by Isamu Fukui
“Takan, sir!” a voice called.
Tack turned to see a boy that he’d never met before run up to him, clutching a cell phone in his hand. Tack realized that he’d gained something of a reputation, having been Zyid’s assistant for such a long time.
“Yes?” Tack asked as the boy halted in front of him.
“Word from the advance positions!” The boy waved the cell phone breathlessly. “Enforcer patrol cars and armored vehicles are close, heading this way by the looks of it. Helicopters too. We haven’t been spotted yet though.”
“So we have the element of surprise.” Tack’s mind began racing. “They can’t drive over this mess; they’ll have to fight us on foot. I’m headed for the front lines.”
“Good luck!” the boy said earnestly, pocketing the cell phone and shouldering his rifle and running off to warn the other Truants.
Tack dashed past a number of chunks of masonry, slowing down slightly as he saw a few Truants crouched behind RPGs.
“Everyone with an RPG,” Tack called out in a sudden burst of inspiration, “follow me!”
Tack was surprised and pleased to see a half-dozen Truants immediately leap up and run over to him; having a reputation had its perks. Tack continued running down the street until he reached the large chunk of a bank building that was at the front of the Truant positions. No Truants had yet been brave enough to take shelter behind this one, and Tack wasted no time in filling the vacancy, the six RPG-wielding Truants quickly following suit.
Suddenly, from far overhead, a faint buzzing noise reached their ears. Tack looked up to see a familiar black spot moving across the dawning sky.
“Ignore it,” Tack whispered to the nervous Truants around him. “Leave the helicopters to the guys on the roofs. When the vehicles come into view, it’s up to you to take them out.”
The Truants nodded, which was all they had time for before the sound of speeding cars reached their ears. Then, at once, so many Enforcer cars burst around the corner and drove towards them that Tack was sure that every precinct in the City must have been emptied. The car sirens were off, and Tack, peering around the shelter of the masonry, was satisfied by the looks of surprise on the drivers’ faces as they braked at the sight of the wreckage before them.
Tack wasn’t about to give their surprise any time to wear off.
“Shoot, now!” Tack hissed.
The six Truants burst from around the shelter and hastily aimed before firing their rockets forward. Tack crawled above the obstacle and swung his rifle around towards the Enforcers. He was pleased to see that most of the rockets had done their job, demolishing the leading Enforcer cars and creating more obstacles for the others, though one rocket had gone awry and smashed into a storefront instead.
The Truants cheered, but not for long. The element of surprise was no longer theirs, and from the immense number of vehicles countless Enforcer officers poured forth like enraged bees from a damaged hive. At the end of the Enforcer column, a number of vehicles were already backing up, undoubtedly going around to attempt the western road instead.
“You guys, fall back!” Tack ordered, and heard the Truants all scramble for the nearest cover behind them.
Tack, for his part, stood his ground. Aiming his rifle, Tack fired through the smoke and flames rising from the wrecked cars and was pleased to hear a scream that meant he’d hit his mark. As dark shapes began to run through the smoke to emerge as grim and dangerous men, Tack quickly fired at as many as he could, downing a few before they could properly see him. But the number of Enforcers plunging towards him steadily increased, and soon Tack was forced to duck behind the masonry as a hail of bullets crashed into and around it.
Looking back desperately at the other fallen pieces of buildings, Tack saw other Truants poking their heads around them, firing shots at the onrushing Enforcers. One of the Truants waved furiously at Tack, and a moment later four other Truants came into view from behind their cover, firing furiously to keep the Enforcers’ heads down. Tack didn’t hesitate; he lunged and dived behind the obstacle, coming to a rest behind it just as the Enforcers overran his old position.
Tack swung his rifle around and fired repeatedly at the mass of blue uniforms surging towards him. All around him the ear-popping sounds of rifle shots hammered at his head, and Tack felt that he might go deaf if he stayed there. Still, he kept firing, and the Enforcers kept coming, occasionally pausing to fire back at the Truants.
