by Gideon Mills
The fight raged on around her. How much time passed Amita wasn’t sure; her unmodified arm began to tire. Luckily, the mods on her body kept going, and she continued to punch the men around her.
Amita saw Marcus, Sam, Ihor, and Nickolas were fighting close to her. Each of them was bruised and battered. Not too far away were Harry and Bishop. Both men were covered in the gore of the fight.
At the base of the ramp, they pushed upward. The Security Force members sounded an alarm. At the top, a line of tanks appeared, big massive vehicles with guns bigger than any Amita had ever seen.
As they started to roll down the ramp, the Security Force members backed up to them. The tanks lurched forward. The members intermingled with Resistance was the only thing keeping the tanks from firing.
Before Amita’s team could react, the members leaped into the air and out of the way of the tanks. With their modified legs, they could jump far and fast.
The Resistance were sitting ducks for the tanks, and they opened fire. The gun turret of the tanks shot shells bigger than Amita’s head. As they landed in the sea of the people that made up the Resistance, the shells exploded.
People went flying into the air. Some shrieked in pain. Others were dead, and parts of the bodies were flying in the air. The sight of it was the most horrific thing Amita had ever seen. Her stomach curdled. She wanted to vomit.
“Run!”
She wasn’t sure who said it, but she listened. Run. That was all she did. All she could think of. Next to her was Sam, and not far away was Ihor.
A hiss sounded around them. Then, a slug landed between Ihor’s feet. It exploded, ripping their friend to shreds. The force of the blast sent Sam and Amita flying in the air. The group landed some twenty feet away.
Sam jumped to her feet, screaming, “Ihor!”
She made a move to go to what remained of the man, but Amita grabbed her.
“Stop,” Amita said.
“I have to save him.”
If there had been something to save, Amita would have let her, but Ihor was dead. Gone. No more. Losing her friend hurt Amita. He had been one of the first people outside of Marcus and Sam to be nice to her. He had been Amita’s friend and never treated her like dirt.
Now, he was gone. Never mind how important he was. That didn’t matter. Amita’s friend was dead, and he was one of many.
The tanks continued to fire; Amita yanked Sam away and dragged her to the cars. Marcus appeared next to her.
They sprinted, and people helped each other back to their feet. Others carried the wounded. Try as Amita might, she didn’t have the strength to carry anymore. her body was too drained from the fight. Amita aided a few people back to their feet. It wasn’t enough, and she wished she could do more. The Resistance tried to not leave people behind. Amita hoped they got them all.
“Ihor?” Marcus asked. His question was barely audible, as her ears rang form the explosion.
Amita shook her head. Later, they would mourn together. Now, they ran for our lives. What the Resistance had achieved was now gone, lost with the arrival of these tanks that they had no way to fight.
At the cars, Nickolas was waiting. Nickolas ran fast with two modified legs. The car was running, and Nickolas got behind the wheel. For once, Amita was completely okay with that. He would get them out of there and quickly.
50
A fun talk
The ride back to the camp pained Marcus. His friend was gone. The Resistance had lost so many people. They had tried to save as many as they could, but with the tanks firing, it had been tough. Marcus had aided a few back to their feet, and they had wobbled away under their own power.
He had wanted to do more, but it was either save himself or die. The two choices weren’t the best, and Marcus wanted to live and fight another day.
The camp was in chaos. People were screaming and shouting about the failure. They were blaming everyone around them. How could they possibly know that Keres had tanks here? Part of the many rules in the New Republic was to reduce the number of vehicles like tanks.
It shouldn’t have surprised any of them that Keres had tanks. She probably had even more weapons that would kill them in a heartbeat. If that were the case, they would never win.
Jonathan ran from the command center, Marcus’s mother not far behind him. “What happened?” Jonathan asked.
“Tanks,” Nickolas said. “Big tanks.”
Cynthia crinkled her nose. “You’re kidding?”
“I wish,” Amita said.
Tears rolled down her face. Amita wasn’t taking the loss of Ihor well. Neither was Sam. Marcus feared Sam would never get over it. Ihor and Sam had bonded together and had been close. Marcus knew they had talked about a future together, seeing what it might bring. That had made Marcus happy. Now, thinking about it depressed him. His old college friend was gone. He’d never be here to help again.
“Where is Ihor?” Jonathan asked.
Every one of them hung their heads. They didn’t need to tell Jonathan. While Ihor wasn’t his son, Jonathan treated him as one. Marcus knew that the man would take it just as hard as they were.
Jonathan dropped to his knees. “No!”
Sam knelt down next to him. The young woman was crying too. Her face was puffy and red. Wiping away a tear, she hugged the man. “We tried, but the tanks…”
Jonathan didn’t say a word. He cried into Sam and she into him. Amita put her arm around Marcus, and he hugged her back. Both of them were in mourning over their loss. A friend. A man. A leader.
