by Jordan Ervin
“War makes coffee drinkers, chain smokers, and killers of us all,” Judah replied as he took a drink. He rolled his eyes as she stared back at him flatly. “Don’t worry, Mom, I’m not going to smoke.”
Sarah paused, staring at him with probing eyes. Eventually, she sighed and shook her head.
“Well, I’d hate to see you survive what we’ve been through to die of cancer,” Sarah said, lowering the cup to her side. “I didn’t see you come in last night.”
“Alexandra and I needed to walk and clear our minds,” Judah replied before sipping the bitter blackness—grimacing as he wondered how anyone could consume coffee for anything but the caffeine.
“I didn’t see you in your room this morning,” Sarah said softly.
“I slept in Alexandra’s room,” he said, raising the cup and braving the black just to hide his face.
“Please tell me you’re joking,” Sarah replied bluntly.
“We didn’t do anything. I was there to watch over her, nothing more.”
“Fine,” Sarah said with a sigh. “But you can sleep in your own room from now on. We’re safe here.”
“No,” Judah replied quickly, summoning what courage he could find to take a stand against his mother. “I’ll be sleeping in her room from now on.”
“No, you will not,” Sarah said, the beginnings of anger on the tip of her tongue.
“Yes, I will,” Judah countered, trying to match her defiance. “Besides, I don’t think you have a lot of room to speak to me about sleeping alone in my own room.”
Sarah stood there—eyes growing with outrage. Twice her mouth worked as though she were going to protest, but she finally shook her head and took another drink, failing to hide the tears in her eyes. Judah forced himself to keep his gaze on her, though that didn’t stop the wave of guilt from washing over him.
“I’m sorry,” Judah finally said. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s alright,” she cut in, looking up at him. “I…love him, you know. I don’t know if that’s enough to justify…well, I imagine we’ll marry soon. I’m sorry, Judah. I guess…I guess you’re not a kid anymore. You can do whatever the hell you want.”
Judah simply stared back at his mother, the guilt from before shifting into an ocean of remorse. Sarah was his mother. She had lost her husband and the only set of parents she had left. She had stood by helplessly as her daughters were nearly raped by grown men. She had witnessed her son become a ruthless killer. She had given more than he could imagine and still he criticized her for something he knew was none of his business. Judah stood there soundlessly—a young warrior forged by war who just remembered he was still someone’s little boy.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Judah finally said, setting his mug of coffee down. “I had no right to say that. I love you. You’re perfect, and besides, Eric is a good man and I hope to be as brave as him one day.”
“Just be careful, Judah,” Sarah replied. “Promise me you won’t…you’ll do everything to…oh for my sake, just please don’t get her pregnant.”
“I won’t,” Judah replied quietly.
“I’m sorry,” Sarah said, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re right. I have no right to be a hypocrite, but you’re still my boy and your dad’s not here to talk with you about these things.”
“Mom, please,” Judah replied quickly. “It’s—”
“Just listen,” Sarah interrupted, stepping forward. “You can’t bring a baby into this world right now. It will kill her! You can’t make her—”
“Mom, stop!” Judah whispered—a low plea for silence that was familiar to all humiliated sons. “We’re not sleeping together. Besides, she can’t get pregnant.”
“How do you know that, Judah?” Sarah asked. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’m already pregnant.”
Judah turned as Alexandra quietly entered the kitchen. She stood silently, staring at Judah with a small smile. Sarah stood next to Judah, tears glistening in her eyes again as she took a step forward.
“Oh, honey,” Sarah said, stepping forward to embrace Alexandra. “I’m so sorry. Is it…was it….”
“Yes,” Alexandra replied. “Judah found me yesterday and stopped me from doing something…terrible. Something I would have regretted. I want you to know that your son saved me, Mrs. Reinhart. He’s humble, honorable, courageous, and I….” Alexandra paused, glancing over at Judah with a beam on her face. He smiled back, soaking in her beauty. “I’m very grateful for him.”
