by Roman Shepp
Passing the fallen body of Captain Roberts, he mourned the loss of a man he hardly had known. Megan and Brian's bodies were still as well. Tony turned Brian's body over as the man's face had been cracked open. Blood spilled out like the yolk of an egg. Tony was glad to be free. With every step he was closer to the outside, but when he reached the door something troubled him. Looking back, he thought of the man lying on the floor. It was so easy to think of him as a monster, but in reality, he was just a man, as much a victim as anyone else. What he must have gone through to lose his mind like that...was it really right that he should suffer when what he really needed was help? Was it right that he should be cast aside, left to suffer alone?
Tony paused. Groot looked up at him inquisitively. “I just don't know if I can do it, Groot,” he said. “I can't help but think what I'd want someone to do if I was in the same position. I could imagine that so many people have turned their backs on him already. If I do the same, aren't I just letting him be like this? What if there's hope for him? What if there's still a chance the man could be saved? I wouldn't be much of a hero if I walked away from him now, would I?”
The moment he uttered the question he knew he wouldn't be able to leave. He thought of his inspirations, especially Batman. How he always tried to rehabilitate even his greatest foes, such as the Joker, refusing to kill them because he saw them as victims of mental illness. Tony's compassion wouldn't allow him simply to leave Quentin behind. It tore at his heart, because there was nothing he wanted more than to be with his friends, but in doing so he would not only be shutting Quentin down here, but also a part of himself.
He cursed inwardly, almost wishing he was a different person, one who wasn't plagued with such good morals. Was it wrong of him to have this idea of heroism in his mind? It was born of fiction after all...no, that wasn't entirely true, it also came from himself. Having been an orphan he was bounced around foster homes and saw all manner of different ways people could be treated. The one lesson that always came back to him, though, was always try to do the right thing, try to help people. Quentin looked so forlorn, so lost, and Tony knew he couldn't leave him down there.
However, he knew he wasn't entirely safe with Quentin. For all his good intentions, Quentin still was a violent man and would lash out at Tony without mercy. Tony hoped there was some way to get through to him, but at the moment he was like a wild animal and had to be chained up. Tony quickly rummaged around the bunker and found some rope. He hauled Quentin up. The big man stirred a little and Tony froze, hoping he would be able to sprint away if Quentin did wake up. Groot was growling continuously.
“I know you think this a bad idea, and hell, it probably is, but I've gotta do it,” Tony said, straining under Quentin’s weight.
When he had Quentin in a sitting position by a table, Tony wrapped the rope around his wrists and tied him securely to the table. His legs still were free, but the rope was thick, and although Quentin was a strong man Tony didn't think he would be able to rip away rope. Tony wiped his hands and dug into the supplies, sipping on the water and munching on some biscuits. He tossed a few bits of food to Groot as well, and found a bowl, which he filled with water and set on the floor. Groot eagerly lapped up the water.
Tony was still torn, though.
He walked up the slope and felt the soft fresh air sweep over him. Looking outside, he saw nothing. He smiled, glad that the others had managed to escape. Yet, he was a little sad as well. Part of him thought they might have waited for him, even though he had explicitly told them not to do that. This was for the best. At least they were safe. They could regroup and do what needed to be done, just as Tony needed to do something now. He looked down at Don. The soldier's expression was blank, looking into the abyss. All he had wanted was to see his sweetheart and his baby. He just wanted to be a father. There was a boy out there without a father now, thanks to Quentin. A boy who would grow up questioning his place in the world, just as Tony had. It wasn't fair, he thought, and Tony knew if he didn't do something about Quentin, if he didn't at least try, then more people would fall victim to him.
Walking back, he passed the bodies of the others. Captain Roberts, Megan, and Brian all had fallen. Tony had mixed feelings about them. He admired Captain Roberts, although he wondered if it was right that he had stayed so true to the chain of command when Frank was so clearly someone not to be obeyed. Megan and Brian seemed weak and cowardly, but they probably just were scared. Could he really blame them for throwing their lot in with Frank when he seemed so convincing? All of them had had their lives, as precious as anyone's, and their lives had been snuffed out. Just like all the others.
