Cull Revolution
Zia Black
Copyright
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 - Zahra Brown (pseudonym: 'Zia Black')
All rights reserved.
License Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold, or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and you did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Zia Black, www.ziablack.com, 2012.
Cover Statue of Liberty Image: Copyright iStockphoto.com/ziggymaj (business name: Crisp Concept)
Cover Background Image: Copyright iStockphoto.com/veenamari
CONTENTS
We knew the US would fight back hard. It was obvious. They had to destroy the rebels before we exposed them for the lying scumbags they are. I didn't approve, but Damon warned them. I would have been more discreet, but I am not the one in charge anymore. Of course, if something happened to him, it would all change...
Or so I thought.
Instead, he found his niece, Kelendria Taylor. A tough cookie who'd eventually take over. To be honest, I didn't want the lead role anymore. Power had been fun, but it never lasts long. There's always someone waiting in the wings, waiting to shoot you down. Now I had bigger things on my mind: Revenge and Reed.
No one crosses me and gets away with it.
No one.
Damon strode into the tent and the small crowd went wild. He hurried to the front and waved at our dedicated followers before raising his hand. They all shut up and sat down. I took my seat behind him with Kelendria and Tran.
"Hello, everyone," he said. "We are gathered here today in loving memory of the past. A past that was lost long ago. It was a great time, when all people had the chance to reach their fullest potential. Sadly, that time is long gone...but we will bring it back!"
I led the brief applause.
"Today I informed Vice President Williamson that the revolutionaries are ready."
There were loud gasps and heads shaking all around, as I'd predicted.
"Why did you warn them?" some guy shouted from the back. "They'll strike first!"
"We're dead meat now," a woman said. "We could've surprised them!"
"Let me explain myself first." The crowd whispered to each other before falling silent. "Yes, Williamson will strike first. Yes, they'll hit us hard. Yes, we'll bounce back. Don't you see? They won't have the element of surprise because we're ready and waiting."
There were a few claps.
"Even better, we'll have more ammunition against our oppressors. They fight ugly. They don't care who gets hurt. All they want is victory, so let them think they have it."
There were some head nods and some clapping at the back.
"We won't stoop to their level," Damon said. "We will show the world a peaceful alternative. We've had enough wars to last several lifetimes. This fight will be different. This fight will be the last."
There was subdued applause.
"I can't hear you!" he shouted.
They tried again, louder.
"I said I can't bloody hear you!"
The noise was deafening. I motioned for Kelendria and Tran to stand, and we joined the applause. Damon raised his fist and everyone did the same. He pumped the air and we followed.
"As always, I apologise for creating the Cull monster." He placed his hand over his heart. "I had the right idea, but unleashed it on the wrong people. There is a certain group who needs to be cut down, needs to be refined, and it isn't us!"
Damon waved and stepped down into the crowd. People rushed forwards to touch him. He touched them back, looking each in the eye, if only for a split second. Then he was gone backstage with four armed guards around him.
Kelendria almost fell downstairs. Damon rushed over and helped her down to the entrance, where she breathed deeply until she got her breath back. She thrust her mobile into his hands and turned up the volume. The soldiers stepped aside letting Tran and I move closer.
"It's my speech before the European Blitz," Damon said. "Why're they broadcasting it?"
"I don't know, but they're only choosing bits and bobs. They cut out the parts where you apologised for starting Cull, and repeated the bits where people get killed."
"Damn it!"
Damon passed the phone to me and walked away. He stared out at the forest, muttering to himself. I gave the phone to Tran and went to Damon. I rested my hand on his shoulder and he stopped mumbling.
"What's wrong?"
"Don't you get it?" Damon shook my hand off. "They're showing everyone what we did."
"So? Surely that's why you went to the media in the first place!"
"I wanted them to hear my side of the story, not some butchered propaganda." Damon marched over and grabbed the phone. He cursed as the news room summarised the video, skipping over any mention of Reed and Leo. "See? They're blaming everything on us! That's why I did it live! They couldn't stop that!"
Damon stopped when he noticed the rebels watching from the crowd. He snapped his fingers and the guards stood by the doors, barring the exit. Nosy people were shooed away.
"What now?" I asked.
"Well, at least we know their first course of action."
"Make us look bad?" I laughed. "Ooh! I'm terrified."
"Ivory, don't you know any better?"
I blushed and Kelendria smirked.
"This is their plan. Make us look bad and then attack. When they do, no one will give a damn. We'll be public enemy number one!"
"Well, you did say they'd hate you..."
Damon glared at me before turning to Kelendria and Tran.