Grateful, Judah thought. Not the word he was hoping to hear, but close enough. Maybe one day she could bring herself to say it. Maybe one day Alexandra could love him back. Until then, he’d be there for her—ready to stand against any foe.
Victor Castle swayed lightly in the back of the semi-truck as it raced northward toward certain death. His mind was numb and his legs were on the verge of buckling. If not for the lack of room and the support of dozens of other frightened bodies that huddled tightly against one another, he believed he would have likely collapsed into a mindless heap.
An unknown woman pressed tightly against his left side, laid her head on his shoulder, and began to cry. He glanced over irritably as a sudden dampness warmed his leg.
Packed in a truck and shipped off to the slaughter like cattle, he thought. Being pissed on by terrified zombies who know their day to die has finally come.
He glanced up at the screen mounted at the front of the trailer. Adam Reinhart’s face dominated the image. The Patriarchs had deployed over thirteen thousand mindless warriors—a horde that was riding to battle with orders to capture Adam at all costs and raze the outpost to the ground. The man or woman who storms the base and captures him first was to be freed and rewarded with enough riches to make a Saudi Prince drool. Victor, however, didn’t care about monetary wealth and status. His heart desired only one thing: the brutal annihilation of those who had made animals of men.
As he fantasized about the Patriarchs’ violent end, he found himself curiously wanting to help Adam Reinhart. He had heard about the man long before the world dowsed itself in fuel and lit a match. Though every fiber in his being wanted to avoid the tortures that awaited his disobedience, he was willing to die as a sacrificial lamb if it meant saving a man who could destroy those who enslaved him. It was a strange sensation—praying for the victory of those he was about to battle—and he wondered if he might be the first soldier in history to do so.
“First wave hits in five minutes,” a voice whispered through the tiny speakers on the Wasp imbedded next to his ear. “Ready yourselves and remember what awaits cowards. We will be watching.”
And when the voice cut off, what Victor feared most began to swell within his veins.
It started as a low murmur of recognition from someone else in the trailer. As time slowed, the murmur grew into a rising chorus of agonizing cries. Panic saturated Victor’s mind as fire began to lick his skin. The last coherent thought to pass through his skull, before he became fully engulfed in the lake of fire, was a sad doubt that he’d ever be able to brave the inferno for a chance at revenge once he awakened on the battlefield.
Lukas Chambers stared at the wall of monitors with satisfaction as the green cloud rolled over Breton Sound. The mass of Yellow Jackets had approached Sigmund’s navy low against the water. Just before Lukas’ fleet was in range of the Patriarch’s naval blockade, six aerial gunships—hidden by the mobile Graystones in the AWACS—opened fire. Their cannons, missiles, and miniguns chewed through the naval blockade, leaving little more than jagged pyres of sinking steel for the Yellow Jackets to advance over.
Lukas looked over at Jacob, who nodded back with approval.
“As you said,” Jacob began. “It ends today.”
“Are you both so ignorant you truly believe it will end today?”
Lukas glanced over at Maria, his eyes narrowing with frustration. She had said virtually nothing since he first saw her in the hospital. The doctors had managed to repair her woun
ds enough for her to regain her old harmonious voice, though they were told the scarring on her face would never fully heal. Their conversations had been one-sided, Lukas lavishing her with praises and gifts in the hopes to earn her forgiveness. He knew heated conversations were to come in the future, but he hadn’t anticipated they’d begin on the day he finally destroyed the Patriarchs.
“You don’t think we’ll win this battle, my love?” Lukas asked.
“I think your interpretation of the word love is quite skewed, especially if the you believe you love a woman you willfully betrayed.” Maria flashed a quick and sarcastic smile. “Additionally, your war will most certainly not end today. Oh, you may defeat the Patriarchs. You may go on to spread the Imperium to the ends of the earth, circling the globe until your borders mimic a serpent eating its tail. Still, there will always be rebellions and warlords that attempt to carve their destiny out of your kingdom. Will you ignore them when they rise against you?”