To think about everyone who had died was a sobering thought. So much joy had been taken out of the world. Sometimes it felt as though Tony's life was defined by death, as though he could not escape. Perhaps this was a new beginning. With Quentin it would have been easy to slash his throat and be done with it, to end his threat once and for all. Although it would not end the gnawing at his soul, the haunting of Tony's conscience. That was a small price to pay for the safety of the world, but he had to give this other way a chance. He had to try talking to Quentin, to bring him back to reality and show him that there was indeed another way. If he just could make Quentin remember what it was to be human, then maybe there was a chance.
With a heavy heart he placed his hands on the door and pushed it shut. The metal groaned, and darkness enveloped him as he encased himself in the bunker. With the door open there was the chance that someone could interfere. He needed to be alone in this. Without him, Quentin could escape and wreak havoc on the world. If he had to be the guardian to the gates of hell, then so be it.
Tony returned to the room and sat on a chair, staring at Quentin. The man slumped forward, his head hanging down. The mask covered half his face, obscuring the true sight of his identity. So much blood was on his hands, literally and figuratively. His flesh was stained red up to the middle of his forearm. Fear rippled through Tony's body just by being so near him. It was as though he was in the presence of a demon, easy to forget that he was just a man.
“I know you don't like this. Maybe the others wouldn't either,” Tony said to Groot, who had finished drinking for the moment and was sitting warily in between Tony and Quentin.
“But I had to make this decision for all of us. Maybe one day I'll be able to leave, if this all goes as planned, but everyone deserves a chance to live. Look at him, Groot. The man is a victim. He deserves a little bit of mercy. I know what you'd say if you could talk. So did his victims. That's true, and if the world hadn't gone and torn itself apart, I'd be the first one to march him to jail and have him condemned, but the world has changed. We need to have a new way of doing things. I can't let him go, but I can't kill him either. Not again. Not after last time,” he said, thinking back to all the people he had killed, the victims of the cannibals he had put out of their misery. Their deaths still weighed heavily on him, even though he remembered their anguished moans of pains, and their whispered hopes of release.
“This man isn't like them, though. He needs something more. He needs help. I wish I knew how to give it to him. I hope I'm doing the right thing. I'm not even a counselor. Maybe it's better for me just to give in and let this man die. No, I can't do it yet, Groot. I just can't. I have to try holding onto life. There has been too much death. I'm sick and tired of it. I know what the others would say, but they're not the ones who had to look into those eyes and watch as those people died. They're not the ones who have to live with that every day of their life. I'm not going to kill again if I don't have to do it. If there's a choice, then I'm always going to choose life.”
Even now he was surrounded by death. The three dead bodies were in the bunker, but Tony was too weak to drag them out. He still ached from his earlier fight with Quentin, and he didn't much like the thought of heaving them out just yet. It was morbid to think about them sharing the living space with him, but he would see to them soon. When he had more streng
th, he'd give them a proper burial as well. They deserved some dignity at least.
It was too easy to forget about everything that made everyone human. All the rituals that had been passed down from generation to generation were there for a reason, and some of them had to be upheld. Still there were so many things to do. So many things that weighed on him and made him feel even more exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep. Sleep would come eventually, for him as it did for all men, but until then he would have to keep fighting. Fights took all different shapes. They weren't always physical battles, more often than not they were a battle of wills, fighting against some metaphysical force.
It seemed that Quentin had lost such a battle. Tony wondered what had happened to make the man so broken. Something had traumatized him, causing him to speak to people who weren't there. Until he woke up Tony couldn't do anything to help, though, and even then, it would require Quentin having the presence to mind to recognize Tony was indeed there to help. However, Tony wasn't sure Quentin had that presence of mind. Waiting and waiting, Tony thought about his place in the world and how he never thought he'd end up here. When this all first started, and he had saved Saeed from those bullies, he thought he could be a conquering hero, rushing throughout the city with his baseball bat, inspiring everyone through his triumphs.
