‘I do not wish to hurt you,’ he said. ‘But you leave me no choice.’
He turned to the Pavers standing guard by the prisoners.
‘Bring them here,’ he ordered. The Pavers yanked the five hooded figures to their feet, inciting groans of pain from each one, and pushed them into place before the Enoch. The Pavers lined them up in single file with their backs to the crowd.
The Enoch continued speaking, but his words were focused on the five standing before him with their heads lowered.
‘You have broken the law. Treason has only one penance. But because I am merciful I will spare you the rope. And grant you a quick death.’
He held out his hand and one of the Pavers handed him a MissUP 488. He twisted the valve on the side of the grip to change the setting. I assumed he was putting it on the highest one. My feet started rattling on the porch and Parker held my trembling hand in his.
‘Be strong,’ he whispered.
But I was anything but strong in that moment. Roxx was one of those five. I stood on my tippy toes to try and see where he was when the Enoch raised the gun at the first victim's head and pulled the trigger. A load pulsation exploded from the barrel and into the eye of the first ‘traitor’. The black hood whipped back as the head was thrust violently backwards from the force of the blow. The body crumpled to the ground immediately and started convulsing before finally coming to a halt ten seconds later.
I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. I gasped involuntarily and crumpled forward and gripped my chest. The emotion shot from my shaking legs to my lips and teeth. I managed to pull myself up and look on, hoping that it hadn't been Roxx. I scanned the remaining four hoods for any sign of something that would give him away, but saw nothing.
The Enoch raised the gun again and pulled. The second victim fell and went limp. Both bodies lay motionless as the dirt floated into the air. None of them had convulsed and seized as I was expecting. When the Enoch shifted towards the third, one of the hoods moved as if the person beneath was turning their head to the sound of the gun's recoil. It was then that I saw the familiar tattoo etched down the back of his neck. Roxx! I breathed.
He was the fifth in line.
The Enoch pulled the trigger two more times in quick succession and two more of the traitors fell to the ground. Many of the Sifters and Metallics had their hands cupped over their ears. My own felt dull. I could near nothing but the pounding of my heart through the ringing. The MissUp 488 must have been adapted with bullets. The electrical charge that should have emitted from its mouth would have sent the bodies into convulsion and seared them into a blackened pulp—like it had done that woman long ago—but this gun didn't. Blood began to pool around their heads. Definitely bullets.
Parker squeezed my hand when the Enoch raised his gun at the last and final victim: my godfather. The Enoch seemed to pause. He lowered the gun and hopped down from the fountain's ledge. He paced around Roxx and spoke to the crowd once more.
‘Do you see what happens to those who appose the government? The system is here for your safety, not your slavery,’ the Enoch said. ‘Why then do you insist on fighting? Why destroy the only source of oil still active?’
Destroy? What was he talking about? We never destroyed anything.
From the grumbling in the crowd, it appeared others were thinking the same thing.
‘I'm sure many of you have heard by now about the explosion. And saw the black smoke.’ He walked within feet of the first row of people. They all lowered their eyes to the ground.
The Enoch smashed his boot into a black puddle. Its contents splashed onto the onlookers closest to him.
‘You see?’ he yelled. ‘The storm scattered the oil in all directions along the coast. As we speak, there is a large puddle of black oil floating on the surface of the ocean by what's left of the oil rig that these men set ablaze.’
He knocked the nozzle of the gun on the back of Roxx's head and he fell. I heard a crack then a groan as his body hit the earth. The Enoch circled back around and ordered the Pavers to pick him up.
‘Some of you may think me cruel. But I tell you the truth, all crimes against the government and the new system SIND has put in place are punishable by death.’
The Pavers pulled Roxx to his knees, but his head bobbled loosely from its perch. The Enoch grabbed his chin and forced his face upward and removed the black hood.
The crowd gasped as my breath was taken away again.
Blood poured from the back of Roxx's scalp and was dripping down his neck and back. His one good eye was closed and his mouth labored for each breath.
