The Government: Dark Days

by Joseph Storm

  Father Tyme rushed to pick it up, making sure that it didn’t end up in the wrong hands.

  Robert devoured his food like a starving animal, caring about nothing else. The group watched him closely, as he scraped the bowl down to the bottom. His fingernails chafed against the cheap wood.

  Joe and Gunner tried to stop Robert from doing further damage. Blood seeped from his dirt caked, jagged finger nails. The two men wrestled the bowl away, as Yale hit the ground, and started eating dirt.

  The deliriously hungry man shoved a fist full of dry earth into his mouth. He sucked every bit of nutrients, imagining it was his favorite meal: apricot glazed duck with an aged bottle of Chianti. Unfortunately for the professor, the dirt wouldn’t settle as well. He started throwing up the foul tasting concoction of musty dust.

  Gunner pounded Robert’s back, making sure the dirt had cleared his windpipes. As many times as he wished the man dead, he wasn’t serious when it came down to it. “Spit it up...spit it up! Even Stacey’s cooking isn’t that bad,” he assured him.

  A shaking Robert Yale huffed for breath, as the strong sun beat down upon him. How will I ever make it through another work day? He asked himself.

  Suddenly, a soft, sweet, and familiar voice floated to his ears. It would provide the answer. “Drink,” the voice said, as Yale and Gunner lifted their heads in unison. The two men gazed up at a silhouetted angel, holding a water-filled cup.

  “Dad?” Emma asked in pure disbelief.

  “This...must be an illusion,” Robert said. “Can it really be you? Like a mirage in the desert...can it really be my daughter?”

  “Fate?” Gunner repeated, as chills shot through his body. He only remembered the innocent redheaded girl as a baby, though she had his eyes, and Stacey’s soft, feminine features. After all of these years, he finally found what he had been searching for.

  Emma looked strangely at Gunner. “You have confused me with someone else, sir. My name is Emma...not Fate.”

  “It really is you!” Robert yelled. The desperate man found his inner strength. He lunged at the girl, embracing her with all his might. He started to cry. Emma joined him.

  “They said I was coming back to you...then changed their minds,” she said sadly.

  “Let me look at you! You’re an adult! So beautiful,” he said, running his hands through her hair. Emma was surprised at the display of overwhelming warmth from the usually reserved man.

  Gunner watched in disbelief. He knew that his daughter Fate stood in front of him. However, he was puzzled as to why she no longer bared the name he gave her.

  “Where’s mom? Is she...” Emma asked, trembling in fear.

  “She’s alive,” he said. “At least I think...in the women’s camp.”

  “Mimi?” she asked about her dog.

  “It’s been so long...we...it happened so fast. We had no choice but to leave her behind,” he said, as sadness enveloped her face.

  “I hope someone gave her a good life,” she said, knowing that there was no longer a good life available to give.

  “How have they treated you? Did they hurt you?” he asked.

  She thought for a moment, remembering to repeat what she was taught. “I am thankful to the government party...they provide and care for me...meeting my every need.”

  Gunner butted in, “No kid of mine speaks that bullshit! Fate...everything they told you is a lie! You’re smarter than that!”

  “You mistake me for someone else,” Emma proclaimed, staring at Gunner like he was insane. “My name is Emma, not Fate...and you’re not my father...he is.” She pointed at Robert Yale.

  Robert looked down in embarrassment. “Emma, I have something to tell you,” he said.

  Emma had the look of both fear and shock on her face. “My father is dead...an alcoholic that abused us. He drank himself to death.”

  Gunner looked at Robert with angry eyes. “You son of a bitch! Not only did you steal my wife...but you lied to my daughter.”

  “They were not my words...they were Stacy’s,” he timidly said.

  “You mean...he’s...alive?” Emma asked in disbelief.

  “That’s right, kid...I’m your father. Your real father! And here’s a news flash...your mother left me...yanked you right from my arms!”

  “Why?” she asked Robert. “Why would you do that to me?”

