Crimson: The Second in the Trinity Series Novels

by Blade, CG

  “I’m going to need something for a little skirmish Ter.”

  “Yes Petra.”

  Petra felt her hips. There were two heavy guns attached to each of them and they were not her Colts. She pulled the right gun up to her face and examined it. “What is this?” The gun was foreign to her. It was sleek and metallic. About a foot long, it had several cylindrical chambers that could house something. A row of square indentations ran laterally along both sides of the gun as it started to slowly emit a whining sound as if someone had just turned on a piece of machinery to warm up. The indentations were changing several shades of colors as Ter spoke up.

  “It is a Lawgiver 16 Petra. I acquired it from a movie file produced in 2035 directed by Satine Besson called ‘Judge Dredd: The Final Act, no we really mean it this time this is the last Dredd movie—ever’.”

  Petra gazed quizzically at the gun as she flipped a switch on the left console of the aircraft next to her. The canopy, hinged in the front, slowly flipped up. Her nostrils flared. The stench of burning farmlands, buildings, and electronics assaulted her senses as the canopy frame opened fully. A rather large bullet whizzed inches from her eyes past her face as she popped her head up over the jet’s canopy and scanned the land in front of her. There were hundreds of people situated in small camps and compounds throughout the decimated farming community. They were using the massive countywide Cruiser and drone junkyard as cover. 500-feet to the left of her there was a small band of soldiers hunkered down behind some crushed equipment from an encampment. They were returning incoming fire and the fight was loud and nasty. A thick smoky blue haze covered the entire area. The soldiers were protecting a mobile command center with the tattered Stars and Stripes flying proudly overhead. A large black bullet ridden polymer-like tent seemed to be their headquarters. To the right of her, citizens turned thugs were proudly waving large weapons and guns. Directly ahead of her people trapped in or crushed by the huge pile of mangled bots, Carriers, and farm equipment. Individuals caught in the crossfire lay on the ground and their heat signatures did not look so good. Other outlines of bodies in her HUD were turning cold right in front of Petra’s eyes. It was an odd assortment of colors in her view and she knew she had to act quickly.

  Petra stepped over and down the left side of the jet by way of its steel ladder and jumped onto a fiery patch of burned out smoldering terrain. Calmly she walked towards the soldiers who were barely holding their own ground now. They had begun to inch their way back behind the camp as the aggressors moved closer towards them, now only one-hundred or so feet away from the retreating platoon. The soldiers cheerfully waved and saluted to Petra as she stopped, pulled both guns off her hips, pointed them towards the oncoming assailants, and pulled the triggers simultaneously. Nothing happened. “These guns are defective Ter.”

  “They are voice actuated Petra. You have to tell them what to do. Give them a command and they will respond accordingly. I will prompt you if you wish.”

  Bullets and projectiles struck and bounced off her while she got her weapon training from Ter. Her HUD summed up the number of thugs directly in front of her as she held the guns up next to her face and spoke to it, “Sextuplet Whammy,” the gun repeated her words back to her as a sign of acknowledgement. It was a rough husky male voice. “Sextuplet Whammy—ma’am,” the visual indicators on the sides of the weapons turned from crimson to emerald to pulsating cobalt. “I like this guy.” Petra said smiling as she pulled both triggers at once. Six cobalt 19mm flat nose bullets loudly left the chambers of each gun with sequential pops and began to ‘chase down’ each of the armed thugs. The faster the assailants ran the more velocity the bullets achieved. The bullets swerved and dodged around buildings, corners, and in-between structures to strike their targets. Twelve people fell over dead in unison. “I could get used to this Ter.” she proudly proclaimed as she held up both guns and blew the cobalt smoke off the ends of the barrels with her lips forming a small whistle sound.

  “I am glad you approve of it Petra. It also has other capabilities. I will continue to review the technical data sheets on the weapon created by the film’s manufacturer.”