The Enoch kneeled down so that he was eye level with Roxx.
‘Roxx,’ he said. ‘Do you repent of your sins?’
Roxx's head rolled back and the Enoch had to hold it steady to keep him from toppling over.
‘Speak!’ he demanded, ‘or die without a voice.’
Roxx's lips quivered as he tried to speak. The Enoch leaned in closer with his ear keened in.
‘What was that?’ he asked. ‘Speak louder so everyone can hear you.’
‘I said,’ he groaned, ‘go to HELL!’ And spat in the Enoch's face. This immediately got him another smack in the side of the temple. He fell to his side a second time and did not move.
‘Hold him up!’ ordered the Enoch. He tore out a neckerchief from the back of pocket and wiped the grit off his face.
The Enoch grabbed one of the rifles from a nearby Paver and adjusted the valve to the setting he desired. There was no mistaking it this time; he had turned it to the deadliest setting and intended to harm Roxx in the most horrific way possible.
The rifle glowed as the power core charged its electrical bolt. Two Pavers sat Roxx in a kneeling position. His body was slouching to the side and they had to keep poking him with metal rods to hold him up.
The rifle teased his forehead, hovering inches from his face. Roxx's hair floated in the air as the static charge built up.
‘I was going to be merciful, but you leave me no choice,’ the Enoch growled through clenched teeth and raised the rifle to fire.
‘NOOO!!’ I yelled before I could stop myself, and went to run towards Roxx.
I didn’t get more than two feet before the fountain blew up into a ball of smoke and sent me flying backwards.
≈ Chapter 20 ≈
The whole universe went up in a cloud of smoke and dust with one fell blow.
Someone was pulling me by the boots. The grey sky overhead looked blue, which I knew couldn't be real since the sky has never been blue as long as I've been alive. What did that mean? Was I dead? Oh, God I hope so! The edges of my shoulder blades bounced and dug into the uneven porch beams as they dragged me out of the smoldering ash and smoke. Yup, not dead. I'm pretty sure being dragged wouldn't hurt this bad if I was. As my shoulders grazed the last wooden board my body felt weightless momentarily. Maybe I am dead. Then the pain returned as my back smashed into the ground and continued to be pulverized by the loose rocks and impediments on the street. My lips were pulsating, but nothing was happening. I felt my chest rising and falling, but no air filled my lungs. I wasn't breathing. If my lungs wouldn't start working soon I'd suffocate to death. I might wish I was dead, but if I were alive, the last way I'd want to go would be by suffocation.
The skin on my chest reeked of burnt flesh and singed hair. I didn't feel the burning until my nostrils were freed from the ashy captivity and I took my first breath of clean air. I immediately started coughing and screaming out in agony. My lungs began working again as the air rushed in. My chest rose like a vacuum bag sucking every inch of the carpet surface of breadcrumbs and loose hair. Except in my case, it was loose particles of ash, dust, and God only knew what else.
Within seconds of being dragged into the open the hands were scurrying all over my body patting and pounding me. Every touch sent bolts of pain through my body. I tried to hold back the tears, but when the patting reached my abdomen, I couldn't fight them. The pain
increased tenfold and my stomach roiled against the acid and shock waves of pain. My lips started vibrating as a wave of nausea washed over me. The hands continued their torture and raided me until just about every inch of my body had been touched. I was flickering in and out of consciousness when the patting stopped and a chill swept through my skin. The itch crawled its way along the outer layer of the epidermis and sent goose bumps up and down my arms and legs. I could feel their popping eyes pressing up against the inner fabric of my shirt and pants. It only made the burning and the pain worse. Much worse.
When my eyes opened next they were looking into the grey eyes of Parker. The crow's feet along the ridges of his brow looked like dense caverns as deep as the Grand Canyon. I found myself staring into the lines of the wrinkles on his forehead as I felt pressure on my face. His fingers pushed my hair behind my ear and rested on my cheek. I couldn't feel my body, just than the searing heat radiating from it.
