by Terry Schott
Dawn looked at her brother, who shook his head. "That's a cold way to look things," she said.
Harry cocked his head and nodded. "When I was your age, I saw one campaign for dominance take place where over two hundred thousand people died. In less than an hour."
Dawn gave him a skeptical look. "What? That's unbelievable."
"Please, kids, remember all the history lessons that I made you sit through. Then understand that the Families, ours included, have been involved in almost every historical event over the past thousand years. What is happening right now is only a tiny blip on the big picture. A drop of paint on a very large canvas filled with an elaborate painting."
"Oh, okay then. Let's not worry about it." Dawn shrugged, walked to the TV and turned it off. "Let's go grab some ice cream and get on with life."
Harry frowned and turned it back on. "Stop it. I'm not saying this isn't important."
"What are you saying, then?" Sam asked.
"This shouldn't cripple our ability to think," Harry said. "This is a move on the board, like taking a pawn in chess."
"A pawn?" Dawn asked.
"Yes."
"The smallest piece on the board," Sam said.
"True, but it's still important. Left unchecked, a pawn can do a lot of damage. It can even become the most powerful piece on the game board." Harry went back to the table and sat down. "If we don't correct this–put a stop to the advantage that the Displaced appear to have–then we could lose the game."
"Is there any way we can help?" Dawn asked.
Harry's expression turned grim.
"What?" Dawn asked again.
"I think there is something that the both of you can do," Harry said, "and none of us is going to like it."
50
At precisely six minutes before midnight, Harry walked down a dimly lit corridor. A door opened on his right and William emerged to join him. They continued walking until they reached a black iron door at the end of the hall.
Harry reached into his shirt pocket and took out a black card, then held it up against a small computerized panel on the wall. The red light on the panel flashed rapidly, then turned green. A moment later, a heavy thud from within the door signaled the release of an internal locking mechanism. Harry pushed gently on the door, motioning for his brother to enter first as it swung open.
"Thank you, brother," William entered the room and paused to wait for Harry.
The small room's bare walls were painted a dark granite colour. Luxurious black carpeting covered the floor. The room contained no furniture; a large, blue-lit screen was mounted to the front wall.
They advanced five steps and stopped in the centre of the room. As if on cue, the screen flicked to display a man standing in an identical-looking room. He appeared to be in his early sixties, with dark black hair and a slight hint of grey at the temples. Discerning eyes—which Harry and William possessed—could see the fit of a custom-tailored suit on a man in excellent physical condition.
"Hello, Grandfather," Harry said.
The man gazed at Harry with the confidence of an absolute ruler. He, Richard Thorne, head of the clan, wielded more power than any monarch or dictator in history. His eyes moved from Harry to William, pausing to appraise his second grandson before finally returning to look at Harry once more. His baritone seemed to rumble like thunder as he replied: "What new developments do you have for me, boys?"
"City One is lost," Harry began. "We will send salvage teams in once the majority of violence has subsided."
"I am not pleased that this has occurred so close to Wallaceton. From this point forward, you will have to be concerned with defence from vagrants and refugees." Richard waved his hand as if to shoo a fly. "Which could end up being an inconvenient distraction."
"We will set up points along the way which will discourage anyone from approaching us," Harry said.
"Good," Richard nodded. "What of the fallen Elders?"
"There is nothing new to report."
Richard held out his hand. Someone handed him a folder, which he opened and began to read. "We have been attacked in a similar fashion at four other locations around the world."
"Were they successful?" William asked.
"No," Richard looked up and raised one eyebrow at his grandsons. "Your report of the attack was so fast that it enabled the rest of us to be prepared."
Harry suppressed a smile. Coming from Grandfather, that was effusive praise.
"No other cities have been shut down," Richard reported, flipping through the papers. "We need to determine what the next move will be. It appears that this particular stage of the game is being played in your area, gentlemen. I am leaving it up to you. For now."
"Thank you, Grandfather," Harry said. "I have arranged to meet with a representative of the Displaced."
"Need I guess who this meeting will be with?" Richard's eyes narrowed.
"No," Harry's face flushed slightly.
Richard's voice went polar, deadly. "Don't expose this Family to needless danger, Harry. I have been more lenient with you than even I can believe at times, but I will correct that if need be. Are we clear?"
Harry met his grandfather's eyes with his own deadly gaze. "Perfectly clear, Grandfather. Family has always come first."
Harry's grandfather looked at him blankly for a moment before nodding. "Let me know if you learn anything. Good luck."
Harry nodded tersely. The screen went blank.
51
Josh's eyes darted back and forth over the ruined neighbourhood, his glance restricted by the small driver's viewport in the armoured car. "Both of you stay close."
"We're in an armoured machine with wheels," Sam said. "We have nowhere to be except close."
Josh frowned as he swerved to avoid two fallen human forms. "I mean when we get out of the vehicle, smart-mouth. You both know what I mean, so please don't try and be cute. I'm super stressed about this whole expedition."
"Don't worry, Josh," Dawn said. "We will stay close. Dad made it quite clear that we were only to reclaim key equipment from the house, and then get back to Wallaceton."
