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Anarchy Page 19

by Rhett Gervais


  “C’mon, Arty; let's get going. Everyone's waiting.”

  Arthur nodded, falling in line behind his friend, knowing the real reason Uriel wanted to hurry. Gwen would be waiting for him. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the bitterness from his face. Uriel was his friend, and despite his anger at Gwen, he would be happy for him. But watching him walk, he couldn’t help but want to smash his artificial skull to bits.

  Chapter 22: Too Smart for His Own Good

  May 2076

  The waiting only made the butterflies in her tummy more restless. She wondered if this was what normal people felt like. The uncontrollable smiles, the wandering thoughts. It was alien to her. She never understood how relationships worked when nothing was exchanged. From her mother and father, to Brandon, to strange men for money, all the way to the major-bishop, her life had always been transactional. She was smart enough to know that.

  They stood in the shadow of the knife, the tower’s strange light muted by the pink-and-vermillion glow of the early morning sun peeking over the towers in the distance. A few hundred Russian soldiers and a handful of what was left of Rowen’s militia milled around what was once the main command center for the Russian forces in New York, a command center she had leveled not long ago. They had managed to create a makeshift staging area, hoping that when all was said and done the area would be used for receiving reinforcements to secure the city, and hopefully the rest of the East Coast.

  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she saw him, walking ahead of Arthur, glowing brightly despite the morning sun, streaks of gold and silver dancing around him. Gwen had to restrain herself, her breath quickening. She wanted to bounce in place and clap like a character from an anime, but she was confused as to what to do next. Did she run to him like in a holo-vid, or wait for him to come to her? Uriel answered the question for her. He ran to her, a wide grin plastered over his metallic features. Laughing like an idiot, she buried her face in his chest, amazed at how good he smelled, a sweet mix of sweat, soap, and a clean uniform. It took her a moment to realize she was warm, bright comets circling the two of them, soothing her cuts and bruises, silencing the tickle that had taken up permanent residence in the back of her throat.

  “Are you ok? Sorry, when I get excited, they get stronger,” he said, holding her at arm’s length to look at her. Gwen suddenly remembered how she looked, shredded uniform stained with blood down the front, hair a mess, her pale face covered in dirt. She had managed to borrow a jacket from one of the Russians—Timur, Rowen had called him—so that she wouldn’t have the pale skin of her breasts exposed to the world, but for the most part, she had looked better.

  “I’m fine. You should see the other guy,” she said, trying to make light of her appearance, touched that he was more worried if she was hurt than about how she looked. Grateful, she touched his cheek again before falling back into his arms, content.

  They were interrupted suddenly by Rowen, her gun pointed at Arthur, her scarred face redder than her fiery hair. Gibbs stood behind her with his eyes downcast. Arthur stood with his chin raised, arms locked behind his back. Gwen knew that look. It was the same look he’d given Tammy, that poor clerk in the police station the night they had met. The same look had been on his face when he left her to die, and just yesterday when he had paralyzed her. It was the look he gave when he outplayed someone.

  “This was the plan. We agreed,” he said, speaking slowly, his face a mask of calm. “We can end the war here and now. We can build a future, but only if we make the hard choices.”

  Gwen regretfully stepped away from Uriel’s warm embrace to confront the two of them, the pulsing tower in the backdrop casting a weak glow over all of them. “What the hell? We just won, guys. Can’t you take a minute not to be dicks to one another?”

  Raising an eyebrow, Arthur turned to her, his tone one used with children. “What did we win? Nothing. We’ve just stopped them from advancing. We need to strike fast…and for that, I need Gibbs to cooperate.”

  “If you want it so bad, you can shove a crystal in your chest and do it yourself. This isn’t what I signed up for, at least not like you wanna do it,” said Gibbs, his words spilling out in a torrent as he shook his head.

  Gwen narrowed her eyes, not sure what was going on. “There's a really easy way to fix this shit,” she said, tapping on the comm in her ear. “Captain Macdonald, this is Gwen. Have you been listening, sir? We need instructions.”

  Getting no response, she frowned, tapping her ear again, hearing nothing but static.