‘Willow...’ I read on his lips. The blast must have ripped a hole through my eardrums as a constant loud ‘bong’ sound reverberated in both ears. The buzzing bleached out everything else. My skull felt like someone had a car jack inside and was cranking it up to expand the bone. Parker faded into a curtain of white as the pain escalated and worked its way through my eye sockets and down my cheek bones and into the remaining joints of my body. I don't remember reaching my hand to my right ear, but I must have done it when I went unconscious, for it was hanging in midair in front of my eyes. The fingers were covered in red.
A new, cold burn of fear flamed to life.
I tried to ask what had happened but my voice wouldn't work. Like pieces of sandpaper, my lips were cracked and covered in black ash. I tried to lick my lips for moisture, but my tongue just tore the cracks open like a razor blade. Black shadows were racing around me in the chaos. Parker continued to speak and I blindly stared back up at him. Please God, if I am to live, at least give me my hearing back.
Another body ran by. I rolled my head to the side to watch. A man thrust a grey blanket from his hands over a burning body and fell to his knees. The flames licked at the creases of the blanket as the man frantically wrapped it around his wife in an attempt to put the flames out. He rolled her from side to side and patted her all over with his palms. As I watched him struggle to put the fire out, a spark ignited within me. Is that what the hands were doing to me? Were they putting a fire out?
Fearing the worst, I dared not look at my own body lest I see it charred and blackened, emitting a pale grey steam like this man's wife. Instead, I locked my attention on the scene unraveling before me and hoped it wasn't my scenario. When the man had finished, the woman’s body steamed with heat and lay still. Unable to look upon my own fate, I watched the man as he began to sob for the loss of his wife.
All I could remember of the last few minutes was taking a step forward, then I woke up to my body being dragged. Why was I stepping forward?
Then it hit me like the shingles of a roof clattering to the concrete. Roxx! I tried to sit up but Parker's hands held me down.
‘Don't move,’ I heard him say.
My ears popped, along with the built up pressure in my head. Ask and you shall receive. I found myself instantly regretting having my hearing back and wishing I was deaf. The screams and moans of burning people flooded my awaiting ears. I couldn't see them, which was a blessing, but I knew they were dying. Their screams would surely haunt my sleep if I didn't die myself.
I tried to block the sounds of death from my thoughts.
‘Where's Roxx?’ I muttered. Something warm and liquid streamed down my cheek.
‘We'll find him,’ Parker encouraged. ‘But right now, we need to save you.’
Save me? But I'm alive, right? My condition must have been worse than I knew. Instead of fear, regret and loss gave me company. If Roxx was dead, then I didn't want to live. I tried to picture his quirky smile and glanced over in either direction from my angle, but I couldn't see him. I could just make out piles of black corpses and dark shadows of the living walking around like mummies in the smoke and ash. A heavy weight of hopelessness filled my heart with the thought that Roxx was one of the dead. My parents were taken from me too soon, and now Roxx. What was the point of living anymore?
‘Stay with me,’ Parker yelled.
But I don't want to stay. Leave me alone. Just let me die!
But he didn't. Parker never left my side. He held my hand as I dropped in and out of consciousness. And when I began to fade and slip away towards sleep, he squeezed my hand and said, ‘Stay with me. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here. Stay with me.’
I felt sorry for him. I could see the sorrow and desperation in his eyes as he encouraged me to fight on. He yelled for someone to help. But no one came.
‘I'm sorry,’ I finally whispered.
‘What are you sorry about?’ he said. ‘You have nothing to be sorry about. Just stay with me.’
Tears were falling freely from his grey eyes and his lips quivered when he spoke.
‘I'm sorry you have to watch me die.’
The words came out nonchalantly. I was full of melancholy as I accepted my fate. I'm coming, Mom and Dad.
‘Don't say that!’ he said. ‘You're not going anywhere. I just found you. I'm not letting you go. HELP!’ he yelled into the chaos. ‘Somebody...’