“Of course we won’t,” Lukas replied, careful to keep the spite from his lips. “I will crush anyone who tries to blemish the empire we’ve forged.”
“Indeed. Well, promise what you will, oh great and mighty Lukas. I can and will only promise you that your fight doesn’t end today.” Maria picked up her silver purse and stood from her chair as she lowered her head to Lukas. “This is your fate, if that is what you wish to bow before. I suggest you, my father, and your fellow cohorts embrace strife and grow fond of endless warfare. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I might take a long walk.”
“You want to leave now?” Jacob asked.
“I have seen too many battles,” Maria replied. “I believe the art of war should be reserved for those who are better suited for violence.” Maria glanced down at Lukas and paused before turning to leave. Lukas was about to call out after her as a guard opened the door for her, but Jacob rested his hand on his shoulder.
“Let her go,” Jacob said as Maria exited the room. “You have far too much to do on this day to worry over my daughter. I believe the time has come for your announcement.”
Lukas glanced up at Jacob and nodded his head slowly, though Maria’s words continued to nag at him. Will it ever truly end? Lukas wondered. Am I destined to unite the world by sacrificing myself to a life of endless bloodshed? He shook his head, wondering what he could do to change such a fate as he turned to Jacob.
“Alright,” Lukas said. “Seal the room.”
Jacob motioned to the guards at the door and they blocked the exit. Five other guards stepped forward and launched ten small drones that slowly moved over to the fifty attendees sitting near the back. Lukas turned around, trying to compose himself as regally as possible as he faced them in his wheel chair.
“We have all been through a lot over the past few months,” Lukas said, eyeing his highest officials. “The birth of the Imperium required us to pass through fires hotter than I ever anticipated. Through my ignorance and Sigmund’s cunning ways, we nearly lost everything. But I am here to tell you all that I will not let that happen again.”
“What are you doing?” Geoffrey Poteau asked nervously as the drones slowed to a halt, the barrels underneath them aiming at the crowd.
“I intend to do what is necessary to secure our future,” Lukas replied, summoning his strength and determination to display his authority. “I want you all to know that the same algorithm Jacob discovered in Jamie’s technology will grant us the ability to detect any encrypted broadcasts, no matter how well hidden they may be. If any transmission is detected from this room, these drones will locate it and eliminate the source immediately. It is my hope that their guns remain still, though it is not what I expect. For the innocent among you, fear not. Today is our victory and your deliverance! But for the traitorous spiders hoping to remain hidden…I suggest you make your peace with whatever gods you pray to. For after this day, the world will bow to its greatest lord of war.”
Maria Brekor quickly navigated the White House halls, breathing deeply through her silky façade in an effort to calm her nerves as she looked upon her prison for the very last time.
Almost free.
She descended a lengthy set of stairs, passing through the sprawling structure of luxury and power—a home she had come to hate. Maria glanced to her left and then to her right, saying silent goodbyes to the paintings and sculptures she had known for years.
She left the grand corridors behind her and opened an unguarded steel door before approaching three Sovereign Guards in the motorcade garage. The three men had been lounging at their posts, talking casually about the things men love to ponder. When one of them set eyes on her, he quickly leapt to his feet, failing to mask his surprise. The others glanced her way and repeated his actions.
“Forgive us, Ms. Brekor,” the guard began. “We were not expecting you.”
“I am sure,” Maria replied as casually as possible. “I’d like to take a drive.”
The guard stared back at her questioningly, his eyes narrowing. “A drive, my lady?”
“Yes, a drive,” she said, planting her hand on her hip with false irritation. “The sun is out, the weather is fine, and my husband battles the bane of his existence below. A fine day, I must say.”
“Certainly,” the guard replied cordially with a bow. “Let me just—”
“Please, do not bother my husband. I do not think he would want to be interrupted on the day he wins his war.”
The guards glanced at each other with apparent confusion.
“Win, my lady?”
