Bystanders

by Phillip Murrell

  “Die, you traitor! The Chairman will kill that bitch of a boss you have,” the initial man with the upper hand taunts.

  The second man is able to reverse the hold and get on top. “Say goodbye to Julie for me. We’ll kill that bitch soon enough.”

  The first man is able to reverse their positions back into his favor. “Wait, do you work for Mr. Osaka or Miss Tress?”

  “You know I’m with Osaka!”

  The first man lets the second one up. “Shit, man. I thought you were on the other side.”

  The second man takes a few breaths, then he accepts the helping hand up from the first. “Sorry, it’s not like we’re wearing uniforms out here. It’s too hard to keep track of who’s who.”

  “I’m sticking with fighting The Opposition then. They stand out.”

  “I heard th--”

  The second man is struck over the head by a bo staff. The first watches as his “buddy” falls unconscious, and Alpha stares at him.

  “Aw, hell.”

  Alpha swings his staff and ends the fight for the first man as well. He then moves on to another target.

  Mike drives through the streets, still trying to get home. He looks frantically at the clock in his dashboard.

  “Come on, Mike. You got to go faster. Almost there.”

  Mike turns down a street and sees a crowd of rioters coming his way. “Shit!”

  Mike slams on the brakes. The crowd rushes toward him. A bullet passes through his windshield.

  “Screw this!”

  Mike puts it in reverse and speeds backwards into the intersection he just turned from. A van slams into his car and pushes him down the street. Mike is shaken up, but he’s not injured. He tries to get the car to keep driving, but the vehicle won’t budge.

  “Come on! Not now! I have to get home, you miserable piece of shit car!”

  Mike tries in vain to get his vehicle to start. He can hear the crowd getting closer.

  “This is stupid.”

  Mike jumps out of his car and starts to run down the street. The other driver does the same, in the opposite direction.

  The National Guard finally arrives at Colberton. Tanks and Humvees pull into the city and set up checkpoints. Helicopters fly overhead with loud speakers.

  One pilot addresses the masses beneath him. “Citizens of Colberton, this is the United States military. Martial law is in effect. Go home now! Those on the streets will be seen as aggressors first.”

  The helicopter pair flies on and repeats the dire warning.

  Captain Jefferson stands in his station, obviously unsure of what to do. Other cops are geared up and waiting for orders.

  “Has anyone seen Carlos?” Karen asks.

  A lot of blank stares are her answer.

  Mendez comes up. “You were there, Karen. You saw what happened.”

  “I didn’t see Carlos go down. I just saw him get hit, I think. That damn gas was everywhere screwing the plan all to hell.”

  Mendez looks sad. “I saw him dive into a building about ten seconds before a lead factory followed him in.”

  “No!” Karen exclaims. “You didn’t see him go down, did you?”

  “I can’t say,” Mendez answers. “He’s a tough old bastard.”

  Karen nods. “He gets it from me.”

  “I’m sure he does.”

  “Where’s your partner?” Karen’s eyes go wide as she realizes who his partner is. “Oh, no. Is Pecos alright?”

  Mendez smiles like he has a secret. “I wouldn’t worry about Maria. She’s full of surprises. I’m sure she’s out there right now, single-handedly setting things right.”

  Karen frowns.

  “Trust me, the rookie’s got a little more to her than you all give her credit,” Mendez says.

  Karen’s eyes soften. “I hope you’re right. We can’t be losing our partners. I don’t want to get stuck with you.”

  “I do have feelings, you know. That just hurts.”

  Karen hits Mendez playfully on the shoulder and laughs at him. “Thanks, I needed that.”

  “No problem.” Mendez looks around the room. “Are we ever going to go back out there? I kind of feel like a pussy standing here while the city burns.”

  Karen shrugs. “I know what you mean. I’m sure Sergeant Love is dead, and I don’t think Captain Jefferson can make a decision without him.”

  “Is anyone going to take command?”

