The Cause

by Clint Stoker

  “Yeah, I think I’ll get back to the bar.”

  “You do that.”

  Napal walked to a workman and talked for a few minutes and left. Air went to Ganton and Anna-Desi. They were both shaken up.

  “Where are the others?” said Anna-Desi.

  “Fenton is still in the building. We’re not going to be able to get them out tonight. I think Napal just sent those workmen into the purging office to fix the door. If Fenton has any brains, he’ll get out of there as fast as he can.”

  “So we’re just going to leave all three of them there?” Ganton seemed surprised.

  “I don’t know what else to do.” Air tossed his hands up.

  They sat on the curb and watched as the workmen cleaned the street and worked their way into the cleaning center to sweep more glass. Fenton came out from the shadows. The workmen looked at him and they stood talking. After a few minutes, the workmen went back to the glass and Fenton crossed the alleyway toward them.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Fenton hissed.

  “What about Ben and Dharmesh?” Anna-Desi spoke much louder than was appropriate. The booze.

  “Dharmesh says he has a plan. All we can do now is hope it works.” Fenton assured her.

  Air felt a sadness seep into his body. His arms seemed weighed down by grief. Their chance for escape had come and gone. It was over. He turned and walked away.

  “Where are you going?” Anna-Desi demanded.

  “I’m done being involved.” Air matched her volume.

  “Whether you like it or not, you’re part of this.”

  “I don’t have to be anymore.”

  “Yes, you do. The rebirth is in two days. We still need to stop it.” She looked at him with sad eyes, a weapon she had mastered.

  Air took a calming breath and tried his best to be apathetic. “I’m glad we met in the theater. I’m glad you helped me remember, but now, I’m done. I don’t want to change the city or help everyone else remember. I’m going to find the founding documents and find a way out.”

  Anna-Desi sniffed. No doubt tears were filling her mask.

  Fenton stepped between them like an over protective brother. “I was just beginning to think you were still as good as Fields said you were.”

  “Fields doesn’t know anything about me.”

  “I think you’re right, Air.”

  Air didn’t say anything. He just turned and kept walking. The muscles under his right eye were having spasms. Everything was out of his control. He felt terrible for leaving but he would feel even worse if he had to stick around to kill another person. He didn’t want to find out how the cause would end. He was sure it would be painful.

  ---

  When Air finally got to his apartment, he went inside and sat on his bed. He set the gun and the photo of Dex and the Founder on the bed in front of him. He sat there and wondered if he would have to kill Ben and Dharmesh in the morning. He thought about the founding documents, how long it might take to find them. He tried to think of anyone that might know where the documents were, but he couldn’t focus. He kept seeing images of the woman bleeding on the street. He thought about the woman from his dreams, his wife. He wanted to be with her. She might understand. He looked at the nightstand. The sleeping pills sat right where he had left them.

  Chapter 15

  Air’s body tensed-up like it was preparing for an impact. Monochromatic forms appeared. Mountains in the skyline. Color bled into the sky, and he could see the gentle blue hues of a beautiful day fade in from obscurity. The smell of campfires settled in and then he saw the crowd. They gathered before him in the thousands, roaring at the sight of him. No single face could be seen. The dream made them all unrecognizable. It was one huge churning pool of humanity.

  Air stood on a rickety platform. He spoke into the microphone, and the sea of people hushed at his words. He couldn’t hear the words pouring from his lips, but he could see the reactions from the crowd. They cheered and he paused. They applauded his ideas and his solutions, but he didn’t feel comfortable standing in plain sight. They raised their fists and chanted together.

  “For life, for hope, for freedom!”

  Air turned to see a man next to him on the stand. He tugged at Air’s arm, and pleaded for him to come down. Air hesitated and looked back at the crowd. He wanted to do more – that had always been his weakness.

