“I can never thank you enough, Will. Even though we are parting ways, I sincerely hope you find what you’re looking for.”
She closed her eyes as she felt the tip of the blade against her chest. Aimed at her power core, behind the sternum, he carried out his mission.
***
Halsey enjoyed the ever-present gust of wind the helicopter propeller blades brought. He hadn’t been outside in a decade, though today wasn’t particularly a choice day. The drizzle of the rain was increasing steadily into a shower. Many of the other group members had taken off in the other two choppers, having grown impatient. Jacob, Gabby, and Alex were huddled in the chopper, tending to Alex’s leg as best as they could. Patrick watched Halsey in the rain from the cockpit. Serving as their pilot, he personally couldn’t wait to get out of hell, but he dared not leave Halsey. The man didn’t even bother to wait in the stairwell entrance. He just stood there, soaked in the rain.
“Alex can’t wait all fucking day!!” Gabby yelled in the back.
Patrick knew why she explicitly wanted to leave so badly, but Alex’s well-being was a pressing matter.
As Halsey stood there, feeling no cold, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around sharply, somewhat frightening Patrick. He could see the boy’s startled state in his face but didn’t speak.
“Joe, sorry, but we got wounded on board,” Patrick finally said, “We can’t wait any longer.”
Halsey turned away from him and continued to face the open doorway. For a while there, Patrick wasn’t even sure if he’d heard him.
“Do you even know where you’d head, or would you just simply fly blindly till you were out of fuel?”
Pat opened his mouth to speak, but he realized he had no answer.
“I alone know where we can rendezvous with other regiments, so we wait till I give the command,” he said sternly.
“Yes, Captain.”
At that moment, though, they both heard approaching footsteps. Halsey raised his weapon, the cold gnawing at his fingertips. Patrick followed suit and also drew a firearm. The men pointed at the doorway as the footsteps drew closer. The footsteps seemed to come very slowly, surely as a precaution. Patrick knew Halsey had to suspect something bad was headed their way, but he held steady. A shadow appeared before finally revealing the figure, a limping Unit 21, carrying heavy objects on his shoulders. One arm secured what he carried, and the other clutched the stairwell railing tightly.
Will finally stepped through the doorway, but in order to get any further he had to let go of the railing. As soon as he did, his strength failed him. The cyborg collapsed to the wet ground, bringing the items he carried down with him. Halsey very clearly made out three of them, and he knew instantly each was a corpse. One was wrapped in a blue overcoat, one in a red one, and one in the cyborg’s own beaten and battered black one. Will looked up at Halsey, at the man he’d beaten down for years and brought to the brink of death on countless occasions.
“Please, help me.”
Halsey knelt down to Will’s level, laying his gun down.
“Anything, but if you want to get them on board we’ll need you.”
Halsey put out his hand, Will taking it.
Chapter 28 - Sweet Savour
April 17, 2065- Jefferson National Forest
Gabby stood in the mud, wiping her forehead. She was exhausted, more than ever, but the job had to be done. She and her brother Jacob finished piling the thick, soggy lumps of earth, just as Halsey walked over with a makeshift cross. He stabbed it into the mound and they stepped back to look at their work. The three graves were relatively close, but stones encircled each one. They had also placed rocks on top to deter any passing scavengers. Even though the rain had stopped, droplets still fell on the group due to the waterlogged branches of the pine tree. Little sparrows chirped, and each time one took off into the sky a brief shower ensued.
“Alex is doing as well as he can as of now,” Patrick informed, “but there’s no saving that leg.”
Halsey let out a sigh.
“All right,” he said, “the facility nearest here that I know of, is in Carrollton. We rest up here for a few hours, and we’ll set off at nightfall.”
“You still think they’re out there?” Patrick asked.
“Absolutely. I taught them how to bunker down in the case of my absence. Even if not, I know of many others all over the UNR and even more once you get over the border in the north.”
“But we only have so much fuel.” Jacob said, staring at the mounds of mud and rock.
“There’s a risk any way you cut it. We can’t stay here, obviously. We have hardly any supplies,” Halsey made clear.
They’d passed over a few small towns and suburbs, but Halsey was positive he hadn’t seen any aircraft in pursuit of them. This would be the only time for the next day or two they’d be able to breathe easy, after dusk hit, there would only be uncertainty. With that accepted, he knew he had to say it.
“Listen, after tonight, whether we make it to the base or not, we will most likely be unable to come back to this spot. We in all reality may never be able to find it again. If there’s anything you want to say, I strongly urge that now’s the time.”
He felt a certain level of pity that there was mostly silence. He wasn’t quite sure what to say himself. Of course, he had dozens of questions. Problem was they were far from appropriate in light of this tragedy. Still, they needed to be asked. Exactly when he would pursue these answers, was something he’d need to think hard on.
It was Gabby who finally stepped forth, going down to her knees in the mud.
“I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry I am, Father,” she cried softly, “it’s my fault this happened. Nothing can change that, but I promise to never surrender, Father. Never.”
