ONE NATION: A Post Apocalyptic, Dystopian Saga

by Michael W. Huard

One of the men, who had a somewhat dirty face and beard, was smoking a cigar. He took a few puffs to blow the smoke out towards the women for effect. He then stood up from a barrel he was sitting on and simply said out loud, “Oh, is that so?” He then added, “What shall I tell His Majesty? Shall it be that outside we have five little girls seeking shelter?”

  Chaya smiled at him. Paka gave him the evil eye.

  Chaya had already looked over the other four men. Each had firearms and looked to be people that could handle the weapons fairly well. This was no joke here. Could be deadly, she was thinking inside.

  She then answered the bearded fellow by stating, “You can tell him anything you want to tell him.”

  Old dirty face was the one smiling now. “Okay. Fair enough,” he replied.

  “I could do that if I wanted to. You do realize people call him a freak. He's as tall as a building and manipulative. Even wears mask over his face. I mean, it's terrifying. Are you sure you really want to go in there?”

  Paka then answered him, “Yes, dip shit, we've already been told about Torres. We want to go in there. Just open the friggin door.”

  Chaya and the girls could now feel sweat forming on their brows.

  One of the five men was surprised that her sudden tone had a spunky ring. He too was an Afro-American and already was up walking over to Paka.

  He was tall himself. Maybe six foot two. His head was shaved clean and he was muscular and had three big loop earrings in his left ear.

  His brown eyes focused on Paka. “Are you for real?” he asked.

  She seemed a bit taken aback by his question. “Yes, I'm real. What, did you think perhaps that I am a cyborg?” She grinned. “Sorry to disappoint you,” she added.

  “Well it's actually hard to tell these days,” he countered. “My name is Ozone and you guys must be the Mystical Slayers. Finally, in the flesh, I see. Oh, and as for you.” He looked at Paka. “I like you. You’re my type of chick. Anyway, what's up with the young girls?”

  Paka looked at the three youngsters with her and then back to Ozone.

  “That's none of your business.”

  Ozone grunted a bit and then looked to the bearded man. “What do you say, Jonesy? Should we let them in?”

  The bearded fellow seemed a bit surprised that Ozone was so easy on the new arrivals. The other men had rifles already pointed at the women.

  Jonesy scanned about. “I dunno,” he announced. “Can't we at least have the young ones and enjoy them for a bit for the price of admission?”

  “No,” Ozone replied. “We were told they were coming, and to let them in to see the man. Open the fucking doors.”

  Jonesy hesitated.

  “Do it!” Ozone yelled.

  Paka got a little closer to Ozone and then whispered to him, “Thanks, good looking. But just so you know, I like women.”

  He smiled at her. “It’s my pleasure, and I too like women!”

  The five women were then let into the building. They were taken down the corridor and then to a bigger chamber. Inside, sitting on a large Victorian-like throne chair, sat a man with a strange skull mask on. He was dressed in a sleek gray suit and had a black velvet tie around his neck. He raised his arm up as the ladies came forth. They saw his hand was definitely bionic and metal constructed.

  It was time now to weaken the Corporation’s numbers by fully calling into effect all the allied forces that he sisterhood and Governor Jerry Bends had built up through the years.

  Tyne Gem was on it. She immediately sent the needed signals to those that could help. The representatives in California, including Brock Jones and Ella Von Stybeck, had already asked President Purcell to come to them in person. It appeared the westerners were finally ready to concede to him. All knew he would not pass up this opportunity for new allies and it would be expected he would be accompanied by some of the elite watch dogs of the Y-Wood Corporation.

  President Purcell found it odd that after such a request out west, his former flame, the now so-called Governor of Washington, had also asked for his presence there too.

  He had to choose one or the other at the moment.

  It wasn't a few hours later when word was delivered to him from his secretary, Tessa Zune, that several of the sisterhood's members had arrived in New York and she knew exactly where they were. She lied about their whereabouts, of course.

  That was a lot to be done, many deadlines to be met. But for now, he took a break and was getting ready for his early dinner with the prisoner Raegan James.

  Tessa brought him a clean and ironed white shirt and a dark grey suit, hoping she might be able to get more information from him and see what his plans were for upcoming travel.

  She hesitated after delivering the clothing, waiting to see what he mentioned about his plans.

  “Was there something else?” The president asked.

  She shook her head no. Yet she still lingered before him. He then opened up some. “I'm going to send you out as an emissary. There's a lot going on right now. We’re on the brink of total compliance from the rebels. Y-Wood is poised for even more great success soon.”

  “I understand, sir,” she replied, listening closely.

  “I need you to go to California and settle for nothing less than those idiots’ forgiveness and admission that they were wrong all along, and that they will fall under our laws from here on out. If they give you a hard time, tell them we will annihilate them if need be. I'm done fucking around.”

  Tessa found it interesting that she, the one-time interim president, who was always just considered a secretary, was now being put in such a diplomatic role. She actually liked it.

  Perhaps it’s a sign of things to come? she thought.