  Something tugged at his shoulder hard, like a lead hornet. The pain was sharp like an electric shock. His arms flailed like they had plans of their own. He lifted his hands to protect his head and ducked. Air’s supporters ushered him off the stand. The crowd swirled in chaos. What happened?

  Air patted his chest and saw blood. He was shot. He felt an immediate burning sensation spread through his chest. Seeing it somehow gave way to the pain.

  “Run!” His escort shouted.

  A mishmash of bodyguards piled their hands on Air. They rushed across a field, and into a small hut that was covered in thin corrugated steel. Air lay on his back and stared into the ceiling. He panted and fell head first into shock. Two other men leaned over him and tore the shirt from his chest. He focused on their faces until they blurred from view. He couldn’t see anything, but he could hear gunshots and shrieks. The warmth of blood spread beneath him.

  “Hold on, Air.”

  The burning sensation lingered, but the urgency vanished. And the event tucked itself away into the blackened void of his memory.

  When the world was illuminated again, he was walking in a line, gripping a machine gun in his hands. A heavy pack weighed down each step. He looked behind to see a loose string of soldiers trailing after him. They walked along a forest path. The earth was dark and fertile. Fatigued, he convinced himself to walk a little farther. Hoping to find something reason told him wasn’t there. He felt too guilty to go back, yet not ignorant enough to keep going. They stopped and made camp as a compromise.

  His followers were all boys. Dirty and tired. They ate their meals and laughed together. It could have just been a nice hike and a camping trip. The boys were innocent enough. If they weren’t all toting heavy ammunition boxes and semi-automatic rifles, it might have been believable.

  Air reached for his shoulder. The soft tissue between his ribs and shoulder bone was knotted. He didn’t have to see it to know the gunshot wound was scared over. To Air, it was just a reminder of his carelessness, but the boys looked up to him because of it. When they asked what it felt like to be shot, he told them it happened too fast to feel. On some level, they must have known he was lying, but Air didn’t want to give them anything more to worry about.

  They slept that night under taut sheets of canvas strung to the trees. Air considered turning back. Taking the boys home would be the smart thing to do. He even found a safe route back on the map. Why did he always do that? He had to understand all his options even though he knew there was no choice. He had to keep going. Nightfall didn’t bring sleep. He stood up and walked around the camp, counting bodies, listening to the boys breathe. He felt guilty for bringing them, but he didn’t know what else to do.

  “Sir.” A face peered up from under a shelter.

  “Yes, Thomas?” Air whispered.

  “Can I talk to you?”

  “Sure, what’s on your mind?”

  The boy crawled out from under the canvas and tip-toed past the others. His auburn hair was greasy and matted. He looked scared beyond what he could handle.

  “I don’t…” he looked around as if to make sure no one was listening. “I have a bad feeling.”

  “Because the other squad isn’t here yet?”

  “Even if they were here.” Thomas’ voice flickered in and out like a bad radio frequency.

  “They’ll be here.”

  “Right, when they get here,” Thomas agreed, considering shutting-up and going back to bed.

  “You aren’t worried about the other squad?”

  “No, it has nothing to do with them.”

  “It’s norma
l to be nervous.”

  “It’s more than nerves.” Thomas swallowed and started to shiver. “I think I’m going to die tomorrow.”

  “No one’s going to die. This is just a negotiation.”

  “I’m going to take one in the throat tomorrow. I can feel it already.” He clasped his neck. “It hurts already.”

  “There won’t be any shots fired.”

  “There will. I’m going to die.” Fear gripped Thomas.

  “Do you want to go home?”

  The boy didn’t answer.

  “If we quit now, they’ll follow us home.”

  “They might leave us alone.”

  “They’ll leave us alone for a little while, but when they run out of resources they’ll find us and take what they need. That’s how it works now. The treaty will be good for us all.” Air hoped he wasn’t telling another lie.

  The boy wiped his fist over his eyes. He cried like a child, gasping every few seconds like an uncontrollable reflex.

