Crimson Rain

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Crimson Rain Page 22

by Tex Leiko


  “Oh really? Deadeye Max?”

  “I’m going back to work. I think I’m making progress here, almighty leader of all that is good,” Max said with a smirk.

  He didn’t know if he would live or die. He didn’t know if they would make a change. He wasn’t even sure if they were the good guys in all of this. He knew he wanted to make a change and that Crimson seemed to be someone with a good vision. He knew he didn’t want the others to win out, but he wasn’t sure if he would want to overthrow the government even if he could.

  He just knew he wanted to see this thing through to the end. To hopefully improve some people’s lives, help them. He didn’t want to be remembered; he hoped he never even made it into history books. All he wanted was for his actions to be remembered.

  * * * *

  The door to The Sheik’s Tavern exploded into thousands of tiny splinters. Fire and smoke filled the main hall where hours before, girls were dancing, men were drinking, the bartender was entertaining, and laughter had filled the air. Where only hours before, Zarfa had stumbled in almost dead and caught everyone’s attention.

  When the explosion went off, the women took arms and stormed into the main room to make a defense, along with the bartender and all of the commanders of Legion Nine. Now, smoke and heat from flames filled the room. Faraza were dropping like flies, but they weren’t the only ones losing lives.

  Sarah had seen a well-known member of Legion Nine step into the tavern. She waited for things to die down a little then planned the assault. She had set a detonator on the entrance and commanded all thirty-eight of her men to storm in and take no prisoners the moment the charge blew. They were fulfilling that command. Upon their entry, they managed to kill the bartender and several of the dancers who were fighting back with gauss pistols and minimal cover.

  Once-living bodies were falling to the ground in chaos and horror. Even one of the commanders of Legion Nine was reduced to nothing more than a cold, lifeless object after catching a bullet in the head. Zarfa was enraged and found a plasma katana before making his way into the main hall.

  His body ached and some of his wounds that weren’t quite sealed re-opened, and blood poured down his shoulder from the bite he had sustained from the Ilithid’s beak earlier. By the time he made it into the main hall where all of the gun fighting was going down, most of the smoke had cleared. There were roughly twelve of the Faraza raiders left alive.

  His men were firing back or trying to advance for hand-to-hand. None of the other fighters had the strength, dexterity, agility or grace that Zarfa had. He rushed head on into gunfire. Focusing on the streaks of the bullets, he swung with his sword and vaporized them. He made his way to a table that had been upturned with three raiders taking cover behind it.

  He leapt over the table and assaulted the three. Before his feet even touched the ground, he had cut them all to shreds. Before one of the unfortunate raider’s arms had even hit the ground, he snatched a gauss pistol from it and turned. Taking aim, he shot dead four more raiders. By the time his heroics had ended, his other men managed to clear the other raiders.

  From out in the dark, they heard a single pair of hands clap and a woman’s voice. “Bravo, bravo, dear brother. You did well,” she said. She sounded happy.

  “Sarah?” Zarfa screamed with intense rage as he exited onto the street.

  He saw her standing in a combat suit in the middle of a deserted street, still clapping, staring at him with a steely gaze. He marched over to her and glared at her face to face.

  “Why don’t you flee? We killed your men.”

  “And why do you hesitate to kill me?”

  Zarfa punched his little sister in the face so hard it broke her nose and dropped her to the ground. Without hesitation, he placed his boot on her neck and screamed as blood flowed down her face. “I won’t if you prefer to go quickly.”

  Sarah began to laugh as she used to when they were children. When his job had been to protect her, to keep her safe. Back before she had been cruelly snatched away from his life.

  “I really would rather keep living. I didn’t come here with the intent to die tonight,” she said, still giggling a little and squirming under the pressure of Zarfa’s boot.

  The remaining eight of Legion Nine had surrounded the event in a semi-circle. They were watching the event like it was a high school brawl between two rivals.

  “Why did you do it? Why did you come for me to kill me? Why aren’t you a brainwashed drone like the others? It would make this much easier,” Zarfa said as tears filled his eyes.

  They were streaming down his face and dripping onto Sarah’s. His tears were causing the blood from her nose to be washed away. The dust in the air was clinging to Zarfa’s face and making it look as if two great rivers flowed from his eyes.

  “Because I had to make it look real, because we need to stop Father. That is why. I am sorry about those that died tonight, but I couldn’t be found out.”

  Zarfa stepped back, shocked. He removed his boot from his sister’s throat and bent down on one knee to be beside her face. The rest of the members stepped back; some kept their weapon’s drawn on Sarah.

  “What did you say?” Zarfa asked. He sounded stunned and angered at the same time.

  “We have to stop Father. He wasn’t taken like we thought; he’s in control. He still loves us in his own sick way, which is why he had me taken. You were supposed to be with me, but you were too damn stubborn. They didn’t brainwash me or condition me by his command. I pretended to want to be a part of his cause, to be loyal. I did everything right. At times, I even fooled myself, but it was all for one moment. Either the moment you saved me, or I saved you,” she said with her eyes full of tears.