  Engulfed and sprayed by dirt, debris, and other matter from the rounds striking her, Petra quickened her pace and formed a shield between the military camp and the hoodlums, thugs, and other nefarious types. She continued to fire as bullet after bullet left the futuristic looking guns. Wave upon wave of loud pops came from Petra’s hand cannons. Groans and grunts of people struck down by the flying interceptors echoed and bounced off the towers of twisted metal. The scent of death mixed with burning flesh and moist humidity filled the air.

  “Stop shooting us! You’re killing us!” a female yelled from behind a pile of burnt out drones in front of Petra. Petra once again raised the guns up to her lips and blew the cobalt plumes of smoke rising out of the barrels.

  “Come out now or you will die.” Petra told her with conviction.

  “Okay—okay I’m coming out.” The woman stood up shaking, throwing her weapon down at her side. She raised her hands in the air.

  “Where is the rest of your clan?” Petra asked her.

  The sounds of the gunfire were slowly coming to a halt on both sides as the woman decked out in what appeared to be a makeshift rebel military uniform complete with red face paint that made her look like a raccoon stepped out into the open. Putting her left forefingers to her lips, she let out two ear-piercing whistles. “We want to live!” she yelled, “We just want a chance to live.”

  “Come out! All of you come out now!” Petra yelled in their direction.

  Slowly but surely they started to rise up from behind the mangled barricades, throwing their weapons down at their feet. Proceeding towards Petra, they lowered their heads not making eye contact with her. The whistling woman in front seemed to be their leader and she stepped over and through piles of burning material until she stood in front of Petra. “We’re hungry and we’re tired. We have no homes left and we are—scared.” She looked up at Petra with bright blue puppy dog eyes leaking with sorrow. The red face paint had started to streak down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, so sorry for what we’ve done. We’re Americans dammit—oh my God, we are—Americans and we don’t know what to do. We don’t know what’s happening!” The realization of the situation hit her as the rest of her friends gathered around her as she wept. They hugged her as she wiped away her tears.

  “Can you take these people in Lieutenant Colonel is it?” Petra asked the officer standing next to her now. She returned the Lawgivers to her hips.

  “Yes, if they behave. If they don’t I will be forced to execute them. Lieutenant Colonel Nadine Fabre at your service Captain Dace,” The officer exclaimed proudly. They saluted each other. She eagerly held out her right hand and Petra shook it vigorously. Six-foot tall Lieutenant Colonel Fabre seemed tired and worn. Her sweaty bloodstained brown hair, face, and dark blue uniform were all in need of a good cleaning. Over one-hundred troops had gathered behind their leader wearing the same blood-soaked, torn military clothing. They all looked as though they needed a good meal with the exception of one very pudgy soldier with remnants of dried Twinkie cream and crumbs on his face. Petra knew that substance so well. The smell of a freshly opened Twinkie filled her nostrils.

  “You have quite a mess here Lieutenant Colonel.” Petra eyed the Army officer with respect and admiration. “You’re Fools right?” Petra eyed their dark blue logo emblazoned armbands wrapped around their right upper biceps. It was the Army’s version of the Navy Seals and they were tough as nails. Their creed was the same as the Rangers had been “Mess with the Best Die like the Rest”. When the Army Rangers became obsolete in 2024, Brigadier General Edwin Dehne secretly formed the ‘Fools of April’ hiding the training facility deep underground in Pittsburgh where no one cared to live anymore due to the high amount of toxic air and inbred humans. Aptly named due to the first graduating class on April 1st, 2026, the Fools were their own oxymoron.

  “Y
es we are ma’am, all of us with the exception of Rawbone here he’s a government contractor, our binary sage so to speak.” Twinkie crumbs and all, Rawbone brushed his chubby food covered fingertips off on his stained olive drab pants and shook Petra’s hand. His stubbly unshaven black beard and long greasy hair had also become the recipient of a Twinkie explosion in the past couple of hours.

  “So you’re the guy I need to see if I need a ‘fix’?” Petra asked him grinning.