  “Tomorrow we’ll negotiate terms for trade. They would be fools not to accept.” It was all Air could say. He wasn’t good with these situations. “You will be hiding in the tree line the whole time, just in case. They won’t even know your there. Then we can go home, and they won’t follow us.”

  Thomas swallowed and nodded his head.

  “Okay…” He fought to control his tears and looked back at the sleeping boys. “You won’t tell anyone…”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Okay.” The boy nodded and walked back, without a sound, to his dirt bed.

  “See you in the morning,” Air whispered.

  Air leaned back against a large tree trunk and held his machine gun so it crossed his chest. He sat like a sentinel watching the boys. A sickening feeling, that he had lied to Thomas, washed over. He settled back and closed his eyes. The damp air drifted away, and he left the forest for another dream. His body sunk into a soft bed.

  “I love you,” she said.

  Air just smiled.

  “Do you really have to give a speech tomorrow?”

  “I’d rather just lay here with you for a week.”

  “That could be arranged.”

  Air laughed so she would know he considered it a joke.

  “Or I could come with you.” She pressed.

  “I’d feel better if you stayed home.”

  “You’ll be in a safe region tomorrow anyway.”

  “I hope so.”

  “It is safe and you know it.”

  “It’s safer here.”

  She sighed and rolled over to give him a long stare. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll stay here.”

  Air studied her. He could see her face in parts, but he couldn’t recognize her as a whole. She had soft, beautiful features. He tried to seal her image in his memory, but he couldn’t. Her face eluded him. The memory of her was like a translucent fluid. She was there before him, yet he couldn’t see her as an actual person, as his wife. His heart sunk when the memory faded away.

  He was in the forest again, running between trees. He could hear bullets splitting through limbs. Hot shrapnel whistled over his head, and he ducked behind a boulder. He looked over his shoulder and shouted for the boys, his soldiers. Two cowered in a bombed-out divot in the ground. They looked back at him and he motioned for them to stay down. He spun his pack around and lifted the flap. He found a hand-sized mirror and held it by one corner – aiming it around the edge of the boulder. He saw three more boys hiding behind separate trees, and the body of another lying face down in the dirt ten yards away.

  He turned again and pulled a smoke grenade from his pack. With a grunt, he jumped to his feet and threw the grenade so it would land just past the boys. He lifted his machine gun and ran back to them.

  “Run to me, now!” Air shouted.

  White smoke spilled into the air and two of the boys ran past Air. They dodged back and forth, hoping to avoid being in the same path as a screaming bullet. Air waved for them to duck inside the crater with the others – looking hard through the smoke to see the last boy.

  “Run this way!” He yelled.

  “Help!” the voice echoed back. It was Thomas.

  Air ducked and ran toward the voice in the smoke. He almost tripped over the boy who was now lying in the ground with his hands over his head.

  “Crawl back with me!” Air nudged Thomas’ leg.

  The boy was hysterical. He clung to his gun, frozen on the ground.

  Air slung his gun over his back and grasped Thomas’ ankle. He turned and dragged the boy back to the shell crater. Smoke licked around them as it began to dissipate in the breeze. The boys pushed to one side of the shallow hole to make room. Air slid in and pulled the distraught boy in on top of him.

  “Everyone ok?”

  “Cayden is dead,” said one of the more composed boys.

  “Are any of you hit?”

  The boys looked back and forth at one another and shook their heads, no.

  “Good, does everyone still have a weapon?”

  “Yes.”

  An artillery explosion shook the ground and they shrunk down with fear. The blast tore through the sky like thunder.

  “We need to retreat down the mountain,” said Air, “Does anyone else have a smoke grenade?”

  “I have two.”

  “Perfect. Toss them both back the way we came and we’ll make a run for it.”

  “I can’t run,” Thomas said.

  “This is going to work better if I don’t have to drag you all the way!” Air raised his voice hoping a little authority would follow.

