by Phillip Shaw
Taking the keys he left the man happy with the others. Perhaps in the future, they would remember the night the Irishman borrowed their friends' car. Perhaps not.
The car itself wasn't anything to look at. It was dusty and had spots of rust but it had once been a thing of beauty. The man stood beside him. ‘1980 Chevrolet Corvette, if those seats could talk. I've been looking to get rid of it for a while. You'd be doing me a favour.' The colour reminded Libero of the dirtiest ocean. He expected seaweed to adorn the hood. It would serve its purpose. He was not prepared for the look on Pamela's face when he pulled up in it.
‘Would it not be easier to stuff a sock down there?' he didn't grasp her meaning.
Pamela had wanted to drive but when he turned up in that car outside the diner she let it go. Pamela didn't ask how he got it; she had stopped asking any questions like that. Coates was like a snake charmer. He had managed to get out of certain lawful death and then escape a high-security prison that had turned into a slaughterhouse. She sat in the passenger seat looking around the interior of the vehicle. It definitely belonged to a man. Empty beer tin, bottle of cologne and well-used ashtray. Her mother had warned her about ever getting into a car like this and here she was heading for the state lines with a client of hers. She looked at him again. He was calm, it radiated from him. She felt calm around him in fact since the episode in the execution room he had been like a lodestone to her feelings. She sat still, pretending to sleep. No point in making small talk. In fact, small talk was what was needed here. They had no plan apart from leaving the state. Like a chase movie, after all, he was a film director this could be an inspiration for him.
Billboards passed the corner of her eye, advertising diners, restrooms and retail outlets. They wouldn't be stopping tonight. Drive through the night; stop for breakfast then I can plan a way out of this mess. Will I be the planner? She hadn't been in charge of this situation yet. Coates wasn't normal to her, a film director, suspected rapist, sentenced to death for the murder of a minor, Irish. He shouldn't be just cruising at the speed limit along the highway. She thought it must be a dream but every time she opened her eyes he was there, dark haired, pale faced brown eyes and intoxicating. He drew her in; he had done since she was assigned the case. Well, he is the first I have gotten off death row. She had known he was innocent, just naïve, the wrong place at the wrong time. The ferocity of the state's case against him was surprising to her. Almost as soon as she went in to meet him she had been greeted by the governor. She had hated him. The radio reports of the riot said he had been murdered in the melee. It always seemed like the governor had his way with her in previous cases. James was the first that made her fight back. She worked all hours, she researched, looked for loopholes. It had cost her a social life, her partner had left her she lived and breathed for this case and just when things had seemed their darkest there had been a reprieve. It felt right to her, whatever this path was, she was meant to be on it. Whether it felt right or not she was still terrified or exhilarated she didn't know which.
‘Don't worry; we are heading the right way.' Said Libero sensing her fears. He had begun to sense more from her, the longer they were together. He had always surrounded himself with people who could feel the enemy, his army his followers. They had been easy to find in the past, they were like rebels in oppressive lands. They felt what was wrong and fought against it. This world, this time, it was different. He had felt no others in the prison until he touched the mind of the guard. They had formed a bond he had detected the ability in him after that. It must have been him who killed the enemy. He would have been useful. He could have been the first. The appearance of the females with the symbol had also worried him. That symbol was the crest of the enemy. He remembered the banners, the insignia on the armour. Countless duels had been won against it, one had been lost. Had it survived the last battle? In any case, the feelings coming from the woman beside him told him that he would have to show her who he was soon. He sensed it in her, a seed, a small trickle of freedom, she could see them now. That was new.
