The Uprising (The Julianna Rae Chronicles)

by Aral Bereux

  ‘No doubt,’ he said tightly and tipped the hook. It nodded in the secured bolts grip. Would they hang him from it, or merely secure him? ‘Look, I know you’re upset—’

  Taris replied. ‘Upset?’ he slipped from the chair to stand beside the cell. ‘Why would I be upset? You’re in there and I’m on the verge of winning this forsaken war. You’re reading me all wrong.’

  Bas left the hook rocking above him. ‘Am I, Tarisos?’ his disbelief provoked a grin across his cousin’s face. ‘And how should I be reading this then, if I’m so wrong?’

  ‘You tell me,’ Taris shrugged. ‘Tell me, what happened with your fanatical ways? I’m curious. You were always so supportive of the family. What’s the deal, what changed?’

  ‘I saw the light.’

  Taris laughed. ‘I suppose your brother did too, or is that just a mid-life crisis the man’s going through?’

  A tortured scream echoed from a distant cell. Bas waited for another cry, envisioning the acts of cruelty.

  ‘Sounded like it hurt,’ Taris said. Two soldiers flanked him.

  ‘The interrogation wing after all,’ Bas said and returned a low gaze to the soldiers staring at him. The cry for mercy frantically came as quick as the silence.

  ‘Indeed it is,’ Taris agreed. ‘Remember when it was yours?’

  Bas took a last puff from his cigarette, while Taris sauntered arrogantly to his neighboring cell, and though his cigarette was only half spent, he flicked it through the cell bars, next to his captor’s foot.

  Taris stepped it out deliberately. The ugly black scuff trailed his boot along the white floors reflecting the fluorescents’ above, not stopping until he stood outside the next gated cell.

  ‘How you goin’ ol’ man?’ Taris leaned over to Bastiaan’s cage. ‘Never thought he’d end this way. Always had visions of bigger and better things for the bastard mutt.’

  ‘What’d you do to him?’ Bas asked.

  ‘Not sure what went wrong,’ Taris turned his head towards the cell. ‘Just went all floppy and quiet during the questioning,’ he raised his voice. ‘Playing possum perhaps, Hal? Guild got your tongue?’

  Bas wrapped his large hands around the bars holding him in. It was the only way of seeing out into the line of clean empty cells with matching interiors. Stark, secure, and well-polished.

  Easier to maintain with a fire hose, Bas thought. Harder to escape.

  Bastiaan looked to the corner. The drains were still there in their tinged copper from the previous occupants’ interrogations.

  Did Julianna escape from this wing or was it the regular cells? He looked around again – not a hope. Taris would’ve killed her. She escaped the regular cells held for the norms, the old tunnels. It’s how she got out, he underestimated her.

  ‘What were you saying?’ Taris frowned. ‘Thinking about that girl again?’

  ‘Strong is the force in this one.’ Bas teased. How he missed life’s simple pleasures, like a once highly regarded movie. ‘Visit the Senate of late? We don’t normally acquire abilities like yours without help, unless you’re as talented as Caden or me.’

  ‘Even you’ve had wisdom imparted your way.’ Taris smiled.

  ‘Difference is, we earned it.’

  ‘All I want is Julianna and the safe house location in Sector Three.’ Taris turned to his soldiers filing in behind him. ‘It’s a large place to search, and the girl’s really pissing me off.’

  Bas tightened his hands around the bars. ‘Jealousy was never your better trait. We have the Seer, you don’t.’

  ‘No one owns the Seer, Bastiaan. Haven’t you discovered Julianna’s tendency to suddenly disappear in the heat of the moment?’ Taris stepped back. ‘Someone like her needs capturing in a subtle way, imprisoned emotionally,’ his soldiers stepped forward. ‘She needs to be convinced there is no alternative.’

  Cade, you sneaky little fucker.

  ‘And how’s that theory working for you?’ Bas asked.

  Banging away at her like that, well done son, well done.

  Taris shuffled towards the far wall. ‘With her, not so good. With you...’ his eyes flickered and his soldiers pounced.