It hurt beyond words. Beyond comprehension. Marcus hadn’t lost anyone this close before. He knew that Ihor wasn’t the only one who had died, that a quarter or more of the people who’d fought with them had passed away today. That should make him sad too, yet it didn’t compare to the one Marcus knew the best. They all hurt. Each life was valuable, none truly more than another, but when that one was so close, it made it rawer. Tougher.
Bishop walked over. “I hate to interrupt.”
Jonathan cleared his throat and stood. “It’s all right. You have news?”
“Keres is trying to contact us. In the command tent.”
Jonathan nodded. “Very well. Let’s see what the vile woman wants.”
All of the group walked to the tent and entered. Ihor had helped to set it up. It wasn’t as impressive as the set up in Chicago, but it was still nice. In the center was a bank of monitors and computers. In the center one, a picture of Keres flashed, saying incoming call. This was the only computer connected to the Mara Corp network.
Jonathan answered, and Keres appeared on the screen. She wasn’t alone. Next to her was Marcus’s father. On the other side was the President of the New Republic.
“Keres,” Jonathan said.
“I see you survived,” Keres said.
“No thanks to you,” Sam said.
Marcus’s mother gave Sam a dirty look. This wasn’t the place for Sam to vent. That would come later.
Keres smiled. “The Resistance brought this on themselves.”
“You forced us,” Cynthia said. She was fierce in her tone. “You kidnapped my son.”
The president looked at Keres with questioning eyes. The Resistance still hadn’t been able to give any evidence of the experiments. It was Marcus’s and Sam’s word against Keres’s. The president would surely believe Keres.
Even if the president did believe the Resistance, it wouldn’t matter. The man would be too scared to do anything about it. Keres terrified him and pretty much the rest of the country. At least he didn’t know she was doing it. That gave Marcus some hope for the future, a future without Keres.
Keres gave that crooked smile. “We both know that is a lie. A false accusation. If you could prove it, you would have. We have seen all the videos you have sent out. Those were doctored to make the Mara Corp look bad.”
“Please,” Jonathan said. “You and I both know that was real. And those tanks today? Tanks are illegal.”
Keres
shrugged. “The president has given the Mara Corp the freedom to create experimental vehicles. What you saw was allowed by the president.”
The president didn’t look too happy. The man had been forced into allowing them.
Keres’s control angered Marcus. They couldn’t find a way to break her hold on the country. That was what the attack was supposed to have done, break Keres’s hold on Detroit. If they did that, the rest of the people would see her as weak.
The failure today, though, showed how strong she was. Keres’s grip would be even tighter now, and that infuriated Marcus.
“Believe what you like.” Keres was smug on the other end of the video call. She held herself high. The way she stood in her pristine clothes and perfect body. The mods she had were minor but enough to set her apart from the rest.
Marcus hated her with a passion. The way she looked down on the people around her. Even Marcus’s father wasn’t worthy of her. Her glances at him said as much.
Keres continued, “I called to offer you a chance at peace. The president is allowing a one-time deal.”
Marcus rolled his eyes. The president wasn’t part of this at all. He had said nothing the whole time. This was all Keres and her grandeur and letting people think they had real authority when they had none.
“Oh,” Marcus’s mother said. “What is this deal?”
“We will let you go. You can remain free, but you must no longer fight us. You will not be fugitives, but you cannot come back to Detroit. You will be banished from the city. And not just Detroit. Chicago, Saint Louis, and the rest.”
“Uh, if we can’t go to a city, where are we supposed to go?” Jonathan asked.
Keres shrugged. “That doesn’t matter to me. You get to live. Otherwise, if you attack again or refuse this deal, I will send the full force against you.”
Marcus closed his eyes. They couldn’t accept this. Keres wanted them to wither away and die a slow painful death out in the waste that separated most of the cites. They wouldn’t last long without the support of the cities.
“We reject your offer,” Cynthia said.
“Completely reject you and your proposal,” Jonathan said.
Keres’s nostrils flared, and she clenched her fist. Her anger rose quickly at the rejection. “You will regret this! Tomorrow, the Resistance is no more!”
The call ended.
The room was in stunned silence. Keres was going to kill them, and it was going to be tomorrow. A day to live. A day to run for their lives. That was the only option, the only way to live.
“We have to get out of here,” Marcus said. “We have to flee.”
Amita hung her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Never be sorry,” Marcus’s mother said. “This is on Keres. My son is right. Flee, then regroup.”
“Scatter?” Nickolas asked. “As many small groups as possible.”
Marcus didn’t like the idea of dividing up, but he knew that leaving and going in as many groups as possible would keep more people safe. It would force Keres to divide her forces, which would help save lives.
Jonathan tilted his head and rubbed his chin. “Cynthia?”
Marcus’s mother smiled. “I think it might be the best option.”
“Me too,” the leader of the Resistance said, “but I just don’t like it. Feels like we are giving up.”