  Rawbone put both of his chunky arms into his pants pockets up to his elbows and felt around for a second. Two wrapped Twinkies fell through holes in the bottom of his pants pockets, surprisingly making their way past his husky legs, and landing on the dusty ground. One of the men standing next to him picked them up and handed the Twinkies back to him. The crowd burst out in laughter as Rawbone started to grin like a small innocent child. He cradled the Twinkies and pushed through a couple of soldiers with arms extended.

  “Thank you soldier.” Petra snapped to attention saluting him. She took the Twinkies from his sweaty hands and began unwrapping one. He smiled and wiped his sweat soaked hands on his black ‘Punisher Skull’ T-shirt.

  “Great. Now you and skinny can have dinner together, on him.”

  “Ter this is entirely your fault, don’t forget.” Opening the Twinkie, she shoved the delicious golden sponge cake down her throat.

  “Yes I got the memo from Dr. Sanders Petra.”

  The crowd of people mixed with soldiers knew what this ’aloud’ conversation was all about. They had never seen it up close and personal.

  “So what is the situation Lieutenant Colonel?” The two of them turned and walked away from the crowd, towards the F-35B.

  “Well ma’am we have sadly lost over a hundred men and women in the last couple of days. There are 110 of us left here now. We are in contact with our other bases around the country but supplies and personnel are limited. With no way to get provisions moving other than Magna-Rail, we may have to pull out and seek out another base of operation. The locals have gone nuts. They are pillaging equipment for anything of value. Murder seems to be a way of life now for them. They are scared and panicked. We have tried to reason with them, giving them medical attention and what we have left of our dwindling supply of MRE’s. I am not sure how much longer we can hold out here. We need to get some of my people and the civilians in need of medical care to a hospital ASAP.”

  “What is the nearest military installation?”

  “Fort Gordon.”

  “Fort Gordon Capitan Dace,” Nadine answered her back not knowing Petra already had her answer, “about an hour and a half from here.”

  Petra’s face shield lowered revealing her beautiful cobalt hair and luminous irises to Nadine. Nadine let out a “wow” with enormous wide eyes and a smile as Petra put her right two forefingers together and let out an ear-piercing whistle. Nadine winced a little from the unexpected shrill sound as the sleek F-35B’s Pratt and Whitney F135 engine started to hum and rotate coming to life sending debris flying behind it. The landing gear retracted after a couple of seconds and the aircraft hovered gently above the ground. The nose of the aircraft pitched slightly upwards as the ailerons and fight controls did a prefight check on their own. The Lightning II turned itself south as the engine rotated horizontally. The back fins attached to the engine’s exhaust started to fan open, dovetailing. Kicking into afterburner mode it disappeared out of sight within seconds.

  “It will just be a couple of minutes,” Petra told her pleasingly as she unwrapped the second Twinkie and shoved it into her mouth. Nadine was speechless and the area was dead calm. Not one person uttered a single word as they all stopped what they were doing staring at her and then the sky with awe and amazement on their faces.

  Thursday October 18th 2:00 PM

  “There’s nothing here Petra. I just do not understand it. A couple of stupid rocks in the middle of farm country that is all. This whole thing seems like a, a—” Nadine pounded her fist down and the shook the entire table next to her.

  “—a ruse?”

  “Yes Petra a ruse! That is the word. There is nothing of significance here other than the Guidestones which are now buried deep under that smoking pile of smashed metal and dead people like ET the Video Game.” Lieutenant Colonel Nadine Fabre took a sip of warm water out of her cup and set it down on the foldable steel table. The top of the table filled with scattered charts, broken Vidscreens, and a dripping pile of bloody bandages. Her left hand was missing a piece of a digit. Her pinky finger removed at the first knuckle or worse, cut off, recently. Her head and her body needed some sleep, deep sleep. Her once beautiful dark blue officer’s Army uniform was in shreds. Petra could tell she was in need of medical attention and was battered and bruised with severe lacerations that hadn’t been attended to properly. The two of them sat in the command tent with Rawbone, his back to them. He was swiping and typing away furiously on some equipment that was heating up under the afternoon Georgia sun. He was cussing and hitting himself in the head repeatedly, yelling at the equipment while banging on it. Nadine had drops of sweat mixed with dirt forming at her hairline and running down the sides of her face.