  Bas struggled in the grasp of each man systematically latching onto his wrists, heaving them through the bars with their strength. Their walker strength crushed him against the iron rods with their grapple, restraining his thrashing struggle despite his exhaustion. The power of a walker against his attempts to pull free quickly drained what fight he had left.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Bas slammed hard against the bars again.

  ‘Surely Katherine Deveaux mentioned the new methods we employ. We’ve come in leaps since you left.’

  ‘Prick,’ Bas whispered.

  Taris fumbled inside his pocket. ‘Ah. She meant something to you,’ he murmured. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss Bastiaan. She was a beautiful and exquisite specimen of a woman,’ he stepped closer. ‘A gorgeous, seductive woman.’

  Bas raised his eyes beneath his furrowed brow.

  Taris swayed his head. ‘Yeah, the things that woman did with her body, yes indeed. She didn’t suffer for too long, did she?’ he asked. ‘I tried to keep her torment short. Just long enough to see her camp folk again.’

  The soldiers pulled hard and his face pressed between the bars.

  ‘She was a norm though,’ Taris said. ‘So few full-bloods like us are left. We should be doing everything to protect against all this inter-breeding that happens these days.’

  An inoculation pen pushed into Bastiaan’s wrist while the soldiers held their grasp around his arms. Bas cringed.

  ‘It’s why we have those camps. We need to start again – purify our species. It’s the only saving grace for your precious Julianna. She’ll provide an invaluable contribution to the gene pool. ’

  The soldiers released Bas. He grasped the bars with white knuckles as the first wave of pain washed over him.

  ‘What’s your thoughts on the inter-breeding these days?’

  His body trembled. He stared into an empty space with his knees threatening to buckle. His mind raced. His breathing quickened. Taris persuaded his attention, and they met with each other.

  ‘Judging from your expression, old boy, you feel the same way I do.’

  ‘Ethnic cleansing never solved anything.’

  The acid burned beneath his skin. Bas fought the blurry vision and the headache which arrested him; leaning his head between the cold bars.

  ‘Not such a wise ass now.’

  ‘Is this your plan of attack, Taz?’ He clutched his tightening chest. ‘What is this shit?’

  ‘We’ve found a switch in people. We can turn them into whatever it is we want them to become. Fighting machines, traitors,’ Taris watched him falter. ‘We can turn a four year old child into a cold-blooded killing machine in less than forty-eight hours. It’s an interesting process to watch. Thought I might share the experience with you first hand.’

  Bas cupped his hands around his head. The sweat thickened around the line of his thick black hair to his toes. Beads rolled down the sides of his face and crook of his back.

  ‘Lean into it,’ Taris said quietly. ‘It’s easier if you do.’

  His head clouded over. Bas collapsed onto his haunches with his heart pounded into his ears and behind his eyes, the sickening feeling was incessant. He sat back on his trembling hinds, collapsing to his side, into the fetal position. The icy touch of the polished concrete gave his burning body some comfort while his eyes followed Taris.

  ‘See you soon, old friend. I’m sure to find a senior uniform in your size.’

  ‘Cold day in hell, Tarisos.’

  ‘But it is a cold day in hell, Bastiaan.’ Taris crouched on the other side and laughed. ‘It’s freezing in here and you’re right in the thick of it.’

  The guards stood at their posts, watching and whispering between each other, waiting for their Commander to straighten.

  ‘Call me after his first deliri
um,’ Taris ordered.

  The guards saluted and Taris left them to their post. Nothing else was said.

  Bas rested on his side, staring at the freshly painted wall. The low tremor in his body turned into a violent shudder. Wearily he raised his cheek from where it rested and the soldiers readied their rifles until he lowered it down in his surrender. Tomorrow he feared he’d hunt again. For the first time in a long time he prayed to the God he no longer believed in, to keep them safe from his way.

  * * *

  The pain from his wrists woke him. It shot into his arms stretched above his head, taking the entirety of his body weight, while he hung above the ground.

  He fixated on the hook in the ceiling, latching the chain between his cuffs. The outline slowly came into focus as his body swung and the metal bracelets cut deeper into his skin.

  ‘And so it starts,’ he muttered.

  A fresh line of blood flowed down his naked arm, thinning out with its stretch along his torso. His shirt was bunched in the corner, thrown hastily after they’d undressed him. He studied the cell, his wrists, and the bars. The guards watched him from the tier.