  “Don’t bother trying,” said Rowen. “Gibbs told me this asshole is the one responsible for blocking comm traffic. He knows my father would never agree to what he wants.”

  “Arthur, what the fuck is going on?” said Gwen, heat in her voice.

  Arthur closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was just about to speak when Gibbs interrupted, “He wants to kill everyone. He doesn’t just want to stop the drones, he wants to kill soldiers, every last one, on both sides, end any chances of anyone challenging him.”

  Gwen cocked her head, not sure she understood. “Is that even possible? I mean, I’m no genius, but if they could’ve, why wouldn’t the Russians have done that from the start, just killed us all and gotten it over with?”

  Gibbs shook his head, his blue eyes darting back and forth between all of them. “The tower is like a central hub for their communications. It acts as an amplifier for their signal. They couldn’t do what you’re saying, but Arthur… The tower, it amplifies his natural abilities. With it, he can control any machine, ours, theirs, every computer that’s not shielded. Hell, he could fire off a few nukes and end the world if he wanted.”

  “Just wait a minute,” said Arthur, putting his palms up. “It's not like that. I just want to deter any attack, eliminate threats. If they know what we’re capable of here, they’ll be too frightened to make a move. It will end the war, give us time to establish a border. Create a new nation—peace!”

  “Yeah, by killing hundreds of thousands of—” Rowen stopped suddenly, cocking her head before narrowing her eyes, her face creased with worry. “You asshole.”

  “What’s going on?” said Gwen, her eyes looking between the two of them, wondering what she’d missed.

  Rowen gave her a wry smile. “I have a smart device circling above, watching the area. I can see the drones he’s deployed, the small ones that blow off your head. I thought you needed Gibbs to do that, asshole.”

  Arthur laughed, a cruel bark. “I can control enough of them with my natural abilities. Give me Gibbs, and we all get to walk away. If not…”

  With a deep sigh, Uriel stepped out from behind Gwen. “Arty, what the hell, buddy, I don’t get it. We're all on the same side here; we’re all friends,” he said, reaching out. He was just about to put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder when he began to violently spasm, his normal glow winking out in a heartbeat, a horrible rattle escaping from his throat as he fell to the grass.

  “I’ve always hated that name,” said Arthur in a biting tone, his gaze washing over everyone. “I’ll make this very easy: Give me what I want. If you don’t, I use the drones, kill everyone here that’s not ascended. I’ll kill Uriel if Gwen takes a single step toward me.”

  “You forgot about me, asshole,” said Rowen, assuming a two-handed grip, pointing her Mark II directly at Arthur’s head.

  Arthur raised his chin a little higher, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “You have a choice. Kill me, but the drones coming in have their orders, and they won’t stop. They’ll kill everyone here. The war goes on, and you don’t get to go home. Or we can do what we planned all along, and some people you’ve never met, who would most likely see you dead given the chance, will be sacrificed for the greater good.”

  Gwen rushed to Uriel’s side, turning him onto his back and cradling his head, watching helplessly while he fought for breath. She knew exactly how he felt, the burning pain, the weakness. It had been her not so long ago. She
looked to see Rowen seething, teeth clenched. “If he dies, you die, Arthur,” she whispered, her scarred face growing redder with each passing moment.

  Arthur shook his head, a knowing look on his face. Glancing over at her, he began, “You remember what the major-bishop used to say, Gwen. No attachments. O’Connell, Cardinal Washington, they got that part right. Look where it's gotten you. They were wrong about a lot, but when it came to that one, they were right. Now, get me the gun and kill the redhead or Uriel will die. He looks like he's got about a minute or so before brain damage sets in, so I wouldn’t think about it too long.”

  Before she could move, Rowen raised a hand to stop her. “We’re not doing things your way, Arthur,” she said bluntly, adjusting her aim.

  Gwen flinched suddenly, her eyes wide with shock when the first ear-shattering boom exploded from Rowen’s gun, drilling into Arthur’s belly and knocking him from his feet. Reflexively, she threw herself over Uriel’s spasming form, shielding him with her body. Another deafening roar made her look up to see the blood drain from Arthur’s face as his hands covering his belly came away with blood. He spasmed as Rowen shot him again in the stomach.

