by Trevor Zaple
“Oh, lord...” Sandra moaned. “We’re all going to catch it!”
“I don’t know,” Richard admitted. “I know that if he was suspicious before he’ll think he knows everything by now. He won’t be too far wrong, either. Our little plot is the only thing that’s going to keep us from being hung, now”.
“Has there been any word from your friend on the other side?” Tyler asked, and his question coincided with a loud explosion from one of the buildings nearby. A rain of bricks struck the street outside their encampment, followed by what sounded like an entire section of wall. There was a rising commotion from the tents around them; several people were screaming, and there seemed to be a confused barking of orders that contradicted each other. Richard grimaced and then pulled out the tablet. He turned it on, saw that the battery indicator had fallen to about 15%, and saw with worry that no messages had come from Troy yet.
“No,” he replied, trying and failing to keep the defeat out of his voice.
“We’re doomed,” Tyler said, burying his face in his hands. Sandra tapped him on the top of the head, and when he looked up she slapped him hard across the cheek.
“Come off of it,” she exhorted. “We’re not dead yet, and with some luck we won’t be. Now. We have to seriously discuss what to do when Karl comes around here again”.
“When?” Richard asked. Sandra nodded solemnly.
“He’ll be by. He’ll bring soldiers. He has people whipped when they disappoint him. What do you think he’ll do to you?”
Richard laughed, a much shorter, uglier laugh than his half-crazed fit from earlier.
“I’m surprised I’m not already swinging, to tell you the truth,” he replied. Sandra smiled grimly.
“Exactly. Where is your lady-friend?”
“I’m not sure. She’ll come looking here when she finds out I’m missing”.
“If they let her”
Richard felt cold fear stab into him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean they’ll likely keep her locked up as a bargaining chip with you. Give yourself up and she can go free, that sort of thing”
Richard got to his knees and made as though he were about to exit the tent.
“Where the hell are you going?” Sandra demanded. Richard shot her a fierce, desperate look.
“I have to go find her,” he insisted. She shook her head viciously.
“NO!” she yelled. “You’ll only get yourself killed!”
From outside there was another explosion as a mortar shell detonated into the building that had been previously struck. More bricks rained down upon them, and a collection of them smashed into the tent just to the right of theirs. The screams of those caught under them were harsh but mercifully brief. Richard ducked and covered himself with his arm, and when the rain of shattered brickwork ceased he gestured frantically at the other two in the tent.
“We all have to go!” he exclaimed. “They’ll kill us all if we stay here!”
Sandra and Tyler did not waste time arguing. They scrambled out after Richard with an urgency that was only slightly less than his own. Outside was pandemonium. The tent people were milling around in utter chaos, screaming for their lives and trying pathetically to gather up their meagre belongings. Richard wasn’t sure where exactly they were planning on going; it wasn’t as though the freemen were going to let them stay in the old city hall, after all. There were a few in the crowd that were continuing to bark orders, although from what Richard could tell they were absolutely ineffectual at getting any sort of order restored. He checked the tablet as they ran, hoping that Troy would have responded, but there was nothing. The battery indicator had fallen to 12%. He swore loudly as they went, although it was lost in the general uproar that went on around them.
They emerged from the crowd and approached the city hall. As they did so, another barrage arced out of the sky and came crashing down into the roof of the building. There was a deafening explosion, and the roof of the city hall collapsed in around where the mortar shell had struck. The three of them gaped at it, caught by complete surprise.
“Holy mother of god,” Tyler yelled, trying to hear himself over the ringing in his ears. Richard ignored him, and plunged ahead into the doors, intent on one singular purpose.
TEN
The interior of the old city hall smelled like burning wood. The pandemonium on display outside was on full display inside as well; the servants were running down from the second floor and up from the basement. The soldiers stationed inside of the building rushed past Richard on their way out into the square, and many of the servants scrambled out after them. Richard paid them little attention; he could see smoke filling up the second floor and could hear the crackling of fire coming from the top floor.
