppercut to my gut. We had no strength left as we continued our pointless and pathetic fighting. All that was left was the grunting as we swung our arms around in a ridiculous fashion. I didn’t want to fight anymore.

  I wrapped my arms tight around his body in a bear hug. He struggled to free himself.

  “This isn’t you Gabriel,” I said. “You’re not like this…you’re not weak.”

  He stopped struggling.

  “I feel for your despair, but you can’t let it consume you. You’re a strong person…it’s why I look up to you. It’s why you’re my hero.” I felt him relax under my grip. “…and it’s why she loved you.”

  I stood there hugging him until he put up no resistance. I was not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

  “You’re right,” he said several seconds later. “I’m sorry…for what I’ve become. And thank you.”

  Relief washed over me. I let him go and we both fell on our backs.

  Slowly, and painfully, we sat upright. We stared at each other—both of us looking through tired eyes.

  Minutes later, I break the silence. “That was kind of gay,” I said jokingly and we both laughed.

  “You look like hell,” he tells me.

  “You’re one to talk—looks like you got trampled on by an elephant,” I said through a smile.

  “I did get trampled on by an elephant you fat bastard,” he said snickering. “Surprised you didn’t try to eat me.”

  “You remember…” I tried to say through laughter. “You remember Christmas my senior year of high school—you got me two pairs of boxing gloves…”

  “Don’t even start. I had you—don’t make up shit,” he retorted.

  “Drawing first blood doesn’t mean you win!” I exclaimed.

  “How about the first three knockdowns? Doesn’t that make me winner?” he asked rhetorically.

  “Now who’s making lies?”

  “You are,” he said and lay back down.

  “You’re ridiculous,” I said.

  Minutes passed as we stared at the sky, and I finally asked, “You ready to get out of here?”

  “Forever and always,” he murmured.

  26. Our Kingdom

  It’s been days since our last event. The bruising on my face was fading, but my body remained stiff. Gabriel recovered much faster than I did—the bastard. He’s going to be in tip-top shape when we go to the North Tent tonight—and I’m going to look like I just got mugged on the way there.

  Tonight is the big showdown of the Freedom Fighters against The Army. I want the Freedom Fighters to win, yet I want to fight The Army of Apocalypse. Is it bad to want them to lose? Then again, I really don’t want them to lose. I just…

  “Watch it! You’re going to over-cook them!” Gabriel barked.

  I put my attention back to the grill, which Hunter let us borrow, and the four blackened slabs of beef sitting on it.

  “Oops,” I said and put the steaks on the plate by my feet. Gabriel loathed the black strip of meat as he picked it up with two fingers.

  “If you wanted it done right, why didn’t you do it?” I replied to his reaction.

  “Moron, you volunteered to cook,” he retorted.

  “Oh yeah,” I laughed. He jumped up from his plastic chair and snatched the thongs from my hand.

  “Say cheese!” a woman called out. We looked to our right and a flash caught us off guard. Anna, with a camera in her hands, laughed at our expression.

  “Priceless,” she said and walked into the tent to visit Alyse.

  “So, who do you think is going to win tonight?” I asked Gabriel as he set four more steaks on the grill.

  “I want the Freedom Fighters to win, but I think The Army will,” he replied.

  “Why’s that?” I asked for his opinion.

  “Freedom Fighters seem crafty, but I don’t expect The Army to fight fair.” He sighed and shook his head.

  “What’s wrong?” I pried.

  “I don’t like this,” he started. “Our presence has been compromised, yet we’re still here. My gut is telling me we should leave.”

  “I think we should stay,” I proposed. “Look at the effect our company has done to those around us,” I started to explain. “People come to the tent to shake our hands—to say thank you. Groups follow us around—just for the sake of being around us.” I thought for a second, “Though, that last part is kind of creepy,” I admitted.

  Gabriel nodded in agreement, “Last night I walked outside to take a leak, and a guy stood behind me—waiting until I was done—so he could shake my hand. It was gratifying, but you could imagine I was pretty weirded-out.”

  “Which hand did you use?” I snickered.

  He looked up in thought and muttered, “Damn.”

  He flipped the steaks, “But you’re right. We have had a positive effect,” he agreed.

  Toni and Chris walked out of the tent, and sat next to the grill beside Gabriel and me. Alyse, who had her arm around her mother, limped toward us. I got up from my chair, and helped Anna guide her to the seat.

  “Thank you,” she said. I grabbed the last two chairs that were positioned against the right side of our tent. I set one next to Anna, and sat down in the other next to Alyse.

  “I’m almost done with the flag,” Alyse stated. For the past couple of days, she’s been making a flag for our faction out of spare clothes—we had plenty of black shirts.

  “So what’re you going to put on it?” Chris asked Alyse.

  “I’m not sure yet,” she replied. “I don’t want to put Omega Unit since these two despise the name,” she said pointing at me and Gabriel. We shrugged.

  “You should think of a name,” Anna pressed.

  “Yeah,” Toni jumped in, “All these other factions will probably change their names to whatever is on that flag.”

  For some unknown reason, I started shuffling through my mind’s library of favorite movies. I laughed to myself when I came across Fight Club.

  “No clichéd movie titles,” Gabriel said looking at me.

  “Get out of my head.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a movie made about you two—like, years down the road,” Chris mused.

  “It could be like that movie, ‘300,’” Keith said—walking toward us.

  “I think they’d have to come up with a different kind of title…I don’t think ‘2’ sounds very cool,” Gabriel said and started handing out steaks.

  “H
ow about, ‘Paul, The Amazing, and His Trusty Psychopathic Sidekick,’” I said with my hands in the air to an invisible billboard. Everybody laughed—Gabriel just stared.

  “I like...‘Gabriel and His Bitch-Ass Brother,’” he said.

  “Yeah, those won’t be Rated-R,” Alyse said sarcastically.

  “I doubt there will even be ratings if movies start coming out,” her mother replied.

  “Instead of watching and reading Johnny Tremain in history classes, it’s going to be The Reed Brothers,” Chris said—sparking inspiration. The hive mind Gabriel and I have seems to be working as we looked at each other—smiling.

  “The Sons of Liberty,” we said at the same time. We paused—nodding with agreement.

  “The Sons of Liberty…I like it,” Alyse said excitedly and struggled to get to her feet—Anna walked over to help.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “I’m going to finish that flag,” she answered. I heard Anna ask her daughter, “Are you going to tell him?”

  I look back, puzzled. Alyse just stares at me, and limps away. I shrugged at Gabriel who, deep in thought, watched me.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he said.

  I watched Chris as he picked at pieces of his steak with his fingers.

  “Not hungry?” I asked him—trying to pry out what’s really on his mind. He just shrugged.

  “You know, if you’re not going to eat it…” I joked. He didn’t flinch. I looked up at Gabriel, who was examining Chris. I wish I was as good at reading people as Gabriel is.

  “We all miss him Chris…he was a good kid,” Gabriel said. Chris sniffled and blinked heavily—trying to prevent tears. Oh. I should have seen that.

  “That was supposed to be his,” he choked—pointing at the lone