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Three Sons

Page 3

by Saxon Keeley


  “Put it down you idiots,” he barked. “It is probably contaminated.”

  His men look at him like a group of school children caught in the act. Pretending to put the bottles back, they wait for him to turn around before continuing their petty bickering. Fed up with the lack of discipline, the commander scans the surrounding buildings, not wanting to be caught off guard while he cracks the whip.

  The CERE commander stares directly through the scope and for a second Sun Ren is convinced he has seen her. Her trigger finger trembles. She needs to get this just right, to allow her team to take aim so they can quickly pick off the scouts before they can call for reinforcements.

  “It’s a trap,” yelled the commander, instantly followed by a single blast from one of the derelict factories.

  The CERE scouts panic as a volley is sent their way. The glass bottles shatter and the precious water is lost. Uncertain where exactly they are being shot at, the CERE dart for the nearest cover, all feeling foolish that they didn’t heeded their commander’s warning.

  Sun Ren’s attack had not gone according to plan. Through her scope, she counts only three of the scouts’ dead and the commander seems to have wriggled off to safety. She pulls back the bolt and loads her next round. Behind a concrete pillar, she spies a scout with his elbow peeking out into the open.

  The bullet clips the joint, the force is enough to splinter the rest of the bone. He holds his arm and screams, coming out from cover just long enough for Sun Ren to pull off her second shot. Four down, she counts.

  Next to her, a child, no more than eleven years old, readies the next handful of rounds from the belt around his shoulder. Ducking under the window, he places them into Sun Ren’s hand. She thanks him with a wink.

  “Two of them have made it inside the factory,” one of the resistance members called out to their leader.

  Sun Ren leaves her position to cut off the CERE before they have a chance to flank her squad. She sprints from collapsed staircases to holes in the floor, trying to find them. Sensing she may have just missed them, she jumps down ready to engage the soldiers.

  Without thinking she blasts away the first soldier. At such close range, the power of her rifle makes a horrific mess of the young man’s face. Five down.

  Needing to pull back the bolt, Sun Ren throws a kick at the other scout. With the enhanced strength from the exoskeleton, he is sent flying into the wall, knocking his head. Just to be sure he never gets back up, she puts a bullet between the eyes. Six down.

  From the ground floor, she peers out from cover and tries to spot her targets. Blood sprays from behind some rubble as her squad takes number seven down. There is a small cheer from above. Even she cannot forgo savouring the jubilations of her team.

  Two resistance members, searching for supplies in the nearby area, had heard the breakout of gunfire. Though there was a disagreement of whether they should investigate or not, one promised the other that they would only check out the skirmish and if it was too dangerous they would simply return to base and not mention it to anybody. But when they saw that there were only two CERE soldiers left fighting, they decided to finish off the fight themselves.

  Eight. Nine.

  Unsure of where those shots were fired from, Sun Ren steps out from the dark and onto the battlefield to find two scruffily dressed men waving from atop the storehouse on the opposite side of the street. The other resistance members call back and thank them for the assist. Sun Ren however is eager to find the commander.

  On his knees, the CERE commander is hunched over, bleeding from a gaping hole in his chest. It is a wonder that he can even still breathe, let alone repeatedly splutter the same thing over the coms. At first the ramblings sound nothing more than gibberish, then she realises he is sending the CERE their coordinates.

  Sun Ren takes a step back and raises her rifle. Staring up through the scope, he continues to relay his message. Her finger is firm on the trigger.

  Ten down, she counts.

  There is not even the opportunity to pillage the dead before their leader orders them to huddle up. Already they can hear the chants of the approaching CERE soldiers. The small group of resistance fighters do not have long until they are completely overrun.

  Sun Ren takes a seat on the rubble and the child climbs up next to her. She keeps his spirts up with a playful head-butt. They share a smile that would ordinarily only be seen between family members. She then inspects her squad. Most of them weren’t part of the Neo-Shanxi Army. They don’t have armour to protect them, or the training to survive combat. But each of them have a strength of spirit that reassures her Shanxi will endure.

  “There is not much time. If we all leave now there is a risk that we lead the CERE back to base. I will stay and buy you all time,” she instructed, not expecting anyone to refute her order.

  Climbing back up into the factory, Sun Ren takes her position by the window. She lines up the bullets and gathers the few hand grenades left along the frame. She watches the end of the street, waiting for it to begin.

  “Fūrén,” said the boy, holding out another grenade he had stored away.

  The small resistance group all take back their places, loading their weapons, ready to die fighting alongside their leader.

  Weishi Jung

  Another patient hollers, writhing in agony on a mattress on the floor of what used to be a nightclub. Supplies are low and there are not enough painkillers to just hand out. The alcohol that hasn’t already been raided by the CERE is all that is left to numb their pain. Every day more come crawling to the door, but every day there is less in the way they can offer them.

  Around Weishi’s arm she wears the Red Cross. All the women tending to the sick and injured wear the same band. It is the only thing that protects them from the soldiers. The shelter was established by a Westerner Weishi knew personally from the Assembly, and thanks to her Weishi has manage to evade detection from the occupying forces.