Jacob joined her on the ground, holding her close. Although he said nothing, his pledge was in his tears. Brother and sister united, I thought I’d die before I saw this again, Patrick admired. The clouds rumbled like an awakening beast and it once more began to drizzle.
The four walked back to the clearing where the chopper and Alex waited. Halsey scanned the area, wondering if the cyborg had lain down permanently among the long grass. He finally spotted him a distance away slouched down by a boulder. He looked dead, so still and silent. The others paid him no mind and boarded the chopper to avoid the precipitation. Halsey watched as Jacob and Gabby checked on the dozing Alex before huddling together for warmth. Patrick sat in the pilot seat, laying his head back.
Halsey walked over to the soldier. Their eyes did not meet. He took note of the two sheathed blades laying in a pile next to him. One was Luis’ and the other, Valerie’s. Her other sword would rest with her for eternity.
“They were buried in accordance with your wishes,” he said to the battered cyborg. He lay so still he could’ve easily been mistaken for a corpse. Halsey wasn’t sure if it was the toll of the wounds or the weight of everything he had being lost so suddenly.
“And we leave at dusk, I’m aware. Is that all?” the cyborg said in reply.
“I can only say that you still have your son. He may be living as a civilian, or as one of us. Not even I know that.”
“Or fighting for them. What then?”
“No one else can decide that but you.”
Halsey walked toward the little warmth of the chopper and left Will in solitude. Will wasn’t sure if his mind could hold on let alone his ravaged body. For some time he stared blankly at the long blades of grass as the wind and rain blew them about. He chose not to let his mind go adrift but instead looked up at the clouds. As he did, the thunder rumbled ever louder. Soon it would pour down on him. How those echoes of thunder and streaks of lightning made him reminisce. Watching planes fly over the city dropping their payloads, the boom of the explosions, and the spectacular sight of the buildings crumbling. The real beauty was that watching from the hillside meant that he could not hear the screams of whoever was being blown to bits or crushed undern
eath rubble. He began to recall, however, the first few days after the weeks of the bomb raids.
***
January 10, 2044 - Nazareth, Israel
The two soldiers carried the elderly man, Will by the ankles, Val by the arms. It took quite a bit of effort, but soon they got to the pit. They hurled the corpse in with a single heave. The body hit the sides of the pit before landing among the immense pile forming at the bottom. The convenience of the air assaults was the supposed softening of the enemy, the additional benefit being that the many craters blown into the asphalt were perfect dumping sites. The catch was that someone still had to rummage around the city for the victims.
Thompson and Bryan arrived with what appeared to be a young woman, but it was hard to tell without the face. Andy walked over with two large canisters of kerosene. Unscrewing the lids, he dumped both down the sides of the crater. The small fires already set in motion down in the pit instantly sprouted up.
The result of multiple fires lit around the circumference of the pit was a humongous flame. Everyone backed away as the pile of well over sixty men and women became engulfed in the very bowels of hell. A monstrous amount of smoke rose along with the flames, bathing the whole street in an orange-yellow glow. The smell was probably the worst part. It was rancid, but they’d been told it’d get better the longer the fires burned.
Sergeant Stone arrived in a Humvee, followed by a large truck. He stepped out, smoking a cigarette and then looked over at the inferno ten blocks or so away. In light of that, he considered putting the cigarette out but chose not to. His squads came over to salute him.
“Not another one, Sarge,” Bryan complained, “we’ll be here all damn night.”
Stone lifted the tarp off the back of the truck, to expose a fresh batch, ready for the makeshift furnace.
“Sanitation is important, soldier,” he said, placing the tarp back on, “would you prefer the whole city be plagued with rats?”
“At this point I could care less about this city,” Thompson commented.
“Right on with that,” added Will, “I’m not the fuckin’ cleanup crew.”
“This load is only about thirty, maybe thirty-five, ladies. Tell you what I’ll give you ten before we continue. Don’t worry, after tonight everyone will be headed to the coup de grace: Jerusalem herself.”
“Amen, dude, A-fucking-men,” Bryan said.
“Well, fuck it I suppose,” Will remarked.
“Take ten ladies,” the Sergeant said before re-entering the Humvee and shutting the door.
The men and women walked some distance away from the pit, sitting down on the sidewalk. Will watched as Bryan and Valerie briefly kissed, assuming now obviously was not the time for affection.
“Just how did I let you talk me into joining up, man?” Will laughed.
Bryan wasn’t too sure what to say.
“I don’t know, dude, I really don’t,” he said with a weak smile.
Val tightened her grip on his hand.
“Come on, boys, the important thing is we endure together.”
“The LORD is my strength and song, and he is become my salvation.”
Everyone turned to see Andy leaning against a crooked light pole in prayer.
“He is my God, and I will prepare him an habitation; my father's God, and I will exalt him.”
“The LORD is a man of war: the LORD is his name, Exodus 15:3,” finished Will.
Andy was amazed. It seemed to catch everyone’s attention. Valerie looked outright thunderstruck.
“Well, look at you. Since when did you get all Dr. King on our asses?” Andy asked.
“That’s the thing about Will,” Bryan answered, “he may be cynical about the Bible, but he’s read it enough times.”
