A Regressive World: Book One

by Baldasaro, Jason

  The soldier nodded her head, and then Jessica got down on her knees. She was still hell bent on doing it her way. Once positioned on the ground where Cunningham liked them, he had them lace their fingers behind their heads, but Jessica kept her head raised up to God.

  The soldiers that lined them up execution style, backed-up, and stood behind them where they could not see. The clicking of boots on cement flooring, clattered as they walked up, and down behind them. Then those same boots made their way to the front, and now she could see it was Cunningham's chiseled smug face. He stood in front of us, took his clipboard from under his arm again, and jotted down some notes in it.

  Cunningham had to get the last word, "You trash are now going to die in this stink-hole. While I'm going to go back to base, have a nice meal, and relax on my cot for the rest of the evening." After saying what he wanted to say, he spoke to his six soldiers that were to be the firing squad. He ordered, "Cock em. Lock em. Good… Ready, aim, fi—"

  Jessica heard Cunningham’s orders being interrupted. The quick shriek of six high-pitched whizzing sounds rang out, as she thought they were the bullets coming for her head; but then six thuds to the floor behind her. More whizzing sounds slicing through panes of glass throughout the room. Glass fallen to the cement floor, soldiers begin to return fire. POP, POP, POP, BANG, POP, BANG! The smell of gun smoke filled the air.

  Andrew got down on all fours and briskly made a break towards the direction of safety. That's all it took for the rest of them to follow along, each looking like canines. They all knelt, and place their hands in shattered glass, as they made their way to the front desk to use as a barrier between them and the stray bullets. Blood pooled under her hands, and knees. She contemplated picking out the glass but wasn't sure if she would have to crawl through more bits of sharp glass along the way.

  With all the commotion going on behind the desk, Jessica had to poke her head around the desk to see what was going on. There were no other people in the room, except the soldiers, and they were taking heavy fire. Cunningham was bleeding, but he was definitely alive, and well. With a pistol in his hand, he was firing off round, after round, at what appeared to be ghosts.

  Amongst the chaos, he managed to yell out, "To the roof, the chopper is here!" He was the first one to the stairwell, and in through the doorway. With blood seeping through their suits, the remaining soldiers followed his lead. Andrew and the rest of the group didn't immediately follow, but they could hear the final door slamming shut. Once the soldiers were gone, there was nothing but quiet, and stillness in the air.

  Now seemed like a good time for Jessica to decide to pull the shards of glass from her hands. With each pull, it felt like vinegar in an opened wound, and there was that distinctive pinch as it slid out. One, two, three, she started counting, and when it was all said and done, she had counted twenty-three shards in her left hand, and eighteen shards from her right. Next, she had to check her knees. They weren't as bad as her bare hands; at least she had pants and shoes one. She tallied only eleven total pieces from both knees. Her hands were covered in blood, her fingertips stained red, and under her dirty nails were tiny pieces of glass.

  She looked over to the others, and they were doing the same thing. She called out to Andrew, “Hey, Andrew.”

  He pulled a large piece of glass from his wrist and winced. He tossed it to the side, and then replied in a quiet voice, "You guys okay?"

  Jupiter nodded, and so did Barry as they continued to remove the glass.

  “What’s the next move,” Jessica asked.

  He slid on his butt to get closer to the group, “I don’t know what’s going on here.”

  Jupiter chimed in, “Someone, had, our, back.”

  “For sure,” Barry agreed. Then he gets up on his knees so he could peer over the desk, then sat back down. “Our weapons… They’re still on the floor. Just over there. I’m going for em’.” He stood up this time, so there was no glass to worry about. Immediately he started things off covertly as he made his way to the center of the room. They poked their heads up over the desk, as they watched as he slowly, and carefully made his way over to the center of the room. Barry stepped over all the dead bodies, as the dried blood made a sticky sound as it stuck to the bottoms of his boots as he walked carefully about.

  Andrew encouraged him, “Just a little further Barr!”

  “Yeah, come on Barry. Hurry up, and get them,” she said, as she gave her best pep talk.