"He shouldn't have sent the two of you," Josh grumbled, pulling into the driveway of their house. "It doesn't look like anyone has broke into the front, but they could have tried to go in through the back way. I'm gonna go take a look."
Sam leaned forward and handed Josh an assault rifle. Josh checked to make sure the magazine was full, then switched the safety off. "I'll be back in a minute."
"You just finished telling us to stay close, and now you're going to leave us alone while you enter a potentially dangerous situation?" Dawn said.
Josh raised one eyebrow as he considered her words. "Fine. Come with me, but do exactly as I say when we get outside."
"Of course," Dawn opened her door and waited for Josh to exit the vehicle.
They approached the front door cautiously. Sam and Dawn waited behind Josh while he tried the handle, which was locked. "Stay here. I'll check the back," said Josh.
"Are you having a seizure or something?" Dawn asked. "Again you want to abandon us?"
Josh ran a hand through his hair and exhaled a forceful sigh. "I know, I know," he said. "I told you to stay close. I'm not used to having two kids with me in-theatre."
"What theatre?"
"The theatre of operation," Sam told his sister. "That's how soldiers say, 'in the middle of battle.'"
"Ahh, yes, I remember hearing that before."
Sam smirked. "Sure you do."
Dawn prepared a retort, then swallowed it. "Thank you," said Josh, looking directly at her. "Now, come with me, but please stay back at least five or six feet. Your dad will kill me if either of you get hurt."
They spent the next ten minutes creeping around the perimeter of the house, careful not to get in Josh's way as he searched for signs of forced entry. "It looks secure," he said, slipping a key into the patio door's lock. "Let's get this done quickly. I want to be out of town in less than an ho
ur."
Josh opened the door and stepped inside. Dawn and Sam stepped forward to follow him.
WHOOM.
Dawn saw a blinding flash, heard a tremendous roar, and felt a blast of intense heat blowing her backward. A part of her awareness felt pieces of glass and wood striking her, flying back along with her, and landing with and on her.
Something, probably flying debris, hit her on the head. She felt a warm, sticky wetness begin to run down her face. She could not blink her eyes clear of the liquid. The sounds entering her ears were muffled and throbbing, as if she were underwater.
After a moment, Dawn managed to stand up. Something took her arm in a grip that felt confident and firm, and began pulling her. Unable to see, she worked her legs and felt she could walk.
Josh, she thought, as she began to walk in the direction of the pull. There's been an explosion, and Josh is leading us somewhere safe.
Dawn whipped her head around, triggering dizziness, and looked for her brother. He was behind her, also looking like a dazed mess, with a large man assisting him.
Wait a minute, Dawn thought. Where did that man come from?
Sounds began to return, sharp noises piercing the dull ringing in her ears as if at a distance. She turned her head to ask Josh what had happened, but it wasn't Josh guiding her. A large man in a dark suit met her eyes and then turned his head as he continued walking. Dawn tensed her arm to try and pull away, but the man tightened his grip.
"Where are you taking us?" Dawn said, in a voice that sounded incoherent even to her.
The man ignored her and kept walking.
Dawn stopped walking and dropped heavily to the ground, ready to stand and bolt as soon as she felt the man's hand let go. He didn't let go, however; he just grunted in surprise and heaved his arm upwards, almost hard enough to dislocate her shoulder.
The pain helped her to regain more of her senses. She stood up and heaved herself away, but it was too late. The man swung her forward, hard, into the side of a black car parked beside Josh's armoured vehicle. The door opened and strong arms pulled her in.
"Close the door," the man beside her growled. "The brother will go into the other car."
Dawn opened her mouth to scream. Before she could draw enough air, something hard hit her in the stomach. Tears welled up in her eyes as something dark and coarse covered her head. Unseen hands secured it around her neck.
"Let's go," said a feminine voice beside her.
Dawn wanted to thrash and scream, but the adrenaline rush from the attack was fading. Something pinched her in the arm and blackness claimed her.
52
"Quite the view."
Desdemona sat on the top row of the high school bleachers, hunched forward. She looked at Harry and smiled, a beautiful grin that made his heart skip a beat. "You're not talking about me, are you?" Her knees swayed playfully to match the tone of her voice.
Harry smiled and shook his head. "I am, and you know it."
"Come on up here and sit." Desdemona patted the bleacher beside her.
Harry climbed the bleachers and sat down, careful to leave space between them. He looked across the abandoned football field. Miles away, dark columns of smoke extended toward the heavens. The dark gold and orange sunset backdrop made the scene look like an apocalyptic oil painting in a museum.
"Quite the day's work, wouldn't you say?" asked Desdemona, sounding grimly satisfied.
Harry watched the scene in the distance for a moment before answering. "If you're not careful, the entire world will soon look this way."
Desdemona shrugged. "That will be up to you, Harry, not me." She let her leg rest against his.
Time stood still as the two sat together without speaking. Harry relaxed the muscles in his thigh, allowing his leg to rest deeper against hers. "I've missed you," he said softly.