"You two! Get back to camp! Kelly, find out what else the media have said. Tran, call Nellie and prepare our next broadcast. Wait a week or so to see what else the media have in store. We'll call them before the attention dies down."
Two guards took Kelendria and Tran out to the jeep and sped off. The rebels were heading for the doors, so the guards ushered Damon outside. I called after him three times before he turned back.
"What is it?"
"I didn't mean to offend you," I said. "It was just a joke. We used to joke around."
"Before or after you betrayed me?"
I grabbed him by the arm and led him away from the guards, who walked off to the jeep.
"I'm sorry for what I did."
"Yeah, well it's a bit late now, isn't it?"
My hand slid down his arm and my fingers brushed over his. He flinched.
"What should I do?" I asked. "When will you trust me again?"
Damon shrugged and stormed off to the jeep. He hopped into the backseat and left the door open. I rushed over and jumped in. When I shifted closer to him, he squeezed himself against the door.
"Back to camp," he ordered. "Now!"
I was in bed when someone knocked at the door. I grabbed my silenced pistol and checked the chamber before creeping over the women sleeping on the floor. I peeked through the keyhole and saw darkness. I waited patiently until the person backed away. When his back was turned, I threw open the door and aimed at the back of his head.
"Just testing you," Damon said. "You busy?"
I pushed the pistol down my panties and closed the door. I followed him into the woods and we stopped by the campfire. He placed his coat on the ground and I sat down. His eyes glossed over me before shifting away.
"You want forgiveness?"
I nodded.
"Then do me a favour. If anything happens to me, take care of Kelly."
"She can take care of herself." I glanced back at the log cabin. "She was a soldier, remember?"
"She's only twenty-five. You could be a mother fig-"
"Sister!" I sat up straight and stuck out my chest. "I'm too fine to be someone's mother!"
Damon smiled.
"Ivory, you're almost fifty."
"Ssh!" I smacked his leg. "Don't spread lies like that!"
"Okay, okay!" He rubbed his thigh. "So, will you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Take care of Kelly!"
"She's not even a target," I said. "They probably think she's dead. How could she have survived the plane crash?"
Damon handed me Kelendria's phone, where her picture was the main headline on the news page. There was a target on her face followed by a list, my name now relegated to the third spot. I clicked her name and read over the summary.
"Stop the rebels, end the pain?" I scratched my head. "Why'd she say something so stupid?"
"Because she was undercover! Keeping up a pretence, you know."
I dumped the mobile on his lap and folded my arms. He scrolled down the webpage, shaking his head in disgust.
"The media bashing is pretty tame, in my opinion," I said. "When America hears she served in the US army, they'll see her in a different light."
"Obviously they considered that. They say the army transformed her into a killing machine. America created a monster, apparently."
"Well, at least she was nice in the UK."
"Not according to this supermodel." He showed me the ugly, gangly redhead puckering her bloated lips. "She claims to be Kelly's school friend."
"Was she?"
"She says Kelly choked her. Bullocks!"
Damon flipped through the model's gallery and stopped on a nude photo shoot, his eyes lingering too long on her bronze limbs. Typical! I snapped my fingers in his face, which made him jump from fright.
"Oh, sorry..." He closed the gallery and returned to Kelendria's mini-biography.
"How did she react to being America's second most wanted?"
"Not good," he said. "She went out for some drinks."
"She cannot get plastered at a time like this!"
"I know that!" He shoved the phone into his trouser pocket. "Well, see you tomorrow."
Damon marched off down the hill and entered the cabin. He stopped in the dark doorway and looked back. I couldn't see his eyes, but I felt them. I rubbed the goose bumps on my arms before slipping on the coat. My legs were wobbly on the way back, but I tried to look steady on my feet.
Back in bed, I breathed a long sigh of relief. My heart was fluttering and I couldn't catch it. Then I gave up and let it fly, all around the room until tired itself out. It settled down on my chest and I fell asleep.
No, it wasn't love. I had never been in love before, and I had no intention of starting at my age. I am not a one man gal - not a slut either - so let that love nonsense go! This isn't romance, darling, this is life. Get with the times or get lost!
Kelendria stepped out the cabin with her head low. Her eyes to the floor, she followed her uncle to the campfire and sat between him and Tran. I sat opposite them, watching her blush whenever a rebel looked her way. There were hushed whispers, but no one dared say a word when Damon was close.
"If you have something to say, say it!" Damon shouted. "Get it over and done with."
"I'll tell her!"
A rosy-cheeked blonde girl went to Kelendria and stood with her hands on hips.
"We don't like you!" She stuck out her tongue. "Go back to Britain!"
