by Lucien Black
“But what if I fail.”
“All leaders fail Jack. It is the mark of a true leader.”
“How will I know…”
“I can answer no more questions for you Jack. You must find the remaining answers on your own.”
“Wait.”
Chapter 48
“Wait,” Jack mumbled under his breath. “Wait, I need your help. Wait!” Jack exclaimed as he sat straight up in bed. Momentarily dazed, Jack shot his head from side to side taking in his surroundings. He was in a small underground alcove. The small stone nook had enough room for a small bed and a chair next to the bed. A young man, no more than fifteen or sixteen Jack gathered, sat in the chair. He skin was pale and he wore tattered clothing. His hair was short but unkempt and he looked like he needed to eat. “Where am I?” Jack said but the young man did not answer. “Hey, where am I?” Jack said again, this time reaching out to touch the man, who jumped with fright and leaned away from Jack’s touch.
“Easy Jack,” a deep voice said to Jack’s right. He looked and saw the colossal form of Percival lean into the room. “Young Marvin is an autistic. He won’t answer you I’m afraid.” Percival reached in, placed his hand on Marvin’s shoulder, and said, “Marvin, our guest needs his rest.”
Marvin rose from the chair and said, “Need a leader.” Then he disappeared down the hall.
“What did he just say?” Jack asked.
“Not sure, something about a leader. Marvin says many things and often times they make little sense. How are you feeling?”
Frustrated Jack thought about pushing the questions but in lieu of the big man’s size and stature, he thought it best not to push too hard. “I’m ok. A bit woozy. How long was I out?”
“Several hours,” Percival said. “You did a lot today my friend. You deserve your rest. My name is Percival and you are among friends.”
“Jack. Jack Ander,” Jack responded.
“Pleasure to meet you Jack,” Percival said as he outstretched his three digit hand. Jack reluctantly accepted. “Your friends will be happy to see that you are safe. They were quite worried about you.”
Jack suddenly remembered the fight with the Protectorate and said, “The battle, I forgot. What happened? How did we get away?”
“Now, now. You have had a rough go of it and need some rest. You are safe inside these walls and your friends are resting. Rest a bit longer and I will gather your friends and send someone to fetch you.”
Jack shook his head and lay down, while Percival eased out of the nook. Jack tried to close his eyes but each time he did, visions of the battlefield and the last few days came rushing back. So much had happened during the last few days. He went from zero to hero and now somehow he had to become a leader. It was too much and Jack grew impatient. He kicked the covers off his body and rose out of bed. He staggered a bit, his head still wobbly. It took a few minutes, but he found his feet and carefully slipped out of the nook and into the Remnant Tunnels.
*
Jack wandered the winding tunnels searching for his friends. As he did, he saw many of the Remnant wandering around, some of them hideously disfigured, others immobile and some that seemed perfectly normal. Those who were able to greeted him with friendly gestures, while others cast him strange glances. He felt welcome and unwelcome at the same time.
After a several minutes of searching, Jack came across a larger nook inside the tunnel and inside, Sara, Sean and the rest of her team were hard at work. One of Sara’s men worked on an archaic looking communication device, while she and Sean spoke closely together. The fourth man spent his time cleaning weapons. Jack stepped inside and said, “Hey.”
Sara smiled brightly and pushed past Sean, ran up to Jack and said, “Jack, you’re ok.”
Jack smiled, put his hand on his head and said, “Head hurts a bit, but otherwise I’m ok. What happened out there?”
“You don’t remember?” Sara asked with shock.
“Not really,” Jack said. “One minute I was standing near you and Carnal. The thing I know I woke up here.”
Sara told Jack the entire story from the moment he grabbed Card to the end of the battle where he collapsed unconscious. She spared no detail, a fact that made Sean Gartner less than happy. “So Percival and his people took us in. Thankfully so, without their help, I think we could have lost you and Hunter.”
“Wow I did all that,” Jack said.
“Yep,” Replied Sara. “You saved us all.”
Jack took a few minutes to take in all of what Sara said. Was it possible that he was the hero of the day? He turned to Sara and asked, “Is he ok,” Jack asked. “Your friend.”
“He was still out the last time I checked,” Sara said. “But he is alive for now.”
“Good,” Jack said. “So what do we do now?”
“Good question,” Carnal said walking into the nook. Percival stepped inside behind him, in his arms the frail Protectorate Tracker called Sight. He stepped to the side and gently placed Sight down on a seat shaped stone. Carnal walked up next to Jack and nodded a hello. Jack returned the gesture. “Well done,” Carnal said.
“Thanks,” Jack said. “I guess.”
“I guess nothing,” Carnal said. “You single handedly saved our asses. That deserves many thanks.”
Jack said nothing, instead held back a blush.
“Where do we stand,” Carnal said.
Sean answered, “We’ve been working on this ancient radio for hours with no luck. Calin’s either not reading us or something worse has happened.”
Sara threw a scowled glance at Sean’s comment. “We’ve been contemplating leaving here and heading to the resistance HQ. We’ve got to let Calin know our mission was a success.”