  A year has passed since she saw Nicholas and Jessica, leaving them with their auntie as she headed out to work for the day. The last thing she remembers doing is kissing them goodbye. News reached her that evening of their arrest and transfer to the Political District. She hasn’t heard of them since.

  Weishi dabs a cold towel on the forehead of a young man who has recently had a bullet extracted from his leg. They found him dragging himself through the streets not far from the shelter. He promises that he is not part of the resistance and was injured in the crossfire.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he said deliriously. “The last piece of heaven left in this forsaken city.”

  She tuts and rolls her eyes. Black with dirt, Weishi folds the towel in the opposite direction and cleans his face.

  “What would your girlfriend say if she knew you were talking to strange women like this?” she joked.

  “If I knew your name, then you would not be strange,” he persisted, his fever burning up.

  “Iris,” she lied. “Iris Tsang.”

  “A pleasure to meet you Miss Tsang.”

  “Rest now,” she instructed, leaving his bedside.

  In the kitchen, Weishi throws the blacked towel in the basket with rest of the ever-growing pile of laundry. Cloth and garments are thick with dirt, blood or other fluids. It does not seem likely that any of it will be cleaned soon. The weight of seeing that young man suffer brings home the reality of their situation. Weishi tries to wipe away the tears before they can run.

  Hearing a rustling of a packet, she realises she is not alone in the room. On a stool by the apron hangers, a beautiful young girl sits with a bag of dried fruit. The occupation has not dulled the girl’s spirited temperament.

  “It is always hard when they are like that,” she empathised. “Sorry, I overheard when I left for my break.”

  Weishi leans against the worktop and tries to fix herself up. “There is too much hardship, for everyone.”

  The girl nods in agreement.

  A book
sits on the table next to her. Surprised to see an actual paper book outside of the Political District or the Imperial Gardens, Weishi asks if she can see it. The book is in good condition and a rare copy of a dark period of China’s history.

  “A girl, who was here some months ago now, gave it to me as a thank you,” she explained. “She said she recognised me from when I used to sing here. I have not really had the chance to read it yet.”

  “I imagine,” Weishi muttered. “I am sure…” she stopped herself, realising the insensitivity of raising people’s hopes in a place like this, “I am sure it is a profound read.”

  Handing back the book, Weishi offers her a smile to break the tension.

  “You always use a different name,” confronted the girl. “Today you have decided to use my name.”

  Weishi looks around embarrassed.

  “Sorry, I am not very inventive when it comes to that sort of thing.”

  “I do not mind. Some of us figured out who you are. You do not need to worry. Your secret is safe here,” said Iris.

  “Thank you,” she said relieved. “I will ask next time I steal someone else’s name.”

  Screams of nurses and volunteers come from the main room, quickly followed by a few warning shots and creatures barking. The two of them look at one another, deciding what they should do. If they join the women in the main room, they are putting themselves between the soldiers and the patients. But to hide and be found would have severe implications.

  The Western woman in charge of the shelter spreads her arms wide, blocking the path of the CERE commander and the strange soldier in black and blue who accompanies him. While the commander deals with her, the rest of his units walk right passed, pulling the young men from their beds. Those who cannot stand are simply dragged across the floor. Some of the brave nurses throw themselves over the men, protesting they are not part of the resistance.

  “This is a Safety Zone, you cannot come in here,” the Western woman cautioned the commander. “You see this cross, you are in violation of…”

  Before she can finish her sentence the soldier whose armband has two dogs, just like the two beasts by his side, grabs the back of her head and in one abrupt yanking motion brings her to her knees. Dogs fires his pistol at the ceiling, getting everyone’s attention.

  “There have been reports of this shelter harbouring criminals and soldiers who directly challenge the constitutional alliance between the CERE and the Delta-Nine Assembly. This Safety Zone’s neutrality has been compromised. The orders are to execute on sight.”

  CERE soldiers around the room raise their weapons and follow through with the order. Systematically the young male patients are shot at point-blank range. Those who could not be removed from their beds are killed in them. The young man with the bullet wound is shot twice in the chest then once more in the head. Weishi covers her mouth to stop herself from screaming.

  When it is all over, the room is filled with the cries of the women.

  The Western woman is let go. She drops to the floor and crawls to the corpses of all those she worked so hard to protect, cursing each of the CERE soldiers. The soldier’s lingering presence has Weishi and Iris worried. They begin to regret their decision not to hide.

  Dogs whispers something into the ear of the commander and he nods confirming the directive.

  “Take half of the women,” the commander relayed the order to his men.

  Several CERE soldiers block the exits. The rest begin to chase the women around the room, their clothes and hair grabbed at, regardless whether they wear the Red Cross or not. The bedridden are the most vulnerable. Then it is the children.

  A soldier lurks towards Weishi. Fearful for her own life, she does not see the man about to grab Iris from behind. Iris kicks and yells as hard and loud as she can, but does not manage to wriggle free. The soldier holds Weishi back as Iris is carried away.

  “I will go!” she shouted. “I will go!”

