The Unexpected War

by Jean-pierre Breton

  The

  Unexpected

  War

  A Hero’s Legend

  Jean-Pierre Breton

  iUniverse, Inc.

  Bloomington

  The Unexpected War

  A Hero’s Legend

  Copyright © 2012 by Jean-Pierre Breton

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

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  Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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  ISBN: 978-1-4620-7723-6 (sc)

  ISBN: 978-1-4620-7724-3 (hc)

  ISBN: 978-1-4620-7725-0 (e)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2011962706

  Printed in the United States of America

  iUniverse rev. date: 01/12/2012

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 1

  “Aunty 159, will you tell me a bedtime story?” the little girl asked, looking up at the young lab assistant.

  “Sure, anything for you, 2-5,” the young woman replied. She tousled the child’s hair and then readjusted her own long white lab coat, which had slipped off her shoulder.

  2-5 smiled, looking around as they walked down the dimly lit hall. “Aunty 159, how come I have my own room?” she asked curiously as she glanced through window after window at young human boys and young fiend girls.

  Both species were segregated into their own sealed-off white rooms in groups of five or six. Before 159 could answer, she felt a tug on her arm as 2-5 came to an abrupt halt. The child knelt down and stared through one of the windows at a young fiend. It walked over to her, placing its tiny paw against the window and tilting its head curiously. 2-5 smiled warmly, placing her hand against the window where the fiend’s paw was.

  The fiend returned the smile, faintly revealing its tiny, razor-sharp teeth before letting out a muffled growl and scampering away to join a play-fight with its friends. 2-5 giggled to herself, watching the little girl fiends play-fighting with one another. Their black fur flew all over the place. 2-5 got back up to her feet, glancing over at 159, who was waiting patiently for her.

  “You’re very special, 2-5,” the young woman said, taking the little girl’s hand again as they walked down the narrow hall. The echo of their footsteps seemed to chase them.

  After a moment of walking in silence, the pair stopped in front of a tightly sealed door with metal bars jutting across it, resembling a bank vault. 159 typed a code on the door, and then it opened, revealing 2-5’s tidy white room. “Would you like a glass of milk before story time?” 159 asked.

  The little girl nodded her head vigorously. 159 smiled and went over to the fridge in 2-5’s room. She took out the milk and poured a glass for the little girl. 2-5 flopped sleepily onto her bed. 159 joined her a moment later, placing the glass of milk on 2-5’s nightstand before tucking her in. She then sat at the foot of the young girl’s bed.

  “This story is about a human,” 159 began. She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. “He killed many people while defending his country, but the unexpected war between the two species became a conflict between two souls.”

  2-5 beamed up at 159, with her sparkly blue eyes radiating from the reflection of the white lighting overhead.

  159 studied 2-5’s fascinated expression as she stroked the young girl’s hair. Then she closed her eyes and began to recite the story. …

  Chapter 2

  February 24, 2037

  My name is Lance. I’m going to be killed in a couple of hours, if not a couple of days, and if God really hates me, a couple of weeks.

  The world is not what it once was. It has been invaded by fiends, in the disguise of humans, slowly over the years, until there were so many here that it happened—the war started, and there was no longer any need for them to hide their presence from us. The world we once knew has been lost. Soon, the human race will be enslaved by their laws of Dracona.

  I once was a sniper for the People’s Liberation Force. My only crime was defending my country against the fiends, but I was to pay the ultimate sacrifice—death. Another soldier and I were awaiting our execution. I don’t know why, but it felt good to know I wasn’t going to die alone.

  “Do you think we will feel it?” he whispered nervously to me.

  I glanced over at him for a moment. I shrugged, not wanting to think about it. “What’s your name, buddy?” I asked him. It was an attempt to take our minds off our fate by offering some idle conversation.

  “Toby,” he muttered, gloomily staring at the ground.

  “I’m Lance,” I told him with a firm nod.

  He smiled, perking up a bit due to the idle conversation, while seeming to lose the feeling of defeat that had been gripping both of us for the past few hours. “How long have you been here?” he asked.

  “About a week and a half. What about you?” I asked him.

  “Only three days,” he told me, picking up a pebble and tossing it at a flowerbed in boredom.

  “Are you American?” I asked him, while amusing myself by fiddling with a small twig I had discovered beside me.

  “I was born in America, but when we had that merge between the United States, Mexico, and Canada, forming us into one country, my parents decided to move here to Nova Scotia to flee from the fiends, thinking it was safer,” Toby explained. The sun beat down on us, gaining strength, and the afternoon heat intensified.