I lifted my hand to his cheek and wiped the stray tear forming at the corner of his eye.
‘Don't be afraid,’ I said. ‘It's okay.’
The shaking started at my legs and worked its way up to my arms.
‘I'm so cold,’ I said.
My teeth rattled through bone and tissue.
Parker pulled the fire blanket closer to my chin and leaned in close.
‘You have to fight now, Willow. Do it for me.’
I stared at his handsome face. The face of a man I hardly knew, who had come into my life unexpectedly, only to see me for a short glimpse in time and space. The world was an unforgiving place. Fate was cruel. I’d lost both my parents and watched my godfather murdered. I’d found an uncle I never knew I had and now I was going to lose him too.
‘Thank you,’ I said.
‘For what?’ Parker seemed to stop fighting, and accepted the inevitable.
‘For coming to find me.’
His jaw shook as he started sobbing. He buried his face into my hair and held me tight.
As consciousness slipped away, the sky graced me with an unlikely gift. The blue was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
‘It's so beautiful...’ I whispered as my eyelids closed.
≈ Chapter 21 ≈
I guess it wasn't my time.
The sky was dark and the chaos had died down by the time I regained consciousness. The road whined with a shallow murmur as the bodies were pulled off the street and piled up. Their screams no longer blurred the air, but I could still hear them in my head. I was on my back, but my shoulder blades no longer hurt. I shifted my weight to try and have a look around and felt something soft underneath me.
The buzz in my ears had subsided. I heard soft chatter as people worked in groups to drag or carry the dead bodies of their loved ones or past colleagues or friends. I shifted to an upright position and found I was lying on an old tarp. A white bandage had been wrapped around my left forearm and my stomach. I didn't feel any pain when I moved so I wasn't sure what had happened.
The last thing I remembered was taking a step towards Roxx to stop the Enoch from blowing his brains out and sending his body into a spasm of buzzing electrodes and seizures when I felt the force of a blast knock the air out of me.
I got to my feet and found I was able to hold my weight without tumbling over. I felt lightheaded, but for the most part, I was stable. I made my way through the haze drifting over the street. The black smoke hung like a fog over the Market. The people looked like black worker ants as they hauled off the bodies. I passed by two men carrying another man. The dead man’s entire face had been burned to
mush and what little fragments of clothing he had left were all in tattered, singed to his skin. His femur stuck out of his right thigh. There was nothing holding it in place other than the fleshy tissue on either side. The rest of his skin had been melted off. As they carried him, the stench of burnt charcoal and hair filled my nostrils and made me cough.
There were towers of bodies stacked up in every direction. I neared one of the smaller piles. I noticed no one was stacking more bodies on this pile, and instead were busy with the others. As I approached I knew why. The grey TI-700 robotic flesh suits were undeniable even with the black stain of fire on them. The suits were nearly all intact. The only thing the suits did not manage to protect were the Pavers’ hands and faces. The fleshless skulls cried out to the heavens with open skeleton mouths.
‘No one can hear your screams,’ I muttered. ‘You brought this upon yourselves.’
I disliked the Pavers, but no one deserved such a horrendous death. I couldn't imagine how painful it must have been when their suits shielded their bodies from the brute of the flames, but their faces and hands took the brunt of it. What a slow and agonizing death.
I shifted my view from the liquidated carnage and on to the rest of the survivors. I found myself suddenly alone among the dead. My ears were ringing with their voices from the grave.
Save me. Someone save us. Help.
A fire erupted a hundred feet away. I could hear live voices emitting over the flames. The scene all around me blurred as I walked from the dead to the living. The survivors were huddled in the center of five large piles of bodies. A few of them were pouring gasoline on the corpses and setting them on fire.
‘What is happening?’ I asked one of the women as I approached.
‘They're burning the bodies,’ she said. Her voice sounded like a phantom's whisper echoing on the wind from a thousand miles away. I went to speak again, but changed my mind. She may be here physically but she was thousands of miles away emotionally.
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