by Ned Sahin
I hear the basement door opening. I hope they are bringing good news. Maybe they have decided to issue a warning and let us go or a lawyer shows up to defend our rights. I hope they at least bring some food and water.
Three militias walk down with two people in front of them. They pass by our cell and stop in front of a cell on the other side of the corridor. I hear the two new people yelling to militias and resisting them from entering the cell.
“Wait for me here…” I tell Kathleen. This is our chance to do something. Maybe it’s our last chance.
I slowly put her head above her arm on the floor. I walk to the front of the cell while trying to avoid stepping on the arms and legs of people we spent the night with very close to each other. One of them looks up to me as if trying to figure out my intention.
The three militias walk back from the other side of the corridor. I have a better look at them as they get closer. They are different from the ones I saw yesterday. I hoped to see the same militia I told Crypto about, but he is not among them.
Two of them walk in front. The third one is following them a few steps behind.
“Hey,” I yell to the militia walking behind. He looks at me. I wait for him to get closer.
“I had a vaccine shot, and it works! I know where a stash of bottles is. Take me to your boss,” I say.
He smirks. “Really?” he says sardonically. I show the bump and needle bruise on my wrist.
“How do you think I am still healthy even though I spent the entire night right next to her.” I gesture to Kathleen.
The smile on his face replaces with confusion in his eyes as he glances from Kathleen to me.
“Wait here.” He walks fast to catch the other two militias. They talk while looking at me and Kathleen. Then they walk back to our cell.
“Where did you find it?” another militia asks. I am not sure if they are personally interested in this information or they want to report it to their superior.
“In Salt Lake City. There was this museum explosion. It was a mess. I stole those bottles in the chaos… Then I buried them before the protest,” I say.
“To where?” the same militia asks as he leans forward and tilts his head down. He is staring at my eyes while waiting for the million-dollar worth of information.
“I’ll only say it to your boss,” I say.
He leans back. They share a look with each other. The one who I first spoke with signaled another member to unlock the cell.
“She has to come with me.” I point to Kathleen.
“No,” he says.
“I am not going anywhere then.” I walk back to the corner. I hear him sigh behind me.
One of them walks to the basement door while the other two militias keep waiting in front of our cell. He comes back with a white cloth in his hand.
I help Kathleen get into the protective suit. The prisoners who are awake watch us as they try to understand what’s going on.
“Please, try,” I say to Kathleen. I get under her left arm and grab her back with my right arm. She leans her weight against me while she could hardly take steps forward.
“What about us!” the guy sitting on the other side of the cell yells. He stands up and walks after us.
“Go back!” One of the militia men pulls his baton out.
The prisoner lifts his hands in the air, but he doesn’t step back. I turn to him and try to look as friendly as possible.
“We will come back for you…for everybody,” I whisper. He glances at me for a moment. Then he turns to the militia.
“Okay… Okay, dickhead.” He sits back on the floor.
They take us to the second floor. We walk through a series of desks with other militias working behind. It looks like a police station except for the annoying new state flag with a roaring bear in front of crossed shotguns.
Other militias give Kathleen weird looks. This is probably their safe zone. Seeing people in protective gear might be unusual to them.
We stop in front of a wooden door. I hear people yelling inside.
“…. and you couldn’t stop them there? With all the weapons you had?” a man yells.
“Sir… There is mo…” Another man can’t finish his sentence.
“Shut up! It’d be a lot easier if they were wiped up in the desert! I can’t believe this!” the man yells. Then we hear silence for a few seconds. A third man says something, but I can’t figure out what. For some reason, his voice sounds familiar. Is it Crypto’s voice? Or maybe he is someone I heard at the protest.
We continue to wait in front of the door.
“Mr. Highland is here?” one of the militias waiting with us asks another one. He nervously shakes his hands. Another militia impatiently moves his eyes from left to right while stretching his ear lobe. “We should come back later,” he says while turning his back to the door. They grab our arms to drag us with them through the hallway.
I hear the door opening behind us. We all turn our heads back to see who is coming out of the room.
Three men appear from the room. The one in front of them tilts his head up slowly after opening the door. He freezes as soon as he sees me.
Others glance at him and me to determine why he stopped.
For a split second, everything and everybody becomes dead silent. Time slows down. The air circulation pauses. I can hear my heart beating.
The man in a darker uniform, who looks flossier than others, with stars on his shoulders and a bright roaring bear pin on his chest…
The man who rules the West that is now called the Highland Republic…
The man who is famous for his cruel punishments and tortures…
The man who is hated by millions and referred to as a monster…is my brother.
Chapter 42
“Father is alive. He is at UC Davis Hospital,” my brother says. He takes another breath from his cigar behind his executive desk. He briefly looks at the capital’s skyline through the window of his penthouse office.