"Oh, get lost," Kelendria spat. "I don't have time for you!"
"Drunk!"
"Look, control your daughter," Damon said. "We're being civil here!"
A scraggly-dressed woman raced from the crowd and stepped between Kelendria and the child. Kelendria rose from her spot and the women stood, face to face.
"Control your niece!" The woman looked Kelendria up and down. "I'm just saying..."
"How dare you?!" Kelendria cried.
"Don't make me, Kelly...Don't make me go there!"
"I want you to go there!" Kelendria stepped closer to the mother. "Come on, then!"
The women stared each other down. Kelendria's fingers slipped round the gun on her holster and the mother grabbed hers. Damon and Tran jumped up and pulled the women apart.
"See?" the mother said. "She's outta control!"
"Me? What about your demon spawn?"
"Says the serial killer!" The woman shook Tran off. "You blew a billion people off the planet!"
"I didn't!"
"Oh, come on! The others faked their way without killing." The mother thrust her phone into Kelendria's hands. "Read it! I'll quote, shall I? You said, I'm the one with blood on my hands. See? You admitted it!"
"They misquoted me," she cried. "Yes, I hurt some people but...I had to."
"Janesh, you're not innocent either, but God damn it you walked away from the bloodshed. Your niece did the opposite...She even assaulted a pregnant woman!"
The crowd gasped and several people tutted.
"I didn't mean to push her..."
Kelendria burst into tears, so Damon held her close. He looked over the fifty rebels, making eye contact with all but me.
"Do you see what they're doing?" he asked. "They're turning us against each other! They want us to argue like this! They're destroying us from within."
The mother and child nodded.
"This is the media's agenda. They're about to divide the country. Some will stand with us, others will shoot us down. While we're bickering like morons, Williamson is plotting everyone's downfall."
Damon lifted Kelendria's head and wiped her tears. She avoided eye contract before her eyes settled on me. I smirked and she frowned.
"Kelly is a murderer. I am a murderer. Ivory is a murderer. We all did what we felt was right at the time."
Damon held out his hand and I strolled over to take it, squeezing gently when my fingers clasped his. Kelendria took his other hand. Tran stood with us.
"I swear to every single one of you that we will not die as we have lived. From now on, we will harm no one. Violence begets violence. It ends now."
The rebels cheered.
The mother and daughter rushed to Kelendria and the trio hugged. The others surrounded Damon and me. His finger stroked mine before he let go. The rebels pushed between us, pulling him one way and me the other.
The world's flags appeared in the background and the camera panned across a studio set. A slender Asian woman in a white commando dress skipped across the set and plopped onto the plush sofa. She waved at the camera and then blew kisses to the crew.
"Good morning, I'm Yu Song here at Revolution Network. Today we have a very special guest, Nellie Ming! He was here a few weeks ago, and viewers loved him. Nellie!"
Nellie bowed to the camera and kissed Yu's hands before sitting beside her. She fanned herself with the cue cards and giggled. The crew whistled and clapped before Yu put her finger to her lips.
"Welcome back!"
"The new set looks great," he said, looking around. "I like the world flag."
"China is still home, but now we must unite!" Yu took Nellie's hand. "We must work together!"
"Now and always." He sat back and crossed his skinny legs. "Janesh is back!"
"I know!" Yu squealed. "What's he like?"
"I haven't met him in person yet, but over the phone he's a trooper. It was an honour."
"Sorry! I invited you here and asked about someone else!"
"It's all right," he said. "Janesh is my hero."
"The viewers said we just had to talk about him. We'll answer more questions later, but first let's go to the phones." Yu turned to the camera. "Once again, sorry we couldn't give out the number. We aren't a legal channel anymore, so we must be more careful! Email and we'll call you back."
There was a loud ring.
"Hello?" a voice said.
"Hi, it's me, Yu!"
"What? That doesn't make any sense...Oh! Oh my God! It's you, Yu!"
The crew laughed and Yu blushed. She put her finger to her lips and the crew members hushed.
"Nick, we've got the bestselling author Nellie Ming here...Any questions or comments?"
"Yeah, last time you talked about us staying peaceful. After the Asian Blitz, do you still feel the same way? I mean, dude, why not fight back?"
"Hi, Nick! I feel the same way. They can blitz us all day, every day, but we won't fight back with violence. We can't give them any more ammunition."
"Cool! Thanks, dude!"
Nellie bowed and gave a quick wave. The camera cut back to Yu, who skimmed over the next card before smiling at the camera.
"Now we've got Martin! Hello!"
"First time caller here..."
"Oh, don't be nervous! It's just Yu!"
"And me!" Nellie grinned. "And her."