“Carolyn!” he screamed. “Carolyn!” His voice blended into the general tumult and there was no response. He pushed his was through the escaping throng and continued to scream her name in vain. Moments later Sandra and Tyler appeared beside him, their hands on his arms.
“We need to get out of here!” Tyler screamed, but Richard shook him off. “The building is a target! They’re going to destroy it!”
Richard walked onward, past the line of offices and towards the basement. He walked three steps down and screamed Carolyn’s name several more times. There was no response from below; the area seemed deserted, as though everyone had fled the place already. He swore and went back up to the ground floor. The smell of smoke was already stronger, and there were muffled explosions from outside. He angrily grabbed the tablet out of his shoulder-bag and punched I’M ALMOST OUT OF BATTERY PLEASE UPDATE SOON in. He replaced it in the bag and strode towards the wide, thin-bannistered staircase that lead upstairs. Sandra cut him off and stood in front of him with her arms crossed.
“You can’t go up there,” she said simply. Richard gritted his teeth.
“Get out of the way,” he replied harshly. “I can’t be responsible for what happens if you don’t get out of the way”.
Sandra shook her head. Richard balled his hands into fists, and began tensing his muscles to strike. Sandra raised her eyebrows, daring him to do something. From outside, it sounded as though a building was in the middle of partially collapsing. Richard suddenly cocked his arm back and another deafening explosion rocked the building, sending all three of them to the floor seeking cover. Dust and plaster rained down from the ceiling. There was a loud, splintering crack from the top floor as a roof beam collapsed and brought a part of the roof down with it. Richard leapt to his feet and took the stairs up two at a time, not waiting for the other two to react.
“Carolyn!” he screamed when he made it to the top. The smoke was thick, although it was moving rapidly away to the left and right; Richard realized that most of the windows, having been battered by the elements for over twenty-five years, must have broken following two concussive explosions. It was enough to make him choke, though, and the screaming made his throat even more hoarse.
“Richard!” he heard Carolyn scream, from somewhere on the same floor. He ran toward the direction of her voice, ignoring the hoarse sound of his lungs, all thought streaming out of his mind. He stumbled on a bunched-up piece of carpet and went sprawling onto his face. The air was much clearer on the floor, and he found his breathing easing. There were footsteps in front of him and he looked up. He saw a heavy, expensive pair of boots, and a thick pair of denim jeans. One of the boots reared back and a second later blinding white pain filled his world.
He must have blacked out momentarily, because in his next conscious instant he was being hauled roughly to his feet by his collar. He remained limp, letting his enemy think that he was still unconscious. He cracked his eyes open and saw Karl Tiegert’s mangled face; the man’s nose was badly broken and blood and mucous smeared the lower half of his face. His eyes were wide, and strangely bovine; there was rage aplenty in his bloodshot stare, but there was also a flat detachment, as though the part of him that Richard had known and respected had been crushed
out along with his nose.
“I’ll...fuckin’...I’ll...kill,” Karl was saying, his voice raspy from the dust and smoke. “Teach you to...spent good money on you, thought...fuck...”. The man’s shaking hands circled up around Richard’s throat lightly, and before Karl could begin to squeeze Richard slammed his head forward. The hard bone of his forehead caught Karl square in his broken nose and the man flew backwards with a piercing scream. Blood flew outward from him in an arc, splattering Richard’s face with warm, slimy droplets. He grimaced and fell to a crouch, ready to get into a serious fight if Karl decided to get up. When Karl continued to lie on the floor he straightened and began screaming Carolyn’s name.