  “Yes.” Chief Wallace strolls past Mendez and Karen. Following him is a general in the National Guard. “Everyone, listen up!”

  The station goes silent. Finally, some authority!

  “I’m disgusted to see so many of you just standing around with your thumbs up your asses. That’s going to change, starting right now!”

  Chief Wallace gives a disgusted look to Captain Jefferson. Jefferson averts his eyes.

  Chief Wallace continues addressing his police officers. “Standing beside me is General Davis. He’s commanding all of the fine soldiers who are funneling into our city as we speak.”

  Chief Wallace allows a moment for the fact to sink in. “That’s right, the cavalry is here. So, you can stop hiding behind your mommy’s skirt and help these fine Americans take back control of your city!”

  A lot of heads look down. They’re too ashamed to face their chief.

  “I’ll now turn it over to General Davis.”

  General Davis steps forward. “Thank you, Chief Wallace.”

  General Davis looks at the assembled officers. “I’m sorry that the situation requires me to be here with my soldiers. Trust me when I say that we want to get home to our families and will therefore finish the mission as soon as possible.”

  There are a few disgruntled looks.

  “My brigades have each been assigned a different boundary in the city. Those boundaries have likewise been divided up by the battalions. Each will seize vital hubs in the city, then clear lanes around these objectives. I’ll need you people to be a friendly face to keep the civilians in their homes. We already have reports of the flying vigilantes operating in the city.”

  There are some murmurs, but Chief Wallace halts them all with a steely stare.

  General Davis presses on. “I don’t know exactly what this man is or what his intentions are. I do know this. Blocking bullets is one thing, but blocking a hellfire missile is something different entirely.”

  A lot of heads nod, including Karen’s. The vigilante doesn’t sound so scary with choppers and tanks.

  “That man is the catalyst for all this destruction, so I’ve already dispatched gunships toward his position.”

  Karen notices that both Mendez and Benji seem concerned by this. Everyone else nods eagerly to the idea.

  “There’s a curfew in place every evening at eighteen hundred. Make sure your people enforce it.” General Davis turns to Chief Wallace. “Please have your people break into groups. I’ll integrate them into my formations.”

  Chief Wallace nods. “Thanks.” He then turns his attention to his officers. “You heard him, people. Time to start earning your pay again.”

  The police officers cheer as military personnel start to set up shop and integrate with the police.

  Benji discreetly goes to his desk and pulls out his cell phone. He dials Claire.

  She answers. “Hey, you. You had me worried tonight, but why are you calling? I’m sure you have to be as busy as I am.”

  “The National Guard just arrived,” he answers.

  “Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

  “Mostly it is, but I think they’re going to try and kill First Line. Their general was just in here galvanizing the troops. So much for the guy being a government black ops soldier.”

  “I’m sure First Line can take care of himself.”

  “Against tanks and choppers? I know his armor is good, but is it hellfire missile good?”

  Claire pauses on the other end of the line. “I don’t know. I hope so, but if it isn’t, I’m sure First Line will
just fly away.”

  “Will he? I believe in him, just like you. The city needs a hero right now, and I think he’s the guy. Heroes love to sacrifice themselves all the time.”

  “True, but heroes don’t fight the good guys. The National Guard is here to help, so why would First Line even engage them?”

  “I don’t know if he’ll have a chance to avoid the confrontation. Reports of First Line’s Purple Dome of Wonder have been coming in quite frequently. He’s ending the extreme violence out there, but he still has one more gang fight to extinguish. The National Guard have already sent attack choppers to that location.”

  “Thanks for the heads up, Benji, but what am I supposed to do with it?”

  Benji thinks for a moment. “Warn him. Do whatever it takes. He shouldn’t have to become a martyr.”

  Standing in the D2I studio, Claire listens. “Okay, Benji. I’ll do my best to warn him.”

  “Thanks, Babe.”

  Claire blushes. “Babe? Really? You can’t come up with anything better than that?”