The sun had now set completely as the car cruised over the rise. Libero caught sight of a flash in the rear view mirror. Another vehicle approached from behind. Pamela was sleeping now, she was dreaming peacefully. The lights were growing brighter. He eased off the gas to let them pass. They didn't go around, the vehicle drew closer. There were no other cars on the road. The lights began flashing. It was the Police. He pulled into the side of the road. He'd have to get out of this. Pamela began to stir and he felt her anxiety. ‘Stay still'
The officer parked behind them and got out. Walking towards the car Libero kept a close eye on his reflection in the mirror. Closer, closer he felt nothing from him. He was happy in his job he had no obvious fears or worries to exploit. He wasn't under pressure, he was either at his peak or he was influenced. The next few moments would tell.
‘Licence and registration please'
‘I haven't got any'
‘Step out of the vehicle and put your hands on the roof.' The officer's tone changing. Libero did as he was told. The man frisked him. ‘What are you and the girl doing out here at this time of night.'
‘Driving'
‘Sir, open the trunk'
The last jibe had done it, had he been a free mind he would have felt the anger. He could have found a way in and used it. He was going to have to escape. If I free him it will be noticed and who knows what effect it has in this age. The freeing of the executioner had unexpectedly made him a denouncer but the sudden freeing of the others had caused the bloodbath in the prison. The power in this world was very much in flux and Libero had to be cautious.
Pamela was still sitting frozen with fear in the passenger seat. He walked around to the trunk, he hadn't even opened it. There had been no need, they travelled light. Pamela was still in her business suit and he had taken trousers from the laundry van. The prison clothes were long gone. He opened the trunk. The officer suddenly began screaming at him to get down. As Libero looked around time seemed to slow, the fight in the prison had shown that his battle instincts had been reborn with him. He saw the officer reaching for the gun and threw a kick to his knee, the officer buckled but he wasn't done, Libero couldn't afford to just kill him yet. A simple knee to the face dazed him and Libero slammed the trunk down and jumped into the driver's seat. Gunning the throttle he left the officer standing in a hail of stones and dust. Pamela only now spoke. ‘What did you do? Why couldn't you just make him listen? Like the others?'
‘Later!' he yelled checking the rear-view as the lights of the cruiser appeared again. He needed free of this chase, they had to go into hiding at least until he saw what Pamela was becoming. The road which had been so peaceful to cruise on now looked desperately flat and straight. No chance to use the car's ability. The lights grew closer again until they were illuminating the night. The driver behind was crazed now swerving this way and that. Libero needed to do something fast. The officer nudged the rear of the car trying to send it into a spin. The vintage sports-car barely survived and the rear wheels felt like they were coming off the rims. He feinted left then went the whole way and slammed the brakes. The officer being fooled with the feint shot past on the right. Libero struggled with the gears to get going again, Pamela screamed. The officer had tried to swing the vehicle around at speed as Libero looked up he could feel what was about to happen. Any other time the manoeuvre would have placed the officer facing his pursuer but he hadn't seen a small rock on the right-hand side of the highway. The rear nearside tire clipped the wheel sending the car into a flip. There was no time to waste Libero slammed it into first and lit the wheels up again. A glance back told him the officer wouldn't be following. The car was on its roof not for the first time. He looked back to the road. In this light it would take a while to find the crash scene, he didn't care, the road ahead stretched on.
17. It Sets You Free
Pamela looked at him in horror. The escape from the prison had seemed like a necessity.
The crumpled wreckage of the patrol car behind stirred different emotions, he didn't have to die. Coates or whatever he was just stared ahead. She knew this had to stop, she had to make him listen and above all, she needed the truth.
He was like an amplifier for her emotions, she only needed to think something and he answered to make her feel better. That changed when the cruiser flipped in their wake. They had killed a police officer just doing his job. Not directly but they may as well have run him over. He could have a family; he could be someone good, better than us, anyway.
‘Don't grieve for him. He was already dead.'
So he speaks now, about time. She glared at her companion. All the wonder of the flight from the prison had evaporated and for the first time, Pamela felt that this was not the right path.
‘I sense you have concerns, it's time to explain.'