Suddenly, over the din, the sound of a scream registered in Tack’s numb ears, and he turned to see the Truant next to him sprawled on the ground, bleeding badly from the head. A few of the other Truants behind the cover pulled his body to safety and began examining him frantically. Tack ignored them and continued firing, knowing that their efforts were useless; the boy was obviously dead. Though a few more uniformed figures crumpled and fell to Tack’s shots, more suddenly surged forward while Tack’s companions were still busy examining their fallen comrade. Tack let out a snarl of frustration and drew his sword.
“Leave him; fall back!” Tack shouted at the other Truants.
“But—,” one of them began to protest.
“Do it!” Tack roared.
Seeing the Enforcers draw dangerously close, the Truants looked at each other with frightened expressions, and then bolted, dashing for the nearest cover behind which other Truants were already waiting and firing. Tack again held his ground, crouching out of sight as reckless adrenaline shot through his veins. Obviously thinking that all the Truants behind the obstacle had fled, three Enforcers ran impatiently past it, unaware that Tack was lurking in wait. Tack lunged, plunging his sword straight through the first Enforcer’s back, then bringing his rifle up to shoot another at point-blank range, promptly dropping him to the ground. The third Enforcer spun around and was about to raise his gun when Tack swiftly slashed at his throat, cutting a neat gash across it from which blood spewed, splattering Tack’s clothes.
Another Enforcer appeared and aimed at Tack immediately. Tack dropped to the ground and slashed at the man’s legs, crippling him and allowing Tack to follow up with a head shot with his gun. The other Enforcers seemed to hang back, wary now of this deadly adversary that lurked out of sight. Tack seized the opportunity and scrambled to his feet, dashing for the next nearest obstacle. As he did, Tack felt a bullet pass right by his ear, and then he was safely behind cover, with waiting Truants helping him to his knees.
By now a larger number of Truants had accumulated at each position that hadn’t yet been overrun, allowing them to better resist the Enforcer advance. Wiping his sword on his pants, Tack peered around the obstacle to see the Enforcers now crouching behind the positions the Truants had abandoned. Tack swore loudly, but the sound was lost to the relentless, pounding sound of gunshots. Suddenly, Tack saw something fly through the air and land behind an adjacent obstacle where other Truants had taken cover. A moment later, a fiery explosion blossomed, and through the smoke Tack saw several bodies hit the ground.
“What the hell?” a Truant next to Tack exclaimed in horror.
“Bastards are using grenades!” Tack shouted furiously; somehow he felt that the Enforcers were cheating. “Fall back!” he yelled, gritting his teeth in frustration as he realized that it was the third time he’d said it.
The Truants didn’t hesitate to obey, and this time Tack followed them, and not a moment too soon; as they dived behind the nearest cover, a grenade plunked down right where they had been hidden just a second ago. Suddenly, even as the smoke from the second grenade subsided, Tack’s ringing ears were assaulted by a new, dreaded sound that struck terror into his heart. Looking up, Tack saw a black helicopter swooping down on their position, this one looking much deadlier than the one he had fled from before; it had two intimidating machine guns on either side of it that definitely looked like they meant business.
Tack and the Truants around him instinctively ducked down to the ground as the machine guns began snarling as they opened fire, sending a rain of
bullets down upon the Truant positions. The only good thing Tack could see about the situation was that the Enforcers were now also hanging back, seemingly unwilling to approach for fear of friendly fire from the chopper.
Then there was another explosion, and Tack looked up to see the helicopter spiraling perilously towards the ground, smoke streaming from one side. Tack silently cheered whatever Truant that had been responsible for that hit. A moment later, the helicopter came crashing down right on top of the advancing Enforcers, most of whom dived aside in time; others, however, vanished in the resulting fireball. Taking advantage of the distraction, Tack leaped from behind cover and fired at an Enforcer that had paused to look back at the helicopter. The first shot caught the man in the arm; the next one brought him permanently to the ground.
