The Last Days_Conclude [Book 3 of 3]

by Chris Ayala

  Swinging like a mid-air pendulum, the guards bounced around. The guard in the passenger's seat was crunched near the windshield, unconscious, with blood pouring from his nose like a leak in a garden hose. Suddenly the driver door swung open. Marcel reached his hand out, but was too late…the driver Brad screamed as he fell out of the vehicle. Trying to concentrate, control the wind to save them, made the situation worse. The limousine swayed faster. With no time to even grieve the loss of a guard, Marcel had to compose himself to dominate this chaos.

  One of the guards fired at the back window, shattering the glass, and showing Gerard's struggle to control this situation too. All that resentment returned to Marcel when he saw his brother-in-law. Grabbing tightly to the seats, he hoisted himself toward the broken back window.

  The wind calmed. Marcel could see darkness envelope him, demanding cooperation of the elements. He stared Gerard in the face.

  His brother-in-law sighed, "Okay. I get it. You're probably a littttlllle angry with me."

  Marcel thrusted his hand palm and wind shoved the chopper backwards. Gerard spun in circles, clasping the cord. Unbeknownst to Marcel, the vehicle hit the side of a skyscraper and spinning wheels cracked the windows of the building. Shattered glass flew in his face. Instinctively, he covered his face and lost his grip. He fell backwards down the inside of the limousine and banged his head against the side. Spinning like the wheels outside, his head wouldn't stop the sensation of vertigo.

  The wind outside returned to normal.

  Wiping blood from his chin, Marcel regained consciousness and began another ascent.

  "No!" Gerard screamed outside, "I'm not doing it! That's not the plan!"

  Presuming he was talking into some earpiece, Marcel ignored the conversation and hoisted over the backseat. This time, he'd conjure enough wind to blow Gerard to the next city. He lifted his hand up. Darkness grew.

  Gerard released a pin in the hook.

  The limousine fell.

  Marcel bounced around, smashing into every window and door handle. Gravity tossed him around like a pinball machine. If he could concentrate enough to stop a nuclear weapon explosion, surely he could handle this. They had maybe seconds before the vehicle would hit the ground in a fiery end. Drowning out all sound, he meditated. Picturing himself somewhere else.

  Oh, you're no fun, Wind whined.

  The limousine began to balance itself straight. Attempting not to think about how close they were to the ground, Marcel grasped his hands and demanded air to level the vehicle.

  Before long, wind slowed the decline. Eyes still closed, he could feel air pushing the bottom of the limousine upwards and cradling it to the ground.

  They landed, harder than he would've wanted, on the side of the vehicle. Marcel immediately rushed out the sunroof onto the street. He looked up, but the chopper was gone.

  Gerard's legs touched the surface of the rooftop and he moved away as the chopper landed next to him. While the chopper blades slowed down, he caught his breath. He'd been in some wild situations, but never thought he'd be dangling in the air with a limousine and a bitter sorcerer-of-sorts.

  Adam climbed out the driver seat. "Jesus Christ! Did you feel that wind?"

  Sarcastically, Gerard widened his eyes, "Yep."

  "Do we try again to capture him?" Adam said.

  Being in the safety of a helicopter, the naive college kid didn't understand the severity of the situation. Having no intention of risking his life yet again, Gerard answered, "There will be Union Keepers swarming this city in minutes. No doubt Vanderbilt will send tanks. It's not safe here." He climbed into the passenger seat and buckled himself in.

  Shoulders sagging, Adam said, "But…well, that sucks. The plan failed. He can't be killed, he can't be kidnapped, this escape was just…useless."

  "I wouldn't say that," Gerard said, leaning back in the seat. "Did you happen to notice the whirlwind stop instantly?"

  Adam tapped his lip for a second, "Oh yeah. It did. Why?"

  "Marcel banged his head. Hard. It broke his concentration." Gerard nodded, "His magic has a weakness."

