RISING_A Dystopian Post-Apocalyptic USA Fantasy

by Michael W. Huard

  Other ships had landed and soldiers were all about the city. They had no choice. Taya turned and yelled, "Run! Everyone scatter and go . . . run for your lives!"

  She darted one way and then another to avoid the lasers now beaming out of the JC cyborgs' rifles. Several members of her group were struck down, but she was able to get away and rounded a bend down another street corner at full speed.

  The wolf man then stepped in her path. It was Arknic, the Viking-like fellow from the hospital. "Ha, ha, ha," he said with a gruff voice. "So we finally have the chance for one more fight." He lifted his thick and bloody sword up high above his head and spat on the ground. "You’re nothing more than dirt. Now I shall skin your body and feed you to the jackals. They come and feast on all the dead from this non-law-abiding, shit bag of a place."

  Chapter Fourteen

  So here started a final match between two old adversaries. Taya wondered how the big Viking man had ended up here, and she figured it was probably meant to be. But, why the heck now?

  She slid out her sword and took a fighting stance as the big monster roared and came right at her, swinging his sword like a madman. Taya did all she could to avoid his blows.

  Using her many years of martial arts and weapons training, Taya moved about and sliced many deep wounds into the big man's body, but he did not seem to be bothered by any of the slices.

  He was out for vengeance and had an undying thirst for blood. Nothing would stop him, and he kept on with his vicious attack.

  He was able to kick out and smash her in the ribs with the sole of his foot. The contact hit hard and must have done some damage because Taya felt that at least one of her ribs was cracked. But she fought on regardless, knowing she had to get home to see her husband and young daughter.

  She then decided to bolt and try to make a run for it past this hairy, nasty man, but he was back in front of her in no time, screaming out his war cry, "Yayayyyaaaayaaaa . . . Rahhhhhh . . . I have you now!" he boldly bellowed while lifting his sword up to the sky. Throwing down a massive, cleaving motion, he attempted to smash the woman before him. He wanted to cave in her skull and have done with her once and for all.

  She instinctively brought up Bright to block the blow, but this time, things didn't go her way. A loud clanging and snapping sound rang out in the air . . . her sword had broken in two.

  She was fortunate enough to have diverted the blow, and his big sword only grazed the side of her shoulder.

  Taya’s world flashed before her eyes; she had been through so much. Chaos had erupted in the streets, and the sights were not unlike those she had witnessed before across the various cities and towns of old America. War and greed now showed their ugly faces anywhere and everywhere.

  Human beings are strong and resilient. They would build their places back up, just like they had many times before. She could not fail here.

  Her opponent, now having the upper edge, taunted her with more sarcastic words. "So much for your wonderful training and your dreams of freedom. Ha, it's all bullshit. This world and this land will never be free again."

  He raised his sword and swung to cut off her head, and she had no weapon to stop it, so she dropped under his wild swing and went around to his backside.

  Taya then jumped up on him, wrapping her feet around his thighs and her arms around his neck. This time he was not so lucky and stumbled forward, landing hard on his stomach.

  The hairy wolf-man tried to rise up, but she dropped several raging elbows down onto the back of his big head. He screamed, "GET OFF OF ME," as loud as any man had ever shouted out.

  Taya spotted her sword hilt and reach down, and as luck would have it she managed to grab the handle, which still had some of the blade attached.

  She said to her long-time sword half, "One more time, my friend, give me one more kill."

  As the big man lifted his chin up and started to rise to his knees with Taya still hooked on his back, she took the jagged blade hilt and sliced it straight across his throat. He screeched out in horror as a torrent of thick, red blood sprayed out from his gaping wound. She did it over and over again, until he finally dropped face first to the ground.

  Taya had no time to waste on celebrating her victory. She got up and took off, heading for home.

  As she ran, she found herself cutting down alleyways and negotiating her way around all the soldiers and burning buildings along her route.

  She came out to a line of marching soldiers, and low and behold, the navy blue wearing President Sweet was right there behind them. He spotted her and pointed over in her direction. "Get that one . . . over there!" he shouted. Taya tried to run the other way, but more soldiers appeared, and she was now trapped between Joint Correlation cyborgs, soldier men, and robots.

  She had no weapon, so as much as it killed her, she raised her hands in defeat. President Sweet walked over to her and looked her up and down.

  "Well, well, well, we finally caught the wild bird trying to fly away. Not a bad looking woman for your age, I’ll give you that. You actually look a little familiar, but I can't quite put my finger on it."

  He scratched his chin in deep thought, and Taya got a closer look at the long, thick scar that ran down the length of his cheek.

  "Having said that, I'm not a big fan of anybody with their gray hair showing," he snarled. "I like my women younger, plus your body is a little thin, and I prefer my women to have much larger breasts. I'm saying you're ugly, lady, but I’m sure the soldiers would still bang your skinny ass," he laughed as he looked closer at her. "Are you sure we don’t know one another?"

  Taya threw up in her mouth.

