by Brian Parker
Two minutes. He could do anything for two minutes. He willed his legs to pump harder. Veronica was inside the walls. His sons, Mason, Anthony and John, their children, his grandchildren, Tyler and Nicole, Kayla and Lorelei; everyone that he knew and cared about lived in San Angelo. They had to make it back inside so he could be with them and defend his home alongside the Shooters and the other defenders like he’d done hundreds of times over the years. He’d failed to stop the attack; he couldn’t fail to be there with them for it as well.
The gates loomed before him. They were closing. He heard Joseph shouting behind him and he glanced back, the Shooter was waving a small neon pink piece of fabric over his head. It was an old VS-17 panel that ground troops used to signal pilots back in the old world. Since they were virtually indestructible and folded up to the size of a deck of playing cards, the Shooters had adopted them as way of signaling each other from long distances to avoid accidentally shooting one another.
Joseph’s signal worked. The gates stopped closing and Aeric heard the shouts of encouragement from the defenders. The cinderblock, brick and metal walls came and went as they raced through the gate. His chest hurt and his lungs heaved as he tried to catch his breath. The bike skidded to a halt a few feet beyond the walls and he heard the clang of the gates as they closed.
His chest seized, spread pain across his left side. He vaguely heard the metal crossbeams inserted into place behind the gates. It sounded like he was underwater. Aeric was dimly aware of people thumping him on the back in congratulations before he collapsed.
*****
“Oh! He’s waking up,” Veronica said.
Aeric blinked against the bright light and looked around blearily. He recognized the dresser and the useless ceiling fan above. He was in his bedroom and sunlight streamed in through the windows on the west side of the house. He didn’t remember going to his house. The last thing he remembered was making it through the gate and then pain. So much pain in his chest; it was more than from exhaustion or the exertion of their narrow escape, something had happened.
Veronica leaned across him and held onto him. Her gentle shuddering told him that she was crying. He let her get it out and after a moment, she pushed herself up. She had red-rimmed eyes and her face was puffy from crying. He wondered how long she’d been at it. “How do you feel?” she asked.
“Ugh,” he replied. “I feel like crap. What happened?”
“You beat the Vulture army inside the walls and then collapsed,” Mason stated from the other side of the bed.
He turned to see his oldest child grinning at him. Beside him, little Aiden reached out and grabbed Aeric’s shirt, using the fabric to pull himself up. “I’m glad that you’re okay, Grandad!” the little boy whimpered as he hugged Aeric.
Aeric hugged him back, feeling like he’d been run over by a truck and then backed over again for good measure. “Thanks, little buddy. I’m alright, just tired.”
He lolled his head over to the side and Veronica’s lovely face came into view. “Hey, baby,” Aeric muttered.
She fell forward onto the bed beside him and hugged him around his grandson. “I was so worried about you, Aeric,” she sobbed.
He hugged her back awkwardly and said, “It’ll take more than a bike ride to do me in.”
Veronica pulled back and touched him lightly on his chest, “Aeric, you were writhing on the ground and clutching your chest. Then you stopped. We think you had a heart attack. If it hadn’t been for Joseph’s quick reaction in giving you CPR, then you probably would have died.”
“A heart attack?” he asked. That must be why he felt like crap. He’d chalked it up to his bad back and the overwhelming exertion from trying to race the Vultures while hauling Joseph in a wagon behind the bike. “What about the Vultures?”
“They’re sitting outside the walls,” Mason answered. “They’re outside of rifle range and they haven’t tried to attack; it’s like they’re sitting there waiting for something.”
Aeric tried to sit up. His son placed a restraining hand across his chest. “Sorry, Dad. You’ve gotta get some rest.”
“Bullshit, Mason. I have to oversee the defense of the city.”
“Captain Griffith has it under control. You’re not in any shape to go anywhere. Mr. Winston and his engineers have done an outstanding job on those walls. The Vultures are gonna sit out there until they starve to death or go home because they aren’t getting through those walls.”
Aeric’s exhaustion overcame his desire to micromanage the city’s forces. He nodded his head reluctantly and lay back against the pillows. “You’re right. I’ll stay here and get some rest.”
Mason smiled and reached over to gently pull Aiden off of his grandfather. “Maybe you could tell Aiden a story. I haven’t ever gotten around to telling him the story about how you met mom. He’d really like to hear about all those toys from the old world.”
He looked past his son to the little boy. There wasn’t any way for the new generation to avoid making the same mistakes in the future without learning about those in their past. “Okay, Aiden. Get comfortable by your old grandad.”
The boy eased himself into a position on the bed where he could see Aeric’s face. “Let’s see. I guess the story starts a few weeks before I graduated from high school—that was the first time that I saw the evidence of a terrorist attack. I was walking to school in the rain and this strange gray sludge fell out of the sky and hit me right on the head.”
“What’s strange about that, Grandad?” Aiden asked innocently.
Mason grinned down at the two of them. “Alright, Dad. Mom and I are gonna go downstairs and then I’ve got to check on the defenders on the walls.”
“Goodbye, Son,” Aeric answered. “We’ll have Aiden stay here tonight. The Traxx family story will take a long time if I’m going to tell it properly.”