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Bobbling and weaving through the sky, Gerard asked Adam again how long he'd been flying choppers. And again, the answer was awhile. Whatever that meant. For an hour, they flew low on radars but high over trees. Trees that even with a lack of sunlight, still managed to grow. Gerard could say he related. Even settled in such discomposure as the Union, he still found strength to stay focused. And even grow. Repeatedly, Adam said during the trip how relieved he was that the possibility of winning this war seemed achievable. On the other hand, Gerard was relieved the possibility of living a future with his family as achievable.

  Or was it?

  How would Janice react at his presence? Did she even want him around? Would she even let him touch their child? And she couldn't possibly be in love with the idiot sitting next to him flying the chopper…could she? Didn't she still wear her wedding ring, like him?

  The computer in his lap gave a series of beeps. Gerard looked down. Blue dots covered the GPS map of their location. Adam spoke loudly into the microphone headset, even though just whispering was good enough. "Remember the blue dots are our allies. Red represent the Union Keepers."

  "I know."

  "You just look confused."

  The only thing Gerard felt confused about was why he didn't just simply kick Adam out of the helicopter and laugh as the moron fell to his death. But then, he reminded himself not only that he didn't know how to fly helicopters…that it probably wouldn't be a good start for his new life at the silo if he murdered the rebellion's leader. "I was just wondering if I tossed you out the door, if we were high enough that you'd flatten like a pancake."

  Adam giggled, "Oh, Gerard. You're so silly. We're going to make great friends. I just know it."

  What an idiot.

  Gerard gazed out the window as the sun rose, casting its hazy and boring brightness over the horizon. What he would do to just get a chance for one single sunrise. When he first married Janice, they spent every weekend at the beach watching the sunrise followed by a light lunch and hard love-making. But that spark dwindled just like the sun. If he couldn't fix his marriage before Doomsday, how would he afterwards?

  "Are you listening?"

  He wasn't. "Yeah."

  "Everyone chipped, on our side, can be warned where nearby Keepers are. We get messages out to them. I can finally get this battle organized. Royal will be thrilled."

  Funny how Gerard's mind was on Janice, while Adam's mind was on Royal.

  He landed the chopper not far from where the blue dots gathered. This felt like changing schools, new people to meet and new people to be jealous of. "What are we going to tell them? About me?"

  "The truth?"

  Gerard shook his head. "If they find out I've been manipulating Marcel to gain his favor, just to betray him…do you honestly think they'll trust me?"

  "Uh…hmmm…guess I never thought of it."

  Idiot.

  The chopper thudded as it landed on a bare hill. If Adam's leadership was as good as his driving, then the People of Bliss were in for a rough ride. After pressing a few buttons and triggering a few knobs, the chopper's blades slowed to the point they could remove their headsets. "Well," Adam huffed, "I guess we can just tell them you deflected from the Union. And I trust you because you're my best friend."

  Gerard's stomach felt uneasy from either the radical ride here or the way Adam said best friend. The last person to call him that was Marcel. And perhaps, in many ways, he was his best friend. "How about just saying we're friends? Maybe acquaintances? Or co-workers?"

  "Oh, you," Adam giggled, climbing out the door. "Gimme a hand, would you, buddy?"

  Even the word buddy made a chunk of vomit travel up Gerard's throat. He climbed out and landed on the faint green grass. From the back seat, Adam yanked out a large green colored sheet that looked more vibrant than the grass but did its job at hiding the
vehicle from prying eyes.

  "So, our plan worked out great! But um…what about Marcel Celest?" Adam said, losing his breath after only a third of the way through covering the chopper.

  Admittedly, the plan for ending the Union's database worked but not for ending its Supreme Leader. Marcel, undoubtedly, was peeved with his best friend. Gerard had kept a secret for nearly a year. A secret that he planned on gaining trust and obliterating it when the time was right. It seemed cruel. But so was declaring martial law upon innocent people. Sympathy never lingered long in Gerard's mind. The future mattered, not the past. And the future couldn't revolve around the Union.

  By Gerard's long silence, Adam knew there was no answer. "Well, then we wasted our time trying to take him out, huh?"

