by M K Hussain
In front of us now is Rebecca and company, continually co-ordinating their own fight ahead of them.
“What is that?” asks Rebecca, in the midst of fighting off one of the horde.
“That… that’s George,” I reply, fighting against the horde also, back to back with Rebecca.
“Who’s George?” asks Sarah this time, punching a member of the horde into the kys with ferocity.
“And who is that?” William chimes in, fighting off someone as well but staring at a madman now wielding a rare-looking staff.
“That’s Brutus,” I reply, “but never mind that now. Neil, do you think you could do what I asked you to do?”
Neil nods as he jumps at George. Neil jumps onto one of George’s knees as George sets about trying to club him. Neil climbs onto George’s club as George screams in agony after having accidentally smashed the club into his left knee, blood spewing out from that area.
Neil continues to ascend up the club strategically towards George’s grotesque face. He nears his target and angles himself at the exact point where he needs to be. He unleashes a special arrow and fires it at George – a vertigo-inducing arrow landing between George’s eyes. George stumbles and fumbles around on the spot as Neil zip wires down to us on the ground once more.
“You guys handle the battle,” I say to Rebecca, William, Neil and the new girl among us as we continue to fight against the horde.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” I say to the woman.
“Sarah.”
“Sorry. Sarah.”
“And the guy who just whupped that troll is Neil.”
Neil nods at Rebecca and William, who just nod back awkwardly.
“Leave George and Brutus to me.”
Just then, George falls to the ground with a huge thump as we get out of the way of his fall, his actions causing him to hit his head on a huge collection of rocks nearby, causing him to black out. Brutus cuts us off as he swiftly attacks me with his staff, angry at having his original plan screwed up by me.
“This isn’t going to stop until I walk through Preb,” he shouts at me with his teeth clenched. I narrowly escape his staff while the others continue the fight against the horde. Having put his staff down for a moment, he uses fists now, swishing them inches away from my face as I move my limbs to defend myself and fight back. He too avoids my attack formation using the borrowed powers from his horde against me, making himself transparent at times, and making it impossible for me to lay a hand on him.
“No. The only way this is going to stop is by putting an end to you and your selfishness,” I retort mid-block.
In an instant, a voice begins booming in our ears from overhead.
“Attention, all prisoners, place your hands behind your backs and step away from each other. You will be fired upon if you do not comply. So says the Commander…”
28
LAST MAN STANDING
High in the sky are dozens of the Commander’s rectangular airships, each of them crisscrossed to allow many hover racers to fit into or around them to create a formidable outer layer. The central part of the airships are transparent but solid, allowing enough space for a window to be inserted which is currently being used to view the carnage being displayed outside. A hologram of the Commander stands inside one of the airships on the front line, all now staring down at Brutus and I.
Then, several spotlights from the airships fix upon everyone in the crowd of prisoners beneath them. The weapons from the airships extend from several ports around them, locked and loaded with fervour, ready to rain down on anyone not following the Commander’s orders.
With this temporary distraction in place, I decide to use this to my advantage and attack Brutus, viciously kicking him in the midsection, swatting the sides of his face with the backs of my hands and sharply punching him in the chest before tripping him and throwing him to the ground.
He does indeed trip and fall, his crown thrown off of his head and cape torn in the process. Brutus tries to lift up the nearby staff but I get to it first, kicking it dead centre of the wood, breaking the delicate frame and kicking it away from him, the Ruby still attached to the patterned section.
Brutus kneels on the ground with one knee, trying to catch his breath. Then he looks up at me with blood forming at one corner of his mouth. He stretches out his fingers to me, trying to overcome me with his own particular brand of mind-control.
I fall to the orange, wet murky ground. I writhe about in pain and agony as every part of my body starts to endure the maximum amount of pain that it is possible for anyone to ever suffer at one time. Brutus’s voice echoes multiple times in my head now, telling me to just keel over and die, leaving my own self behind me while he inserts himself into me holistically, into my three-day life as my Master.
As the last shred of myself begins to fade away from existence, leaving me to turn into one of Brutus’s never-ending line of prisoner zombies, a familiar feeling of the higher power I had felt before calms me down and several thoughts enter into my brain.
I can do this.
Neil did so too.
Just like the others can do as well.
NO, GIVE IN. BECOME MY SLAVE. YOU’LL NEVER HAVE TO WORRY YOURSELF EVER AGAIN. DO MY BIDDING AND BE HAPPY EVER AFTER.
No. Never. I want to overcome this. I need to overcome… you.
I calm myself right down and ignore Brutus’s multiple voices inside my head.
I start to think about my own potential, my own survival skills that have led me to the end of Day One. I think about Brutus’s cruelty thus far, his influence weakening in me by doing so.
I begin to shake, as Neil did, gradually out of Brutus’s daze.
I rise up off the ground and onto my feet steadily.
Brutus applies more controlling pressure on me.
I begin to suffer again internally but I look at Brutus’s face, into his burning eyes and I visualise a target for me to strike my fury down upon.