  She, however, was hoping she didn't have to go far, knowing very well there was action going on here with the sisterhood's top leaders in cells, and those seeking to break them out perhaps coming here soon.

  She would have to use Della as her extended arm in that case, as it now appeared.

  “So I am to go to those people alone, sir?” she asked, raising a fake eyebrow.

  “Yes. I will send with you several Ruthies, and a few associates so that you may get them to agree to everything. We have no time to wait on this. They are revealing all and we have them right where we want them.”

  Chancellor Zune nodded her head okay. If that's what he really wanted, she would do just that. It wasn't an hour later that she had boarded one of the Corporation's main ships and, with a bevy of troops, she flew to California.

  After dinner, the president himself would make a trip as well. He would be the one personally to go to Washington D.C. Old Jerry was, as it looked, finally ready to concede.

  It was almost time for dinner, but President Purcell still has more on his plate.

  As for the women of the sisterhood now on land in New York, he would send one of his robots and many soldiers to track them down. He still hadn’t decided if he would take Galax or perhaps BSR1 with him to Washington?

  The other would be in charge of capturing or killing the sisterhood members he had been told were in New York.

  The final decision could wait, he decided, still thinking too much. It was draining him at the moment.

  He was ready now for dinner and made his way to the dining hall, waiting for Raegan to arrive.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The man in the large, old Victorian chair stood up. He was nearly seven feet tall and slim, leaning on a cane-like device that surely was a weapon of some sort.

  He then asked, “Would you like me to remove my bone mask? You may not be that pleased at what you see beneath it. The experiments on me were, shall I say, painful.”

  Chaya immediately shook head that it was not necessary.

  “That's not the reason we've come here. We've come to ally with you in hopes of setting us up in a place where we can infiltrate the Empire State Building. I mean, when the time is right. We have been told you have the connections to do that, so we need your he
lp. And as for your face, the things Y-Wood does has never appealed to me or any of my sisters.”

  “Hummmm.” The tall man sighed, loud and long. “Let me just say there is no way I can place each of you in in a perfect position to enter that mega building safely. First thing you’ll need is to split into smaller groups.”

  There was a slight mumbling amongst the five women.

  Torres now walked closer with a slight dragging of his right leg and came before each of the women, walking a line across them, taking a closer look at each.

  He came to Paka first. “I like your bushy hair,” he announced. “You’re a fierce fighter. That can help, I think. You have strong muscles, and I see fire in your eyes.”

  Next, he came to the Native American, Naiera. She too had that fire in her eyes, but was young. “You’re just a kid,” he said to her. “But determined, are you not?”

  “Don’t let my age fool you,” she answered.

  The tall man laughed a little at her reply.

  Then he was before Sun. She too was rather young. “Another young one,” he called out. “But then again, you know what they say about redheads.”

  Sun gave him a faint smile. Torres then asked, “Do you know what they say about redheads?” He laughed at his odd humor.

  The young lady in front of him gave him a wicked grin. “I do know. It is said that they’re wild and cannot be tamed. And when they put their mind to something, nothing can stop them. Oh, and most people think they're just a wee bit crazy.”

  Torres nodded, liking her zest.

  He then stepped next to Chaya. “I know of you. You have been going about, speaking the ways of democracy in your own words throughout the states. You have a good reputation. You believe in civil justice and have this big vision of a brighter, greener, better tomorrow.”

  Chaya was about to say something but he stepped before Karma next.

  The long black-haired Asian American girl with a tattoo on her forehead and a streak of unique white in the aforementioned hair interested him most.

  Torres took his bionic metal arm and twirled the white part some. “You’re a smart one, are you not?” he asked with a grin.

  Karma resisted answering.

  The tall man turned and went back slowly to his throne chair.

  “We'll split you into two groups,” he explained. “My men will assist you; we will get you inside or as close as possible to the Empire State Building. And when the time comes, you may make your move. I warn you, nothing will be easy. You will all be in danger.”

  He rolled his neck some and then added, “Now let us discuss the price this will cost you for my help.”

  Chaya frowned.

  She was not happy and right away asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”

  The demonic bone mask on Torres face now got adjusted some as he again rolled his neck about. “I have faced much scrutiny in my life. They took my arms and legs from my body and replaced them with more than one mechanical device that failed time and time again. They tried to skin graph my face to become a camera system, which failed miserably as well. I have very little flesh there from these experiments. But here I am, a double-crossing spy, working for the Corporation and now helping those that defy them. You can imagine I would desire something in return.”

  “Just tell us!” Paka called out.

  Torres again sighed loudly.

  “Through all the pain and the things that were done to me, I've gotten stronger in mind and in body, thus manipulating their failures into becoming my power. Yet in truth, I have never had children of my own. You must give me one of yours. One of the three young ones before me here. She will be my daughter. You will do as I command, or I will not help you.”

  Many of his soldier in the room readied their guns, waiting to hear what the leader woman would say.

  “Absolutely not!” Chaya said immediately, without hesitation.

  Torres then flicked his hand towards the doorway announcing, “Then go.”