I lean forward in my chair and take my head between my hands. This is the only good news I’ve had in months.
“Fighting with the virus?” I raise my head and glance at him.
“Yes… He is going through a special treatment with a mix of drugs. Kathleen will have the same care,” he says. It sounds like he is trying to prove that he still has a good side.
“And mom?” I ask nervously. I am afraid of the answer I may hear.
He puts his cigar on the ashtray and lets a deep breath out before locking his grieving eyes at me.
“She couldn’t make it… It was when the second wave hit. She went to the grocery store and never came back…” He shakes his head while I continue to stare at him. My brain ignores what my ears heard.
His eyes fill with tears as he repetitiously combs his hair back with his fingers—a habit he does when he is having an emotional moment.
“I couldn’t convince her to stay home… We ran out of food. She left home very early and left a note for us…”
That must be the time she left that envelope for me. She must have felt that she won’t be able to come back.
I let myself shed tears. My heart feels heavy. The grief pulsates through my veins and forces me to dive into unfathomable darkness.
I would have expected nothing less from my mom. She always put the family before herself.
We sit in silence as we are both out of words.
Somebody knocks on the door.
“Later!” My brother yells.
“Sir, code six!” The man behind the door says.
My brother wipes his tears and takes a few sips from his water. “Come in,” he says while fixing his hair. Two militias enter the room with documents and a map in their hands. With the flags and signs on their chests, they look like high-level commanders of the militia force.
They pause as soon as they see me. Then they look at my brother Barry.
“You can talk,” Barry
says. The militia commanders nod their heads and walk to each side of his desk. One of them lays the map in front of him.
“They have overrun our Nevada checkpoints. We are preparing a new frontline in Tahoe,” one of the commanders says with a slight trembling in his voice.
“Who?” I ask.
He glances at my brother who nods. “Ricas,” the commander says, turning to me.
I roll my eyes to the floor. They must have run from Salt Lake City all night long. With their endless energy, they are practically unstoppable. A few militias at checkpoints probably had no chance against them.
Barry huffs as he leans back and forth in his chair, “How many?” He is trying to control his anger, but his lips are quivering.
The commander pinches the bridge of his nose for a few seconds before speaking. “A big horde of them… Hundreds… Maybe thousands,” he says while trying to avoid eye contact with Barry. “And they keep adding new members, including bears…” the other commander says.
Barry and I stare at him. My mind races as I try to absorb what he said. It sounds like the bear in the California flag decided to attack California with his gang. They must have contacted the Ricas or the Oxrica itself somewhere.
Barry takes another breath from his cigar. Then he tilts his head to see the map closer.
“How far is General Taylor?” he asks.
“Two hours away from us, sir,” one of the commanders says.
“Mobilize the third legion. I want them to join Taylor’s forces on the way to Tahoe. If the Tahoe defense falls before they arrive, I want them to set up a new perimeter at Kingvale. No need to waste more time and resources for losers,” Barry says, then he points to the door.
He has just ordered the frontline militias to be abandoned if they can’t hold the defense longer.
“Yes, sir!” both commanders say in unison as they salute. They walk out of the room and close the door.
“How do you like your new life?” I ask. I can imagine the judgmental look on my face. He takes his time answering my question.
“You know that I can’t keep this land together If I don’t show strength. They have to fear to obey.”
“Is leaving innocent protestors to die in a dungeon how you show strength?” I ask.
“It starts as peaceful before becoming a coup.”
I don’t wait for him to say another word. I slam my palms onto his desk. “A coup is made against an elected government. All I know is you are a dictator, and they want democracy!”
“Democracy my ass! I stood out for the weak and restored the order when everyone else ate steaks and hid their big butts in their fancy bunkers!” He stands up and puts his fists on the desk while leaning toward me.
I stand up too. “Was the opponent general you tortured to death with rats hiding in one of those bunkers? How about those poor people you use as slaves in your factories? Were they eating steaks? What about innocent people you keep in Alcatraz as hostages to make their families work for you? Alcatraz is their fancy bunker?” I can’t believe how he manipulates his own logic to convince himself he is doing the right thing.
He opens his mouth to respond, but he changes his mind and stays silent. He walks to the side of the room and looks through the window. He then turns back to me.
“Look, Matt. My methods may not be the most peaceful ways of governing… We can discuss morals all day long, but we have more serious problems in front of us. Ricas are on our border to eat us alive! Saviors are preparing for a nuclear attack against the West. Our supply chains broke after Mexico and Canada went dark. If I step down, everybody goes down!”
I decide to continue the previous discussion another day.
“What is going on with Saviors?” I ask. I know that they invaded the entire East and started growing toward the inner states.
“They claim to be the official government by using one of the last congressmen as a puppet president. They think the Highland Republic revolted against the United States!” He throws his fist against his other palm.