I reach out with my thoughts to the higher power.
Thank you.
With a deep breath, I ball my fists up and bring my right one down squarely into Brutus’s face. He falls onto his back on the ground and gasps for breath.
I look over at my friends and see the most interesting of things.
Defeating Brutus physically and playing his mental game at his level back at him, and winning, had weakened him by such a considerable degree that he is unable to maintain his hold, his influence on all the prisoners around Raeth.
As I continue watching the horde fighting against my friends, I notice the infighting begins to slowly stop as the mind-controlled horde start shaking their heads at random intervals and start looking in my direction.
Sadly, it seems to me many of the pale-faced prisoners have been killed on this day as their bodies litter the ground. The battleground is at a standstill now.
For one fleeting moment, the mind-controlled horde understand what has been done to them and realise that they, like Neil, remembered what they had done while under Brutus’s influence. They look at each other with pity, remorse, fear and hate.
Then as they turn their attention to Brutus, lying on the ground, defeated, their looks turn to pure, unadulterated anger. Their minds had been taken over by this arrogant, selfish prisoner who is one of their kind.
I look at Brutus, a small part of me pitying him.
If I wasn’t strong enough, then maybe Brutus would have had me defeat my friends…
What would I have done if I was in Brutus’s place?
Would I have done the same thing?
I shudder, just thinking about it.
I turn to Brutus who is still lying there on the ground, unresponsive.
“It’s over, Brutus. You lose. Your influence has come to an end. I won’t fight you anymore. I leave you to the fate of your people.”
I turn to walk towards my friends as Brutus shouts at me now, standing up angrier than ever. He outstretches his fingers as the prev
iously mind-controlled horde rush at him.
“STOP!” yells the Commander through his hologram as he orders his airship guns to prepare to attack…
29
NOW IS THE TIME
The Commander’s hologram issues his pilot, Number 2, to fire another warning shot next to Brutus, missing him by an inch.
“Before you come any further, allow me to have a few words with Brutus,” says the Commander’s hologram, using several loudspeakers attached to his airship to reflect his views. He tells Number 9 to continue pressing the button of the intercom system with one hand while telling him to use his other hand to activate the autopiloting system to keep the airship in orbit just as it is.
The Commander stirs slightly in his chair in the Command Centre before continuing.
The horde step back a distance from Brutus, realising that the Commander currently has the upper hand.
“I warned you this would happen, didn’t I? I said you would die.”
Brutus looks at the Commander fiercely and begins to spew venom from his mouth.
“I did everything you asked for. I have brought you the prisoners that you asked of me. Surely, the high and mighty Commander has it within himself to provide me with a little help!”
“You’re right, Brutus. You did do everything I asked you to do. In return, I should help you now. But to what end? You have brought this all upon yourself and you are what you will always be: a prisoner in my world. It will boil down to one of two things – either I’ll hunt you down later and kill you, or you’ll have to take your chances against them, the very same brethren that you enslaved. The way I see it, I’ll just be saving myself a bit of time and effort. Goodbye Brutus, and thank you for your assistance.”
The guns get ready to shoot at us all as I hear the final click of the last gun being loaded.
“Oh, by the way, Brutus. The location of Preb and as to me knowing its location. I don’t know, I never knew. Basically, I lied. Enjoy facing the consequences of your actions.”
Brutus screams in frustration as his former horde flood his personal space, making him fall to the ground. As they encircle him, a huge roar is heard from behind them.
Eyes open in abject terror, Brutus tries to reason with the crowd.
“Stop, stop, all of you! I did what I did, what any of you would do in my position. If you kill me now, I swear I’ll find a way to…”
Someone from the horde shouts, “Don’t listen to him, kill him as well.”
Other voices amidst the crowd suggest they are talking about someone else. Then the crowd goes berserk yelling at each other as they disagree about this other person.
Suddenly, they give way to the prisoner they are talking about – George, in troll form, runs fast towards Brutus shouting in troll speech.
“He made me do it! I’ll kill him!”
Terrified, Brutus shudders as he knows what will come next.
He attempts to back away while he is on the ground, his eyes fixed on George’s massive form through all of its movements, greater than it’s ever been before. George looks at Brutus with rage. He is currently being pelted with various powers from the other prisoners left, right and centre. He does the only thing he can do to quell not only his own rage, but that of the horde too. Ashamed at his actions but fuming at Brutus nonetheless, George raises his huge right foot and shoves it down hard onto Brutus, twisting as he does so, crushing and squashing the life out of his body once and for all in the final, shocking moment of Brutus’s short life.
As everyone looks on, possibly to the road ahead, George shrinks down to normal size, returning back to his original, snivelling form. He then quickly activates his CUT device and escapes from sight, fleeing before something similar could happen to him at the hands of either the prisoners or the Commander’s forces.
Brutus’s body lies unrecognisable in a deep crater with his left hand outstretched. The index finger on the hand shakes slightly, trying desperately to survive even then, before it too finally comes to a rest.