  “Your mother had no choice...she feared for your safety. She changed your name to protect you.”

  “It’s not true! I was no longer of use to her...this cow had run outta cash! Damn it...I searched. I looked for you every damned day of my meaningless life. I never gave up...just wanting to know my little girl! I deserved it!”

  Emma started to back away. “I...I,”

  “What’s going on here?” Rock entered the scene. He turned to Emma. “Do you know this man?”

  “No...I was just giving him water. He’s a stranger,” she said, handing Robert the cup. “They all are.”

  “Fraternization is forbidden amongst prisoners...you know better,” Rock said, trying to maintain a professional manner. He turned to the group of prisoners, “And you all...better get to work.”

  Emma walked away, stopping for one last moment to gaze back at her real father. The distraught man stared her down. He watched a tear spill from her eye to the ground. Sunlight hi-lighted her reddish hair, glistening her eyes. The picture mirrored the smiling baby face that was lodged in his head for years. He used to stare at her photos, mapping every inch of his beloved child’s image. She used to light up his face with her joy, as he would entertain his daughter by head-butting her hand puppets. After she was taken away, Gunner was never the same.

  Fragmented flashes of memories played through Emma’s head as well. The very young child, too young to know better, cried out for her father. She was hurried away from him in tears. The last, fuzzy memory she had was of him crashing to his knees, begging not to take his daughter. Unfortunately, her young, impressionable mind blocked that time out, letting her mother’s agenda rewrite history. It would only resurface when she saw his face again.

  In time, the more adult, less affectionate Robert Yale resumed the role of father. He was the only one she’d ever known, as upon the age of five, she started asking questions about distant memories. “He was killed...drank himself to death. He was a bad man...that’s all you need to know,” her mother Stacey told her.

  The selfish woman’s words haunted the child. Abandonment issues plagued her dreams, shattering sheets of bitterness which pierced her heart. How could the man who gave birth to me, be so bad? How can he love me so little? She always asked herself. Although Robert was not doting, he was the closest thing she had to an adult influence in her life, and she was grateful for him. He provided for her, educated her, and served as a father figure. He hadn’t been perfect, but she appreciated what he was, not what he wasn’t.

  Suddenly, old questions were replaced by new ones. The world she had always known came down upon her like acid rain. I left my father...he didn’t leave me? Could the man I spent my life hating, be the one who truly loved me? My real name is Fate?

  “Get moving!” Rock yelled, using the shock stick to take Gunner to the ground.

  It was against everything she was taught, but Emma’s heart suddenly kicked into gear. She ran to protect her father, jumping in front of him. Rock pulled back from mistakingly striking Emma with the shock stick instead.

  “Don’t hurt him!” she cried out.

  “What has gotten into you?” Rock shouted.

  A team of guards ran over, “Should we have her disciplined, sir?”

  Rock debated whether to allow her punishment for the sake of the couple’s shared secret. He decided against it. “I’ll take care of it.” They nodded.

  Rock grabbed Emma by the arm, yanking her away from Gunner. He left the man one last warning, “Get off your ass, and get to work!” Gunner slowly stood on his feet, staring Rock down.

  “Hurt her...and die,” he said. Emma loo
ked away, hoping to escape a confrontation.

  Rock looked strangely at Gunner, returning his attention to Emma. “Let’s go!” he said, marching her away.

  “Don’t you touch my little girl!” Gunner called out, as he was beat down by the other guards.

  Rock was left puzzled by Gunner and Robert’s interest in his girlfriend. He brought Emma into her small quarters, sitting her on the bed. “What has gotten into you?”

  “I’m so sorry! I...I don’t know what compelled me to do that?”

  “The next time you pull a stunt like that...I’ll have to let them punish you! Trust me...you don’t want to experience that.”

  “I understand,” she said, breaking eye contact with him.

  “Tell me. What was it about that man...that caused you to sacrifice yourself? Our position here?”

  “A misjudgment...which will never happen again.”

  “I thought you cared for me...respected me?”