“Since that shithead became the vice region leader, all they think about is to wipe us out,” he continues.
“Who? Who is the vice region leader?” I ask.
“That… Leyton guy… Leyton Fucker or something like that. He will go on flames when I burn down the entire East!”
I can’t believe what I am hearing. That idiot Leyton Fowler managed his way from cabin thief to vice region leader. What is next? Vice president?
“I know him…” I say and Barry’s confused eyes lock with mine. “Remember I was reading doomsday survival books? I found out that the best tactic is to team up with others. I met him online to bug out to a cabin together. Everything was going well until he claimed the cabin for all himself!” Recalling that day, I grind my teeth.
“Well, at least we have a common enemy,” he says.
“You don’t have to destroy half of the country to defend yourself. You just need to take Leyton down,” I say. If he is sure that Leyton is the mastermind of the war plans against the West, a targeted plan could save thousands of lives.
“You think we couldn’t think about it? He has an army around him.”
“I know his weak point… Give me a plane and a group of well-trained soldiers. I will bring him without harming anyone else.” I pace the room while forming a strategy in my mind.
“Take what you need. I will authorize you at commander level,” he says. He seems completely threatened by the Saviors. If they make the rest of the country believe they are the official government, and if they have control of the nuclear silos, he is right to be frightened.
“But If I bring him, I want you to promise liberating factories and emptying Alcatraz…and having an election after the Ricas are gone,” I say.
He laughs. “You really haven’t changed, Matt. Always pragmatic. Always thinking about the long-term.”
I ignore his comment and continue to stare at him to figure out his thoughts about my demands.
“I will change how things work. You got it,” he says. He makes a phone call and orders his adjutant to provide everything I request for my trip to the East.
“I need one more thing…” I say before leaving the room. “I want to see my dad.”
Chapter 43
The country has never looked this dark before.
After taking off from Sacramento’s McClellan Airport, we saw some lights in the Republic towns. After leaving the California border, all we have seen below us is a dark flat surface.
Life won’t be restored in this land for a long time, and it will stay in the dark unless Ricas start using lights during their hunts.
I leave the cockpit and go back to my seat in the back of the military cargo plane. I walk between three black Chevrolet Suburbans locked in the middle and a tactical team sitting on the side. They are pre-apocalypse SWAT and SEAL soldiers who think the Highland Republic is the successor of the US Government.
While walking by the SUVs, I glance over the Saviors logo on their hoods. I thought I would never see this logo again. I also thought I’d never in a million years be flying back to North Carolina with ten special ops soldiers and a militia commander who are determined to take down one of the most powerful men in the East—Leyton Fowler.
Our plan is to bring him with us back to Republic so my brother can use him as leverage to stop the massive war on the horizon. If things don’t go as planned, we have a kill order. Even this would work in our favor.
My brother wanted to use a bigger force to invade Washington, DC, and unite the nation one more time for good. However, I was able to convince him for a black op to remove a player from the equation instead of starting a full-scale war.
Leyton has a family tradition that is hopefully still happening. He and his family have lunch after church every Sunday. Thinking about how strict his parents are about their decades-old routine, we are likely to find them at their restaurant today.
&nb
sp; “Four hours to go, sir. Get some rest,” Captain Burn says. Barry told me that I can trust him and his team. The question I have is: how much I can trust my brother?
We went to UC Davis Hospital after our conversation in his office. My dad is held in a quarantined room with numerous devices around his bed to keep him alive. It was an unforgettable moment seeing him again. He was awake, but he couldn’t talk because of the tube going into his lungs. The tears fell from his eyes when he saw me, then he told me everything I needed to hear.
I stayed at a guest room on the same floor that night and checked on him through the window every few hours. I spent the next day at the hospital and before leaving for the airport.
Kathleen is being taken care of in the same hospital. She is in slightly better condition, but the fight has just started for her. The doctor said the virus hasn’t spread to all of her lungs. Considering she is younger and doesn’t have chronic issues, this treatment will likely get her healthier soon.
I can trust my brother at least for taking good care of my dad and Kathleen. I will see if he keeps his promise about ending cruelty and moving toward democracy after this operation. I am assuming that the operation will be a success. If it does, it will be remembered as what prevented the second Civil War in the country.
I told my brother about Murray’s bunker and kids who are abused there. Even though Barry uses cruel ways to rule his people, he is always overprotective when it comes to children. He promised me to send a team of militias to rescue the kids from Murray and his sons.
Grabbing my backpack from the floor, I put it on my lap and rest my head on it. I will need to sleep as much as I can to be ready for the day ahead. The day that will change the course of history.
When I open my eyes, the plane is flying lower. We must be close to Charlotte Douglas International Airport. The captain approaches me by holding on the ceiling rail to keep his balance in the shaky cargo cabin.
