Embers of Empire

by Mark Goodwin

  The trailer door opened behind her. Foley stepped out wearing blue Dickies pants and a blue work shirt with the name Bill embroidered over the pocket.

  Ava looked him over and grinned. “It’s a fine day on the lake, ain’t it, Bill?”

  He came to sit beside her and Buckley. He ran his fingers through her short black hair. “People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. My disguise isn’t nearly so comical as yours.”

  “Like you said, it’s for a good cause.” Ava stroked Buckley’s fur. “How are you planning to get on the roof?”

  “I’ll find the meter box and shut off the water.”

  “How’s that going to get you on the roof?”

  “I’ll tell the front desk that we’re doing emergency plumbing in the building next door and we accidentally tripped a pipe relay. I’ll tell them that I need to reset it so we can turn the water back on.”

  “Tripped a pipe relay? Look, I know nothing about plumbing, but even I know there’s no such thing as a pipe relay. And even if there were, you wouldn’t access it from the roof.”

  “It’s a computerized gauge that regulates water usage in order to conserve water. All older buildings were retrofitted with them last year. The roof is the only place they could be installed.”

  “You’re making all of this up, aren’t you?”

  “You’re fairly deft at critical thinking, but I made you doubt, didn’t I?” Foley winked at her. “Imagine a person educated by the common core public school system, who’s working Sunday morning at the front desk of a hotel.” Foley ticked off the additional factors of the scenario by raising one finger at a time. “One: you know the general manager isn’t there on Sunday morning. Two: the maintenance man is on call for emergencies only. And three: the phone is ringing off the hook with guests wanting to know why their shower isn’t working and telling you how bad they need to flush the toilet.

  “Then I show up; a knight in slightly-greasy armor who’s offering to make all your problems go away. It doesn’t matter if the person knows there’s no such thing as a pipe relay or not. The clerk will want to believe me. And the roof-access key card will be shoved into my hands with pleading eyes, begging me to just get it fixed fast.”

  Ava shook her head. “Did my dad cook up that one?”

  “Concocted it myself.”

  “But he signed off on the ploy?” She lowered her chin and pressed her lips together.

  “Yep. Why? You don’t think it will work?”

  “It probably will, but it takes real bravado to even come up with something like that, much less actually try to pull it off.”

  Foley looked out at the lake. “Less so than being America’s most wanted and walking into an Antifa demonstration with only a box of hair dye and a pair of oversized glasses to hide your identity.”

  “With a bomb,” she added.

  “With a bomb,” he echoed. “Aren’t you nervous?”

  “I am now that you’ve helped clarify the audacious risk I’m assuming here.”

  “Sorry.” He took her hand.

  “You don’t think they’ll be searching backpacks?”

  Foley shook his head. “They can’t search every car and person in a five-block radius. They’ll be strict about what people bring into the stadium, but they don’t have the manpower to control the outside.

  “Woods will be whisked to the service entrance via a heavily-guarded convoy. He’ll never be exposed to the outside of the stadium. They won’t be worried about you.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Ulysses walked up from the direction of the campground office. He held two cups with lids, stacked one on top of the other. “I brought you both some hot chocolate from the canteen.” He handed them the cups then retrieved a package out of his jacket pocket. “And some powdered sugar donuts.”

  “Right on time. Thanks.” Ava took the donuts and tore into them. This particular situation certainly merited a sugar splurge.

  “Didn’t you get any for yourself?” Foley asked.

  “I did. I had mine in the canteen. The attendant was watching the news on television. I wanted to see what was going on. Plus, I wanted to feel out the attendant. He lives here and he’s the only one running the campground.”

  “What impression did he give you?” Ava sipped her hot chocolate.

  “Oh, he hates Markovich alright. I doubt he’ll ever suspect we had anything to do with this afternoon’s news, but if he does, it’s unlikely he’d say anything.”