  “You’ll be in pain for hours with that,” said Rowen, keeping her gun leveled at Arthur, who wailed in pain, his hands held tight at his gaping wound. “My father, he’s seen people die in lots of ways. He told me it’s a painful way to go.”

  Arthur tried to sit up, only to whimper, his eyes squeezed shut as he rolled onto his side, breathing in short sharp gasps. He raised a hand, palm out, as Rowen took aim for another shot. “Wait, you’re just going to let everyone die?” he said in a small voice, glaring at her from the corner of his eye.

  Rowen nodded, causing her wild mane to bounce wildly. “Yes. We'll be casualties, but so will you. With two bullets in the gut, you’ll bleed out slow and painful. Uriel’s your best chance to live now, so unless you stop doing what you're doing to him and turn back the drones, you're done for. You can try and kill me, but the last thing I’ll do is put a bullet in your head before I go. No matter what you do here, you die too.”

  Gwen could see Arthur’s eyes darting back and forth. She knew him well enough to see his mind was racing, calculating every possibility. “If you kill me, the war is lost. The Russians will keep pushing, and they’ll win eventually.”

  “You didn’t get to meet the thing we fought earlier, or I guess you would understand there are other options. We may not win, but the Russians will be stopped for now.”

  His brows drew together, not understanding. “But I—”

  “We’re out of time. Decide or die,” said Rowen, her tone final.

  Arthur slumped back, resting his dark curls on the morning grass, a hoarse cough staining his lips red. He let out a slow, controlled breath, blinking at the sky…and the horrible noise of the approaching swarm stopped suddenly, giving way to deafening silence. Gwen let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, her body shaking with relief. She felt weak and tired, wanting nothing more than to bury her face in the grass and cry.

  Moments later, she felt Uriel’s strong arms encircle her, his soft whisper in her ear. She rested her head on his chest, comforted by the steady rhythm of his heart. Not far away, she could see Arthur continue struggling for breath, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Gwen felt conflicted, her past dying beside her, her future beside her. Some small part of her reflexively wanted to go to Arthur, comfort him. But when she looked at him, she didn’t see any trace of her friend. She saw past his mask of calm, seeing the monster. A man fueled by rage and hate. Gwen felt a pang in her belly, frightened of what he might do.

  “Uriel—” She halted, words lost as Rowen appeared suddenly above Arthur, a wild look in her eye as she squeezed the trigger a final time, a roaring thunder sounding across the quiet park. Arthur’s pale face froze in shock for an instant before his eyes closed. When it was done, Rowen squatted over him, checking his pulse and nodding to herself. She stood after a moment, holstering her weapon, her face a mask of calm.

  Gwen fell back on her haunches, mouth agape, watching blood trickling from the side of his head, struggling to understand what they had done.

  Chapter 23: Sunrise on the Reservoir

  May 2076

  “Why did you kill him?” croaked Gwen, finding her voice at last, slowly rising to her feet and helping Uriel do the same. Rowen turned her back to them now, her focus needed on the tower. She knew they would have only a few minutes at best. The sun had finally banished the lingering traces of night, leaving a clear sky that mirrored the cobalt blue of the reservoir spread out before them, the muted tower in the foreground. Timur had taken charge of the Russians who, now that the threat was gone, had gone back to chatting, eating what food they could, and scrounging from the supplies of the destroyed base, waiting.

  “He’s not dead,” said Rowen, not bothering to look back. She was sure of it. “My shot just grazed his skull. I need him out of the picture, so leave him be…both of you.”

  She could hear Gwen and Uriel moving behind her, a small gasp coming from the blonde when she realized Rowen was telling the truth.

  “Why? Arty’s an ass, but like he said, he could have ended this right now,” said Uriel, watching the tower with her now, his arms folded over his wide chest, the morning sunlight dancing across the thin metal lines that defined his features. She watched as his glow intensified, hundreds, thousands, a maelstrom of streaking comets encompassing the three of them before he squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, muting them to a dull glow. “Sorry, they keep doing that.”