It was Amita who stepped forward. “Don’t think of it as giving up. We separate, and each of us finds more resisters. We travel to the other cities spreading the word. We have access to the stuff Ihor did. Use that, and show the citizens what Keres did today. Rally the people. I know you were recording today. Display the tanks.”
Jonathan and Marcus’s mother looked at each other. Both were mulling it over, the idea of recruiting and running. It was a good plan, one that would help, and keep the remaining people here high on morale. Right now, it was at an all-time low. That needed to be fixed.
“But the people,” Sam said. “Will you tell them that Keres is out to kill?”
Jonathan nodded. “We will. We’ll let them choose the path they want. Run and hide or run and recruit.”
“Good,” Sam said.
51
Running for their Lives
That night, Jonathan used the system that Ihor had installed to talk to everyone. Marcus watched as he did. Running wasn’t going to be fun, but Marcus had been running since they left Detroit. This wasn’t going to be any different.
Amita and Marcus were going together. Before making this speech that would inform everyone, the leaders had had a long talk about the size of the groups. It was settled that the groups should be no bigger than ten, but even that would be recommended against.
Marcus refused to be separated from Amita again no matter how much his mother tried. His mother said that they would both draw the attention of a large group. It might be better for the rest, but Marcus was being selfish. For once, Marcus was going to be as selfish as possible. They had already been separated once. That was enough. Plus, the loss of Ihor was fresh, and he didn’t want to lose his friends already.
His group would have the people closest to him. Marcus, Nickolas, and Sam. They talked about asking Bishop and Anna and might still before they left. That was the max they would take. Marcus hoped beyond hope that Anna was okay, and the rest of the Resistance.
The room went silent, and Jonathan told the remaining Resistance of the plan. Around the camp, Marcus heard the people react in loud shouts and bangs. This wasn’t good.
“Six months from now,” Jonathan said. “Return to our original camp here. With as many people as you can recruit if you so choose. Otherwise, thank you. We shall prevail.”
The broadcast ended.
Silence.
Twenty minutes later, Amita and Marcus packed an SUV that held six comfortably. Anna and Bishop had agreed to join them. The group was heading to the east coast. Marcus wanted to go west, but they couldn’t. Too many would go that way.
“Keres knows that Marcus wanted to visit Saint Louis,” Cynthia said. His mother helped pack the vehicle for them. “You have to go east.”
Marcus groaned. “But most of the coast is in ruins.”
“Not all,” Bishop said. “We can start in Philly and make our way south.”
Amita nodded. “Okay. I just wish Ihor was with us.”
“So do I,” Marcus said. His voice was sad, and he appeared depressed. They both missed their friend.
“We all do,” Nickolas said. “He was a good man. Let us honor him by getting people to join. Regroup and fight again.”
It had been Amita’s idea, and none of them were sure if it was the right one. Marcus worried whether they would make themselves easy targets, with the Resistance going in small groups to cities that would have pictures showing them as traitors. They were going to be known as the people who had started, or tried to start, a civil war.
To the public at large, the Resistance would be little more than treasonous villains. They had been brainwashed by the Mara Corp. Changing their minds was going to be a tough slog. Marcus wasn’t sure we would be able to return with many recruits.
Marcus feared that this was in vain, that they would end up living the life that Keres wanted for them.
The group jumped in the SUV. Nickolas sat behind the wheel.
“Seriously?” Amita asked.
Marcus couldn’t help but laugh. Part of him was looking forward to the thrill of the bad driving. Keeping them on their toes.
“Hey,” Nickolas said. “I drive faster than any of you.”
“True,” Amita said.
“Let’s go,” Marcus said.
Amita closed her eyes and muttered a prayer. They were off on their next adventure, the next journey to save the New Republic. As daunting as that was, Marcus had some hope. He was with the people he loved, the woman he loved. That was all that mattered. Nothing else. Marcus leaned over and kissed Amita on the cheek as Nickolas made the SUV speed away.
Author Notes
Upgraded is a story that is close to my heart and something that I wanted to release for a while, but I had to make sure that it was just the right story. I hope that shows in what you have read. Each story I write is special, but this one is even more so. I hope that came through in the final story, and I know the two others for the planned trilogy will be just as special to me.
Also by Gideon Mills
Upgraded
Upgraded One
Paragons
Paragons: Gods and Superheroes
Paragons 2: Gods and Superheroes
Paragons 3: Gods and Superheroes
About the Author
Gideon Mills grew up in the Midwest in the 90’s. The X-Men animated show was his first introduction to superheroes, and the love continued on after.
One of Gideon’s greatest achievements was serving in the US Army.
Gideon loves watching MCU movies, DC TV shows, reading, running, and riding his mountain bike.
Contact me:
[email protected]
Acknowledgments
I wanted to take the time to thank a few people who helped make this book possible.
My editor, Merwie, did an amazing job with the book. Going above and beyond. Making sure that this story was the one I wanted. Thank you.