  “When I have a moment to think, I’ll work on it. I just didn’t know if we were far enough in our relationship for Honey Bunny. I’ve got to go.”

  “Alright, bye. Be safe.”

  Benji hangs up on his end. Claire is lost in her thoughts as she tries to come up with a plan to help First Line, then her eyes light up.

  “Boss, I need the helicopter.”

  Larry looks at her, clearly confused. “Why? It’s already out there taking footage.”

  One of Larry’s producers walks up. “No, it isn’t. The military kicked them all out of the sky. It just got back. We’ve been grounded.”

  Larry slams his fist against the nearest wall. The tacky artwork rattles from the force.

  “Who the hell are these guys that they can tell the press we can’t report?” he asks.

  “Martial law, sir,” the producer responds. “They have the power for a limited time.”

  Claire beams as an idea forms. “They may have the power, but I doubt they have the sack.”

  Larry and the producer look at Claire. They shake their heads with apparent confusion.

  “What the hell are you talking about, Claire?”

  “Just because the pilots can shoot us down, it doesn’t mean that they will. They’re family men and women, too. They aren’t going to kill reporters for defying them.”

  “No, but I’m completely sure that they’ll come by and arrest us afterwards,” the producer says.

  Larry nods in agreement.

  Claire doesn’t care. “So, we can then make them try us in the court of public opinion. I’ve proven to be a master of manipulating that.”

  Larry looks doubtful at that claim.

  Claire re-phrases. “Fine, but I’m pretty good. The people don’t like to blindly trust the government, so I don’t think any charges will stick because we refused to ignore our constitutional right of freedom of the press.”

  Larry slowly nods as Claire watches him decide. “Alright, Claire, what’s your plan?”

  Claire capitalizes on the freedom. “We take the helicopter and report over First Line.”

  “How will you find him?” Larry asks.

  Claire is dumbfounded. “We just look for a giant purple sports arena. It’s pretty distinct, Boss. Are you feeling alright?”

  “Cut the shit, Claire,” Larry says, “what’s next?”

  “Then we just stay as reporters on the battlefield. The soldiers won’t be as trigger happy because they won’t want to be tried for making a bad choice. Killing a reporter and her pilot is definitely a bad choice.”

  “Even hurting them is,” the producer adds.

  “Claire, I know you’re bat shit crazy enough to agree to this, but can you find a pilot?” Larry asks.

  “Will can take me up,” she promptly answers. “He used to fly in the army. Maybe he even knows some of the National Guard pilots.”

  “Are you sure you can convince him to help?”

  Claire smiles. “Of course, I can. It’s what I do, Boss.”

  Claire feels a pang of guilt and winces as her memory goes to Lou Drive. She forces herself to shake it off, but she realizes she needs more counseling.

  “Fine, Claire. Make it happen. Make sure Will hasn’t left for the night.”

  “Where would he go? The streets are crazy right now.”

  “If you want him to fly you around, you’ll need a little crazy. Get out of here.”

  Claire runs off while Larry continues to monitor the news as it flows in.

  A new purple barrier is up in a different section of the city, and Team Votary attacks the last major gang fight.

  As with the previous fight, this one has devolved to mostly melee weapons. A few shots are still heard, but they’re still ineffective against the armor Team Votary all possess.

  Votary sweeps the legs out from under three nearby attackers. He then stands and flips in the air, landing with a kick to the face of one, and the other two each receive an escrima stick attack. The men are unconscious, but Votary does not immediately stand up.

  Votary breathes heavily, and the sound escapes his helmet in hisses. The night has been a long fight, and he’s winded. Fortunately, Alpha and Bravo don’t have the same limitations that lungs provide.

  Bravo amputates people, but doesn’t kill them. The limbs separate at elbows and knees. Some of these people eventually bleed out, but that’s a technicality that Bravo is apparently programmed to overlook.