"So, Martin, what's your question?"
"I am a reporter," the American said. "I am writing an article on Revolution Network's previous set...Was it really burned down?"
"We've no proof." Yu shrugged. "We think so, but not sure."
"Oh, one more question. If the rebels, I mean, revolutionaries aren't violent, why post such a horrific video online?"
Damon told the rebels to hush and turned up the volume. The others gathered around the television. Kelendria and Tran hurried over, so I moved into the spot beside Damon. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the television.
"What video?" Yu asked.
"The video is titled Rebels Revenge. It has some skinny Asian guy in a mask who's ranting about the Illuminati, evil bankers, AIDS conspiracy, and so on...Anyway, he says the rebels will strike America where it hurts the most. Can you tell us, I mean, me where that is?"
There was a dial tone.
"Another silly troll," Yu cried. "They like sending them, but they will not stop us. The fire didn't, and neither will mean calls from naughty reporters!"
Yu skimmed over the page and stopped at the bottom.
"Let's try Sally. Hello!"
"I think I got cut off," Martin said. "As I was saying, if the rebels are so peaceful then why post such a horrific video? It was disgusting! Any word from Janesh?"
Nellie stopped Yu before the caller was cut off again. The camera settled on him while Yu sank back into the seat.
"Just a minute, Martin!" Nellie waved to someone off camera. "The background is hooked up to a monitor, right? Can we go online?"
The flags faded and a search engine appeared. Someone typed in Rebels Revenge and video results popped on screen. At the top was a twenty minute video with a man in a red balaclava. He was standing in a back garden with an American flag draped over his arm.
"Go on," Nellie said.
The crew member started the video.
I rested my hand on Damon's leg and squeezed gently. He looked down briefly before his eyes shifted back to the screen.
The masked man doused the flag in petrol. He struck a match and torched it, laughing maniacally as it burned. When the last charred pieces withered to the floor, he carried the camera into a rickety wooden shed and locked the door. He dumped the camera on the windowsill and sat on a wobbly stool.
"I am Nellie Ming, a proud follower of Damon Janesh." He stopped to clear his throat of the broken Chinese accent. "Rebels worldwide must unite against the evil Americans. They killed our people from Europe to Asia. Africa, Australasia, the Middle East or South America could be next. Even the Canadians aren't safe. America doesn't like them either!"
"What the hell?" Damon clenched his fists. "Who is that?"
"I don't know," Tran said. "I'll make some calls!"
Tran pushed his way outside.
"America is sick," the man said. "We have the cure! It's the same cure she gives to everyone else: bombs. Big ones. Guns. Every kind. Soldiers. Ready to fight, willing to die. The rebels will cut down and slice up every American we see. Foreigners will be spared if they haven't denounced their true citizenship."
The man grabbed the camera and paced up and down with it. He stopped and smiled into the lens before sitting down again. His head twitched and sweat trickled down his face. He dumped the camera back on the windowsill and sat on the floor, rocking back and forth.
"They killed my people," he said. "They blew us up! America is dead meat and she knows it. She wants war? We'll give her one!"
The man reached into a cardboard box and pulled out a stack of photographs. He showed each one to the camera, pausing before he moved on. Then he grabbed a box of pins and stuck every picture to the wall.
"Look at what she did," he shouted. "Take a good, long look!"
Damon switched off the television and stood in front of the screen, facing away from us. No one spoke, a few soon bursting into tears. Others stared straight ahead, their faces pale. Kelendria had her hands over her mouth, tears in her eyes.
Damon gathered the children around the television and switched on some cartoons. The youngsters' eyes were glued to the screen, but their trembling bodies showed their minds were elsewhere.
Damon and I left the cabin with Kelendria and found Tran by the campfire. We all walked further into the woods until we were beyond earshot.
"Janesh, no one has any idea who he is!" Tran shrugged. "He's probably just another plant."
"It was different this time," Damon said. "God, did you see that? The adults should never have seen that, let alone kids."
"I'll make some more calls. We'll trace him!"
Damon sat on a log and rested his head in his hands. Kelendria moved closer to him, so I gently pushed past and sat beside him. He peered out and frowned before burying his head again.
"Uncle, it's just like you said! He tried to relate to us. He's trying to break us down! Some morons might believe him."
"Some?" Damon shook his head. "People are getting tired of talking. He'll stir up the angry few the media would just love to broadcast. If America sees more like him, our cause will get even harder."
Damon patted the space beside him and Kelendria sat down. She rested her head on his shoulder and he ruffled her hair. He glanced my way before looking at her again.