  “What happened to the corpsman in your unit?” Petra asked studying Nadine with one eye and Rawbone’s curious movements with the other.

  “When we first arrived on the scene we were too quick to help the locals and I take full responsibility. I sent them out with a squad of my best soldiers to help the wounded and they were—ambushed. Their weapons, clothes, and even their fillings were taken from them. They took their fucking fillings Petra! Those savages yanked the fillings out of their teeth. My best troops were torn apart.” Nadine lowered her head and shaking it slowly. She grabbed her temple and squeezed it hard with her left hand.

  “It’s not your fault Nadine. In times of a catastrophe, people react differently. These locals and most of the American people have had no formal military training. They are in crisis mode fending and foraging for themselves now. Panic and fear have set in. Unfortunately, it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better. You need to hang in there. You’ve got troops and civilians who need you.”

  “She is in minor shock Petra and needs medical attention.”

  “Yes Ter she is.”

  “I know Petra but I am supposed to be one of the best dammit! I should have known better.”

  Petra was not going to change Nadine’s mind right now and she knew it. There would be only one thing that could help her forget the atrocities here and it was precious time. “Is there any information available that leads us to understand why this happened?”

  Rawbone piped up loudly “Yea I might have something that you would be interested in.” he had to turn his whole body around to look at her; his head would not swivel on his chunky neck. Flexibility was an issue. He vocalized as if he had food caught in his throat that he couldn’t swallow.

  Nadine extended her hand in his direction “Talk to our sage. He’s been through all the data.”

  “Well, I went through all of the typical anomalies such as longitude and latitude bandwidth, GPS, our microchip problem we had earlier this past year, binary breeches and of course astrological information. None of that seems like the cause.” He scratched his greasy long hair hard. Flakes of dandruff floated off his scalp onto his shoulders.

  “Astrological?” Petra asked probing for more information.

  “Uh yea, you see the Georgia Guidestones are supposedly an astrological calendar like Stonehenge with various languages imprinted on them, messages if you will, for humanity to live by. So we thought at first maybe this was the beginning of a sort of—message, an invitation, or worse an invasion. The vertical channels through the four larger outer stones through the center stone indicate celestial poles. The horizontal slot indicates the path of the sun. Lastly, when sun shines on the capstone it marks moontime throughout the year. It was built and paid for by a group calling themselves the ‘Americans who seek an Age of Reason’ i
n 1980, March 22nd to be exact.”

  “He is absolutely correct Petra. There is also a time capsule allegedly buried under the stones.”

  “What about the time capsule, any clues on that?” Petra asked him as he threw her a Twinkie. Nadine ducked as it whizzed past her head.

  “I don’t know. All we do know is it’s buried about six-feet under the stones but there was never a date on when it was supposed to be unearthed. Unfortunately, we only have a limited supply of power and this damn Vidscreen needs more charging. I am at a loss right now. I wish I could help you. If I could get this thing charged I could at least get us to the burial site with roadmaps.” Rawbone set the Vidscreen down on a table next to him and sighed heavily wiping his forehead.

  “Ter what is our current GPS capabilities?”

  “I am afraid all I have are magnetic compass and electronic gyroscopic direction indicators Petra. Eagle 1 has limited capabilities.”

  “Throw me that network cable there by your leg.” Petra pointed to a dirty black cable laying on the ground next to Rawbone’s ragged and worn-out black tennis shoes. He picked it up with a grunt as if he was powerlifting at the Olympics, tossing the light flexible cable to her. Petra lowered her head between her legs and untied her ponytail. She peeled up the polymer port cover at the back of her neck and inserted one end of the cable jack into her head. She raised her body back upright, “plug this into your Vidscreen,” she threw the other end of the cable back to him.