  “We’ll be gone when the attacks happen, and we’ll return roughly an hour and a half later. It wouldn’t be too difficult to figure out.” Foley snatched a donut from Ava when she wasn’t looking.

  “The attendant pays more attention to the television than who’s coming and going. He’s just passing time.” Ulysses looked at his watch. “We’ll roll out in fifteen minutes. Foley, you’ll go first in your truck. I’ll leave about a minute behind you, to draw less attention from the campsite attendant. We’ll stagger our reentry to camp as well. Stop at that gas station up the road and top off your tank. I’ll meet you there and do the same. Once we return this afternoon, I don’t want to leave camp again until we head back to Sam’s.”

  Ava finished her donuts and hot chocolate under the giant pine tree. Then, she brought Buckley inside the trailer, filling his food and water bowls. “You keep an eye on things around here, Buck. We’ll be back soon.” Ava hoped she was speaking the truth.

  An hour and a half later, Ulysses drove his old truck up Kirby Drive. “Foley’s on the roof. He’ll be in position soon. I’ll let you out on the other side of the pedestrian bridge. That looks like the place where all your comrades are congregating. I’ll be in the strip mall parking lot in two minutes.” Ulysses looked at his watch. “Set your timer on your phone. Flight time for my drone is less than a minute. You need to drop the pack and be walking away three minutes from now. Keep your finger on the trigger, blow your charge a few seconds after you hear the drone detonate.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be. Godspeed.” Ava pulled her skull cap lower on her head and her black bandana up over her mouth. She put her glasses on, stepped out of the vehicle, and slung the deadly backpack over her shoulder.

  “I love you,” Ulysses said.

  “I love you, too, Dad.” Ava swallowed hard and closed the door.

  Ava marched toward the center of the Social Justice Legion’s demonstration area. Hundreds of black-clad youths gathered around the green spaces between the stadium and Kirby Drive. Many of them lined the street carrying professionally-made picket signs. Some read, Join the Revolution, while others said, This is What Social Justice Looks Like, and still others displayed stenciled images of Lenin, Che, or the hammer and sickle.

  As Ava approached the crowd, she held her fist in the air to mimic the actions of the other demonstrators. She joined in the chant which was just starting. “The right is wrong! The right is wrong! The right is wrong!”

  A tall lanky guy walked up to her. He looked her over from head to toe as if to admire her figure. Most of the girls in the crowd seemed to be either obese or anorexic. The young man pulled his hammer-and-sickle bandana down to speak to her. “Hey, just getting here?”

  “Yeah,” she said dismissively.

  “We’ve got more signs over by the fence if you want one.”

  Ava took out her phone to look at the timer. “Maybe when I get back. I’m going to have to find a bathroom soon.”

  “I haven’t seen any port-a-pots. And you can’t get in the stadium without a ticket. You’d probably have to go to that strip mall up the road.”

  Ava looked around. “Yeah, I guess I’ll do that. I’m waiting for my girlfriend.”

  “Oh.” The guy's eyes sank, as if he’d just dropped his lucky quarter down a sewer drain.

  Ava instantly understood why. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s my friend and she’s
a girl, so, you know.”

  His eyes resuscitated. “Oh, right; yeah.”

  Ava said, “Her name is Jenny. She’s really cute. You’ll like her.”

  “Cool.” He nodded nervously. “I’m Delaney.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Mackenzie.”

  He shook her hand. “I heard the leader is going to be asking for recruits to join the army. Normally, that wouldn’t be my thing, but with everything that’s going on, I’m thinking of signing up. What about you?”

  Ava nodded pensively. “I don’t guess it’s fair to want a revolution and not be willing to get my hands dirty. Maybe we’ll end up serving together.”

  Delaney smiled with excitement. “Yeah, that would be cool.”

  Ava looked at her phone again. She had less than a minute to begin walking away.

  “Did Jenny text you?” Delaney inquired.

  “No. But I don’t think I’m going to be able to wait much longer.” Ava pulled the pack off her back and retrieved two water bottles from inside. “Do you want a water?”

