The Dragons of Men (The Sons of Liberty Book 2)

by Jordan Ervin

  Sarah nodded in response, unable to mutter anything.

  Eric nodded and left to find Elizabeth. Rick and Judi both sat on the floor, rocking back and forth. Rick cried softly as he held his wife, failing to soothe her as they both wept. Sarah turned away from them to face Judah.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” Sarah whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” Judah said, his face surprisingly blank of emotion and void of sadness. “He shouldn’t have left.”

  “Judah,” Sarah said, fighting the sudden urge to yell at her son. “You can’t blame—”

  “I said my goodbyes yesterday morning,” Judah said as he pulled away and hefted his rifle. “I knew he wouldn’t be coming back the moment he boarded that helicopter. He made his choice and I can’t…I won’t pause to cry for him again.”

  Judah walked back over to the door and sat down, holding his rifle and glancing back the way Elizabeth and the girl Alexandra had gone as he sat alone. Eventually, Sarah walked over to the window by herself—stopping at the desk first to grab her worn Bible. She stared out through thick glass at the fiery landscape that dotted the horizon. She struggled—nearly shaking as she tried to avoid the panic-forged madness that kept creeping its way toward her sanity. She held onto her Bible for comfort, but it didn’t come. She wanted to scream—wanted to howl as a hysteria sank into her bones.

  He’s gone.

  As she leaned up against the cold glass, weeping for the husband she had lost, she thought back to Elizabeth’s words from earlier.

  I know there is strength in the Reinhart family because I know God is in the Reinhart family. Remember that, no matter what happens. Remember that you all can and will continue life without him.

  Sarah stepped away from the window and looked back at her daughters. They continued to sleep peacefully, oblivious to the news. She could already imagine the conversation she would have when they woke. Though she wanted to do nothing more than weep and lose herself in scripture, she’d need to be strong so her children could afford to be weak.

  Judah’s right, Sarah thought as she watched the girls sleep. We can’t pause to cry.

  She had a family to watch after, and she couldn’t afford to lose herself in grief. She might not be a warrior or a trained soldier like Eric, but she was a mother, and even the mother bear had to bare teeth and protect her cubs. The world had changed into a violent and dangerous place, and it wouldn’t wait for her to finish mourning before it threatened her family again.

  Sarah inhaled deeply and wiped the glowing tears of fire from her cheeks. She set her Bible down on the desk as she lowered herself and snuggled up with her sleeping children—hoping she could somehow summon strength to endure what was to come.

  Chapter Three

  Devils and Kings

  The sharp cry of the violin weaved around the low drawl of the cello harmoniously, the two intertwining with one another in a rhythmic trance as they danced through crystal clear speakers and into the soul of a tyrant. The tune was that of an old concerto, its perfect pitch having undoubtedly filled the hearts of millions with delight over the years, though it now filled the heart of one man with a deep sense of reflection. But the man’s contemplation was not founded in grief, sorrow, or despair. Like the violinist with its bold lead and the cellist with a flawless counter, Lukas Chambers too was an artist, weeping invisible tears of joy—listening to the masterpiece of another as he silently dwelled on his own chef-d'oeuvre.

  Lukas raised his hands and guided the digital pages shown through his nVision display as though he was guiding the music itself in the open air of the oval office. The Imperium News Network—established by Jacob within an hour of their victory in DC—continued to broadcast Lukas’ much needed propaganda. According to the INN, the one and virtually only source of information along the East Coast, a battle for DC had been waged and quickly won by Lukas Chambers. Of course it wasn’t so black and white—many had escaped his hands—but Lukas wanted the world to believe those who had stood against him had died doing so. They called it the first clash in the new War for Unification. Lukas now fully controlled DC, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York, though his authority was spreading elsewhere at the speed of rumor. Most of the reports he skimmed through were not of too much importance—those that truly mattered were currently on their way to be delivered by his czars and advisors. While Lukas strived most hours of the day to force a positive image of himself upon the broken people of the collapsed United States, he now focused on the reports that told him what the world thought of the Imperium.