Will shrugged.
“I like to know what I’m talking about before I pass judgment on something,” Will declared simply.
“Well, I got a better one for the occasion anyway,” Bryan said, “Leviticus 17:11. For the life of the flesh is in the blood: and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls: for it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.”
Valerie kissed Bryan on the cheek and Thompson nodded in understanding.
“I still got you,” Will said smugly, “the priest shall burn all on the altar, to be a burnt sacrifice, an offering made by fire, of a sweet savour unto the LORD, Leviticus 1:9.”
Other plumes of smoke were rising all over the city. It was a splendid and calm night of war.
About the Author
Joshua Aaron Landeros, known as Josh preferably, is a debut author in the science fiction genre. He lives in Perris and is a current student of the University of California, Riverside majoring in History and minoring in English. He enjoys coffee, brewery exploration, reading comics, and quoting movies obsessively. Reverence is part of an ongoing series and the sequel will be released early next year.
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End of Knighthood
The sequel End of Knighthood will delve much deeper into the world of the Reverence series. Will has joined up with the Crimson Angels to fight the oppressive United Nation Republic, but how to fight the enemy becomes the next question. Some want to expose the government’s sins, but others want only to execute the tyrants in power. At the same time, Chancellor Venloran and his allies are masterminding a plan to eradicate any chance of a revolution. As more is revealed, each of these soldiers realizes a horrifying revelation: war is upon them. Every blow dealt to the UNR is mere kindling for a fire that will rage endlessly. A sneak peek from End of Knighthood has been provided! Please enjoy, thank you for reading, and prepare for war!
Chapter 1 - Service
August 8, 2050 - Des Moines, Iowa
The tall oaks were marked with the blemishes of age, and yet they still stood twice as tall as the cement walls surrounding them. Fiery-colored leaves littered the neat courtyard as far as one could see. The courtyard was full of these enormous trees, along with a few elegant, smooth-stone benches, that sat atop makeshift hills. The greenery of the space, despite the fading of autumn into winter, was quite scenic and attracted a pair of delicate birds. They hopped along through the branches of a tree as if it were a massive playground, finally settling near the upper canopy. They were soon joined by many others, the twittering of them all forming a chorus. Swirling winds cradled the dry leaves in midair, offering even the departed souls a measure of solace, a final dance.
Under the swaying, crumpled plumes of the autumn trees, two rows of men and women appeared. One row trudged through the grass sluggishly. The other marched in it with purpose. The groups were nearly even in number. The marching group wore all-black crisp uniforms and boots to match. Each also carried in their arms M4 carbine rifles as their beloved children. One child unto each parent, and though the M4s all looked the same, each one had a name and a human face. One person, the gunnery sergeant, marched out in front of this group as its respective head.
The other group wore orange jumpsuits, their wrists bound by metal shackles. Their ankles were secured as well, limiting the amount of movement between each footstep. Whereas the faces of the uniformed group remained steady and staring straight ahead, the shackled group kept their faces turned downward, toward the grass. Likewise their shoulders sagged. Tagging along behind them was another sergeant, his Janice pointed into their backs. For the most part undisturbed, the birds watched as the two rows began to split away from each other, quite like watching a giant Y form along the ground. The formation quickly turned into a V before the parallel lines came face-to-face, the shackled
men and women standing with their backs against the smooth concrete wall, the other group with their backs against the wind, standing at attention.
The sergeant walked in between the lines, a fair amount of breathing room for his wide shoulders. He did not give the unarmed vermin his attention at all, but glared down at his own men and women with an icy stare they’d come to expect. Each plebe’s face was that of chiseled stone, and with their weapons rested upon their shoulders honorably, they appeared as perfect reflections of one another. All of them were incredibly young, without a single scar of battle upon their smooth faces, but the sergeant was pragmatic enough. He was sure they were all good and ready. As he turned to march past them again, he prepared to give them the essentials of what was about to happen.
“Every few months we get a payload of scumbags from our prisons,” he announced, one arm behind his back, “and as upcoming graduates, it is your task today to rid the country of this ration of filth. Do not weep for these men and women. They have all been convicted of murder, every last one of them. Some of them accidentally shot one person, while trying to kill another. Others are here for the cold-blooded slaughter of their spouses or children, sometimes both. We even have, according to my roster, a few serial killers in this line-up. Sorry folks, pleas of insanity are no good here, not in this damned good country.”
He smiled briefly, not to the prisoners, not to his soldiers, but to himself.
“Crime cannot and will not be tolerated at any cost. Their names are not important. The security of our great nation is the vital factor at the end of the day. Now raise your rifles!”
The trainees responded in unison, among them Jacob and Neal. Alongside them were a few fellow cadets Jacob knew closely, Angela, Victor, and Miles. He’d just met them all here, aside from Neal, but they’d become a close-knit family. At this moment, though, they said not one word to each other, but took aim in the silence, focusing on their individual targets. All could hear the chirping of the birds above them. A cool breeze snaked its way between Jacob’s fingers. He found it all quite calming.
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