She came out of one of the nearby offices, her arms outstretched before her; another man (one of the House Speakers, Richard noted) came lurching out of the office from behind her and grabbed her by the hair. The man’s wide, jowly face was frozen in a rictus of hate and fear; he pulled backwards on her hair and growled something unintelligible. Taken by surprise, Carolyn fell onto her behind and the House Speaker was left standing with a fistful of ripped-out grey hair. He stared at it, confused, and Richard launched himself at the man. His fist connected with the Speaker’s weak chin and the man fell back into the doorframe. To Richard’s surprise, the Speaker recovered quickly and returned the blow, putting a surprisingly heavy and bony fist into Richard’s mouth. Richard stumbled back, his mouth feeling like it was on fire; he thought that a couple of his teeth might have been cracked and at least one had been driven loose. The Speaker was advancing on him with a smug look of triumph on his face, his fist held back to deliver a finishing blow. Richard lowered his head and ran at the man full-tilt, football-style; he caught the man in the solar plexus and they both went flying to the ground. Richard put his hands on the man’s soft belly and hauled himself upward; when he got to his knees he delivered a sharp blow to the middle of the man’s face. The Speaker was breathing in short hitches, looking as though he were trying in vain to catch his breath.
Richard got to his feet and brushed himself off. He put his hand out and helped Carolyn to her feet. There were tears making rivulets in the dust caked on her face, and one of her hands kept going to the back of her head. He soothed her and guided her down the hallway, stepping over Karl’s prone body. When they got to the edge of the stairway Richard heard a shuffling from behind them. When he turned to look he saw that Karl had gotten to his feet and was swaying unsteadily in the middle of the hallway. Richard looked him over for a moment, and then took Carolyn’s hand and helped her down the stairs.
Sandra and Tyler were still waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and Richard felt a surge of love for the both of them. He wondered self-deprecatingly what he had done at some point to earn their loyalty.
“Ok, now we have to get out of here!” Sandra yelled urgently. Richard had to laugh.
“I don’t see any reason why not!” he yelled back. He suddenly felt giddy, and wondered fleetingly if it was the smoke inhalation finally catching up with him. Sandra rolled her eyes and lead the way out of city hall.
“I haven’t heard any explosions in a bit,” Tyler said hopefully. “In at least ten minutes. Maybe they’ve stopped the barrage?”
“I really hope so,” Richard replied distractedly, staring out into the chaotic scene in front of them. People were still running from place to place, although less than there had been. Many people had decided to simply sit on the ground and stare up into the sky, waiting for the end. Smoke and dust filled the air out here as well; the roof of the city hall was on fire in several places and it was collapsing in the center. Many of the buildings directly in front of them were collapsing as well, and the wood had caught on fire there also.
“This is the end,” Tyler muttered. “They’re going to march in and slaughter us all”.
Richard turned around with a sudden white-hot anger and seized the man by the collar.
“We are not going to die!” he screamed. “Do you hear me? Do you understand me? We are all going to get out of here! We are all going to be fine! FINE!”
Tyler blanched away from the volume in his voice but his mournful expression did not change. He shook his head in denial even as Richard continued to clutch on to his lapel.
“No, this is the end,” he insisted, and Richard let go of the man’s collar in disgust. Tyler looked up at him and began to laugh weakly. Richard stared at him, his face furious, but this only made Tyler laugh harder. Eventually Richard’s angry façade cracked and he began laughing as well. Sandra caught the wind and began braying out her deep, booming laugh. Carolyn looked at them all as though they had gone completely mad and began to laugh along, convinced that the time for insanity had finally come.
They fell into each other, arms going around shoulders and waists, laughing the entire time. Richard rested his head on Sandra’s shoulder and felt the deeply familiar weight of Carolyn’s head snuggle into his armpit. Tyler threw his arm around Sandra’s other shoulder and cocked his head back to spew laughter into the smoke-filled, uncaring sky. The people around them, both the sitting and the running, stared at them; the fear and hopelessness on their faces was accentuated by the white veneer of plaster and pulverized brick caking them. Richard shook his head at them, as if to say funny place to end up in, isn’t it?