  Or rather, what the world thought of the man who intended to subdue it.

  Lukas stopped reading for a moment and looked past the reports, swiping them to the side so that he could gaze upon the gorgeous woman sitting quietly a few feet away. Maria Brekor reclined regally on one of the white checkered couches; her back straight and her chin high—a woman with all the authority of every queen who had lived before. She swiped gloved hands through the empty air in front of her, guiding her own afternoon reading. Not too far from where they sat, she had once told him they would live like kings and queens after the Purge, though they would never be actual kings and queens.

  Much to his amusement, he had proven her wrong.

  “What are you reading?” Lukas asked.

  She looked up and cleared her throat, a delicate act that sang of nobility.

  “The latest news about your victory, my love. It seems most everyone east of the Appalachians are flocking to your embrace.”

  “You mean our embrace,” Lukas said quickly. “And as much as I would like to think of that as universal acceptance, I know for a fact that the INN is covering up those who have chosen not to conform.”

  “Well, the people are not fools,” Maria said, her English accent thick. “They know we can feed them and offer them security in a land ravaged by anarchy. When Texas is gone—which you and I both know needs to happen sooner rather than later—we alone will be in a position to offer the people the order they need. We’ll soon discover how great of a threat the Patriarchs pose to our borders, though I hope my father crippled them beyond recovery when he seized their supplies. Speaking of whom, he solidifies our throne in Europe as we speak, and the rest of the world ripens for our taking. But I suppose you’re right. I suppose there will be those to rise against you and what you’ve created. In fact, I’m delighted to think we can and should expect resistance from a fallen nation.”

  “And what does that mean?” Lukas asked.

  “It means you’ve completely changed the American people, my love, whether they asked for it or not. They are no longer American as there is no longer an America and they’re beginning to realize that. They had a system but that system has now disappeared. They have little or no option but to love you and run to you or stand and fight you, and even they know such folly would not bode well.”

  “Well, I’m sure some will risk the roads for the Republic of Texas,” Lukas replied. “We’ve already begun to reprogram every FOD we possess to locate those who are running—no easy task, but a needed one. Every new man who serves the Imperium is one less to fight for someone else. They’ll soon realize resistance is a reckless dream of the past. We are reality.”

  “Still, they were American,” Maria said after a pause. “I am sure they will fight us from the shadows, especially these first few months. They are too stubborn to do otherwise and we’ll need to be careful. Not even you are immune to a properly placed bullet.”

  Lukas smiled back at Maria, though a quick pang of anger flared up within. Not too long ago, he had cowered on the floor beneath Sigmund’s gaze, believing she had betrayed him. He had loved her fiercely since the day they had first met, and that love had only grown as time passed. Nevertheless, in those few brief moments of torture and despair—when Lukas had believed his own wife had thrown him to the compassion of a merciless psychopath—he had chosen to hate not only Maria, but to loathe the love they had shared. Once the
truth had been revealed, that hatred had begun to dissipate. However, since his moment of pure hell, Lukas had noticed something dark festering inside of him. It was a rotting filth of uncertainty and had begun to cast a shadow of doubt over the bright love he had held for Maria. It was as though the fire that had raged within him for what had seemed to be an eternity had left behind a residue that tainted what had once been pure.

  “Do not fret,” Lukas finally said with a forced smile. “I am sure the few who end up fighting from the shadows will find it in themselves to fall before our might. When they stand against us, I promise you we will unleash the full power of my kingdom.”

  A knock on the door caused him to sit up, clearing his throat as he spoke in the most regal and king-like manner that he could.

  “You may enter.”

  The door opened and emitted Rupert Rosenbaum, Lukas’ czar of the newly established Reconstruction Initiative. After Rupert came Warren Anniston—the Imperium’s Innovation and Expansion czar, followed by Geoffrey Poteau—the Secretary of Foreign Affairs, Sandra Bowie—the woman who currently supervised the massive inflow of refugees, and finally Lieutenant General Eli Kane—a man who had served in the United States Air Force as a commanding officer for years before America’s collapse. The final attendee that entered was a woman about the age of Maria that Lukas had never seen before. As everyone found their seats, Sandra Bowie cleared her throat and spoke.