  “Sure.” Delaney took it from her.

  Ava opened her water and took a sip. “Would you mind keeping an eye on my pack while I’m gone? It’s full of water and I don’t want to cart it back and forth to the restroom.”

  “Sure. Do you want me to wear it?” he offered.

  “No,” she said a little too loudly. “No, don’t bother yourself. I’ll just leave it by the tree.”

  He nodded. “It’ll be fine. I don’t think anyone would bother it, but I’ll watch out for it just in case.”

  Ava checked her timer again. “Jenny sent me a text. She’s on her way. She’s about my height, blonde hair. If you see someone who fits that description looking around, tell her I’ll be right back.”

  Delaney smiled. “You got it.”

  “See ya.” Ava gave him a flirty smile and walked away.

  She sprinted across the street and looked up to see the drone passing overhead. Ava took a deep breath and braced herself for the explosion about to come.

  BOOOM! The blast echoed through the air.

  Ava turned to look at the protestors. Since the explosion was so far up, they were startled but not running and screaming. All of them were quietly murmuring amongst themselves. The ones with demonstration signs let them fall to the ground as they looked at one another with dismay.

  Delaney yelled across the street. “Are you alright?”

  Ava waved him off and nodded. “I’m fine.”

  “Maybe I should come with you,” he yelled, then turned to retrieve the backpack.

  Ava’s heart stopped. “Oh no!” She put her finger on the trigger. She did not have the heart to detonate the bomb and blow up someone who was trying to help her, even if he was an enemy soldier in waiting. “Please, no!” She watched as he pulled the straps of the pack over his shoulders.

  Ava knew the mission could not fail. This was bigger than her, bigger than Delaney. In all likelihood, he’d have been killed by the blast anyway. Or perhaps he’d only have been severely maimed. At least this way, it would be quick and certain.

  But if she was going to do it, she had to push the button before he turned around. She knew it would be impossible to look him in the eyes while she blew him to smithereens.

  Delaney hoisted the weight of the pack evenly on his shoulders and began to turn around to face her.

  Ava turned away, shielding her face from the death and destruction she would soon unleash. A sense of sickness reverberated from her hand which was holding the detonator. The icky sensation traveled up her arm and down into the pit of her stomach. She quivered at the thought of what she was about to do.

  Click.

  KABOOOOM!!!

  She let the detonator rest inside her pocket and turned to face the carnage she’d just created. People were screaming, bloodied, and running in every direction. Several of the people lay motionless on the lawn. Three bodies had been tossed into the street by the blast. One girl stood screaming, bathed in red and missing her arm. Delaney was nowhere to be found.

  Ava was horrified by what she’d done. So much so, that she felt unembodied like she didn’t know the person in whom her mind now resided. She did not run. She did not turn. She forced herself to look on as a form of self-imposed punishment. Frozen in place, unable to move she witnessed the butchery and gore she’d unleashed.

  Gunfire rang out from the distance. While she stood paralyzed by her own barbarity, Foley was unchaining yet another wave of slaughter. Who have I become? Who are these people I’m with? What have I done?

  Ulysses’ pickup stopped in the street, right between Ava and the massacre, blocking her view.

  “Get in!” Ulysses reached over and pushed the passenger’s side door open.

  Ava did not move, did not blink.

  Ulysses jumped out, ran to the other side and pushed her into the vehicle. He closed her door and rushed back to the driver’s seat. He shoved the shifter into gear and sped away.

  Ulysses jerked the earphones out of his phone and put it on speaker. “Foley, we’re coming to you! What’s your status?”

  “On my way down right now.”

  “Roger that.” Ulysses raced south on Kirby while three police cars with lights flashing drove the other direction.

  Seconds later, Ulysses said, “Foley, I’m passing beneath the underpass. I need to know that you are at least in your vehicle and out of the parking lot before I get on the interstate. If you get in a pinch, I’d have a hard time helping you.”