Fresh Enforcers now began streaming from around the wreckage of the helicopter, and a sudden barrage of bullets forced Tack to take cover. Remembering the explosive barrels to either side of the street, Tack aimed around the obstacle and fired wildly in the left barrels’ general direction. One of his shots hit, and the subsequent explosion sent Enforcers flying through the air.
“Fall back now, while they’re busy!” Tack shouted to all the Truants nearby.
The Truants hastened to obey, and as he moved towards new shelter Tack spun around and fired a neat shot right into the explosive barrel on the right. Not waiting to see the results, Tack turned and dived behind a large piece of a deli rooftop as bullets whizzed by him. Suddenly, Tack felt an enormous tremor wrack the ground, and he spun around to see the burning wreckage of a second helicopter smoking in the middle of the street behind him. His ears were so numb that he hadn’t heard the helicopter arrive or crash, something that vaguely frightened him. As his wits returned to him, however, Tack realized that the other Truants were already fleeing behind the wreckage of the helicopter without waiting for his word. Seeing a few of them get shot down before they could make it, Tack cursed and readied his sword.
An Enforcer leaped right over the piece of rooftop that Tack was crouched behind, and a moment later his mouth opened to emit what Tack knew was a scream despite the fact that his ears were too numb to hear it; it couldn’t have been anything else, after all, since Tack had just plunged his sword into the man as he leaped overhead. Seizing the Enforcer’s body, Tack slung it over his shoulder as a sort of morbid armor and swiftly retreated around the wreckage of the helicopter. As he made it to temporary safety, Tack threw the body away from him and dashed for the nearest obstacle. Once behind it, Tack looked back and saw with a sinking heart that they’d almost been pushed back to the end of the street; the white cube was in sight, its guards looking increasingly nervous.
As Enforcers once more poured from around the new helicopter crash, Tack made a quick decision that he knew would save the most lives.
“Retreat!” Tack bellowed. “Fall back!”
The Truants stared blankly at Tack, who decided to set the example and run. He dashed for the white cube, and as bullets flew at him and fleeing Truants screamed as they were hit, Tack drew a lighter from his pocket and touched it to the fuse on the cube. A few seconds later, a massive cloud of white smoke enveloped the area, eliciting shouts of confusion from the Enforcers. Using the smoke as cover, the Truants began to abandon the street completely, openly fleeing around the block and back towards the movie theater. Tack realized that the fight had been hopeless from the start; Zyid was able to outwit the Enforcers, but they simply outnumbered and outmatched the Truancy.
As Tack turned to fire at any Enforcers that had come through the cloud, he saw something that sent a wave of shock running through him, shortly followed by a surge of anger. A redheaded, unarmed Truant was standing on the sidewalk, deep in conversation with two uniformed Enforcers. The Truant pointed at the movie theater, the Enforcers spoke into their radios, and then they quickly ushered the turncoat Truant into an abandoned pizzeria.
Tack felt a righteous fury grip his mind, and the next thing he knew he was recklessly dashing towards the pizzeria, sword in one hand and gun in the other. Without looking twice, he shot down an Enforcer that emerged from the cloud, and then kicked open the door to the pizzeria as soon as he reached it. Plunging inside, Tack immediately brought his sword stabbing forward into the gut of the first Enforcer, who had been right by the door, and then brought his gun up to fire repeatedly at the second Enforcer until his gun had exhausted all of the rest of its thirty-two shots.
Loading a fresh clip into his rifle, Tack advanced into the dingy room, spotting the redheaded traitor cowering in a corner. As Tack grimly examined the boy’s face, he found, with a jolt, that he recognized the Truant; it was Charles, the redheaded cigarette addict that he’d met the day he joined the Truancy. Tack raised his gun, and Charles let out a moan as he scrabbled to his feet. The ringing in Tack’s ears had subsided just enough so that he could hear the boy’s protests.
“Don’t shoot me, please!” Charles begged, pressing his back against the wall. “Don’t shoot; I didn’t mean any harm; I just wanted out!”
“Why?” Tack held his gun straight, his voice filled with cold fury.
“Because it’s too much! I don’t want to die; I don’t want anyone else to die; I just want out; I’ll take the streets, the sewers, anything; please, let me go!” the boy wailed.