  Soon he reached the weapons, and not a single bullet had yet to fly. Barry looked around nervously, and then he bent over to pick up the rifles. Once he got as many as he could carry, he rushed back over to the desk and dropped down for cover behind it. He was eager to hand them out, he started with Andrew, then Jessica, and he said to Jupiter, "I got this one for you."

  Jupiter took the new weapon, looked it over, and immediately started to pull it apart. Andrew took notice, and asked, "Jupe, what are you doing?"

  He continued to take it apart, “I’m, modifying, it, so, it, shoots, better”

  “Can you fix mine,” Barry asked.

  “Mine too,” Andrew pleaded.

  Jupiter nods in agreement and picked up the other two rifles. He begins to modify them just as quickly as the first. By the time he was done, Andrew, and Barry had barely blinked it seemed. Jupiter handed the rifles back to them, "Here, much, better."

  As they waited to hear the chopper touchdown and lift off, they stayed still, and quiet. Minutes passed, without so much as a mouse's squeak. Then the stillness of the quiet broke, as the sound of the front doors opened up. The metal doors scraped the uneven floor as it echoed about the room. Lumps settled in their throats as they awaited their blind enemy.

  Andrew motioned for them to ready their weapons, just in case they were about to be in a firefight with flesh-eaters, or The United Front. He held up a fist, and mouthed, on three we go. The first finger went up, they could now hear the sound of people walking on the broken glass cautiously. The second finger went up, the doors slammed shut. Finally, the third finger went up, they stood up quickly and aimed their barrels of our weapons forward towards the doors.

  "Whoa, easy guys! We come in peace," a male's voice yelled while trying not to get shot.

  Their adrenaline slowed, and they could now begin to see clearer. The man who just spoke was wearing an army green t-shirt, a tan bandanna around his neck, two weapons, one in each hand, and behind him were what appeared to be rebel looking people behind him; of course, all were armed. The man was older than Jessica by a few years, but not much older than Andrew and Barry. He calmly spoke to them again, "I'm going to put my weapons on the ground, and so are my fighters. If at any point you feel safe enough to lower yours, please, do so."

  The man signaled for his men, and women to lower their weapons to the ground, and they do as they were instructed. Next, it was time for him to do as he had told them he would do. He moved slowly, not to startle or alarm us, he placed his weapons on the ground. Then ever so slowly he straightened back up. "My name is Ethan Drake, and these are the rebels," he said, as he turned to his fighters.

  Andrew spoke up, “Was it you?”

  “Was it us what?”

  “That saved us,” Andrew asked, hoping for a yes.

  A pause, then Ethan answered, “Yes.”

  Jessica lowered her gun to the floor, not because of his answer, but because of they sincerity that was delivered by him in his voice.

  “Thank you,” he said to me and smiled, “anyone else?”

  Again Andrew not trusting anyone anymore, asked another question, "Why?"

  "Why not? We see others like us about to be slaughtered like cattle, and we just can't stand by, and watch. Is it safe to assume, you're not rebels or wanderers?"

  She was lost, so she dribbled out, “Rebels? No. Wonders? What do you mean?”

  He spoke in such a calming tone as he replied, "Oh sorry, please you must forgive me. I've been out here so long; I sometimes forget that
there are still people who don't know what I mean by wonders. Let me explain. Wonders are people that live out here in the aftermath of the air-raids, and the post-apocalyptic environment."

  Barry apparently has heard enough, and lowered his weapon to the ground, and Jupiter followed suit. By Ethan's body language, Jess could tell he was more than pleased with their decisions. Andrew on the other hand still wasn't buying it. Trust at this point is a huge issue since they were just attacked by flesh-eaters, lined up in a firing line, and our own United Front turned on them.

  She knew she needed to do something, this standoff between Andrew and Ethan needed to end, and not in a bloodbath. She raised her hand in the air, signaling that she had something to say. Ethan acknowledged her request, and she put her hand down.

  “Ethan is it? If I may, could I have a little conversation with my friends, especially the one with the gun?”

  “Of course, whatever makes you comfortable,” he replied.