  “I do! With everything inside,” she assured him. “You know that!”

  “Then why do you act like I’m a fool? I was trained to read lies...recognize liars. The guilt on your face...jittering of your eyes...tells me you’re being untruthful.”

  “Do you trust me?” she asked. “After all these years...do you think I’d ever do anything that wasn’t in your best interest? Do anything to hurt you?”

  Rock looked down. “I’m starting to wonder,” he said. “Lucky for you...I have to deal with more pressing matters at the moment. This isn’t over,” he said.

  “Can I have a kiss?” she asked.

  “When you start acting like you’re one of us...and not one of them. Get back to work,” he said, exiting in frustration.

  Emma gasped, laying back on the bed. Not only did she have to digest a world-changing event, though now, she would have to hide it from the one she loved.

  ******

  Rock had Joe pulled off the line, marching him to the interrogation room. Striker was pushed down onto the chair, as the unknowingly related strangers sat quietly, each detesting the other.

  “We meet again,” Xavier exclaimed. He entered the room, letting forth the loud, harsh laugh that followed Joe out of the Virginia warehouse.

  “I should’ve killed you...while I had the chance,” Joe snarled.

  “But your son...you would’ve never found him if you had gone through with it,” he said with a sarcastic tone.

  “I haven’t found him...yet! For all I know...he’s not even alive.”

  “Oh...I assure you, he is quite alive...and closer than you think.”

  “He’s here?”

  “We’ll get to what you want soon enough...but its time to give up the game. They’ll be no escape this time. Where is the chip?”

  “Safe. For all you know...it could be closer than you think,” Joe said, using Sin’s own words to secure his bargaining position.

  “You’re a tough man to bargain with...Striker...I’ll give you that,” he said. “You don’t go down easy. Your talents are useless opposing us. Join us...and you can have the world!”

  “I wouldn’t bet your good eye on it,” he said, zeroing in on the patch covering Sin’s eye socket.

  “I am reminded of your prowess every day. Though you no longer hold the advantage...what’s to stop me from returning the favor? Trade both your eyes for my one.”

  “Do what you must...but I won’t break.”

  “Well, well...it’s nice to see principle still lives, isn’t it?” he asked, turning to the masked Rock.

  “Principle is for the weak minded,” Rock said.

  Commander Sin let forth a laugh. “The weak and the privileged.”

  “From my point of view...the privileged ones are standing in front of me,” Joe said.

  “Oh...make no mistake about it...we hold the cards these days. However, we’re only taking what is due us. The past owes us everything.”

  “I paid my dues...worked for everything I ever had in my life. The past? It wasn’t perfect...but at least it wasn’t pre-decided. Those who failed...had a chance to succeed.”

  “Spoken like the true, ungrateful piss-ant, you are,” Commander Sin said. “The past was a twisted place...where one set of vets came home to a hero’s welcome...the other set came home to be spit on by the public.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? My military service? So this is some type of past grievance? Blaming me for other people’s ignorance?”

  “This is much more than that. It’s about the downtrodden taking power...those held down...getting their revenge.”

  “So do it already...take your revenge. I’m right here...kill me...and the chip still exists. Maybe it’s in someone else’s hands...ready to be sent to allies of freedom.”

  “You must take me for a retard, Striker. I’ve seen your resolve already, and I know that hurting you won’t work. However...” he said, walking behind Rock, who was uneasy, though still stood at stiff attention.

  “Let’s see if you have the same stubbornness...for you son,” he said, yanking the black mask from Rock’s head.

  Rock was left in further confusion, as Striker gasped with disbelief. It was the first time that Joe gazed upon the cruel guard’s face. The resemblance was clear from the moment of the unmasking. He’s my son, Joe told himself. He was torn between bliss and the horrific realization of what his offspring had become.

  Tears filled his eyes, as he gazed into the mirror of DNA. What shocked him even more was that they looked the same age. He’s a fourteen year old boy with the face and body of a man, Joe wondered. He knew his son’s exact age, as the monumental date shared itself with the deaths of both Jenny and his country.