  Rowen couldn’t complain; whatever he was doing felt wonderful. She felt a brief jolt of summer heat as all of her aches and pains vanished, her fatigue washing away. She brushed back her duster, her hands resting comfortably on the holsters at her hips. “At what cost? We give up one enemy for another. He’ll murder innocent people to make his vision come true, and after, when he's firmly in power, what's to stop him from killing some more every time he feels like expanding his little kingdom? No, we stop this here and now,” said Rowen, frowning as she watched Uriel slip an arm around Gwen’s shoulders, pulling her close.

  “So what's your plan?” asked Gwen once again, her eyes darting back to Arthur’s prone form.

  Rowen took a deep breath, running a hand through her tangled mess of hair. “We need to destroy the tower.”

  “Well, that’s a shitty idea,” replied Gwen, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve taken a lot of drugs, and even at my worst, never have I ever had an idea that stupid.”

  “That thing we fought, it was covered in the same crystal as the tower,” said Rowen, not daring to say it was her brother. “My SIG knocked off chunks of crystal every time a shot landed. I even managed to remove some of the armor around its hand, and look.”

  Rowen raised a freckled hand, pointing to a spot at the base of the tower that appeared to have a fine web of lines crawling up its side. “Whatever you did when you landed cracked the tower. I saw it when we first arrived after the battle. We can destroy this thing, cripple the Russian tech advantage and keep it away from Arthur at the same time.”

  Gwen pursed her lips, wrapping her arms around herself. “It wasn’t the landing. I did it after the hornets started attacking me. I can do this thing where I slam my palms together to generate a shockwave. It’s really dangerous, and I can barely control it most of the time, to be honest. I don’t know if it would even work; I’ve only done it twice…and the first time, in D.C., people died because of me—regular people, not soldiers. I killed families, moms and dads, kids too. I can’t.”

  “You can make up for that today,” said Rowen, putting a hand on Gwen’s shoulder. “Those soldiers Arthur wanted to kill have people waiting for them to come home. You can keep those families together.”

  “Leave her alone,” said Uriel, raising his voice. “She's right. It's a crazy idea to try and destroy that thing. We need a real plan, not some half-brained—”

 
Just as Rowen was about to answer that it was the only way, Uriel spasmed again, his entire body contorting like a pretzel. The tall man pushed them away, his hands bent like claws gripping at his temples. His glow intensified dervishes of silver-and-gold comets expanding and exploding all around him. Rowen could feel the subtle itch of sweat forming on her scalp, tiny rivulets of water streaming down her temples and forehead as the heat intensified. Gwen wrapped an arm around him, her eyebrows knitted together in worry.

  A hollow rattle behind Rowen sent a chill down her spine. She looked back to where she had left Arthur, half expecting to see him sitting with a smug look of triumph on his face. She was shocked to only see the wide-eyed boy with dark circles under his eyes fighting for breath, a bloodstained hand raised to shade himself from the blinding glare. Gwen held Uriel protectively, her head turned away from the maelstrom of light that continued to grow, expanding with each passing moment like a hungry inferno.

  Raising a hand to shield her eyes, Rowen stomped over to where Arthur lay clutching at his belly. She crouched beside him, roughly grabbing him by his collar. “Are you doing this!? Make it stop!” she screamed, shaking him hard.

  Arthur’s body heaved from a wracking cough, his lips stained red as he struggled for breath. “I couldn’t control a door lock right now,” he said between shallow breaths, gripping tight to Rowen’s hands at his collar. “Uriel’s abilities have always been unstable. Since they first manifested, he’s had problems. He just hides it well,” began Arthur, looking past her shoulder to the storm of intense light that was Uriel, Gwen still at his side. With a grunt, he continued. “Usually kids like him are put down early. When they lose control, they make what Gwen did in D.C. look like a firecracker.”

  Cursing, Rowen ordered everyone within earshot to leave the area, hoping the few people close by would convey the message. Thinking quickly, she put Timur and Blake in charge, telling them to make their way to Battery Park, hoping the area was safer than the last time she was there.

 

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