“You do not know?” Maria said, forcing a coy laugh as she inwardly rejoiced at her successful deployment of bait. “So much for transparency. We have attacked New Orleans and will have Sigmund within the hour. Regardless, I care not to stay here and watch another city of men and women perish. I personally give you leave to celebrate with jubilation and merry-making tonight. For now, you will drive me where I please.”
“Certainly,” the guard replied, turning to the man next to him and quickly sending him off to ready for their departure. “Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”
Maria paused, suppressing the urge to weep as her freedom drew closer.
“I have always longed to quietly walk the riverfront at mid-day,” she replied, smiling as she approached the guard and laid her hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps the Potomac Park, since Mr. Rosenbaum closed it to the public for renovations.”
“Excellent choice, my lady,” the guard replied with a smile as the other man returned with four more agents. “If you’ll follow me.”
Maria nodded her head and smiled as they entered the garage. Maria breathed deeply, clutching her purse tightly—dwelling on its hidden contents as she stifled the urge to rejoice. You’re not there yet, she thought as she entered the vehicle. You must be cunning and strong until the end.
Adam failed to hold back a curse as he fidgeted anxiously on the road. He had pleaded with the guard again and again, but every word he said had been met with a stern refusal to listen to anything Adam had to say until a man named Tyler arrived. Adam glanced behind him for the hundredth time, waiting for the moment his eyes were met with the arrival of battle.
Maybe they’re right, Adam thought, shaking his head. Maybe the Patriarchs aren’t coming.
As much as he tried to hope for that outcome, he knew it was unlikely. If Tyler wasn’t there soon, they’d likely be facing an endless mob of fanatics ready to raze Fort Harding to the ground.
The two trucks blocking the right gate rumbled to life and pulled to the side, quickly bringing Adam’s attention back toward the wall. A steel gate rose slowly behind the trucks and out walked a masked man flanked by a dozen armed guards. They approached with their guns up and halted ten feet away from him.
“Are you Tyler?” Adam asked impatiently, not waiting for the other man to speak.
The man at the front nodded his head. “Who are you?”
“My name is Adam Reinhart,” Adam replied as calmly as he could.
Still, he shook with anxiety. He might as well have been pleading with hesitant sailors to board their ship as ravenous Great Whites circled beneath him. “I’ve been held prisoner in Little Rock. We managed to escape and came here to warn you that thousands are coming. They will not stop to negotiate. They will hit this base with everything they have. You need to get every man armed and ready to fight.”
The man paused, his eyes scanning Adam as though he were weighing and measuring a strange dog.
“What’s your real name?” Tyler finally asked.
“Damn it, we don’t have time for games!” Adam shouted, earning him the racking of a shotgun that was trained on his chest. He held up his hands again, muttering a curse as he took a step backward. “Like I said, my name is Adam Reinhart. I’m the congressman who almost stopped Lukas last year. This man is Marc L’ecuyer. He was a French Commando and has fought beside me since the Battle of DC. We need to—”
The man at the front held up a hand, cutting Adam off mid-sentence.
“Adam Reinhart died in DC,” Tyler said. “You may resemble Adam Reinhart, but we both know the truth. Like you said, now’s not the time for games. I’m sorry, but no man pretending to be him is welcome here. I appreciate your…enthusiasm, but we are more than capable of defending ourselves from a few brigands. I suggest you and your French Commando turn around and leave.”
“Please!” Adam shouted. “You have to believe me! I am Adam Reinhart. I was captured by the Patriarchs two weeks ago. I had a chance to join Texas when I escaped, but I heard about this place and the Patriarch’s plan to destroy it. I won’t…no, I can’t abandon the last Americans.”
Tyler looked sideways at his men before lowering his head and mumbling to himself. After a few seconds, Tyler raised his gaze back to Adam—a fierce resolve in his eyes.
“I remember hearing once that Congressman Adam Reinhart had a family,” Tyler said, stepping forward. “Where are they now?”