  “That’s false, commander. I...was abandoned by my parents...Mr. Sorka told me himself,” Rock said, recalling a time when the questions of “why me” had gotten the best of him. He dared to ask Mika about his past. The cruel and careless things that he heard further angered the rage-filled young man. More importantly to the cause, it further endeared his loyalty to the government.

  “You were abandoned...by the pig that sits before you,” Xavier said. “The man that murdered your mother.”

  “How dare you lie like that!” Joe Striker yelled, leaping from the chair at the commander. Before he could make contact, Rock floored his father. He sent a hard boot into the man’s side.

  Joe crashed into the floor, again amazed at the young boy’s strength.

  Commander Xavier continued laughing loudly. “He gave you up...leaving you to die on the streets. The government took you in...gave you direction. We made you the man you’ve become. The man your mother would have been so proud of,” he said, cracking a smile.

  “No!” Striker called out, charging Xavier with the fury as an enraged rhinoceros. Rock stepped in front, flipping Joe Striker over his shoulder. He sent him crashing to the floor again.

  “I never thought my father would be so weak,” Rock said.

  “What did you do to him?” Joe called out. “He’s only a boy! It’s unnatural!”

  “We made him a man,” Commander Xavier said, pulling Joe’s Smith & Wesson revolver from Rock’s holster, and placing it to the boy’s head.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Joe asked.

  “One bargaining chip for another,” he said, turning his questioning towards Rock. “Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for the good of the government, Rock?”

  The surprised boy paused for a moment. He suddenly repeated the mantra that he was raised with, “I am but a tool in the government’s hands,” he said, standing tall and brave.

  “Here’s my offer. Give up the chip...your son lives, friends go free, and you join us. Think of it...father and son reunited...joining forces for a worthy cause.”

  “You won’t kill him...you need him.”

  “Everyone is replaceable...even myself. Do you catch my drift? Either way...I benefit from your decision. Make your choice. Make it quick.”

  Joe thought long and hard, batt
ling his own angels and demons. This is not my son, he told himself. The boy died that day...with his mother. He died when they sucked the soul from his body.

  As hard as the words were to speak, Striker forced them out. “Do it.”

  Shock came across both of their faces, as Commander Sin followed with a laugh. “You’re really willing to sacrifice your own son...for a piece of plastic? You see Rock...everything I said about him...has just been proven.”

  “No, I’m not willing to sacrifice my son. I’m willing to sacrifice a masked, brainwashed psychopath who was made in some government lab. My real son was torn from the body of my murdered wife...his identity murdered with her. Please...put him out of his misery,” Striker said confidently.

  However, a dissenting thought quickly popped into his brain. “Anyone can be saved, even the worst of us,” Father Tyme’s words jogged through Joe’s head. It’s hopeless, another thought argued its way through. Either way, Joe Striker was hoping to call Xavier’s bluff. He had long blamed himself for a wife’s death he had no fault in. The murder of his son would come directly from his own lips.

  “So be it,” Commander Sin said. He cocked the hammer of the weapon, placing his finger on the trigger. Joe Striker studied the eagerness in Xavier’s eye, realizing the advantage he would have in killing his eventual replacement. He may be the one hope the world has left, Striker told himself, realizing that evil is learned, and good is inherited. If he has Jenny’s compassion anywhere within him, he has hope. Joe finally came to a decision.

  “Your sacrifice will be honored by your comrades,” Xavier said to Rock. His finger pressed down on the trigger, only stopping within a millisecond of Joe’s voice.

  “Stop!” Striker called out.

  Damn, Commander Sin thought. I guess I’ll have to settle for the chip. “Have I finally found a way to break the unbreakable Joe Striker?” he asked.

  “I don’t know where it is,” Joe said.

  “Not good enough,” Xavier answered, replacing the barrel to Rock’s head.

  “But Becky Fox does. I entrusted it in her care. Knowing that I would be the target...I didn’t want to know what she did with it.”