  With that, she huddled up with the group, and started to talk in a low whispery tone, "What are you doing?"

  “Me,” Andrew asked defensively.

  "Yes, you. We all have no weapons, and you're aiming at his head. They saved our friggin lives in here. In case you forgot, we were less than a half count away from our brains on the walls. Put the gun down."

  Barry nodded his head as he spoke, "I agree if they wanted us dead, then why would they have stopped Cunningham, and his goons from killing us? Put the gun away."

  Jupiter also agreed by nodding his head.

  “Fine, but don’t make me tell you I told you so,” he said, as he laid down his rifle.

  Then they broke their huddle, and put their hands in the air; signaling that we were no longer armed. The tension was high, and she felt like it’s only a one-way in this situation. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and the seconds dragged on like they were minutes, as they stood there unarmed, waiting for the next move.

  Ethan looked at us, and smiled, “You can put your hands down.”

  They did as they were instructed. Still they were confused, with no instruction manual on how to handle this conundrum. Andrew looked at Jess, and mouthed, what now? She shrugged her shoulders and looked back at Ethan. The smile on his face was gone, and he looked more serious.

  He pointed to us, and ordered his group, “Shoot em.”

  Her heart sank, knowing that this was how she was going to die. He turned on them, lured them in with trust, got them to drop their only difference maker; their weapons, and now, he’s going to kill them. Yet they didn’t try to run, fight back, or hide. They knew their fate, and they stood firm that they were going to take it standing up.

  Ethan's smile comes back, and he lets out a light laugh. "Relax, no one's going to harm you. I was testing you. Seeing if you would trust us, and put your weapons down. Take what was coming to you like men, and women. We can't just have anyone come into our group. I'm sorry to have done that to you guys," he said. Then he approached the front desk and held his hand out. He went down the line and shook each of their hands.

  “Welcome to the Rebels Squad,” he said with a larger smile.

  Relief flooded her body, she couldn't have been more excited, that the people who happen to have saved their lives, were good too. They came from behind the desk and stood face to face with Ethan. His rebels picked up their weapons and make their way over to the group. They, like Ethan, greeted us and made us feel welcome. She hasn't seen anyone outside her Cluster since the zombie apocalypse began. It was a welcomed sight.

  Through the sounds of greetings being exchanged, it came, and it came loud. The thumping of chopper blades pounded the desolated ruin of a building. It could be heard through the silence, and felt through the cement floors. Ethan looked up, then to the stairwell.

  “Quick to the roof, bring that chopper down,” Ethan yelled to his rebels.

  The rebels bolted to the door and hauled up the stairs to the roof. Luckily the hospital wasn't large, so it was a quick trip to the top. Ethan stayed with our group, "Follow us, but stay in the stairwell when we reach the top."

  Jessica replied, “Got it.”

  They followed him to the stairwell, and up the stairs to the roof. Sweat dripped from her brow, there really wasn’t much exercising in the Cluster, and so the stairs were quite a workout. Andrew didn’t seem to have any issues with the stairs, he kept up with Ethan, stride for stride. Here Jessica was, legs burning with each step she took, where is Barry, and Jupiter glided along like gazelles

  Faster than she had expected, they were getting closer to the roof. She could tell this because the thumping of the heli pounded the stairwell they were in. Ten stairs above them were the rebels; they were huddling at the door awaiting Ethan’s command. They soon met up with them, and Ethan gets into the middle of the huddle. He gave them a pep talk. Then tells them, “Take down that chopper! On my count, three…two…one…Go!”

  The rebels break through the doors and started unleashing fury on the U.F. soldiers. Andrew grabbed Ethan's arm gently, "I'm a soldier, and so is Barry, we can help."

  Ethan pondered over the proposition and decided that Andrew and Barry would be an asset. They burst through the doors and joined in on the firefight. Ethan readied his weapon, and turned to Jessica and Jupiter, "You two stay here, no matter what happens do not go through those doors. Got it?"