  She wasn’t crying because of the pain of having her nose broken. She was crying because she had never seen her brother in this much pain. Not the physical sort, but emotional. The kind of pain that ate at one’s very soul and could rend even the strongest man made of iron in two like a wrapper of rice paper. His body was trembling and his eyes went blank at the news of his father still being alive.

  “Mother?”

  “Killed. Father had gotten what he wanted from her…children, strong children, and he had her put to death. He is sick; he is making an army of mutants. You’ve seen them. He plans to not stop at Ilyeion. Ilyeion was just an experiment. He has already moved on to Alexarien. Gathering people as raw materials. He is going to go further, push to the ends of the world. He wants to be in control or to watch it all burn.

  “I know I have acted as a monster. You’ve seen me on raids. I came with a squad under the guise tonight of killing you. We haven’t spoken in years, but ask yourself, do I sound like I am lying to you, brother? Why wouldn’t I flee and save myself after you killed my minions? I sent them in so there would be no witnesses of me changing sides. Take me with you, brother, and I shall lead you to their base.”

  Zarfa stared at her long and hard. He mulled over the things that she said, the tears that she shed, and how pathetic she looked on her back with her nose broken, staring up at him in the light of the run down streetlamps. He was still crying and trying to sort all of his emotions out. He never dreamed he could save his sister. He always thought he had to kill her to free her.

  Is this for real? Is she intact? She isn’t crazy, brainwashed?

  Zarfa lifted his gauss pistol and aimed it at her head.

  “Brother, no! You have to believe me! Brot—”

  A shot fired from his pistol and the loud noise ended her sentence. A bullet struck right near her ear, causing a loud ringing and dust and debris to fly into everyone’s faces.

  “On this day, the Faraza are to think you are dead. Welcome back, sister,” Zarfa said as he extended his hand to help her up.

  She stood and hugged Zarfa tightly, pushing her face into his good shoulder. The blood from her nose soaked his shirt and the blood from his re-opened injury stained her clothing. They held each other for minutes as the others watched. They c
ried and laughed together simultaneously. It was the happiest Zarfa had ever felt. But all moments in life have to end at some point, whether good or bad.

  “One more thing, brother. Ghast is about tonight. He is certainly nearby. He wouldn’t return without me. He has thirty-eight more raiders with him. Highly trained and seeking your head.”

  “So I guess the fight hasn’t ended yet, has it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Sarah, why did you let me hit you? Why didn’t you explain sooner?”

  “I had to know you had the resolve to do what needs to be done.”

  “That is?”

  “Kill Father. You knew him better than I did. You were older when we were orphaned. Over the last couple of years, I had the chance to three times. I hate him; he’s a monster…but I couldn’t do it. I knew you could handle the minions thrown at you, but I could never have killed you either.”

  “I see, don’t worry about it, sis. I’ll take care of any monster that goes bump in the night.”

  “You demonstrated that,” she said with a wry smile, bringing her face to meet his.

  Her eyes were already forming big dark circles from the broken blood vessels in the bridge of her nose. In the morning, she would look like a raccoon. Zarfa would continue to feel regret for having laid her out on the ground like that. But to Sarah, it was a symbol of the complete trust she had in her brother to do what needed to be done.

  “Let’s hunt Ghast down,” Zarfa said, giving his sister one final hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  His body was wracked with pain and it hurt to move. He was feeling woozy once again from the blood loss. But he would not stop until he hunted his final prey of the evening.

  “Zajifa, Sofronio, I’m tired, but I want to see this through. Send out a rally cry. Call the entire Legion together. We will show them what being caught off guard feels like. We will not only kill Ghast; we will crush him into dust.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  A Call to Arms

  “'Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…’ It is a good ideology and a nice concept. Poor Ms. Lazarus would be turning in her grave. These words of an ancient poem spoken on the shores of an ancient civilization many years ago inspired people from all around to flock to a land of hopes, dreams, and promises.

  “The promise of a better life, of better things to come. The promise of new technologies, care, comfort, and a life that many would dream of and envy others for. Only when many landed on the shores of the promised land of freedom, they were sold into slavery.

  “Slavery on the docks, on the rails, and if it wasn’t that, it was a slavery to things. A slavery to existence, a slavery to living up to the dream that everyone around them wanted for them. The times moved on and industry revolutionized. Automobiles were produced and sent out to rove across the countryside.

  “Soon, many of the railways that people lost their lives for to build were dismantled. The hopes and dreams of one generation became something to be destroyed by another. Those hopeful immigrants of every nation went from one form of bondage to another. All of which has been forgotten. It was forgotten a thousand years ago, and never is it brought up now. But if you look hard enough, you can dig up the skeletons of the past anywhere.

  “That mighty nation known as the United States of America continued to grow. It expanded and collapsed upon itself several times. Things became better, faster, easier, and deemed simpler by the early two thousands. By this time, almost nobody in America the Great didn’t have their hands on the newest technologies.

  “Families would go so far as to forego food for big screen monitors to watch decaying, drug-abusing athletes that would soon be dead and forgotten. All without ever having to leave the couch. Indentured servants, the whole nation. Not one of them truly free in the fully ironic, iconic nation dubbed, ‘the land of the free.’ Yes, slavery has never ended.