  So this is what it is, to be on the receiving end of the Militia.

  His mind searched for a rational and came up with faces of prisoners instead. The countless times he subjected a prisoner to beatings and torture, the countless prisoners that begged him for a quick death.

  Karma, sunshine, karma. New times for a New World Order.

  The fluorescents scowled down at him, bright and harsh against his sore eyes. A metal trolley on wheels stood in the back corner with its contents on the top tray exposing neat rows of half-full vials beside inoculation pens and identification markers, all pointing in his direction. The bottom shelf exchanged quiet contemplation for horror. Their intentions screamed reprogramming. The neatly folded uniform resting on the lower shelf that was in his size, stirred his dread.

  Caden leapt into mind, then Julianna, then Daniel. The information he had on the Rebellion and Isis, the intelligence he possessed would bring their part of the war crashing to its knees.

  He yelled for Taris. The footsteps stopped. Whispering floated into his cell. A soldier showed himself and the rifle he held across his waist.

  ‘He’s awake.’

  ‘Very good,’ Taris said.

  The soldier moved for Taris to enter the cell with his gun in his hand.

  ‘So how are we feeling? Did you rest well? The accommodation to your liking?’

  ‘I couldn’t be freakin better. Still tripping, actually. Some good shit you have there.’

  Taris rammed the body of his gun across the backs of Bastiaan’s knees.

  ‘I want some information,’ he said.

  ‘Bastiaan T. Madison, Rebellion Commander of the Tenth Battalion—’

  Taris struck again, sending a steady flow of blood towards the copper tinged drain.

  ‘Safe house location.’

  Crack! Crack! Crack!

  ‘Fuck me,’ Bas muttered. ‘Fucking prick.’

  ‘The safe house location is?’ Taris asked.

  The chain swung his body under the weight of the assault. Taris wiped the blood onto his pants and circled his prey.

  ‘Okay. Something else. How about you know the identity and location of Isis.’ Taris stopped in front of him.

  Bas grimaced. ‘I’m bored.’

  The soldier extended his rifle to Taris. He took it, lined it up, swinging it over his shoulder for the feel of it as he stopped behind Bas.

  ‘Not talking?’

  Bas braced himself. ‘Nope, not talking.’

  The rifle stock swung into the backs of his knees.

  Whack!

  ‘I want the safe house location, Julianna and Isis.’

  Whack, crunch!

  The blood ran in a steady stream, pouring over the floor to expand a puddle into the drain too small to gulp it down quickly. Bas chanted under his breath.

  Taris laughed. ‘You can’t heal yourself in here. ‘I’ve placed invocations everywhere.’

  ‘Then you’ve rendered yourself powerless, you dumb fuck.’ Bas puffed under the excruciating pain.

  ‘Maybe,’ Taris nodded. ‘Maybe not.’

  Bastiaan’s head lulled forward under the command of his cousin’s gestures. His body lunged with it in mid-air, suspended under a crush of pain before being released. His breath abandoned him. Bas gulped for air.

  ‘The Senate has been very generous with me,’ Taris did another circle. Bas followed him, turning his head, stopping when Taris stopped at the trolley.

  His hands tipped the vials, deliberating them. He lifted the one almost empty and gave it a gentle shake. Bas watched every deliberate move, noting every small gesture, waiting for Taris to pierce his naked waist with the vaccine.

  ‘There isn’t much in the way of binding my abilities. The Senate granted me the courtesy of becoming more powerful than you.’

  The tip of the needle pushed into Bastiaan’s skin. He screamed much the way he’d heard the scream earlier.

  ‘Dun give ‘em the satisfaction, sonny. Yer be strong yer hear?’

  He caught his breath. ‘Hal? Fuck, can’t do this man,’ he screamed again in his torment.

  ‘Safe house location? Last time, then I stop asking.’

  ‘Sector Three.’ The pain was unbearable. He bit down on his tongue until his own blood seeped down his throat.

  ‘The address in S Three? Give me the street, Bastiaan. Give me the street, or we start the induction. You’ll give me the information anyway, when you come out on the other side as Militia.’