Pamela sat there slack-jawed at those last words. No prising it out of him, no bullshit, in fact, she hadn't even asked him what was going. In a few moments, Pamela Harding would wish she could hide her emotions from him.
Libero sensed the apprehension; she was shocked at those last words. He had to tell her everything now, tell her, then deal with the consequences. The people he had met so far suggested that this world was well under the control of the enemy. He hadn't needed to do a speech in the other ages his presence had been enough, the minds of this age they were so complex to him. The only option he could see was to lay it out in front of her and so he began.
‘The person whom you knew as James Coates is no more, His memories reside inside me but he has fulfilled his role in this life he was to be my host. I have been reborn into this world to free to from the shackles imposed on it by my enemy…our enemy. I have no name, in the last age, my followers called me ‘Libero' to them it meant champion of free will. When enough people in the world reject the boundaries in front of them, I have enough power to awaken. That time has come now, just as it has six times previously. Until now my enemy has prevailed over me, the control has grown, people have not been able to realise their potential, the power in the world is held by the few at the expense of the deserving, but, this time, I sense something different… the minds I have touched so far… your mind… they're different. They react to me differently than before. I feel your strength, you will be with me in this, and you will grow to be a denouncer of the restrictions placed upon others. You are with me!'
Libero waited to feel the emotions coming from the other side of the car. Relieved he felt nothing but acceptance. The tightrope of emotions in Pamela's mind had been traversed again. She was willing to accept more.
Pamela sat listening to this monologue coming from the driver. In her mind it made no sense, it would make no sense in any conversation, she felt like opening her door and jumping out there and then. Death by the road seemed preferable to whatever plans this mad man had for her. But something about him said that it was true. She felt her heart slowing; the speech was having the effect of an ice bath on her panic. She listened on, there was more to come, she opened herself to accept this knowledge.
‘Our plan… My destiny is to gather myself an army. I need to find followers like you, people who can see what's going on. If I can't find them maybe I will make them. The realisation must be inside you Pamela; it must be inside others like you. Some could have revealed themselves already; the rest will need me before the end. My executioner in the prison, he was like us, I touched his mind, felt what was wrong in his life and suggested he try something different. He had been under the control of my enemy, his mind just like yours was not completely his own. A glass ceiling existed to him. I showed him he could power through it; I also showed him who put it there.'
‘The Governor…' Pamela whispered.
‘Yes, he was a servant of my enemy, the one who has defeated me each time we met in battle. If I am able to walk on this earth then he will also have manifested himself in the same way. He was known as Arbitan. He is born to defend the way things are. He is the enemy of ambition, free will, and creativity. He is here because I am here. Fate decides the next generations. It has never allowed me the chance to shape this world, to allow the sentient beings of this world to shape their own destinies. I have to believe that this time is different. The people are ready for me, they are rejecting his chains. I need to seek out others, denouncers.'
‘You've never won? What if the reason for that is that he is meant to win? The world has existed for millennia with him winning. You could herald the end of life as we know it, and I'm sitting in a muscle car with you. It's ridiculous!' Pamela said her tone becoming more assertive.
‘Listen to your mind, feel the difference now. Before in the prison you were not yourself, you couldn't get out of first gear, you failed for no reason and you gave up. You know it, the fact you are arguing with me shows it. You are free, you have your mind back, you can do what you want….' With that he slammed on the brakes, the car skidding to face perpendicular to the horizon.
‘Get out. You have been freed. It is your choice now. But remember, it won't be like it was. You are growing into a denouncer; you will see the authority in the world for what it really is, a spider's web of influence stopping the people of this world from achieving their potential. Can you live with that?'
Libero got the answer he needed without words. Pamela reached round and adjusted her seatbelt. Her mind was still in turmoil but she knew that the point of no return had passed. She would be with him to the end, he had to nurture her, see what she developed into. Without explanation and guidance she could become something worse, something that murdered or killed itself, he had felt it in the prison. The guard hadn't had this reasoning his mind had melted; he had killed the governor the release had been too sudden, the images of the prisoners had brought old memories flooding back.