  “There are always those on top and those being taken advantage of. The trick is to convince the victim that there is no other way and that they deserve this. It worked; they suffered many recessions, depressions, and even a great drop in population due to disease and famine, all brought on by themselves.

  “It meant something back then; it meant pain, misery, failure, heartache. All it means now is numbers on a graph and a blip in a history book. Fast forward to about two-thousand-four-hundred. Here, in the beautiful nation of Alexarien, technology was something one could not live without. The pollution brought on by the generations before had caused the land to be barely habitable.

  “People’s hearts and minds all controlled by microchips and processors. It wasn’t much different than hundreds of years before, except that now, these things were internal. Symbiotic with technology, unable to sustain themselves without it. If a power outage were to ever occur, it was sheer pandemonium. Again, it was panic, death, terror, pain and agony then, but only numbers and statistics now.

  “Go back to the year 2028 when the states decided they didn’t even need human interaction any longer. They felt they could make an artificial intelligence and use it for everything from love dolls to military intelligence. The plan seemed good and they rushed ahead without thinking of any undesired consequences. As we know, in a single night, one rogue AI detonated a nuclear arsenal that had long been talked about being disarmed.

  “In one night, all five billion on that continent were dead. The price paid for such great technology was the Great Extinction. The fallout was so expansive it killed everything from the Pacific Ocean west to the shores of China, Russia, Australia and many islands in between. Plants, animals, people, all dead, all just statistics. Technology ceased to progress for a short while, but then again, we began to build and research along a different path. The path of Biotechnology and Nanobots.

  “The fallout worldwide crumpled governments and destroyed land masses. The ice caps melted, people drowned, nations were torn asunder and in the midst of all the destruction and chaos, there was a lesson to learn. Turn back now, those of you who survive, or face the same doom.

  “And once again, the lesson was ignored. The death, destruction, and decay of the world around us became only statistics. Just numbers and nameless faces. Technology moves ahead and offers answers, offers hope, and people cling to it even if it is false. The polar ice caps were restored, and people cried out: peace, security, freedom, balance. In their ignorant eyes, the world was corrected.

  “I ask now, who of you are content? Who is happy? Who can look at the last two strongholds of civilization and say that this won’t happen to us? We will survive; we will not fail where those before us did?

  “Which of you can proudly say, ‘I am not a slave to anyone?’ Only a handful of people—the same handful that is going to try to remove this broadcast. They will be infuriated by it going on air, but they will be unable to stop it. It is already too late; the code has been embedded into their digital video loops. Shutting me down means shutting themselves off from all that their media has to offer.

  “They won’t do that; Synaptix won’t allow it. As we speak, they are airing ads that will make you want to buy their products, make you want the gifts they have to offer. More slavery! They are using a rudimentary mind control signal to corral the weaker minded in and then sealing it by means of their Psyker Scream nanobots. This is something they’ve kept from the public, and the government that promised full disclosure allowed it to happen.

  “Polyhelix is kidnapping in Ilyeion and raising a mutant army. I am your herald, your messenger, your prophet, your voice of doom. Listen to me and be saved! The hour is coming where you will be drawn into the conflict without choice, so act now while you still have one. Join the Crimson Crusade! All I ask of you is to identify yourself with a small red ‘C’ on your body and wait for the time of chaos to act.

  “We shall topple the corporations that are making your life hell. Once this is over, nobody will be without a home. The government will belong to you for real, not this moc
kery of democracy we have now. You have the power to change the future, to prevent this generation from becoming a statistic that nobody will ever read about.

  “Come with me you tired, you poor, you huddled masses yearning to breathe free. Come with me all of you who are oppressed, loaded down, and toiling for nothing but perhaps your next meal. Come with me all of you who fear that tomorrow you may be purchased for slavery or for death.

  “The road that looks like oblivion is salvation, I say! And the road they tell you is salvation is most certainly our oblivion for all eternity. If you want to truly live, join the cause and I promise you change. Change now, change for the future.

  “If you are hearing this now and are in favor of toppling these false deities of government and technology, then give a battle cry in the streets. Join the Crimson Crusade and be freed.

  “No longer become beguiled by things, by people, by activities, or by empty promises. Give yourself to an idea, an idea that this is larger than you. An idea that the common man can be what changes the course of a world doomed to die from the foolish leaders pushing us ahead. Give yourself to the ideology that we can restore the earth to a time of healing!”

  This was the second video feed of Crimson 3033C.E. This video sparked an idea that nobody could extinguish. It sparked a sort of fervor everyone thought lost. This would go down in history as the true final crusade.

  As she had dubbed it herself, “The Crimson Crusade.” Soon it would be clear she had support. Tattoos, most commonly on the hand, would become ever popular. A small red “C” that showed their allegiance. Every supporter blended in to everyday life. They went about their business doing the same mundane tasks they always had done before. The only difference was they were ready to act when the time came.

  Nobody from child to old woman knew exactly what it was that would be required of them when the time came. They expected another missive and a direction for the coming battle. When asked if they knew what they were fighting for, they all gave the same answer, “To be free.”

 

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