  Weishi’s pleads catch the attention of Dogs. He signals for the man carrying Iris to hold his position. Slowly he creeps towards her, his excitement is picked up by his pets and they begin to salivate.

  “I will go in her place.”

  “No! Do not do it,” Iris called back.

  Curiosity Dogs gazes at her through the dark lens of his mask. A low muffled panting comes from the strange soldier as if he were not completely human.

  “Please,” she begged. “My name is…”

  “Weishi Jung,” he interrupted before she can lie.

  Few are shocked to find out they have been sheltering the most wanted woman on Neo-Shanxi.

  “Take me to my children,” she demanded, putting up no fight.

  The soldier growls, satisfied with his discovery. He rounds up the rest of the CERE soldiers and instructs the commander to lead the way. As they leave, the Western woman apologies to Weishi that she couldn’t have done more. But Weishi is finally at peace, knowing soon she will be with her children, irrespective of the fate that awaits them at the Assembly.

  Xuan Jung

  Xuan does not know how many days it has been since they locked her in this dark room. Her clothes cling to her malnourished body. No longer do her muscles have the strength for her to stand. Her lips chapped and her mouth dry. Dehydration has made her delirious. She hears things through the walls, ungodly noises that keep her awake.

  Men pass by the door, laughing as they share vulgar experiences. Xuan learnt quickly not to call for help. The soldiers who come to this floor of the Assembly building are not honourable.

  Hours pass before another set of footsteps approach. Fiddling with the lock, the door is swung wide open. Blinded by the light, Xuan can hardly make out the figure looking down at her. A slight breeze brings with it the scent of decay.

  As he makes his way over to her, Xuan’s eyes adjust and a soldier dressed in blue and black kneels beside her. On his armband is a peculiar picture of worms. He pulls out a flask and gently wets her lips.

  “On your feet,” he ordered, offering her help up. “Come on.”

  Unable to resist, she takes his hand and is pulled up from the floor. Worms wraps his arm around her waist for support and leads her out into the corridor. Compared to the soldier, she is frail and brittle. In a few steps, the little energy she had is expended, but still he forces her to walk. Every time Xuan tries to collapse, he props her back up.

  The corridor squelches underfoot, the floorboards saturated in rancid liquids. Whimpering, crying and choking come from closed doors. Xuan wheezes as the terror of this place becomes real and not just a nightmare she dreamt up in the dark.

  Worms brings her to a room with two chairs in the centre. He sits her down and takes his place opposite. It is the first-time Xuan can clearly see the soldier’s face. She is shocked to see an old man. His skin is scared and burnt, lasting mementos of atrocities he alone claims to be justified.

  “I heard you are a great singer,” Worms begun with an ominous playfulness. “It is such a shame that a woman’s appeal is lost when she becomes a mother. Motherhood is such a noble commitment, but it is all consuming, everything else in a woman’s life becomes forfeit. A shame really. Before the war, women didn’t have to sacrifice everything to mother a child. Both family and careers could be pursued. Can you even envisage a world where choice was not a luxury, but a right?”

  Xuan does not answer him.

  Not really expecting the conversation, Worms continued, “No? Neither could I. The war had already been going for two years when I was born. I grew up in a small town in Australia that doesn’t exist anymore. All the women stayed at home, raising the kids while the men went out to work for pittance. Small towns like mine were easy pickings for roaming gangs, travelling place to place, taking whatever they needed to survive. I remember our little old town being raided several times when I was young. But this one time, it was different. These men had been travelling for a while without a warm bed to lay in. There isn’t anything better to warm a bed th
an a woman. Mothers did their best to hide away their daughters, so well in fact there wasn’t enough space for their sons. My mother was a good woman. A Christian woman. She would not see harm come to her only son. Dragging out our neighbours youngest from the under the floorboards, I was put in her place. The other two daughters cried out for their sister, but when the men broke down the door, we waited in silence, listening to the men have their way with them.”

  Xuan watches the old soldier horrified as he begins to laugh at his own story. The pain behind is eye is real enough for her to believe it was true. It is an uncomfortably long time until Worms settles. He takes a swig from the flask and holds Xuan in place as he dabs water on her lips again.

  “My mother knew the sacrifice she had to make for her child. Do you?” he asked, squeezing her cheeks tightly. “Through the door behind you are the children. To save your son, you must choose which of the other children will join you in your fate. If you fail to decide, I will take only your son.”

  Xuan begins to tremble and breaks down uncontrollably. She begs and pleads with the soldier, throwing herself at his feet. No matter how hard she tries, she cannot find the words in English.

  “No, please. No. Take me. I will do whatever you want. Do not take the children.”

  “You have two minutes to decide. It’s a lot longer than my mother had to save me,” he said.

  Worms tries to walk out of the room, dragging her along with each step, still begging for mercy. Stamping on her arm, he kicks her off and slams the door shut.

  Totally frozen, Xuan can feel her chest tighten. Each breath is deep. Her heart feels like it has been stabbed by a thousand needles. Droplets fall to floor, splashing in tiny puddles. From the bottom of her lungs she lets out a harrowing scream.

 

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