I, like the rest of the prison population, am stunned.
“All guards, open fire!” instructs the Commander quickly before the prisoners have a chance to react. “Leave no one alive, especially Max.”
The weapons begin to fire on us from the airship, taking out dozens at a time.
Looks like we’ve stepped into yet another war.
Suddenly, there comes a huge crashing sound from all around us. We see that what we’ve been through so far is nothing compared to what is next.
A giant tidal wave starts to form all of a sudden, bringing up all of the water present on Raeth. It gets closer to our location with each passing moment, barricading us in as it sweeps up parts of Raeth on its course to us.
“Sir, shall we retreat?” asks Number 584 through the radio.
“Positive. We’ll pick up where we have left off later. For now, we’ll let the elements do our work for us. Sound the retreat! Make your way back to the prison post haste!” screams the Commander through the radio at all his teams out in the field, his hologram disappearing from the ship’s control panel.
The remaining prisoners tremble at the sight of it and try to make plans of escape, each in turn fumbling with his or her CUT device as their brains try to figure out how to work the bloody contraption.
Scanning my surroundings, I see something out of the corner of my eye: a collection of hooded prisoners dotted about in various places across the battlefield. Their eyes are closed and they look to be in deep concentration. One or two of them even have their eyes rolled back to the base of their skulls in order to maintain whatever it is that they are doing.
They look entranced, as if they… are still under Brutus’s spell.
I look back at Brutus’s body and the extended index finger.
It can’t be… he’s dead.
Could this have been one of Brutus’s final strategic moves that he had designed when he was alive? Pawns to move about in this huge game of chess, pieces that he could control when he had been checkmated?
Or was this his final act of revenge?
I have to do something. Those poor, deluded fools are going to plunge all of Raeth’s inhabitants, including themselves, into a watery grave. I’ve got to break their concentration and fast!
I find myself throwing a collective shockwave at their heads. The shockwave is made just for the hooded prisoners as I instruct it to dart past the crowd of prisoners not involved in the formation of the tidal wave. The shockwave meets its mark, knocking out Brutus’s water bearers for a good long while.
Letting out a huge sigh of relief, I turn to face the real problem – the tidal wave. My friends, I notice, have already run ahead to the base of the nearest part of the tidal wave in an attempt to calm the raging waters down.
I run towards them as fast as I can and notice that many more prisoners are also where my friends are, trying to do exactly the same thing. Some of them run alongside me as well, all in the hope of stopping this new danger.
I see Neil has his bow in his hands in front of him, unleashing his speciality arrows to fire at the wave whereas Sarah has activated her CUT device to walk through a door. Confused, I see her again moments later reappear in the same spot, this time carrying a strange, circular gun with her as she aims it at the wave.
Meanwhile, every prisoner is firing every power they possess at the wave when I spot Rebecca and William amongst them too. I see both of them concentrating really hard on stopping the water, their arms raised in the air trying to prevent it from somehow falling on all of us.
In desperation, and not sure I can be much help with my aching chest, I point my hands at the wave, this tsunami of destruction.
So much power to overcome…
Please help me yet again.
Suddenly, a large transparent dome forms around us and the water in the wave slowly start to subside, falling to the ground into its various rightful places upon Raeth. This massive wave, made up of all the seas, rivers
and oceans on Raeth, has to all intents and purposes calmed itself down to its original form.
We all start to relax, but not as comfortably as we would like, as we notice that all of the prisoners present on the battlefield have trained their eyes on the five of us: Neil, Sarah, Rebecca, William and me.
The five of us stand side-by-side as the remaining prisoners on the battlefield now descend upon us again in a battle to finish off all battles…
30
AFTERSHOCK
“Number 9?”
“Yes, Sir?” replies Number 9 at the console, staring at the Commander, awaiting his reply.
The Commander sits uncomfortably on his chair in the prison’s vast main security command centre. His fingers are entangled in his hands in front of him as he reviews the security footage of the battleground, trying desperately to ascertain who had stopped the wave.
That prisoner is the Chosen One.
The footage is blurry but he realises from the content and from the Princess’s words that it has to be one of them.
Rebecca, William, Neil, Max or Sarah.
Their names taste like dirt in his mouth.
“Replay the footage again.”
“Sir, we have replayed several times. What pray tell are you hoping to achieve?”
“Can you clean it up any more than this? I need to be precise.”
“Just finishing the final touches on the footage, Sir. There. That’s the best I can do with it.”
Suddenly, the Commander stands up and bolts out of his seat, his eyes fixed on the prisoner out of the five of them who had stopped the wave.
The Commander then throws Number 9 the coldest stare possible before concentrating on the screen once more.
“Through watching this footage, I can see my enemies in action. I enjoy studying their methods, their techniques, and can relate that information into their chances of surviving Raeth. By studying them, you can prepare yourself to ultimately defeat them. Do you understand NOW?”