There were no further explosions; it seemed that Tyler was right about the barrage having finally tapered off. After they finished laughing and wiping at their eyes (smearing the debris around slickly) Richard lead them back to the tents. None of the others seemed to resist or dispute this decision; to all of them, it seemed as good a place to die as any. The stepped around the bodies of both the living and the dead. The living watched them pass placidly, their eyes looking like the victims of shell shock in old world war photographs. The dead did not care, and Richard found himself envying them.
Carolyn’s hand snaked into his and she squeezed. He looked over at her and saw an expression that was nothing but pure, unconditional love. He felt like weeping, but he squeezed her hand back and tried to portray every last ounce of his feelings for her through his eyes. Her smile widened, and his heart skidded onward with an extension of that giddy sense he had felt earlier. Suddenly he felt as though he might be able to die happily.
They arrived at the tents and Richard heard a commotion from the direction that they had come from. There were four soldiers pushing their way through the crowd, trampling over those sitting on the ground. They were calling out his name clearly.
“Richard Adams!” they yelled. “Surrender yourself now and we will let your friends live! This is your final warning!”
Richard looked at the others. Sandra shook her head, and Tyler followed suit a moment later. Richard shrugged and grinned.
“Shall we wait for them here?” he asked, feeling flippant. The others laughed, and nodded emphatically.
As they watched the soldiers cross the square towards them, Richard became aware that there were others arriving and taking up a position around them. After a moment he realized that he knew all of them; they were the other servants that Karl had kept at his arena. The kitchen servants, the cleaners, the gardeners; all of them were forming a protective semi-circle around them. One of them nudged his arm; he turned to look and saw Simon standing beside him, his battered face looking grim and defiant.
“Never thought we’d end up here, eh, Richard?” he said calmly. “I should have taken up with the ones outside after all, I guess”. Richard laughed at this.
“You would be a lot better off, let me tell you,” he replied with a light step in his voice. Simon grinned, and shrugged ruefully.
The soldiers crossed the remaining distance between them and stopped in front of the semi-circle of servants. They looked from one end of the group to the other, and if they were unsettled by having to face such a large group they did not show it. Two of them unholstered battered-looking pistols, and the other two loosened heavy-looking cudgels from their straps. Richard grimaced; a lot o
f people were going to get killed here, and it was largely unnecessary. He felt a heaviness envelop him, and he felt his heart reach a decision before his brain had time to process it into words.
“I have to give myself up,” he said quietly. “They’ll kill everyone if I don’t”.
Carolyn grabbed his hand and looked into his face with blazing eyes.
“No!” she shouted, oblivious to the people who turned their heads to look at her. “You can’t do it! They’ll just kill you and then kill everyone else afterwards!”
“You don’t know that. I don’t know that. And that’s why I have to do it. Because there’s a chance they won’t”.
He stepped forward and ripped his hand away from Carolyn.
“NO!” she screamed, and everyone turned to look at her now. The soldiers stopped as they were about to break into violence, shocked by the sound of her voice. Richard froze. In the silence that descended on the crowd in the wake of Carolyn’s scream, Richard heard a faint ding from within his shoulder-bag. He ripped it open and withdrew the tablet with shaking fingers. The battery indicator was at 6%. He read the message Troy had sent and felt a shaking, nauseous sense of despair.
ALRIGHT BROTHER, SHE’S HERE AND I’M TALKING TO HER, BUT I HAVE BAD NEWS. SHE THINKS IT’S A TRAP TOO, AND SHE SAYS IT’S JUST SAFER TO BULLDOZE OVER EVERYTHING, JUST IN CASE.
Richard fell to his knees and began to weep. In front of him, the soldiers began to swing their cudgels into the crowd, who surged back with only their fists. The first sharp, sickening cracks of pistol fire echoed off of the crumbling, burning buildings around them.
ELEVEN
Sparkling embers and scattered white dust floated down around Richard in a strange half-time. He heard the sounds of struggle and death in front of him, but it seemed as though it was happening across the continent. He crouched until his knees protested from the strain, and clutched at the tablet with white fingertips. In a ludicrous, detached part of his mind, he wondered that the screen didn’t crack under the force of his grip.