  “I guess you’re just a plain old North American now,” I muttered.

  He laughed with a nod. “Were you ever in America, Lance?” Toby asked.

  “Nope, I’ve been a Canadian my entire life,” I told him, while adjusting the chain around my neck, which painfully bound me to the heavy iron gate I was sitting against.

  Toby laughed, glancing over at me. “
It’s funny how even with that merge, we still think of ourselves as—” He was cut off by the abrupt sound of metal against metal.

  I lifted my head, startled by the rattling of the main gate as it opened. Three fiends entered the courtyard and made their way toward us.

  “Well, I made it to my seventeenth birthday. Didn’t think I’d last that long,” Toby muttered as the fiends reached us. They hauled us to our feet and placed us against a cement wall.

  I stared, defeated, at the female fiend in the group. The one in the middle loaded his handgun. He was flanked on one side by his buddy, who steadily held his assault rifle aimed at our chests. The female looked away, avoiding my stare. That caught me by surprise; she actually looked ashamed as she came over to me. She tied a blindfold around my head, enveloping me in darkness. “Don’t be afraid; it will be quick,” she whispered in my ear.

  Bang!

  The sound sent a chill shivering down my spine. Then I heard the thwack of the bullet exiting the back of Toby’s head, followed by the dull thud of his falling to the ground, and I could feel a lifeless hand dangling off the side of my foot. Tears began trickling down my face. I tried to hold them back; I wanted to die honorably for my country, but I couldn’t stop myself from crying. The reality hit me that my short life was about to come to an end.

  The two male fiends must have spotted my tears, because they began chuckling to one another, saying something in their foreign language. I then felt the cold barrel of the handgun carefully placed against my forehead. “Have a nice life in hell, filthy PLF,” the fiend snickered.

  Click.

  I gasped. My knees buckling in fear, I fell to the ground. My eyes snapped shut, but the pain of the fall quickly made me realize I wasn’t dead. I could hear the sound of two male fiends laughing in the background. One of them pistol-whipped me across the face, and the other fiend quickly joined in with a kick to the ribs. Both of them beat me like a piñata.

  The female shouted at them; their foreign tongue sounded odd to my ears. The guards stopped and left me lying there in a pool of my blood. I felt the female slipping the blindfold off my face. I gingerly opened my eyes.

  Everything was blurry. I could feel myself drifting off into unconsciousness as my gaze shifted to the two male fiends. They were dragging away Toby, the dead PLF soldier, leaving a bloody trail of bone fragments and ooze in his wake. The female fiend slapped my face. It wasn’t a hard slap, though; it was only to help me regain consciousness. She crouched down, silently taking out a piece of bread and hand-feeding it to me in little pieces.

  She then tilted my head and poured some water from her canteen into my mouth. After that, without a word, she got up and quickly jogged after the other two fiends. Her vanishing behind the main gate a moment later was the last thing I remembered before I blacked out.

  I regained my consciousness sometime that night. I was still lying in a pool of my blood, which had dried on the ground. Painfully, I grabbed the side of the flower bed beside me, hauling myself up off the concrete courtyard and into the flower bed. I fell asleep a short time later. The next morning, I awoke abruptly as the gate creaked open, and three male fiends stormed in. They tied me to a flagpole in the middle of the courtyard, where they began to beat me senseless.

  “Information!” the leader of the three screamed, giving me a sharp punch to the stomach.

  “I know nothing,” I muttered with a cough, spitting out a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

  I realized immediately that was not the answer they were looking for. The leader’s buddy came from behind him, striking me across the face with the butt of his rifle. “You talk when I tell you to talk,” the leader ordered, pulling up a chair in front of me. He sat down and glared up at me. “My name is Commander Domelski, and I will be in charge of your interrogation for the remainder of your pitiful life.” He pulled a package of cigarettes out of his pocket, placing one in his mouth. I eyed it longingly as we stared at each other in silence, sizing each other up. “You would like one, yes?” Domelski asked me with a smirk, nodding to the package of cigarettes in his lap.

  “Smoking kills,” I grunted, ripping my eyes away from him defiantly as he plucked the cigarette from his mouth, offering me a puff of it.

  “So will not accepting the commander’s gift, you filthy dog,” one of his men grunted, giving me a hard punch to my ribs—I felt them crack.

  Domelski raised his hand to the soldier, who obediently stepped aside as his leader got up. He placed the cigarette in my mouth, while looking me over carefully before returning to his seat. “I apologize for my men’s aggression. They do not realize that we and the humans are similar to one another. We may be from different planets, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t share this one, does it?” he asked me thoughtfully as we stared at one another.