  Gerard pictured that moment, fighting with Marcel high up in the sky on top of a vehicle, when his brother-in-law's concentration broke. And so did the wind. His control of the elements had a weakness. "Not necessarily."

  Using the excuse that he needed time to prepare himself, Adam finally left Gerard alone. Daybreak reminded him how much he needed coffee. But somehow he assumed the missile silo didn't have a Starbucks. Unable to decide which would be more awkward meeting, the People of Bliss or his wife, he concluded on both. So now he had to decide what to say to both. Honestly, he thought he wouldn't make it this far. It's like when his father-in-law ran for President, so much energy had been applied to the journey that the end result seemed surreal.

  Since the truth coated him as such an awful person for siding with the Union, Gerard kept going over and over in his head what to say. Adam already warned him that every new member got vetted. Part of their agreement was Gerard would help Adam upload his virus to the system and he'd stay inside the Union as a mole. Plans changed. Especially when he had no yearning to stay and be some kind of Bard to King Marcel Celest in a castle.

  The longer he stayed in this tight passenger seat of the chopper, with empty pizza boxes and napkins on the floor, the sooner he wanted to leave. But a headache was growing. Lack of sleep, or worse yet lack of a decision of what story to tell, made the headache balloon like a cake. He heard a repetitive clank, like metal hitting metal. That sound definitely didn't help. To his right, down a hill covered more by moss than grass, were four teenage boys. Judging by their attire of dirt-soaked pants, socks with no shoes, and shirts too small, it was safe to say they were children of the rebellion. The youngest one, probably juvenile enough to be a freshman, threw an empty soup can while the other boy, probably old enough to be a senior, hit the can with a metal bat. This was the worse display of baseball Gerard seen since he watched the Astros play in Houston. He could've ignored it, but forcing himself to address other people's problems could help him escape his.

  What if the People of Bliss didn't admit him? And they kicked him out on the street? What then? The Union couldn't take him back. Would Janice even be able to look him in the eye?

  Gerard shook his head and hopped out of the helicopter, landing on both feet. Halfway down the hill, the senior noticed him and froze in place. Visitors didn't come around here often, he could tell, because all three boys said nothing as he approached. All frozen like statues, Gerard decided to break the ice. "It's in the stance."

  The trio looked to each other for some kind of non-verbal agreement of what to do. The senior said, "We ain't supposed to talk strangers out here."

  "Well," Gerard shrugged, "You technically just did."

  Caught off guard, which the truth often did, the boy took a step back. "We were just wandering the woods, decided to play some ball."

  More lies, like the creases in a uniform that would never go away permanently but could be ironed out. Gerard bent down to the ground and with his finger drew two circles diagonally from each other. "Your feet are the most important part. You a leftie or a rightie?"

  Again, the senior looked to his naive, and yet just as clueless, peers for instruction. He turned to Gerard, "Leftie."

  "Good! I hear left handed people are in their right mind."

  Not getting the lame joke, the boys nodded their heads. Gerard continued, "Put your left foot here and right foot here."

  The senior listened, holding the bat with a firmer grip than before. Already understanding these boys didn't want their backs to a stranger, Gerard turned to face the kid as he positioned himself. "Back is important too, keep it aligned to the center of those feet. Your head and hip too. When it's time to swing, make sure the arm is bent and palms are down to the ground. Prepare yourself for the worse. Because, let's face it, you have no idea what is about to happen."

  The senior nodded and raised the bat up to his shoulder. Gerard, like he was a supermodel photographer, took glances from different areas. "Perfect. Now," he said grabbing the can from the freshman and holding it up, "don't look at anything else besides this." Jokingly, he moved the rusty object around in zig-zags to ensure the boy listened. The middle kid giggled, at least someone had a sense of humor. Sure enough the boy's eyes never left the goal, an inanimate object that meant everything at that moment. Gerard tossed it and the senior hit it with all his might. The can flew across the yard, higher than they could see.

  "Woah," the boys said in unison.

  "You see, it's all about the preparation." Gerard whispered proudly. "So…What gives? You boys practicing for the World Series, because I hate to break it to you…doubt its ever gonna happen again."