  Thomas kept quiet.

  Air signaled for another boy to throw the smoke grenades. They counted to five to make sure the smoke was dispersing and they scrambled out of the pit. They ran down the hill and slipped behind an elevated mound of earth. Air counted the boys to make sure they were all safe. Then he peered around the ridge to look back at the smoke cloud. A grenade exploded from the crater and he saw two men fire rounds into it. They were close. Air grabbed at a grenade and pulled the pin out with his teeth. He hurled it up the hill and it landed at the feet of the soldiers. It burst and the men flailed to the ground. Air turned back to the boys.

  “They’re getting really close. We need to shoot back or we aren’t going to last long. This is just like we went over in training.”

  Air lifted his machine gun and looked over around the ridge again. He could see at least three soldiers occupying the crater. He fired a couple bursts and saw one man topple back and fall down. He turned back to the boys and looked across the decline. There was a thick wooded area and a small rock formation.

  “I need you three to run over to that rock. You will provide suppressing fire from there.”

  “Yes, sir.” They ran to the rocks with their backs hunched in an attempt to be small targets.

  Two boys stayed with Air including Thomas. Air directed one to lean up against the mound of dirt by a tree and fire. Thomas was shivering next to Air as low as he could be.

  “You told me no shots would be fired.” Thomas shook.

  “There isn’t anything we can do about it now except fire back.”

  “I can’t.”

  Air ignored him. The other boys started shooting at an unseen enemy so Air turned and peeked back across the line. He saw another soldier fall to the ground. A larger opponent shouted and fired back from behind an even closer tree. Thomas leaned up against the hill, slid down the dirt and whimpered. “I’m okay, I’m okay!”

  Air took out a few approaching enemies and then turned back to Thomas who still refused to fight.

  “Let’s retreat back down the hill a little farther.” Air hoped a little more distance might help.

  “Okay.” Thomas was eager to agree.

  They spotted a ravine fifty yards downhill that looked like a manageable distance to reach without getting shot. Air tossed another grenade and they took off down the hill. Air waved to the other boys to retreat to
another location further down. When they were all safe, Air began to return fire back up the hill.

  “I could use your help, Thomas,” Air insisted.

  Thomas looked back at Air and lifted his rifle like a humble offering. “Okay,” he said.

  The boy pointed his rifle over the edge of the ravine. Before he could fire his first shot, a hot bullet hit him. His last conscious action was to clasp his throat. Then he fell to the ground. He was dead. The image rested in Air’s memory for a long time. He couldn’t hear gunshots, or the shouts from the other boys anymore, but he could still see Thomas lying dead with his eyes open wide.

  Intense sadness weighed down on Air like a cargo he just realized he had been carrying for centuries. He looked around to see darkness. The dream had again taken him to another memory in another time.

  Air’s clothes were saturated with filthy water and he sloshed through a waist-deep flood. He fired his gun into the darkness and yelled for her. He saw two tribesmen at the door of the shed where he had left her. He shot them both and ran into the dark shed. He could hear her sucking for air.

  “Shot,” she gasped.

  “Where?”

  She didn’t say anything back. She just gasped and labored for another breath.

  “You’ll be alright.” A lie he had told many times before.

  Air found the life preserver and set her on it. He headed out to find higher ground. She had been shot in the abdomen. He pressed down on the wound with his bare hand to slow the bleeding. They pushed through the liquid filth, and searched the ominous landscape for shelter. The water reflected little bits of light from the slivered moon, but it wasn’t enough.

  “Are you hungry?”

  She looked back at him and smiled.

  “We’re safe now.” Now he was only lying to himself.

  “I’m dying.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. Everything is going to be fine.”

  “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

  “That’s good. See, it isn’t so bad. You’re lucky.”

  “I wish we could have had children.” She spoke like an old woman looking back on life.

  “We can. As soon as we find someplace safe.”

  “It’s too late. I’m dying.”