Outside of the room was a large living area. There were multiple tables in the area with equipment on them. Radios, guns, bullets, and maps. Ten men in black tactical gear lazed around. One of them on baby duty, watching the babies sleep in a makeshift crib.
The room led to a long hallway, and down that hallway was a small room. Inside the room, Sara leaned against the wall. Her phone was in her hand.
She needed to call him. She dialed a number.
August picked up, “Hello? Sara!?”
“August?”
“Sara! Where are you?”
“I helped them, they’re safe.”
“What? You helped what, Sara?”
“I contacted Ifor, I saved us, August. We can stop running away. We can start living again.”
August didn’t reply back. She had lost it.
“No more hiding, no more running away. We can live under He again. He’ll always watch over us.”
“Where are you?” August’s voice lowered.
…
August stared at his phone as Sara hung up. Kevan stood next to him. “How? How could she?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“She fucked us, she’s killed my wife and my kids!”
“She told me where they were.”
“We have to get my family back, August.”
“But… they’ll be waiting for us.”
“I don’t care. I’m going with or without you.”
Kevan checked his pistol. It was the only weapon he had. They had bullets and explosives in the car but that was it.
August stood up. “Okay. Let’s go.”
…
August drove up the Pacific Coast highway, heading north. The location she told them was half-way between Sotira in Northern California and Los Angeles.
Kevan sat next to him, rubbing the butt of the gun with his thumb. “I knew her for years. How could she do that? How could she knowingly put my wife and kids in danger?”
“I did the same, remember?” August said.
“That was different, you were ignorant of the fact because of how far your head was up your ass.”
“Thanks.”
“She never seemed like a person who would do that. She was the good one.”
“Things changed after her accident.”
“How?”
“I…I don’t know. She suddenly became enlightened, like our father was. She was praising the gods, saying they would save us. But, it never seemed like she would go this far.”
“Can you not compare our father to that woman? Our father never killed anyone, never did anything that bad. He was a hero.”
“You really don’t remember, do you? Why I hated our father so much?”
“Because you couldn’t come to terms with your own insignificance?”
“Stop. You must’ve been too young to remember how our father truly was.”
August remembered back to when he was younger, back when Kevan had just saying his first words. Taking his first steps.
Their father was an Ifor soldier; he would leave for months while their mother was left to raise them on her own.
August still remembered those years. His mother was working two jobs, waking up early in the morning to get August ready for elementary school, while having to take Kevan to day-care for the day.
Then when August came home from school, she would cook and clean and get them ready for the next day and put them to bed so she could go work her second job.
She did that for two years while Patrick was away. Their father didn’t give them a single damn cent to help raise them. Then, when he finally had come home, nothing changed for the better.
He forced their mother to quit her jobs and made her stay at home. He would leave for most parts of the day and come home drunk and start beating on her. And when she couldn’t take a beating anymore, he would beat on August and Kevan.
Every day, August would stay at school after his classes for the day, finding any excuse to not go home. But eventually he had to, and eventually he had to take another beating just for existing. He recalled what his father would yell when laying his foot into him. “The gods aren’t going to save you, boy. You’re a worthless piece of shit.”
Barbara once had some fight in her. But after a while, that was beaten away and she became a shell of her former self. She didn’t eat as much, she broke a lot easier than before. He used to hear her cry every night, praying to whoever would listen to help her, to save her.
Nobody ever came to their rescue. She waited for a god that never cared for them.
Then one day, everything changed. August was playing around Patrick’s pride and joy. His low rider motorcycle. A vintage Harley. His dad loved that thing more than he did the any of them.
When Patrick saw August playing near it, he beat him so hard that he broke a few ribs. He left August to die on the ground while he decided to ride off somewhere. When August saw him leave, he cursed him, hoping that someone would hurt him enough to leave them alone forever. Enough to never hurt them again.
He would’ve died if his mother hadn’t come to see where his father had gone.
August got his wish, that very day. His father was hit by an eighteen-wheeler. Knocked clean off of the motorcycle, but he survived.
That was the day he changed.
After the accident, he started to pray to some nonexistent god who watched over them. They started to go to church to praise He and Patrick got a desk job at the local Ifor office. He became an Enlightened.
Becoming an Enlightened changed a person. In such a way they could never change back. There was still a person in there but it was pushed back in the face of the illusion of what a person wanted to be; it was a lie.
Some thought Patrick changed for the better, but August knew it was a lie. He'd never apologized for what he’d done to them. He never regretted a single damned thing.
…
Kevan stared at August. “I … I don’t remember that.”
“That’s because you were young. You still had the power to forget. I didn’t.”
“So, what are you going to do when you meet Sara? If she’s as enlightened as our father was?”
“When dad spoke his final breath…he thanked me.”
Kevan stared at August. A tear entered his eye.
“I freed him from the lie he was living, from the constraints of the gods.”