  "We're not playing baseball," the freshman said. "We're practicing."

  Throwing objects with the intention of smacking them away sounded like baseball to Gerard. Wasn't it? "Practicing for what?"

  The freshman opened his mouth only to be interrupted by the senior. "It's a secret. Secret mission."

  Gerard wasn't used to information being withheld from him. The last person to keep a secret from him was his neighbor and the recipe for quite possibly the best lasagna Gerard ever tasted. Determined to find out the ingredients, he decided to just break into the neighbor's house to steal the receipe rather than accept someone was better at cooking. "A secret?" He answered glumly.

  "Yes," a female said from behind. He knew immediately who it was, for he'd known her voice since they dated in High School. "A secret. You should know about that," Janice said standing by the open door to the silo.

  Expecting to see his wife, Gerard still didn't know if he should run up to hug or kiss her. Or do nothing at all. She seemed fragile, if he held her too tight she might snap like these tree branches. Maybe she didn't want to be held in the first place. It had been almost a year since they parted and who knew how she felt. "Hey," was all he could manage to say. Janice looked tired, more tired than her hay days of partying and boozing all night. Something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

  "Hey," she answered back, about as unemotional as his greeting. "Follow me. I'll take you to the check in office." But he couldn't help notice she looked him in the eye. Already off to a good start.

  As Gerard left, he tossed the can and the senior hit it nicely with the bat. Practice made perfect, but they were on the right track for whatever they planned on doing with those bats. It bothered him, the Capital Policeman still in his blood had to understand this situation. What were kids doing playing with bats and tin cans? But not doing it for sport?

  Only halfway down the corridor, into the silo, did he realize. The boys outside were practicing swatting away tear gas canisters.

  After a brief visit through the corridor, where a blind Frenchman guarded the door, Gerard was led by Janice into circular walkway. Hearing the clank of each footstep on the metal grated catwalk sounded like an alarm. It smelled like musty old tavern that his father would drink and pass out in. Underground silos weren't known for excellent air quality, but Gerard could still hear the mum of vents pushing air throughout the silo. Water rushed through the pipes. Everything here needed a desperate upgrade, but as soon as that thought sparked in his mind, he distinguished it. Upgrading and lavish living belonged in the realm
of the Union. Gerard was just going to have to get used to this new lifestyle. That's if, the People of Bliss even accepted him.

  As he followed Janice into a side room and hallway, he remembered what Adam had prepared him for. First, the medical room. Second, the search room. Third, the vetting room.

  The medical room was what he expected. Everything was white. White floors. White tables. White chairs. And personnel dressed in white. Why are doctors so obsessed with the color white? The only thing Gerard hadn't expected, was children. Besides a head nurse, the other three people in that room were children aged between 9-12. As uncomfortable as Gerard was with a kid that should've been in school creating a volcano project for the science fair and not sticking a needle in his arm, the girl did an exceptional job of drawing three vials of blood. The nurse guided the children much of the way, explaining the difference in needles and how to operate the machinery to test the blood. Each of them fascinated and taking notes. Gerard only found video games fascinating at that age.

  While the blood circulated in the machine, Janice finally spoke for the first time in the silo. "Union agreement included something similar, if I'm not mistaken, right? A procedure to find who is more compatible with what position?"

  Gerard nodded, feeling himself falling in love with her again. Though her pale face and sunken eyes made Janice seem ill, she was still the most gorgeous woman he'd ever met. "They used genetics to determine what job you belonged to. What about here? How do they do it?"

  Janice smirked, "They ask."

  The door opened and Adam entered. "Sorry, I'm late," he said almost too ecstatic.

  Not expecting him to join the entrance examination, Gerard just scoffed. Janice gave a short smile before coughing frantically. Not some sort of too-much-pollen-in-the-air cough, but a deep permanent phlegm hack. Afterwards, he asked softly. "Is something wrong? You seem…I don't know…sick."

  She shrugged, "I'm fine."

  "I can always tell when you're lying, because you curl your hair."