However, Tony had come to learn that actually being a hero was more nuanced than making grand gestures. Being a hero wasn't about the glory, it was about helping people. If he had to shut himself off from the world in this bunker to help Quentin, then that was what he had to do. He had no idea how long it would take, or even if it would be successful. There was still a chance that he had miscalculated Quentin's strength; that the man easily would break free of his bonds and kill Tony without a second thought, leaving his corpse in this tomb like the others.
Before anything else happened, Tony wanted to see the man behind the mask. The bestial aura Quentin projected was in part due to the mask covering his face. It made it more difficult to connect with him, more difficult to see him as a fellow human being. Tony also theorized it played a part in Quentin's disconnect as well. The mask was obviously precious to him, as had been shown when he had fled after it almost had been dislodged from his face. If Tony could remove the mask, it may help in the healing process, jolting Quentin back to reality. So far, the man still was breathing heavily and did not seem to be any closer to waking.
“I'm going to do it, Groot. Cover me,” Tony said.
Groot did not move. Tony strode forward, keeping low so his hand was at the same level as Quentin's face. He stretched out his arm, his fingers ready to lift the mask off Quentin's face and reveal the man underneath. But just as his fingers were about to touch the mask, Quentin stirred and jerked. His entire body writhed, and his eyes shot open, gleaming maniacally. He was so powerful that the table scraped across the floor as well. Tony jerked his hand back immediately for fear it would be bitten off. Groot barked loudly, and Tony was afraid that Quentin would be able to break free of his restraints, but for now the rope seemed to hold steady.
“Stay away from my face!” Quentin yelled. “Leave my face alone!”
Chapter Fifteen
Rosa pulled the trigger and dirt spat up by Frank's feet. The politician leaped back.
“I told you not to move,” Rosa said, smirking. Frank glowered at her and raised a finger.
“Now listen here. I know you don't give a crap about the laws of this land, but they're still in force. You should take a page out of your Captain's book. He knew what was important. We have to stay true to what we believe in, and I think all of us here believe in America.”
He spoke passionately, but Rosa could do nothing but laugh, and doubled over. She holstered the gun and shook her head. “You're a fool, you know that? Try saying that to someone who hasn't been around you for more than an hour. You don't care about anything other than yourself. This whole thing is your fault. You're the one who encouraged Don to go find his sweetheart. We were working on a plan. It wasn't like we were keeping him from it, we just wanted to make sure he was safe. But no, you had to go and push him into acting, and look where it ended up. For what? Just so there would be one less soldier for you to worry about? And then when we were fighting you try to grab my gun? What the hell were you playing at?”
“I was trying to save everyone's life. You all should be thanking me,” he said.
Rosa shook her head. If Phil wasn't there, she may very well have shot Frank where he was standing. The world was better off without men like him, men who only put themselves first.
“Why do you want to go back to the bunker anyway?” Rosa asked. “I bet part of you wants to see if you can convince that man to join you.”
“I don't want to be anywhere near that monster, but the bunker is the only safe place. We can't let ourselves be overrun by one man. It was your job to protect us and you all failed. You and the other soldiers were useless. Did you even go through training?”
“Two good men gave up their lives for you,” Rosa said through gritted teeth. “I'd think very carefully about what you say next.” Frank glanced at Phil, and for the first moment Rosa saw genuine fear in his eyes. He laughed and smoothed his hair down.
“Look, we're all obviously a little tense after everything that's happened but let's not let it get the better of us. We're still alive, which is a good thing, and we have to work together. What's our next move? I still think we should get down to the bunker. We can't trust the world outside just yet. Has there been any movement? Who's left alive?”
“You don't get this, do you, Frank? We're not going to listen to you. You're not in charge here. You should be lucky we dragged your ass out of there at all. You're just a man.”