“You betrayed us,” Tack said icily.
“I just wanted to leave! I hate school too; I like you guys; I just don’t want to see any more death! I can’t even calm my nerves anymore!” Charles wailed, sweating. “Please, Takan!”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tack demanded.
“I couldn’t!” Charles moaned hysterically. “You know Zyid! I was scared, and even if I asked he wouldn’t let me; you know he wouldn’t!”
“You were talking with the Enforcers about the theater,” Tack pointed out. “You told them about the pipe bombs, didn’t you?”
“I’m sorry; I swear I am! I just wasn’t thinking; I just wanted out so bad, so bad! Please, man, don’t screw me on this; I didn’t mean any harm!” Charles slumped to the floor, crying.
Tack wavered. The boy’s intentions were innocent. He didn’t want to betray anyone. But still, he did betray someone—he betrayed them all. He put the entire Truancy in danger. If Tack hadn’t caught him, who knew what he might have told the Educators? And if one kid lost his nerve and deserted, who could tell how many others would follow?
As the boy continued crying on the ground, Tack felt a sudden remorse welling up in his throat. Looking down at the blood on his clothes, he realized that he was being a monster. He didn’t want to hurt a fellow Truant, no matter what. Since when had he become so heartless? Tack lowered his gun.
“Get up,” he said hoarsely.
Charles looked up at Tack in terror, saw that he’d lowered his weapon, and then slowly got to his feet.
“It’s okay,” Tack said soothingly. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything, but you are going to have to come back.”
Charles’ eyes ballooned.
“Back? I can’t go back!” he screamed. “Zyid will make an example of me; you know he will; he’ll have to! I can’t, not back there, not with everyone around!”
“He won’t kill you; the other kids would be disgusted if he did,” Tack said, trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince Charles.
“How can I look at their faces again? I ran away; I was a coward! I can’t do it! They’ll hate me!”
“This isn’t school, damn it!” Tack yelled suddenly. “We don’t fight each other!”
“I can’t take that shame!” Charles insisted. “Please Takan, just let me go. I’ll disappear. You won’t regret it. No one will ever know.”
Tack had opened his mouth to answer when suddenly another voice issued from behind him.
“I would know,” Zyid said quietly.
Tack would forever remember the look of pure, bestial terror on the boy’s face as Zyid spoke. Turning around to face the
Truancy leader, Tack wanted to speak, to say something that might stop Zyid. But as Tack looked at Zyid, he found himself familiarly speechless, unable to say a word in that formidable presence. Zyid was again the judge, and he now the bailiff, with the defendant cowering in a corner. As Tack gazed at Zyid’s face, he saw no trace of anger, but instead he was sure that, for the briefest of seconds, a great sadness had flitted across Zyid’s face.
Charles, at least, seemed to know what this meant.
“No … no please no … no no no no!”
“My apologies,” Zyid said quietly.
Tack froze. He could see it coming; he knew what was coming next. He wanted to stop it, he had told himself that he wouldn’t allow it … but when the moment came, he couldn’t even try. His own will had deserted him, and his sword lay motionless at his side.
Zyid drew his own sword swiftly, and then plunged it into the boy’s heart in one fluid motion. The boy let out a final whimper before slumping against the bloodied wall. Zyid drew himself up slowly, as a great weariness now hung about his shoulders. Zyid straightened himself majestically, wiped his sword on the dead boy’s shirt, then sheathed his weapon and turned to Tack.
“Takan, he died a hero’s death fighting the Enforcers. Do you understand?”
Tack’s face was emotionless even as he clenched his fist, gripping his pistol so hard that his hand turned red. How dare he. How dare he. He had no decency—he’d killed a defenseless boy like his life had meant nothing. It was murder in cold blood. Just like Suzie. At least this time Zyid was trying to do something for the dead person. Where was the heroism when Suzie died? Who had acknowledged anything about her? No one, least of all her killer, standing just three feet away!
“I understand,” Tack croaked.