  “Good morning, my Sovereign, and may you live forever.”

  “And to you, Sandra,” Lukas replied. “What news do you have?”

  “Unfortunately, I must begin by informing you of Rhys Howard’s death.”

  “What?” Lukas asked, surprised. “How?”

  “A heart attack,” Sandra replied. “We had been monitoring his vitals ever since he was secured after the battle of DC. Everything had been fine until this morning when he suddenly began to convulse and flat lined. We halted the nanobot’s effects and tried to revive him, but it was already too late. My apologies, Sovereign, but there was nothing we could do. I know how badly you wanted to keep him alive.”

  “It’s alright,” Lukas said, nearly shivering as he thought about Rhys’ week in hell.

  Had the man’s heart truly stopped from the pain? Lukas thought. Can that even happen?

  Lukas smiled and nodded back at Sandra. As she took her seat, Warren Anniston stood and withdrew a tiny device, approaching the middle of the room as he looked toward Lukas.

  “Good afternoon, my Sovereign,” Warren said.

  “To you as well, Mr. Anniston,” Lukas replied before motioning to the device Warren had set down on the center of the coffee table. “And may I ask what that is?”

  “This is called a Point of Reference device,” he said as he clicked a button and set it on the table. Eight drones smaller than his hand took flight, positioning themselves around the room. “And don’t worry, these drones won’t interfere with your protection drones at all. We’ve run extensive tests already. This is something I’d been working on in the private sector a couple years ago and I think you’re going to love it.”

  “Well do hurry,” Lukas said sarcastically. “The anticipation is killing me.”

  “Don’t go falling over dead just yet,” Warren said with a grin. “You’re going to want to see this.” Warren swiped the air around him for a few brief moments before the lights overhead began to dim. After another pause, Lukas’ nVision display lit up, portraying a three dimensional map in the middle of the semi-circle of attendees.

  Lukas’ eyes widened and he reached out to touch the digital map. Though he felt nothing, his fingers moved the display ever-so-slightly to the right, scanning a realistic layout—including terrain, cities, and weather—of the eastern seaboard as though he were gazing down on the world from miles up in the air.

  Like a god, Lukas thought with a grin, looking down from the heavens.

  “Warren,” Lukas began as he looked up, “it’s fascinating.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Lukas started and turned to face the man who had spoken. Jacob Brekor stood three feet to Lukas’ left, his eyes narrowed and a slight smile on his face. Maria jumped as her father spoke and quickly turned to face him.

  “Jacob,” Lukas began, masking his surprise as best as he could. “I thought you were in Europe?”

  “I am in Europe,” Jacob said, raising a steaming cup of tea. “In London, actually. Seems Buckingham Palace had a recent vacancy and you know how I’ve always loved the place.”

  “You’re…a projection?”

  “As are you, my friend,” Jacob replied. “At least to my eyes here, across the pond.”

  “I call it Farsight,” Warren said with a smile. “Nearly every major tech company has tinkered with this technology over the past fifteen years, though no one has made anything this sophisticated and advanced. It uses dozens of secure satellites to transmit a live broadcast of anything these eight drones record. Only those select few attendees who have been invited can access the broadcast through their nVision displays. Everyone, including Jacob, also sees whatever is being rendered and displayed instantaneously. For example, this map is a live feed that is filtered through a quantum computer and rendered on your nVision. We all see the same thing, but we see it from a different point of view, depending on the placement of the Point of Reference device.”

  “And we’re the only people who can see this?”

  “To any eyes in the area that might not be welcomed, it will appear as if the room is occupied by a handful of lunatics, all staring into empty space as we swipe our hands about.”

  Lukas moved to his left, the map’s terrain shifting with his eyes. He looked over at Jacob who nodded back with a grin.