  But before anyone said anymore, Karma called forth, “I'll do it. If it's the only chance we have for you helping us free Raegan and Jansa, I'll do it.”

  Paka immediately shook her head no.

  Sun was already grabbing Karma by her wrist to hold her in place. She looked at her sister. “We have been through too much for you to do this.”

  Karma nodded. “It’s okay. You have to save them. I'll be okay. Promise me one thing, though. The sisterhood must look into the island I have been talking about.”

  Chaya was lost in emotions at this sudden situation.

  They had no choice, really. Torres was the only person that could help them. Time was running out.

  The pain in Raegan's foot was almost unbearable. It took everything she had to focus her energy and thoughts away from the pain. The nails were embedded deeply in the soles of her feet as she entered the dining hall before President Purcell.

  Her feet and her hands were tied high up, shackled tightly she hobbled in, step by step, to where the president sat at the far end of a long black lacquered table.

  She tried to hide the pain, creeping forward and then being forced to sit down by BSR1.

  The black robot then announced. “As you commanded, sir. Raegan James, the notorious leader of the Q-Jin.”

  President Purcell grinned.

  Two clone associates were also in the room. Each now went to her side.

  She also spotted in the far corner, hiding almost in the shadows, the blue and silver super bot Galax. He just stood there with his big arms crossed.

  “Well, I have to say,” the president now stated, “you look nice in that blue dress with your hair all done. There's no denying, Miss James, aka the former reporter for Re-Bel News, that you’re an attractive woman. One that is said to be fairly intelligent. Let us hope that these conversations we’re about to have will trigger your brain to do the right thing.”

  Raegan sat, silent.

  “I actually know very little about your sisterhood.” the man across from her said, continuing the conversation which she really wanted no part in.

  “You see, there have been a series of presidents that have represented the Y-Wood Corporation. I am by no means any more special than those who came before me. Most of those came from the same family lines, but as for me, I was just thrown into this position. So forgive me if I have not done my research.”

  It was then that a female clone, one fully Chinese and wearing a kimono of red, black, and gold, entered the room with a tray of goblets filled with white wine. She placed a tall glass before Raegan and then made way to give the president one.

  “Thank you!” Nodding, the president looked over at Raegan. “Go ahead. Please feel free to indulge yourself. It is a splendid vintage.”

  His prisoner just frowned. She was shackled and could barely move, let alone drink wine.

  “Anyway, it is said that a woman named Metaya traveled the country doing research and seeking information so she could put together a band of women to lead a revolution against the government.”

  Reagan shook her head in disgust. “What government do you speak of?” she suddenly blurted out. “A dictatorship of men who have money and power and who couldn’t care less about the people?”

  President Purcell smiled. “Well, it is good that she at least talks.”

  Again, Reagan frowned.

  Purcell kept talking. “To add to what I was saying, it is historically known that the woman's daughter died by means of the Corporation. She held great revenge in her heart, thus seeking out those that could make her group more knowledgeable, and grow. This drive was in lieu of making those pay for the death of her daughter. You see, Raegan. It’s all based on revenge.”

  He paused a bit to drink his wine. After placing the glass down upon the table, he looked at the prisoner, waiting to see what she had to say.

  It was then she implied that he knew nothing about what he was talking about.

  “You cannot save the world, woman,” he
then explained. “It’s too late for that. The changing wars have broken it. Global warming destroyed what once was. It’s survival of the fittest now. We have to win the war against other countries or we too will overgrow as a nation. We too will become like the weeds that coat the highways and structures everywhere.”

  “More wrongs don’t make what you’re doing right,” The Mystical Slayers’ leader said to him, still in great pain.

  “It’s all a pipe dream. Let me let you in on what's happening today. We have already been told that some of your members have arrived in New York. It's only a matter of time before we discover where they are stationed overall. BSR1 has told me that your sister…what is her name? Jansa? Well, she will be the first casualty unless we put an end to this nonsense. You people have cost us a fortune.”

  “Good,” Reagan called out.

  President Purcell, looking sharp in his gray suit and spiked silver hair, now stood up. He walked closer to his guest. “Let me just say, as I have told you before, prisoners-of-war to me are all the same. I am willing to barter for Jansa’s life with you. It's in your hands now.”

  Reagan, still hurting, battered and bruised, saw his ego was in full throttle now.

  He was not finished mocking her just yet. There was a pause in their conversation and soon he yelled out, “Does the cat have your tongue? I AM NOT AMAN OF PATIENCE!” he added.

  She would not speak the words he so wanted to hear. If he knew where all the sisters where, he could finally be done with them.

  He was getting frustrated.

  “Your sisters believe that some ancient story book will guide you onward. Do you not? I refer to it as a whole lot of crap. Tell me everything, woman. You have one last chance right now!”

  Reagan would not reveal anything to him even still.

  It was then that a duo of rolling bots came into the chamber, directed by BSR1.

  They appeared to have various cutting and odd devices in their hands, and before Raegan could move, one such device was clamped around her neck, holding her in place, firmly against the back of the tall chair she sat in.