“That’s dangerous,” Percival said. “The Protectorate is out in record numbers scouring the Wilds. They’ll never find the entrance to this place, but they will damn sure spot us up top.”
“We have to do something,” Sara said. “We can’t stay here forever. The resistance needs us to be back in the fight and Calin needs to know we are ok.”
Suddenly the radio buzzed to life and a voice said, “This is Juan Gallardo is anyone reading this.”
Sara raced to the radio and called into the mic, “This is Sara Scott of the Resistance, Midwest.”
“Good to hear a friendly voice,” Juan said. “Southeast here. Picked up a transmission a few hours ago, but we couldn’t get all of it.”
“What was the message,” Sara said.
“Hold for playback,” Juan said and a few seconds later, the radio buzzed back to life, “Scott…resistance…receiving this message…” the message cut off to the sound of an explosion and people racing in. Then it went silent. “That’s the entire message.”
“Do you know the source of the transmission,” Sara said, her voice trembled.”
“Negative,” Juan said. “We thought it came from you.”
“Not from us directly, but our leader. Was there anything else?” Sara asked.
“Nothing that was the entire message. You need backup?”
“Not at this time, Midwest out.”
Sara set down the mic and walked slowly away from the radio. No one dared to speak until Carl Hunter stepped into the room.
“He’s gone kid,” Hunter said. Sara spun around at the sound of her old friend. Shock overcame her as she saw Hunter, now much older than he was just a few days ago.
The old man limped into the room. He was half-naked from the waist up and the bandages that covered his wounds seeped with blood. He almost fell, but Carnal was close enough to catch him. Sara ran up and put her arms around him. “Easy kid,” Hunter said. “Still a lot of pain.”
Sara leaned back and said, “What happened to you? Are you ok?” His eyes were set in dark circles, his skin slightly more wrinkled and his hair was even sparser. Sara couldn’t imagine how he had grown so old in such a short period of time.
“I’m fine kid, but your brother,” Hunter started.
“Me,” Sight exclaimed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You’re the only one that can tell us what happened there for sure,” Sara said.
“But,” Sight said.
“End of discussion,” Sara said sharply.
“Sara this isn’t smart,” Hunter said but she cut him off.
“Hunter, you need to get your rest,” Sara said. “Percival, can you escort him back to bed.”
“I shall, but then I’ll be joining you on this excursion,” Percival said.
“Me too,” Jack said.
“Fine,” Sara said as she tried to regain composure. “We leave in fifteen.”
Chapter 49
It was early in the morning when Purge and Genocide arrived in Washington DC and pulled into the White House entrance. Zealot, dispatched the night before to ensure everything was ready for the morning press conference, greeted them as Purge stepped from the car, followed by Genocide. “Good Morning , Sir.”
“Zealot,” Purge said as he walked past.
“We are putting the final touches on the displays for the press conference. We should be ready within the hour.
“Good,” Purge said and continued into the main building of the White House. “And Turner?”
“He is nervous, as expected, but he will be ready.”
“I’m leaving this to you, Zealot. We have had enough failure for one day,” Purge said.
“Yes I heard about the Resistance. Bitter shame that Card was unable to complete his mission successfully. Has his team been located?”
Purge said nothing as he entered his private quarters and slammed the doors behind him. Genocide stopped and took position in front of the closed doors.
“So I guess the answer to my question was no,” Zealot said with a slight grin.
Genocide said nothing.
Zealot threw his arms up and said, “Well I guess I’ll let you know when we are ready.”
Genocide again said nothing.
*
Sam Turner sat on the edge of his bed, still dressed in his clothes from the night before, disheveled and distraught. Empty bottles of alcohol littered the room and he suffered from a nasty hangover. He rose from the bed and stumbled to the bathroom. There he splashed cold water on his face and tried his best to wake up from his groggy state. The water did little and standing made him feel worse. Turner took a long look at himself in the mirror and said, “Coward.” Then he straightened his tie and fixed his wrinkled shirt. He completed his work in the bathroom by combing his hair and slapping some aftershave on his face.
He left the bathroom, picked his jacket up from the floor and put it on. Then he walked back to the bed and picked up the picture of his wife, dismantled the frame and took the photo, which he slipped in his jacket pocket. Then he reached down and picked up his gun, which he slipped in the opposite pocket.
Turner walked to the door and looked back at the room. Then he proceeded to open the door and enter the hallway. As he walked down the hall, he saw several Protectorate Agents hard at work redecorating the interior of the White House. He stopped and stared at a new portrait, which hung in place of one of the former Presidents. He shuddered at the face that stared back at him and chocked back a mouth full of bile. Turner looked away and continued back down the hall to the pressroom. Inside, Zealot and a few other senior level Protectorate Agents were setting up the press conference. When spotted, Turner said, “I’m ready.”
“Well good morning, Director Turner,” Zealot said. “This is an historic day for everyone wouldn’t you agree.”
Turner said nothing.
“Come, let’s see if we can’t get you cleaned up a bit,” Zealot said and motioned for two agents to escort Turner behind the curtains. Turner obliged but his insides felt ripped apart.