“August. What are you going to do when you see Sara again?” Kevan asked again.
August stared at the road. He didn’t answer him. His hands gripped the wheel. He was going to have to kill her.
7
Saint Paul’s Massacre
Twenty years before August had killed his father, there was a certain day that had lived in infamy. The day of the Saint Paul massacre. The day that the gods had first shown aggression against an at the time tranquil human race. The day that Ezekiel had decided to fight against Ifor, and the day that had changed Brookes, Patrick, and humanity forever.
Brookes stared at his hands on the desk. They shook slightly. He had none of his trademark clothes or hair, his beard was fully shaved with his hair cut and neat. He was a twenty-something-year old soldier of Ifor. A member of the God’s Hand.
He shook because of his new assignment. They told him that he’d finally be able to see some action.
That excited him. Action. Most soldiers were appointed to dullest peace-keeping missions. Patrolling towns. Building bridges. Fetching cats out of trees. Boring shit. Nothing exciting ever happened. Which was the reason he left his shitty boring home-town in the first place.
He wanted to live life. He wanted action. But so far, he hadn’t had any.
He sat in a briefing room with ninety-nine other soldiers. A general was up front giving them their orders. General Oziel. Patrick Hedley sat next to Brookes. He stared up at the board in the front.
It showed a map of Saint Paul. A small European town.
The general spoke, “This mission is top
secret. If any word leaks out of this room or you break the silence you swore to Ifor, you had better desert because there will only be death left for you here.”
He turned to the board and a projector projected an overhead map of Saint Paul on the wall. “This is our target. The people in this town are part of a cult that worships a foreign God. The town refused to pay tariffs to Ifor and have purchased enough weapons to wipe out the next town over. They have declared a holy war against He himself and believe that Ifor would just sit around and allow them to insult our lord and creator. But the judgement of the gods is fast and swift and we will strike while they’re still praying to their nonexistent God.”
Brookes stared at the board. It didn’t seem right. But he didn’t say anything. He was just a soldier then.
“They have declared a total war. You will go in there and wipe out every living soul you see. Every mother, father, and child. There will be no hesitation. They will have the faith of Ifor forced onto them and if you have any objections, I will put the bullet in your head myself.”
Nobody objected. Brookes stared at the general. He was a gruff old man. Brookes thought the man was putting on an act. He wondered how he got that kind of personality. There hadn’t been any human wars in centuries. No major conflicts. But maybe he was putting on an act for himself. As he had just ordered the death of an entire town.
Brookes wasn’t sure how he’d feel about the mission. But he couldn’t speak his mind now; he had signed up for a reason and there was no backing out.
Brookes looked at Patrick. He had a puzzled look on his face. He mouthed the words, “What the fuck?” He wasn’t the only soldier with that look on his face.
The general paused when he noticed the looks he was getting. “You signed up for this job, boys, and this is what we do. We follow the orders of the gods and the gods want this city gone. You—”
The general halted. He stared at the door. “Men! Ten Hut!”
The soldiers snapped out of their seats and into attention. The General was at attention, as well.
“At ease, gentlemen,” a woman’s voice said at the door. Queen strolled to the front as everyone eased. Brookes stared at her. She was a pure beauty. The others stared too.
She was a god. The highest one he knew, under He. Her skin seemed to glow as she walked up to the general. “I was listening in and I didn’t hear you tell them why I am here.”
“Oh, yes. Queen is here to turn y’all into Touched. If you’ve been slow on your training, a Touched is a human being touched by the graces of the gods. You will not be hurt by human weapons, you will be able to do the craziest shit…” The general glanced at Queen. She looked indifferent. The general coughed.
“As I was saying, you will gain the strength of three men, your skin will be impenetrable by human-made weapons and, essentially you will become near immortal. If this mission is a success - and it will be a success - and if you showed exemplary skill and workmanship then you will keep the power of the Touched and be transferred over to a god’s personal army.”
Some gasped. To become Touched and to work in a god’s army was the greatest achievement a soldier could strive for. It was the highest point a human soldier could achieve, to have the power of the gods.
“No more working the streets, no more minuscule shi—minuscule work. You will be promoted to the ranks of an officer and work on missions that matter. Which god you’ll be assigned to will be determined after the operation.”
Queen sighed. The general stiffened. “…And I now give the floor to you, Queen. Sorry for the delay, ma’am.”
Queen walked to the first desk in front of her. She simply touched a soldier and walked to the next one. And then to the next one and then to the next.
Brookes watched her as she went down the rows. Nobody lit up or shone. Nobody did a thing. Was “Touched” just a bullshit term so they could feel invincible?
She approached Brookes and tapped him. She stopped and looked at his face. He kept his head forward. He didn’t want to look her in the eyes. The eyes of a god.
She whispered, “You’re mine.” And walked to the next soldier. What? He glanced back and she kept going without a second look.