  “It’s a big world out there,” Warren said. “I just wanted to make it smaller. For example.” Warren moved his hands about the map and zoomed out, guiding the image over to Europe. Within a few seconds, Lukas was looking at a live image of Buckingham palace.

  “Well done indeed,” Lukas said with a wide grin.

  “The smaller the world,” Warren began, “the easier it is to hold it in the palm of your hand.”

  “And you’re seeing all of this, Father?” Maria asked.

  “Seeing and hearing,” Jacob said, tilting his head to the side before smiling with recognition. “That song…ah yes. Passacaglia, unless my memory serves me wrong. Even from here, it is as clear as the night I heard it in concerto. You have a fine taste in music, my Sovereign.”

  “Your daughter is the one with a fine taste,” Lukas replied. “It was her who first introduced me to this opus back when we were engaged. So much of me and my time has been devoted to remaking this world that I had spared so very little energy on dwelling on the beauty it has to offer. I guess, in a way, I’m simply trying to catch up on what I’ve missed.”

  “So I take it the finer arts have survived your remaking?” Jacob said.

  Lukas frowned for a moment, staring back quietly at Jacob’s apparition. Jacob was to govern all of Europe underneath Lukas’ leadership, once the Imperium controlled North America and began expanding across oceans. He had proven irreplaceable in saving not only Lukas’ life from everlasting torture, but in protecting him from a vicious and surprise assault on DC. Jacob had agreed that Lukas would and should be the Sovereign once they had destroyed America and delivered a crippling blow to the Patriarchs, though Lukas himself had not yet discovered why the older man had not tried to seize the throne for himself.

  Jacob had insisted that Lukas was better fit to rule as king, while Jacob only wished to serve as a kingdom creator. Lukas wondered if there had been unseen political maneuvering hidden within the older man’s support. But Lukas thrust that thought aside for now, knowing that time and events as they unfolded would shed more light on the matter. Still, he would watch the older man carefully for the time being.

  Even the mightiest of men had to be cautious with those closest to them, especially when dealing wit
h other devils and kings.

  “Oh, come now, Jacob,” Lukas finally replied. “We didn’t destroy the entire world. We merely set a fire and are burning away the parts that have decayed. I like to think that we have enhanced it.”

  “I could not agree more,” Jacob said. “In any case, I promise to introduce you to my personal favorite composition one day when the timing is right. It is an unforgettable piece of art—like a finely aged cabernet—that I do not like to bring out but on a very rare occasion.”

  Lukas nodded his head with a smile, though he tucked that conversation away in the back of his mind for later. He wondered what sort of occasion Jacob was waiting for.

  Devils and kings indeed, Lukas thought.

  “Art and wine aside, I think it’s time we begin,” Lukas said. “Mr. Rosenbaum, would you like to start?”

  Rupert nodded his head and proceeded with his report. Though Lukas had officially laid claim to all the land and resources that had been governed by the United States of America, the Imperium was still in its infancy and far from a borderless empire. Thus, they were only able to partially control the lands east of the Appalachian Mountains. Their control stretched as far south as Charleston, east to Charlotte, and up north to Boston. The regions the Imperium governed had been subject to months of destructive pandemonium as America collapsed. Cities dating back hundreds of years had been built upon many pillars of support, all of which relied on the systems beneath it to function. When one of those pillars crumbled to the ground—be it the police, a network of hospitals, fire departments, or local businesses and industries—everyone else felt the repercussions. Nearly every East Coast city had taken heavy blows to its base in one way or another, and it was now up to the Imperium to begin rebuilding what had nearly become ashes and dust. Rupert had been a brilliant community developer and mayor of Philadelphia prior to America’s demise, and he was more than willing to help with the reconstruction process after being approached by Jacob the day after the battle for DC. Rupert and Sandra had spent endless hours formulating a plan to coordinate the massive flood of refugees with every city’s core competencies in order to begin building a new foundation upon which the Imperium would rise.