  The cuffs sprung open. Everything blurred, everything raced. He crumbled to the ground, useless. His arms and shoulders ached where he lay on the floor, stretching his fingers to clutch something for relief, anything.

  Taris crouched beside him. ‘An act of faith on my part. Tell me now and I’ll let your brother share your fate. Tell me after and you’ll shout the order at Cain’s firing squad. What’s your choice?’

  Bas managed a laugh. The pain was intolerable, and he felt the warm release between his legs flow through his pants. ‘Fuck you, cous.’

  ‘That ‘er boy sonny. Fuck ‘em up the ass an’ give ‘em nothin’. ’

  * * *

  It was the last Bas heard of Hal. In fact, old Hal was never seen again. It was the last familiar voice Bastiaan heard for a while, and once the unconsciousness lulled over him like a soft pillow, none of it really mattered.

  CHAPTER 15

  The Seer’s first vision

  Julianna relaxed in the familiar park. Her legs outstretched until her toes felt the blades of cool grass, and her fingers picked a daisy. She put the flower to her nose and breathed in the full round fragrance, closing her eyes to enjoy the smooth breeze, under the clear skies.

  A perfect day.

  Her eyes opened. The bare feet before her shuffled away. She sat with her attention amused.

  ‘Why for am I here?’ he asked.

  She didn’t have an answer. In fact, she was lost for words. This was her dream, her escape. He shouldn’t be here. She felt herself frowning. Not on a beautiful day like this. No, no frowns allowed.

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked. He held out his hand and helped her to her feet.

  Julianna nodded. ‘Are you?’

  ‘I think so. The pain’s stopped now.’

  ‘Pain?’ she winced at the thought. ‘They hurt you?’

  ‘The interrogation,’ a look of realization crossed his face. He nodded to himself. ‘Yes, the interrogation. I remember now, they made me one of them again. Taris made me one of them.’

  An overbearing, suffocation crept across her. A crushing band closed over her chest. Thunder rolled in the distance, and when she glanced up with Bas, the sky moved angrily around them, leeching a thick darkness from the horizon.

  ‘You need to be careful,’ he stressed in a low tone. ‘Tough times ahead.’


  ‘Okay. Are you coming back to us, back home?’

  Bas sighed and shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. I don’t think they’ll let me. I’m not strong enough. I have my duties now.’

  She smirked at the suggestion, ‘Rubbish,’ she looked down at their hands still holding each other. She gave them a playful swing. ‘You’re strong.’

  He swung her hand playfully back and winked. Then the wink turned cold. His eyes changed. His face twitched. His grasp over her hand was not so friendly.

  ‘I shouldn’t be here, kiddo. It’s not my place,’ he kissed her hand and let it go. ‘Go find Caden. He has your answers.’

  ‘Don’t go,’ she tugged on his arm.

  ‘I have to go before I change. Next time you see me…’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, still holding his arm, pulling him closer and refusing his leave.

  ‘You have to run.’

  His arm broke her grip. He shoved his hands in his pockets and took the path turning around the lake.

  When had the water appeared?

  It didn’t belong in her special place. It was the lake Caden and she had swam in, near the farm house. She wanted to follow.

  ‘Leave the sonny. He’s not himself, girlie. He’s diff’rent now and not for yer touchin’. Yer need to tell Cain.’

  ‘I don’t know who Cain is.’

  ‘Yeah yer do girlie, and Cain knows yer more than yer think. Only he can help now, and he be unhinged with this news. Nothin’ more dangerous than an unhinged watcher.’

  She watched Hal walk away.

  What a frustrating dream.

  CHAPTER 16

  5th May, 2018, 0010 hours.

  The Safe House Level 8, Sector #3

  Julianna breathed easily. The dry clothes Caden had dressed her in, and the warm blanket she slept under on the sofa, steadied her restless sleep. Caden sat beside her. Daniel paced in the general’s office, and the general stared into the maps covering his desk, thumbing a book on war strategy.

  ‘How is she?’

  Caden looked at the monitor hanging behind the desk. They’d hacked the power grid, the comms worked, but only briefly and not without static. The image blurred in and out, distorting Isis while he propped against his desk.