After a few minutes, everyone had been “Touched.” She walked back to the general and held out her hand. “Gun.”
“What?” The general asked.
“Gun. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The general undid his holster and pulled out his military-issued Beretta M9 pistol. Queen grabbed it and pointed it at Brookes.
“What?” he muttered.
She fired and Brookes closed his eyes. He felt a ting on his forehead. “Ow!” He opened his eyes and he was fine. Everyone was staring at him with wide open eyes. He rubbed the spot where the bullet hit him.
Another soldier picked up the bullet and studied it. The bullet had bounced right off him.
“You all are now Touched,” Queen said. “That doesn’t mean you’re invincible, you’re not immortal, you are not a god. You are a human. You can be injured from the products of the earth, explosions and many other things. So, if you squander this gift I gave you, passing to the Radiant will be the least of your concerns, as you will be wishing for nonexistence.” She gave the general his gun back and walked toward the door. “May you be in our favor.”
…
Brookes stared down at the passing wilderness. He sat in a helicopter as they passed over the green fields of a European landscape. He had his assault rifle at his side. His squad of five in the helicopter with him. They were going to land in thirty.
Most of his squad-mates were doing busy work. Checking their equipment, counting their ammo rounds. Making sure their body armor was strapped tight.
Brookes looked over their agenda and the data on the town they were invading. The town had nothing of value to the gods. It was mostly filled with older people, families. Not fighters.
It was going to be a massacre, and he would be one of the soldiers participating in it. He had to steel his mind. He was going to kill people today. On the order of the gods. Just point and shoot. There was a reason the gods would want these people gone. There had to be.
Patrick stared out the door on the opposite side of the helicopter. Brookes maneuvered over to him. “Are you afraid?”
“Afraid of what?” Patrick asked.
“You know. Battle, war, killing, dying and shit.”
“If what Queen said was true, then I don’t have to worry much about dying.”
“But she said we could still die. What about your kids, your wife? You’re the only one of us who has somebody to go back to.”
“That means I’ll just have to work harder not to die.” Patrick sighed. “I regret telling you about my family, Brookes. If I die, I die.”
“But we’ve never been in anything like this before. We were ordered to kill.”
“Better than the shit we were doing. I joined for a reason.”
“And what reason is that Patrick?”
Patrick shrugged, “We all have our own reasons. If you keep asking me, I’m going to throw you out of the helicopter.”
“Damn, man, I’m just trying to make some small talk. Nice to have you as a squad-mate.”
Brookes sat back in his seat. He checked his watch. Twenty-five minutes until drop. Patrick did nothing to cure his nerves. Brookes worried about him. Seemed like Patrick was looking forward to what they we’re about to do. He had a wife and kids and yet he looked forward to killing families just like his.
It bothered him, but they all joined God’s Hand for a reason. Patrick’s was probably so he could satisfy the need for action inside of him, and Brookes so he could escape his home. They had to do what they had to do to survive.
Nobody else spoke in the helicopter. They all had to steel themselves. They were soldiers. They were soldiers for the gods. The god’s will was the soldier’s way.
The helicopter landed in a clearing in a wooded area. They were ordered to release
their safeties and advanced toward the town. As they went into the woods, Brookes glanced back at the helicopter lifting off. He had studied the map of the operation; it was simple. Several units were dropped off in a circular pattern around the town and were going to move inward.
He saw a shimmer in the air as the helicopter left. It disappeared quickly and he thought nothing of it.
“Move forward!” the squad leader yelled.
They moved through the thicket for five minutes before they met other groups of soldiers on both sides of them. They stopped.
“Into formation, side by side,” the squad leader commanded in a whisper. They must be close. They moved into a single file line side by side, so nobody could get through.
The general walked up next to them. “Move forward.”
They moved forward and stepped out of the trees. “Halt!” the general said. In front of them was Saint Paul. A house with an open backyard was directly in front of Brookes. Houses filled his line of sight. They were breaching a small suburb.
Soldiers stepped out of the trees in a single file line stretching as far as Brookes could see. They must be encircling the town.
“Make sure your safeties are off, boys. Fire on anybody in front of you. I don’t care who it is. If they’re one of us, then they’ll survive.” The general raised his hand.
Patrick turned to Brookes. “No hesitation.”
Gunshots were heard in the air.
A man stepped out of the back door of the house in front of Brookes. “We have to get—” he paused.
His body jerked uncontrollably as dozens of bullets lay into him, and he dropped to the ground, dead. The bullets stopped and sounds of guns reloading echoed in the air.
“Forward,” the general yelled. Everyone moved forward. Brookes approached the house. Beside him soldiers went around the sides of houses and into the other homes. Gunshots and screams rang through the air. Brookes made it to the door, Patrick beside him.
He swung the door open and walked through. An old man stood in front of him. “Now—”
The Men Who Killed God (Sinner of the Infinite Book 1) Page 10