  They nodded their heads in agreement, then they watched as he made his way through the doors. Guns firing, people screaming. She heard the weight of the chopper as it touched down on the roof of the crumbling building. She couldn’t just stand there, and wait, she had no idea what was going on up there. Was Andrew and Barry safe, was Cunningham dead, or was he on the chopper, she thought. Time seemed to stop as she cocked her weapon.

  “Jupiter, you stay here just in case. I’m going out there,” she said to him.

  “Jess, don’t, he, said, to, wait, here.”

  “I know, but I can’t just stand by while our friends are in a firefight.”

  She didn't hesitate, she ran up the remaining few steps and busted through the doors. The first thing she noticed was how bright the sun was from up there. Everything seemed to slow down, all the gunfire, and violence around her turned to silence. The black chopper to the right of her was loading up with troops while the remaining soldiers on the rooftop seemed to be winning the battle. She looked, and saw that one of the soldiers was Cunningham; he was actually one of the pilots of the chopper.

  The rebels were fighting hard, and with a driven purpose, which she, of course, couldn't comprehend at this moment. Andrew caught her eye for a brief moment, as she was furiously smashed in the face with the butt end of a rifle. She could taste the blood forming in her mouth, and the coolness of that same blood dripping down out my nose. The good news was, she didn't get knocked down, or knocked out. She quickly recalibrated herself, and hoisted her rifle to her shoulder, then let a few rounds fly.

  As time slowed once again, she could see the bullets screaming through the air. She could track the rounds as they sunk into the soldier, directly in his chest. The force knocked him backward, and eventually, he dropped to the ground. She wiped her bloodied nose and saw the crimson red stain on her sleeve. With that, she didn't skip a beat, moving on to her next target.

  Lurking for her next target, she caught a glimpse of Andrew on the ground. On top of him, a soldier with a knife, two hands wrapped around the handle, he was pushing the tip of the dagger down with all his strength towards Andrew’s chest. While at the same time, Andrew was doing his best to block the downward pressure with upward pressure. Veins pulsed out on the side of his forehead, and neck, while he gritted his teeth grunting.

  That was all it took for Jessica to change course, and headed towards Andrew’s direction. She was a few steps away from Andrew’s situation, when she tossed her weapon up into the air, caught it by the barrel, swung as hard as she could. Like Babe Ruth, crushing the soldier in the head, knocking him to the ground. The sold
ier’s helmet went sailing across the rooftop, and the knife clanking off the gravel.

  “Jess? What the hell are you doing here,” he yelled loudly as she helped him to his feet.

  She readied her rifle to the correct firing position, and wondered, how could he yell at me of all people, I just saved his life. Yet she found herself answering his convoluted question, “Saving your life!” She started firing off round after round, as she had her conversation with Andrew.

  “You need to get back behind the doors. Ethan told you specifically to stay put, but no, you throw yourself into a massive firefight.

  “I couldn’t just stand down there while you and Barry were up here. By the looks of it, it was a good choice!” With more machine gun firing, the opposition was slowly starting to retreat to the chopper.

  “Jess you’re—“

  "Don't you say it, don't you dare say, girl!"

  He didn't stop firing but did take a moment to glance her way with a quick smile. The rebels continued to push further into the resistance, as they fell back to the helicopter. Battling alongside them was Ethan, and he was noticing Jessica's aggressive fighting style. All of the soldiers were on the chopper, and it began to liftoff.

  The blades furiously started to spin faster, and the rebels took their best shots at the helicopter. The bullets clanked off the metal sides of the chopper. It didn't seem that their shots were doing anything but making dents and chipping paint. With all the slugs that were hitting this metal bird, there must've been some special type of metal on it, a normal chopper would have fallen as soon as it made liftoff.

  Once the he was in the air and flying away, the shooting ceased. There was only the sound of stray shell casings hitting the rooftop and the sound of the chopper blades cutting through the air. Ethan spotted Jessica as she tried to be inconspicuous, and stood in the crowd. To no avail, he finds her, with blood on her face, and weapon in hand.

  He stood next to her, and said softly to not draw attention, “Hellcat, where did you learn to fight, and shoot like that?”