Chapter 50
It took most of the night to get from the Wilds to the resistance headquarters. The team had to use the cover of darkness and hide more often then they moved. It was early morning when they came upon the abandoned shopping center. From the outside facing North, everything seemed normal. Sara and her team waited for a few minutes outside to be certain there were no Protectorate Agents lying in wait. Then they proceeded to the side entrance.
At the entrance, Sara slid open a small metal panel, which revealed a keypad. She punched in a series of numbers and the lock clicked. Gently, she eased the door open and motioned for Carnal to slip inside.
Stepping forward, Carnal transformed into a small lizard and entered the mall. The team waited outside, careful not to make any noise. The sun broke over the horizon and cast a bright light over them. Sara started to feel uncomfortable, but commanded her team to hold position. After a few minutes, he returned and said, “All seems clear.”
The team entered the mall and progressed down the barren hallways. Sara led the team along until she came to a waterfall courtyard in the center of the mall. Bullets lined the floor and there were holes in some of the remaining fixtures. Percival was first to speak, “There was a battle here.”
Sara said nothing but instead ran away from the team to the location of the Calin’s central command. On her arrival she saw that the metal shutters were down, which made her shudder on the inside. If the shutters were down, that meant Calin had to barricade himself. Dread filled her as she choked back tears. The team ran up beside her, but no one said anything.
“Can we get inside?” Jack asked.
“We have to go around back, there’s no way to open these shutters from the outside,” Sara said.
Percival put his hand on Sara’s shoulder and said, “Let’s go.”
*
The team came up to the rear entrance of the mall, near Calin’s command post. As they approached, everyone noticed the giant gap in the side of the building and the debris from the explosion that littered the ground. Carefully they made their way inside. The room was eerily quiet, the dust from the battle had long settled.
“Calin,” Sara said.
“The place is empty,” Sean said. “How could they have found us?”
Jack helped the blind Tracker into the room through the debris. Sara approached and said, “Can you see anything?”
Sight giggled and said, “That’s an amusing question.” Then suddenly his body tensed and every muscle contracted. The walls of the room lit up with images of the battle. The team huddled close and watched as Calin fended off the Protectorate attack as long as he could. They saw him speak into the communication device and then ultimately wounded. Then, the Defiler walked in and Carnal said, “Not her.”
Sara turned away and ran to the small communication room. She stopped at the door and looked down. Debris littered the room and a trail of blood led to a small pool of red liquid against the far wall. Calin’s body, however, was gone.
*
The team spent the next hour scavenging for any supplies that survived the assault. They were able to gather a few weapons and some food, but most of the equipment worth taking was damaged beyond repair. Sean Gartner worked on some electronic equipment while Percival and Carnal moved cartons outside.
Sara spent the entire time sitting on the floor of the communication room staring at the blood splattered floor and the small pool of her brother’s blood. Tears streamed down her face for most of the hour, but now they dried and her eyes stung from the uncontrollable crying. Jack walked into the communication room and kneeled beside her. “Are you ok?”
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” Sara said. “He was so smart. So sure of himself.”
“Even the best leaders make mistakes,” Jack said.
“He never made mistakes,” Sara said. “Never.”
“What do we do now?” Jack asked.
“I don’t know,” Sara said her eyes fixed on the blood.
Carnal walked up and entered the room, “We
are about ready to head out.”
Jack nodded and said, “Give us a minute.”
Carnal looked at Sara, then back at Jack, and nodded.
“Sara,” Jack said. “We can’t sit here forever. Calin would want us to rebuild. To keep fighting.”
Sara looked at Jack; her eyes welled with tears and said, “How do we keep this up. We don’t have the resources. We don’t have the manpower. We don’t have a leader.”
Jack rose to his feet and said, “I’ll lead you.”
Sara laughed through her sobs and said, “Please. Jack I appreciate your vigor but you said yourself you were nothing more than a coward wherever it was you came from. How can you possibly lead us?”
“I don’t know,” Jack said. “All I know is that someone told me I would be a hero and I saved the day. That same person told me I would be your leader.”
Sara shook her head. “I can’t do this Jack. I can’t…”
“No, but we can do this together,” Jack said.
Just then, Sean Gartner called out and said, “Guys, check this out.”
Jack left the room and walked over to Sean. The others already stood beside Sean. When Jack stepped up, he saw that Sean had a TV monitor working and on the screen, a presidential looking man sat in the oval office.
“Who is he?” Jack asked.
“Sam Turner,” Carnal said. “Former President of the United States and now the Protectorate lapdog.”
Sara walked up slowly and said, “What is it?”
Sean responded, “I don’t know, but it looks like a press conference.”
Chapter 51
Sam Turner sat quietly at his desk, waiting for the word from Zealot to begin the press conference. When ready, Zealot motioned for him to start and Sam began to speak.
“My fellow Americans,” Turner started. “I come to you today to usher in a new…era for the American people. As all of you know, four years ago, we welcomed a new security agency to help manage the ever-changing domestic home front. With the help of the Protectorate, we have advanced our technology, eradicated unwelcome terrorist threats and taken the United States to a new level in security and military development.” Turner paused. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