  "Yeah, like I didn't know. Sorry, honey cakes, we had spies listening to your silly rants. It's a waste of people’s time, good for nothing, and the rich always win . . . something like that, wasn't it?" He laughed at his own mockery and grabbed her by the hair. He moved in closer, inhaling a deep breath as he smelled her and rubbed his nose against her ear. "Take it back to the ship," he instructed as she shoved her away. "I think I'll use this one as a personal slave. Get her out of my face."

  Several of the cyborgs grabbed Taya by the arms and placed heavy metal handcuffs on her wrists. They then escorted her to a nearby ship.

  She had failed everyone, and she held her head low in frustration and disappointment as she was dragged away. Once inside the ship, she was bound to a chair with no hope of escape.

  All she could do was pray. In this world gone mad, there had to be somebody, or perhaps an entity of some kind that was looking after the good people; the ones that always held out hope, the ones willing to lend a hand to other people, and the ones that believed in better days to come.

  There had to be a reason why. A reason for human beings to exist.

  "Hear me now. I ask not just for my life, but I ask for some way to make this world come back. I ask for this to be a fair, just, and decent country, and a land where people can be free and live in harmony."

  After a brief pause, she went on, "Oh, and above all else, please look after my daughter, Sun. Take her in your loving arms and protect her."

  She was interrupted as a soldier came onto the ship and approached her. "What is your name?" he asked. Taya kept her head low and didn't look up at him. He removed his helmet and asked again. "I need to know your name, woman," he said louder this time, and again, Taya did not look up.

  He squatted down before her and cupped his hand under her chin, lifting her head to see her face. "Is that you, Taya?"

  She finally opened her eyes. She knew his face. It was Garrison, the boy she had grown very fond of in her younger days. He had been a traveling companion until the point of their judgment day. That's when he had been sent away to the Correlation regime, and she had never seen him again since.

  She was battered and bruised, bleeding and sore, but with what little fight she had left, she spoke to him. "Garrison . . . it's been so long. It's a miracle."

  The soldier conte
mplated what to do next. He thought he had recognized her, and now he was up close, even though many years had passed, he knew it was her. And he now had a big decision to make.

  He asked Taya about Moon and TB, but the news was grim. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she broke the news to him about their deaths. Garrison was a soldier, and he now worked for the wealthy and powerful, but deep inside, the little boy was still there. He untied the binds that held her and unlocked the shackles on her wrists.

  "I've never forgotten about you, Taya. You and I both know what you stand for, so I’m letting you go . . . get out of here! Run, hide, and live out the rest of your life."

  Taya slowly rose to her tired feet, but she took Garrison by the hand before leaving. "You’re a good man, and you have a good heart. No matter what others say to you, don’t ever change." She hugged the armed guard and made her escape out through the back of the ship.

  Along her route, she had to cut down various side streets to avoid the lingering patrols. Explosions were still going off all around, and her nerves were at an all-time high. Through the clouds of smoke and debris, it was then that she spotted the president preparing to board his leader spacecraft. A legion of cyborg soldiers parted to make way for him to walk up the stairway and into the craft.

  Taya frantically looked about and spotted a fallen soldier. It was an extinguished Correlation soldier who had once carried a rifle, one which was now on the ground by his side. She bolted to the weapon, lifted it onto her shoulder, and aimed it towards the evil man who was just in the process of boarding his private space traveler.

  She had prayed earlier, and Garrison had appeared, so now she sent one more prayer to the heavens, "Let my aim be true," she asked. "Please, let it be true."

  And then the leader of the Mystical Slayers scoped in on the president and fired.

  He was at the top of the stairs, proudly turning to face his men and all his masterfully executed dirty work. He had his usual cocky demeanor and a big broad smile.

  She dearly wished that he knew it was her, but it didn't matter now. Her shot rang true, and it succeeded in wiping that smile right off his motherfucking face!

  She turned away and never looked back.

  Taya ran. She ran like the wind all the way home, even though a big flying drone was now following her from above. Despite her best attempts, she couldn't lose it. She was almost there, so close; her place, her home was now in view. Then the JC drone fired, and she watched in horror as a ball of flames engulfed her dwelling, her life, and her world.

  The entire apartment complex had exploded into a massive burst of fire and debris. "Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" she screamed, still running, still hoping to save her family.

  ***

  The cleanup was beyond measure. Many had lost everything, including their leader.

  They say time heals all wounds, but Taya could not move. She was paralyzed with grief from yet another dose of loss and trauma in her life. This time, it was all too much for this broken woman. This time, she quit.

  Epilogue

  It would be almost three months before she came out of hiding. A few of her surviving sisters had finally managed to get her dressed and led her outside for the first time. She cried the entire time. But the women would not falter and persisted with their plan. She pleaded for help and for peace of mind as they dressed her. "I’m not a mom anymore . . . and my husband, my dear Trout, is gone too. I can’t live. This world does not need me anymore."

  The helping sisters told her she had to move on, and that she had to rise up, even after such a horrible and painful fall. Taya would not stop crying. The women thought that perhaps three months was not enough time, but they could not let her stay inside forever. Something truly amazing was happening, and she had to see it.