  Bravo flies over and helps Votary back to his feet. Votary controls his breathing and nods. Bravo flies up and shock slams another trio of bad guys.

  Votary puts out another blast of his odor repellent. Those near Votary gag on the disgusting fumes. He then hits them with his white adhesive. They’re immobilized from feet to shoulders.

  Votary runs by them, standing like mummified pharaohs, and smacks each across the head.

  Alpha spins his staff around him. Beating people with each strike. There’s a large group of concussion victims lazily stumbling around him. Many get a staff to the crotch as a reward for standing.

  There are no longer two factions, just victims of the vicious attacks by the three armored warriors. Coordinated attacks are quickly quelled. Survivors beat on the walls of the barrier, to no affect.

  A female survivor pleads for mercy. “Okay, man, you made your point. You don’t have to kill all of us. Just let the police pick us up.”

  A second woman adds to the plea. “I surrender.”

  A wounded man stumbles near the two females. “We’re nothing. There are still hit teams going through the buildings. The Chairman put a hit out for Tina Sanders and anyone connected to her. If you want to end this, you’ve got to stop those psychos.”

  Votary’s head snaps at the mention of Tina Sanders.

  “Which building?” he demands with his modulated voice adding extra bass.

  “I don’t know,” the first woman answers.

  “It’s close,” the second adds, “I know that much. I’m pretty sure it’s on this street.”

  The man also grovels. “The target was a teenaged boy. I know that much. He’s close. Please let us go.”

  Votary blasts the trio with the last of his white adhesive. They’re stuck to the barrier and scream in protest.

  “What the hell!” the first woman screams.

  “I thought the police were going to get us?” the man adds.

  The second female survivor prefers insults to more pleads. “You dick! I’ll find you and take away what you care about.”

  Votary walks toward the foolish woman. Her voice reveals the fear she must be feeling. “Shit, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It’s the stress talking.”

  Votary raises his hand, preparing to strike.

  “Shit. Shit!” she screams. “Leave me alone!”

  Instead of punching the woman, Votary sprays his stink straight into her open mouth. She gags on the overwhelming putridness of it all.


  Votary speaks over her gagging. “I’m not stupid enough to let you turn yourself in. The cops will be along shortly.”

  A barrage of rockets starts to slam into the purple barrier. Votary looks up and sees attack helicopters firing into it. Twenty-millimeter chain guns also spill an endless supply of bullets into the purple dome.

  The second woman pukes, because of the nature of the last attack against her. The other two detainees scream in unison. They react to the walls of the barrier trembling with each impact from the rockets.

  The man screams first. “It’s tingling, man. Is it supposed to do this?”

  “We’re gonna die!” the woman says. “You have to cut us loose.”

  The purple dome begins to flicker due to the strength of the attack from the National Guard. It won’t hold much longer.

  Mike finally reaches the outside of his building. He notices a purple barrier blocks the entrance. The front side of his building is inside the perimeter.

  “What rotten luck!” he says. “Of course, they would literally be fighting in my front yard.”

  Mike flinches as another round of rockets screams into the sides of the barrier. He feels the ground rumbling beneath his feet and sees tanks and Humvees driving toward his location.

  “Damn it!”

  Mike hides behind a dumpster and prays for a chance to get into his apartment.

  A final barrage of dozens of rockets slams into the barrier. With a last sputter, it disappears. The three detainees stuck to the side all fall, screaming, until their unprotected heads strike the pavement. A pile of puke surrounds the confrontational woman.

  Votary rushes toward Mike’s building. He ran internal profiles on Tina Sanders and deduced that Mike Folsen was the most likely target. He switches to thermal imagery.

  Votary scans the building and notices three men with high powered rifles climbing the stairs. They approach Mike’s floor.

  Votary shifts his view to the specific apartment and sees two small forms inside it.

  Keith and Kyle hide inside the apartment under Kyle’s bed. They’re terrified from all the nearby explosions.