Veronica leaned down and kissed him once again. “Don’t scare him, Aeric. And you still need to get some rest.”
“I’m not going to scare him. I’m just going to tell him the truth.”
She straightened at the waist and stared down at her husband. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Mason and Veronica left Aeric and Aiden alone in the bedroom. Aeric had planned on simply telling the boy the story about his journey to Springfield with Tyler, but felt compelled to expand the story.
The hours ticked away and the tale continued past Kate’s death and by the time he was finished, he’d told Aiden about his latest adventure to Austin and how he and Joseph had escaped all the way back to San Angelo. The boy’s innocent questions carried the story along and by the time he was done, the sun had fallen below the horizon.
For the first time in years, Aeric felt totally relaxed. He felt as if his soul had been cleansed.
*****
“We’ve been here for days, Kendrick. Are you sure that your man on the inside is even still alive?”
“Patience, Starr,” the leader of the Vultures admonished. “He’s probably waiting until the moment is right. I would have received a notice if he’d died.”
“How?”
“I have my ways,” he replied. “That old fool in Eden told Aeric Traxx that I was coming after him, so we’ve lost the element of surprise, but I have other resources in and around this city. Razing San Angelo has been on my to-do list for as long as I can remember.”
“I wish you’d have let me play with him at least before you beat him to death,” she pouted.
“In spite of what you think, everything on this planet is not a plaything for you, my dear. I regret killing Judd. I acted out of haste and anger. To think, the assassin that my men let escape was Aeric Traxx. Imagine how demoralizing it would have been for them if we’d been able to capture him and nailed him to a cross outside their city walls. Tyler probably would have challenged me to a fight right then and there; kill two birds with one stone and all that.”
Starr looked at him skeptically, “Didn’t you say that he was a giant
? Like almost seven feet tall and muscled like a god?”
Kendrick’s eyes flashed in anger, “Do you doubt me?” He had never approved of the almost godlike worshiping that the people of Austin had heaped upon his father, but he did allow himself to believe that he was nearly indestructible. Along with that came the feeling that his word was the law and he was always correct.
“No, of course not, Kendrick. You’ve made him seem like a monster that could break a man’s spine with his bare hands. I didn’t think you’d be capable of winning in hand-to-hand combat against someone like that.”
He glanced over at Quellan. The captain of the palace guard caught his eye and quickly found a spot on the wall of the tent to study. Kendrick turned back to Starr and said, “You’d do well to remember your place, woman. I am the master of the Vultures and will not be talked to like that. I will show you the amount of pain that I can inflict during a torture. Do you understand me?”
She fell to her knees in front of him and pretended to apologize. “I’m sorry, my lord. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just a silly girl and didn’t think about what I was saying.”
Her patronizing tone infuriated him and he grabbed a handful of her hair, jerking her upright. “You little fucking whore!” He held her at arm’s length and threw a vicious punch into her stomach, releasing her hair as he did so. She collapsed into a ball at his feet with her hands clutching her stomach. The anger at her words threatened to overwhelm him and he pulled his leg back, intent on smashing her beautiful face into a pulp with his boot.
The fucking bitch saw his leg and threw her arms up over her head, screeching that she was truly sorry. The leader of the Vultures thought about finishing her anyways, he could always find another woman willing to share in the power that he could offer.
Instead, he slowly lowered his boot to the ground. Starr was the only woman that he’d allowed to see his true self and he cared for her. If it had been anyone else under his boot, he would have killed them without any warning. He actually cared for her.
“Stand up,” Kendrick ordered.
She stood shakily and wouldn’t meet his gaze. The salty lines that ran in multiple directions across her face made a slight lump form in his throat. He swallowed it and said, “You will never speak to me like that again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord,” she muttered.
“What was that?”
She looked up at him and replied, “I will never talk to you like that again, my lord. You are the master of the Vultures. You are invincible.”
“Good. Quellan, leave us and fire the flares. If that idiot Huerta is waiting for a signal, let’s give him one.”
“Yes, sir,” the captain replied and left the tent. Kendrick heard him tell the men outside the tent flap that he was not to be disturbed.
“You must realize, Starr, that I could never let you show insubordination towards me—especially in front of a subordinate like Quellan. That kind of atmosphere becomes ripe for a coup and I like being in charge.”
“Yes, my lord. I understand.” A strange smile played across her face and she clapped her hands. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll find a way to help you defeat their giant. I promise it!”
He sighed, “I don’t need any help. I’ll just shoot him.”
His words didn’t seem to have any impact on her. Instead, she began pacing, her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. She muttered something about blood and souls being the key to victory. Her mind seemed to be slipping further towards the brink; maybe he should have crushed her skull when he had the opportunity to do so. He could have blamed it on his rage and he would have forgiven himself.
Starr stopped and turned her backside towards him, “Do you want me?”
Kendrick unbuckled his pistol belt and tossed it on a desk. Her strange behavior could be analyzed later. He picked up a knife and handed it hilt-first to her. “You know what I like.”
She took the weapon enthusiastically and unsnapped his pants. Yes, she knew exactly what he liked.