“I'm not a man. I'm a leader,” Frank replied, looking as though he wanted to step closer to Rosa, then thinking better of it.
“You're an abusive politician and we're not going to listen to you.”
Phil nodded in agreement.
Frank smirked and looked down at Jane as she rested. The other woman hadn't fully recovered yet. Rosa hoped she would get back soon, if only to have another pair of eyes on Frank. “Guess it figures that you'd believe her. It's a funny thing, isn't it? People never believe the man accused of this behavior. The woman is always innocent. I could tell you a few things about that woman that would make your toes curl. Jane, unfortunately, is a misguided woman who never can get her facts straight. She used me as much as I used her. Politics isn't unlike the army, Rosa. You must know something of what it's like to have so many men in positions over you. Jane was ambitious. She saw an avenue to the top and pursued that, with great zeal I might add. I hardly was taking advantage of her. She knew full well everything she was doing, and why she was doing it. Did she ever tell you why she continued the relationship even though she knew I was married? She had met my wife on a few occasions as well. It takes somebody heartless to do that.”
“Like you're the paragon of virtue,” Rosa said sarcastically.
“Oh, I'm quite aware of my faults, but I just want to make sure you're not blinded by all of Jane's little stories. The truth is far more complicated than that, and far more damaging to her. If you don't want to listen to me, that's fine, but the fact remains that we need a plan to get out of here. If you don't want to go back in the bunker, then where do you suggest we go?”
He looked to Rosa and Phil with a genuine smile, almost goading them to come up with a plan. Rosa fumed inside. A man like Frank was one of those who always landed on his feet. This time was different. Rosa wasn't going to let him have a way back in. He was alive by sheer fortune, but he wasn't in a position of power. Rosa was in command now, and she tried to think about how the world had changed.
She thought back to Steve and Don, how they had believed in a new world. Don wanted to see his baby born, to watch it grow and be a part of the world. Steve wanted to rise through the ranks and become an integral part of America's defense against its enemies. Neither of them wo
uld achieve their ambition. They had had lofty goals, and now that they were dead, Rosa was left adrift. Never had she harbored any grand ambitions for life. The only thing that mattered to her was survival.
All her life she had seen herself as a lone wolf, and only had joined the army because there was no other stable career. Yet, although she had resisted, she now found that Don and Steve had become a small family to her. Trying to bury her feelings was difficult, and it was far easier to be a callous loner than it was to actually care, but the army had unified them. When she first had reported for training she was told she was entering a family, a new group where strong bonds would form, carrying through her entire life. At the time Rosa had rolled her eyes and huffed, not believing a word of it, but now that she thought about her dead friends she knew it was true. Only the bonds wouldn't run through her entire life, because the two of them were dead.
The army was famed for its sense of brotherhood. Rosa had resisted it as much as she could, but somehow it had burrowed its way into her heart. Steve's goodness had rubbed off on her; the way he always wanted to do the right thing even though it sometimes meant playing into the hands of a dirty politician. Don's sweetness was there too. His love for his family, his need to be with them. Rosa often had scorned him and become annoyed with his whining, but now she felt regret. It was natural for people to want to be close to those they loved. Just because they dedicated their lives to their country didn't mean their hearts could be held prisoner.
Frank had asked her what the plan was, and she knew she had to come up with something, even if it was just so it didn't give Frank an avenue back to power. For someone who had spent her life drowning in nihilism, Rosa now was seeing a golden dawn in her soul. She was going to move forward, and she was going to fight for the friends she had lost. For the family she had lost. Her real family had done nothing for her. Her father had whacked her out of town and her mom had been a pitiful excuse for a caregiver. Steve and Don always had had time for her. The army had given her structure and a mission. It was important to take strength from that, so she decided to dedicate her life to them. She would try doing her best to fix the world and save people because it's what they would have wanted. Maybe one day she would find Don's sweetheart and tell her and his child about Don, and how there was nothing more he wanted than to get back to them.