Centuries ago Libero stood on flat grassland. The mountain range in the background seemed to frame the battlefield for a deity to watch. The forces of his enemy had the high ground. He saw the generals each of them with a battalion of troops willing to walk through a fire at the whim of their commanders. Beyond that he saw the enemy himself, standing in defence of the temple. Arbitan stood pacing across the lines of his personal defence force, he was impatient, and he wanted to lead the attack himself. He was the most powerful warrior in the world, a military genius, he was unbeatable. The power in him flowed from the minds of everyone under his general's control. He had the knowledge of the best generals, the skills of the best fighters and he knew everything that had ever been known. To weaken him Libero would have to cut down his forces, he would take his weapons away he would make this a duel. The first strikes were vicious on both sides. Flaming carcases were hurled into the advancing forces.
His force didn't need a rousing speech. As free minds, they knew who they fought against. The banners of the enemy flowed in the wind, the inverted red, orbed triangle, sign of the magister was held high above the enemy groups. The opposition forces were laid out in perfect squares. They were defensive, the controlling influence at the heart protected against any penetration. Libero hadn't given his force orders. They marched as one, willing to give everything so the world could be free. They didn't have a drumbeat, no songs of battle, they marched in a reverential silence, the only sound the footsteps and clinking of armour and weapons. This was a forlorn hope a distraction. From the marshland, Libero's elite sprung to life. The strongest, the most inspirational of his troops emerged and waited, they had their orders they were going after the generals. The first of his troops reached the enemy squares and he heard the sounds of battle. No matter the age no matter the cause the sound of war was the same. Screams, pleadings, unanswered prayers and cries of relief to him the battle was always about relief. Relief that you had killed your foe, relief that you would live and for the vanquished relief from the hell that the killing ground becomes. This killing ground was no exception; he could already see bodies piling at the front of the squares. His force was breaking like waves on the rocks. The
easternmost square was particularly vicious in its attack. The general at the heart was even visible driving his force on and slicing into the attackers with a huge barbed sword. In a moment, one of Libero's elite saw his opportunity. Weaving between the fallen with twin blades at his hands Libero saw a face he recognised, Jemral one who he had discovered early in this age. He had already helped him destroy many enemy outposts on the march to the battlefield but now he could be about to strike the first blow in the battle.
Too late Jemral saw the barbed sword swing. It caught him high on the leg, the spurt of blood visible even at this distance. He fell and the enemy walked on. Libero looked away, sadness and frustration in his heart. He knew the time would come when he would step onto the field. He hoped that he would have the energy to face Arbitan. The squares of the enemy were the correct tactic they were holding the long line of the denouncers. More and more bodies piles at their front. Libero knew if the squares reached the body of his army then all was lost…again.
Suddenly a collection of screams drew his attention back to the easternmost square. The general was visible but all around him were holding their heads, screaming a sickening sound. A glance up to the temple confirmed what had happened. Arbitan was also fixated on this section of the battlefield. He could feel it, the general had gone. Libero caught a final triumphant glimpse of Jemral, both blades buried deep in the back of the enemy emerging from his chest. The enemy forces moments ago under complete control now attacked both their allies and their foes with an uncontrollable wild bloodlust. The eastern square began to break and claw at the square next to it. The men in the squares weren't human anymore; some had thrown down their blades and clawed at the people around them. Men were torn apart and the blood flowed into the earth. The second square broke and the general was exposed, his own men ripped at his flesh and the power he controlled died. Unlike before the minds under this one's control simply broke the fell to the ground like a marionette without strings, consumed by the rage of their comrades and trampled by Libero's force. The dam had burst the battle was finely poised. A glance up to the temple showed Arbitan, those deaths had grabbed his attention and he now stalked with his elite guard to the field of murder… murder…kill…victim…trunk!