Desdemona giggled, the sound a flirting schoolgirl would make, and rested her head on Harry's shoulder. "I've missed you too, Love."
Harry inhaled the familiar and intoxicating scent of her hair. He closed his eyes and stopped, then shook his head and looked back toward the horizon. He had to keep this meeting as businesslike as possible, or be lost. "How do you propose we end this mess?" he asked.
Desdemona knew that tone. "Right to business? Sure, why not?" She looked across the empty football field, raising one hand to indicate the dying city beyond. "That," she pointed, "is our proposal."
"Destroy cities?" Harry shook his head. "The Displaced haven't become that neurotic, have they, Des?"
"We didn't destroy that city," Desdemona frowned in confusion. "We simply showed them the lie."
"You showed them one lie," Harry said.
"Many of them will die. Starvation, violence, a whole bunch of nasty things. The good news is that whatever happens to those people will no longer be as a result of your control over them. For the first time in their lives, they are free. That is the gift that we intend to offer the people of the world."
"Sounds pretty fanatical," Harry said.
Desdemona shrugged. "It's the same old song and dance of the Displaced. The Families sing to a different tune, but theirs sounds just as fanatical when you listen to the words and dance to the music."
"I doubt anyone in that city wants the freedom you're giving them."
"Too bad. They never asked for the servitude that you, we, forced upon their ancestors so long ago."
Harry looked at his wife, mulling that over. Moves and counter moves; that's the game which has been played for centuries. Finally, he smiled.
"Okay, fine," he said. "You've given me time to consider the consequences for not making a deal. Now, what is it that you really want?"
Desdemona grinned and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I really have missed you, Harry. Of course there are demands. In the past they have always been...within reach, but I think this time the Displaced have gone too far."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Desdemona shook her head, "I don't think the Families can ever agree to these." She pulled out a small piece of paper and gave it to Harry, who unfolded it and read the contents. She watched him carefully for a reaction, chuckling as he got to the part she had warned him about.
"You're right," Harry said. "The Families will never agree to this."
"You must take it to them anyway, as you well know."
"I will, but it's a waste of time."
"Show it to your grandfather first."
Something in her tone made Harry pause. "Why?" he asked.
Desdemona shrugged. "I'm not sure, but those were part of the instructions."
Harry stood up and smiled. "Okay, thanks." He started to walk down the bleacher steps. As his foot touched the bottom step, Desdemona spoke.
"That's it?" she asked.
"That's what?"
"You're just going to leave?"
Harry looked at the ground and said nothing.
"The kids are great," Desdemona said, wistfully.
"They really are," Harry stared at a bleacher seat.
"You did an incredible job with them."
"You were there too," He said. "The first ten years of a person's life form the foundation for who they will be for the rest of their lives."
"I thought it was the first seven years?"
"Point is, you were there. They are just as much you, as me."
"Yeah."
Harry looked up at her. Her eyes glittered. "Don't."
"I missed them," she said. "I've missed you."
Harry shook his head and turned away, angry at the traitorous tears forming in his own eyes. "Stop it, Des. We can't do this."
"I would just like a hug. Maybe a kiss."
"No."
"Why not?" she asked in anguish.
"Because," he whispered, "If I hold you, I won't be able to let you go."
"You would have to," she said, her voice as soft and quiet as his. "We have no choice."
"Yes," Harry looked at her through glassy eyes. "We always h
ave a choice. Sometimes we just lack the courage to make the correct one."
She nodded, looking up and wiping away a tear. "I made the wrong choice."
"No. I did."
He walked away.
53
"I've never been so bored in my life," complained Sarah-Marie.
"We wouldn't be bored back in the city," Kerstin said, a bit sadly.
Sarah-Marie shuddered. "I'm worried about all the others who got left behind. Things don't look good on the newscasts."
"It's total chaos."
"I thought they might put us to work here. There has to be something game-related that we can do to help."
"I don't think the game is on anyone's mind right now."
"Not in our city, but from what I understand it's still active everywhere else."
Kerstin glanced over at her. "What could we do to help? I have a few more months' experience than you, but we are both low-level. I don't see the use in playing it anyway."
"We could earn some money," Sarah-Marie said, "to help us buy stuff."
Kerstin shook her head. She's in shock. So am I. Our lives are gone. And while we might be safe right now, I don't see us being allowed to camp out here forever. Sometime soon, we will have to leave and return to our lives. Which no longer exist, so far as we know. "Look, don't panic yet. We've only been here for a couple of days. Dawn and Sam will come by soon. I'm sure they'll have ideas for us. They didn't go to all the trouble of saving our lives just to have us sit here."
"I guess." Sarah-Marie looked doubtful. "We haven't seen them since we got here."
"They're likely busy. They are pretty high up in the organization, right?"
"Yes."
"How are your parents and sisters doing?"
Sarah-Marie laughed. "Not good. This is like the apocalypse for them. Before the rioting started, Dad was at the bank. Apparently my parents were saving for something big, and when they found out all their money was gone, they started to panic." Which Sarah-Marie appeared on the verge of doing. "Oh, god. what if this happens to the whole world? What if the entire economic system collapses?"