  I remained silent, and he snapped, jumping to his feet, grabbing my neck, and staring into my eyes as his own darkened a bloodshot red. “Speak when spoken to!” he ordered me with an angry shake, sending what was left of the cigarette flying out of my mouth. It landed beside his foot.

  “You and I are nothing alike. I’m a human, and you’re a monster,” I taunted him. A sly smirk spread across my face as I saw his shock at my bold statement.

  “I’m a monster, huh?” He took a step back and nodded to his two soldiers as he picked up the cigarette from the ground and took a last puff. “I’ll show you what a monster is,” he growled angrily. As the other two fiends grabbed my arms, he came up to me and put the cigarette out on my cheek.

  I screamed in pain. I was untied and dragged thirty feet or so to a metal table near the main gate. I was forcefully shoved down, with my head held against the cold steel table. My arms were strapped into arm harnesses that were built into the table, and my legs were bound to a wooden chair. “I tried to talk to you, soldier to soldier,” Domelski growled at me angrily. “Now I will talk to you, fiend to human.” He placed his hand on top of my hand, claws sprouting from his.

  My eyes widened in fear. One of the fiends pulled out a map, tossing it onto the table. Domelski turned to me with a threatening smile. “Where is the location of your base?” he asked coldly.

  “Up your ass,” I muttered defiantly—and then screamed in pain as his dagger-like claws sank into my hand, forming a pool of blood around it on the table. He withdrew them with a laugh.

  “We have ourselves a tough guy, hey?” Domelski asked, nodding to one of his men, who obediently pulled out a pair of pliers from his pocket; the other held my hand steady. “Simply point on this map and this will all be over, comrade,” Domelski promised me. He folded his arms as I screamed in pain, while the fiend with the pliers ripped off my first fingernail. After they ripped off three more nails, Domelski raised his hand, and the two fiends took a step back, staring at me with a smirk. I sat there, quivering in pain, blood now stained in the cracks of the table. “You wish to speak now? Yes?” he asked me.

  I raised my head, staring at the map. I let out a sigh, and tears ran down my cheeks. I shook my head and then recoiled in pain as one of the fiends smashed my head into the table. The skin above my eyebrows split open, spewing blood down my face.

  “That is too bad,” Domelski informed me. “I will give you some time to think about it with my two friends.” He got up to leave and patted my shoulder; a moment later, he was out of sight.

  I glanced up at the two left behind, who were staring at me, happy to finally have their way with me. “You no worry, human. We help you remember your friends’ location,” one of them promised me in his broken English. The two of them shared a devilish look before approaching me. The relentless interrogation continued for the entire day, without rest. I didn’t tell them anything, though—I knew they would kill me sooner or later anyway.

  They eventually got fed up and untied me from a flagpole I had been hung from for the remainder of my interrog
ation. I dropped to the cement with a dull thud as they left. While dragging myself back into the flower bed, I spat out a mouthful of blood, promising myself that I would one day get my revenge on them. I found a rock and devoted the rest of my night to sharpening the edge of it into a shank. Once it was completed, I secretly concealed the weapon in my pants. A content feeling from the possibility of revenge seemed to keep me warm as I drifted off to my dreams.

  I was awoken the next morning by a hard punch to my stomach. Gasping in pain, I saw Commander Domelski and his gang staring down at me with a smirk. “Good morning, human. We have much to talk about today!” Domelski told me cheerfully. The other two hauled me out of the flower bed and dragged me across the courtyard, back to the flagpole where I’d been tied up the previous day.

  Before the interrogation could commence, the main gate opened, and the familiar sound of metal on metal rang out through the courtyard. The female fiend from my failed execution emerged in the distance and quickly made her way toward us. Her long blonde hair flew out behind her.

  “Tana!” she called to them in their own language. She held up a piece of paper, and as she reached their side, she showed it to Domelski, who looked skeptical as he read it. “Renekton apray?” Domelski muttered, glancing up from the sheet of paper.

  She nodded, and then there were a few more brief exchanges between the four of them. This resulted in my three captors looking disappointed. “Well, comrade,” Domelski called to me, “it appears there are bigger issues in this war that I must attend to. I hope you enjoy the rest of your short and pitiful life.” The three of them picked up their gear and quickly made their way toward the main gate.

  The female fiend waited for them to leave and then untied me. She motioned toward the flower bed, and I nodded thankfully. I sat down, nursing my ribs, as she took a seat cautiously by my side.