  “Taking the stairs, sir. I’ve got one flight remaining. Truck’s right outside.” Foley sounded winded.

  “Roger. I’ll slow my pace.” Ulysses turned left onto the I-610 frontage road.

  Ava said nothing. Her mind was overloaded.

  Ulysses drove past the first on-ramp and crossed Fannin Street.

  “I’m on the road. Coming up on the underpass now,” Foley said.

  “Good! Stay back a few car lengths, but close enough for me to see you.” Ulysses took the next on-ramp heading west onto I-610.

  No one spoke for the next half hour. The escape route took them north onto I-69 and directly through downtown Houston. Tensions were high. Ulysses' knuckles turned white gripping the steering wheel.

  Once they passed the airport, Ulysses let out a sigh and loosened his grasp. “We’re a good twenty-five miles away from the stadium. Our odds of getting away are improving by the second. But I need you to be ready to engage if we get in trouble.”

  Ava stared blankly out the front windshield.

  “This is what I was trying to explain to you. War changes you. It changes how you see things, what you think about yourself, and the way you feel about everyone else. People can tell you all about it, but until you’ve felt it for yourself, you don’t really know what they’re talking about.

  “I never wanted this for you, Ava.”

  She listened quietly in her pain. Her lip quivered. Her chin wrinkled. The first tear to race down her cheek was soon followed by many more.

  She remained silent and motionless except to wipe her face with her sleeve every few minutes.

  A half an hour later, Ulysses checked his rearview, then exited the interstate. The rural roads which would take them back to camp were lined with trees and fences, cattle and fields. Farmhouses and an occasional building dotted the peaceful landscape.

  Ava fixated on a small country church as they drove by. She broke her silence. “I’m a monster.”

  “You’re not,” Ulysses rebutted.

  “I blew that kid up. He was only trying to help me.”

  “Ava, I don’t know exactly what happened back there, but no one in that gathering had any legitimate intention of helping you. Especially if they’d known who you really were.”

  She sobbed louder, trying to speak between her wails. “Some guy, Delaney was his name, he offered to watch my pack.” She wiped her tears with her slee
ve and sniffed in a labored breath. “When the drone detonated, he tried to pick up my pack and bring it to me.” Her face contorted with sorrow and guilt. “And I blew him up.”

  Ulysses reached across the seat to put his hand on her knee. “You did what you had to do.”

  She shook her head and cried. Ava pulled her legs toward the door and away from her father’s touch.

  Ulysses put his hand back on the wheel. “Our tactics are unconventional. They’re vicious in their appearance, but that kid isn’t any more dead than if you’d shot him with a rifle. Actually, it was far less painful for him than dying from a gunshot wound.

  “I understand it doesn’t look that way to you. The explosion, it was shocking. That’s part of the design. Our ultimate goal is to break the will of the enemy. It’s the only way we win.”

  “Nobody is gonna win.” Ava turned her head toward the side window. “And I’m a cold-blooded murderer.”

  Ulysses kept his face forward. “Let’s unpack that. And we’ll start with the cold-blooded part. How many cold-blooded killers do you suppose have a crisis of conscience like the one you’re having right now?”

  Ava said nothing.

  “It’s not a rhetorical question. Give it a stab. 50 percent? 30 percent? 10 percent? I’m waiting.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “I do.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Do you want to know the answer?”

  “Whatever.”

  “Either you want to know or you don’t. You’re convicting yourself of heinous crimes against humanity over there in your seat. I’d think you’d want the data so you can formulate an informed verdict. After all, juries often decide cases based on what a reasonable person would do. If you’re going to condemn my daughter, I’d at least like to make sure she gets a fair trial.”

  “A reasonable person wouldn’t have done what I did.”

  “Ah! You’re jumping to conclusions. We need to hear all of the evidence. No courtroom in the country would allow a trial to be so abbreviated.”