  "The best things in this world are the ones you love," Taya explained to her assistants. "I loved being Mommy and a wife. These are the things that no one can take for granted." They all agreed. They helped her to wash her hair, got her into a nice green dress and finally led her outside.

  It was there that hundreds and hundreds of women, those who had come from all over the nation, lined the streets to greet her.

  She was completely taken aback by such a sight. "What is this?" she asked.

  One of the younger women in the huge crowd stepped forward. She was a strawberry-blond teenager, full of freckles. With little hesitation, the young lady stood proud before Metaya Valteese.

  "We have gathered here today to not only honor you, but to tell you how sorry we all are." The young girl spoke with resolve and with a loud enough tone for all to hear. "To all of us here today, you still are a mother . . . our mother."

  Tears began to roll down Taya’s face. What an amazing gesture by all these women. To her even greater surprise, they all started to line up to offer her a hug one by one. She could hardly contain her emotions and burst out into even more tears. She felt love for the first time in months.

  Each and every sister hugged her, and they all said the same thing. "We love you, Mom." They were only a few simple words, but they were ones that expanded her heart. She knew she could not quit after all.

  ***

  Metaya Valteese would go on to inspire thousands of women throughout the rest of her life. A life which turned out to be quite a long one. Her later years were spent teaching, researching, and like she did as a young girl, speaking about hope. It was a constant battle; this rich life against the poor. The greedy and wealthy had no interest in helping those below them.

  There were more tyrants, associations, corporations, and all-out egomaniacs that came about, but she and her sisters were always there. It was still a struggle to continue their resistance and offer a hand to those in need, but they always did. As Taya grew older, she found peace in a recurring vision that someone, a special someone, was always looking over her. She had been through so much, but she liked to think the tests and trials of her life had made her stronger and enabled her to teach with an admirable strength, even throughout her elder years.

  Very late one evening, she would make a final entry into her beloved journal. She made a cup of tea and added a bit of honey as she had always done. It was the little things she enjoyed the most. She hoped that someone like herself would read this entry one day, and all her other notes for that matter.

  For one hundred and forty-two years I’ve been on this round planet called Earth. One hundred of those years I have been part of a sisterhood of elite female freedom fighters. People call us the Mystical Slayers, and I’m not even sure how this name came about. We represent all that is good on Earth.

  I share all I know in my journal, which your leader is now in possession of. This letter is my voice to you all. I have been a daughter, a friend, a wife, and a mother; yet I have also suffered great loss.

  When the first changing war hit, I had not even been born. I will not be alive when the last roars its ugly face, for war is part of human evolution. We’re all human, well, we used to be.

  Various changing wars have occurred throughout time. But, not until the year 2627, were there any wars that would change the way we live, in particular, here in America. With overpopulation running rampant, some say the first changing war was our destiny. It began with political warfare and lead to nuclear destruction. This world was left with only the lucky or wealthy individuals. Those with money had made prior arrangements, so to speak.

  Certain regions were hit less hard, and those citizens also survived. All the world leaders battled for supremacy, and with our own country still a superpower, we were the worst hit. When the others joined to derail us, even centuries of terrorism paled in comparison. Death was all around, and the United States of America was knocked to its core.

  But our country was strong. Scientists took over after changing war one. A robotics outburst helped to reshape America. However, these machines were not human in thought, religion, spirit, or matters of the heart. T
hus, the world became more and more lost in its mental state of living. Marriage was no longer a norm for humans. Citizens took partners as safety friends, and often took multiple partners for the same reason. The more people one had within their inner circle or family, the more survival power each so-called clan would have. For all knew more changing wars were to come.

  A century or so later, changing war two came, the Holy war. This war would see religion take a turn for the worse. Standard worship was lost to the general population. Then again, the spirit is not physical, and those who chose to still believe in a single Omnipotent entity carried on in the shadows. The races of America had become so intertwined that names of various notable monarchs became more like folklore, and people’s actions now formed their standard of living.

  Overzealous religious leaders who had lost the edge, started to form huge corporations or fellowships to keep their faith announced and make sure all their followers would still listen.

  Those who held faith would be taken to paradise or heaven, while those who sinned and lost faith would die by demon locusts, boiling seas, storms of fire or blood, and minions of the antichrist. Even so, the world was not what it used to be; life was in survival mode and not many people believed in such preaching.

  With the churches of any named gods no longer having power, holy unions began to falter. Sexuality became more open and more diverse. Human beings were labeled a, b, c, d, and even e sexual. Bi, gay, straight, no one really cared anymore. If time and desire met, then you mated, it was as simple as that. Eventually, new and strange drugs became the steady diet of Americans, which were used to cope with their ever-changing ways of life. These were not the drugs of centuries ago. Advanced technology and science were at an extreme all-time high, and, well, let’s just say that strange and odd did not represent the greatest of names in these cases. It was not until biological warfare hit its highest point that society could actually say all law-abiding fractions had been lost. In time, all religion died.