*****
Red explosives burst in the air, signaling the traitor that it was time. Edward Huerta looked around the assembled group of boys. The Vulture army had sat outside the gate for almost a week now. He’d taken it upon himself to reunite the two gangs that Kendrick had started all those years ago.
Huerta, a legend among the youth of the Barrio as a symbol of resistance against the collective groupthink of the city leaders, had brought the gangs together by killing Bull and Fish in front of them. Now both gangs had adopted the green square on their chest—Kendrick’s symbol—to help identify them as Vultures to the invading army and protect them during the upcoming bloodbath. He’d effectively sealed off the Barrio to keep away intruders and instructed the boys of their mission to bring down the walls. All they needed was the signal.
He took the flares to be that bastard Kendrick’s go-ahead signal. It had taken him long enough to decide to attack, maybe there were preparations that had to be made that he knew nothing about. Whatever the reason, they were finally ready.
“Right, men,” he began, choosing to call them men instead of boys to strengthen their courage. “We have a mission. For more than twenty-five years I’ve worked in those stinking sewers. I refused to let that self-righteous fuck, Traxx, or his lackeys make me part of their system. Then, Kendrick Rustwood—the man in charge of that giant army outside the city walls—came to me. I worked closely with him to devise the plan to bring down these walls.”
He took a breath and jabbed a finger towards the city’s perimeter. “Those walls have cut across our city, causing your families to be homeless and they forced us into filthy places like the Barrio. Before men like Traxx and Delgado, the old mayor, our families owned homes, had a steady supply of food and weren’t looked down upon by the other residents of San Angelo. After those walls were built, they became a symbol of power for those in charge, those who’ve made us their slaves. This morning, we’re going to bring them down!”
Huerta paused as the assembled gang members cheered him on. They were eating it up. The stupid fucks didn’t realize that he’d turn on them the moment he had the chance. Kendrick had promised him a position in the Vulture’s hierarchy; he hadn’t said anything about the Barrio trash that helped him destabilize the city. Bull’s gang had been releasing demonbrocs for weeks, causing widespread panic and even a few deaths while Fish’s gang had been stealing and stockpiling supplies, causing neighbors to turn on one another in accusations of theft. Now, they’d destroy the walls and the frightened, untrusting defenders wouldn’t be able to put together a coordinated response. The Vultures would walk in, virtually unscathed.
He raised his arms to quiet the boys down. Better to not bring attention to themselves just yet. “Alright, men. Settle down. As some of you know, instead of disposing of the shit like I’ve told the City Council I was doing, I’ve stockpiled it. Yes, I’ve been saving the feces of every man, woman and child in this city for years. Do you know why?”
“For fertilizer?” one of the boys in the back asked.
“That would be a good reason, but no,” Huerta acknowledged. “Shit, especially dried shit, burns very hot for a long time. I’ve lined the sewer system that runs underneath the city with that dried shit. Once we light it, the fire will rage uncontrolled beneath their feet. The heat will set off the explosives in the walls and the city will fall to the Vultures.”
Once again the cheering reminded him of why he’d spent most of his adult life in those sewers, toiling away in the stink and the filth. Traxx would pay for creating the Barrio. The conditions inside the slum had allowed diseases to spread, killing thousands of people, including Huerta’s family. He allowed his mind to manipulate the timeline since he knew that his wife and child had died of some type of flu years before the walls had been relocated for the third time, when the Barrio was created. Whether it was the creation of the walls or the lack of proper sanitation without the appropriate nutrition and medic
ation, it didn’t matter to him anymore. He’d allowed his hatred to fester under the gently massaged timelines.
It was the only thing that had kept him sane down in those tunnels for so long.
FIFTEEN
Aeric glanced sidelong at his friend. Tyler had miraculously appeared at the city hall this morning proclaiming that he wasn’t about to die at home alone of some bullshit disease while everyone he knew got to fight one more final, epic battle. Clearly he remembered video games and movies far too well.
“Are you sure that you’re ready to go out on the wall, buddy? I mean, a few weeks ago, you were coughing up blood and couldn’t stand.”
Tyler stopped him with a massive hand across his chest. Even though the cancer had eaten away at him, Tyler was still an intimidating subject. “What’s your hang-up, Aeric? I’ve fought and bled for this city—for you. If I was one to point fingers, then I’d come back at you with something about you needing CPR just a couple of days ago.” He shrugged and gently took his hand off of Aeric’s chest, “It’s a good thing for you that I don’t go around pointing fingers.”
“You’re right, man. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Yes, you did,” he replied through a grin. “I can take it, though. So, now that we’ve got that settled, what’s the plan?”
“We don’t know what they’re waiting for. That old man in the prison had said that the Vultures had a nasty surprise for us. He refused to elaborate, though. He was insane, so there’s no telling if they actually have something planned or if his demented mind created it.”
Tyler glanced down at Aiden, who’d become Aeric’s shadow over the past week, raising his eyebrows in a silent question. “It’s okay,” Aeric confirmed. “I’ve told him everything about the Vultures and their wicked ways. Sure, he’s young, but this world has a way of eating up the innocence of youth.”