"America doesn't matter," she said. "The world is behind us. At least it will be once the others have worked their magic abroad. Baas is talking to Egypt. Enlai and Precious are rallying troops in Europe. Dee Dee's done well in South America. We're ready to go!"
"We've had enough wars! If we push ahead by ourselves, it'll be America versus the world. Another war means more dead, and I've already said I'm not killing anymore!" Damon pushed his finger to her lips. "This wasn't just another empty threat. That video was a warning, just like the one I gave them. They showed us what they have planned."
"To tease us," I said.
He nodded, still looking at his niece.
"That hate fuelled rant was to anger everyday Americans. Every true revolutionary knows we're not against America. We're against the corruption worldwide."
"So why target America, then?"
"America is the most patriotic nation in the world. Which other country displays their flag everywhere? If you want to anger Americans, insulting their national pride is the best method. The imposter tried and it worked. He got on TV! Look at the fifty thousand comments beneath the video...Excuse my French, but he seriously pissed them off!"
"What's the plan?" I asked, nudging his arm. "Some fake videos of our own?"
"Didn't you hear what I said?" He edged away from me. "I am not stooping to their level! I'm not giving them more ammunition against us."
"Calm down," I snapped. "I just asked!"
"A question he'd already answered," Kelendria muttered.
"Stay out of this!" I shouted. "No one's talking to you!"
"Don't talk to her like that," Damon said. "She's defending me, that's all. I'm her uncle for goodness sake!"
"Oh, so now you're her uncle? Before or after she disowned you?"
Damon winced before taking Kelendria's hand and leading her away. She glanced back with a smirk before following her uncle back to the cabin. When they reached the door, Damon ushered her inside before storming off alone. I hurried after him, but Tran grabbed my hand and held me back.
"Give him some time," he said.
"I know him, thank you very much!"
"And now I know you."
When Damon spotted me, he hurried out the back door with his puppy close behind. I didn't care. I wasn't there for him anyway.
I tapped Tran on the shoulder and skimmed over the laptop screen. There was a template email on a copyright violation and a list of the top twenty video and audio websites with ten ticked off.
"No more than twenty?" I asked.
"They're the biggest. Few people see the others."
"Every little helps," I said. "Do more."
"But-"
"I said do more!"
"Um, Miss King?"
A gangly rebel raised his hand. I strolled over and he pointed at the emails on his laptop. I motioned for him to move, so he stood up and I sat down. I scrolled down the list of emails and shrugged.
"What?"
"They're revolutionary emails."
"So?"
"Open one," he said. "They aren't from us."
I opened the email sent early that morning:
Dear Reader,
The rebels are coming for your country! Your people killed us and now you'll pay. America can't hide anymore. We're coming for every one of you. You're either with us or against us. Foreigners with and Americans against. No exceptions will be made.
If you want to join the rebels' cause, please send a cheque addressed to Revolutionary Rebels. Full payment details are available below. Every single cent goes to the good cause. With your help, we'll be ready for the war.
Godspeed,
Damon Janesh
I looked around the room. Now the other nine rebels were waving me over to their computers. I could see new emails popping up on their screens, some with video and pictures attached. I ordered them to close the emails immediately and forward the messages to Tran's account.
"Can you trace them?" I asked him.
"We might have to hack into the email providers. We've got some insiders in there, but they've been dropping off like flies since that video..."
"Email them back."
"But it'll show the account's in use!"
"They already know it's in use. They can log in and see that!" I thumped the keyboard. "Email them back, damn it!"
"Okay, okay...but only if Janesh says so."
"He's not the only one in charge here," I said. "You follow my orders too, you know?"
"Since when?" Damon asked, pushing past me.
I tried to explain myself, but the words refused to leave my throat. I backed away while Damon read through the emails, cursing when he saw his name. He closed the last one and called for everyone's attention.
"They've stepped it up a gear," he said. "Now they're using my name. Remember, this is just a warning to us. Stupid spam emails and videos won't do much, and they know that."
"So what now?" I asked. "Spit it out!"
"Well, Ivory, you should know."
I would have slapped him. I should have slapped him.
"Add the senders to the spam list. Filter further messages, but keep the ones we've got. We will need them as evidence one day."
"Yes, sir!" the sheep said.
"Flag any videos for copyright infringement and make sure they're only added back with mature warnings. No other kids should see those pictures!"
"Yes, sir!"
"That's it?" I said. "For flip's sake, when will we fight back?"
"Remember who's in charge-"
A loud car horn beeped and a red, white and blue truck came tearing up the path. It parked outside the cabin and a bulky woman in dungarees stepped out. She took out the rifle from the backseat and marched over to the door. She walked inside and pushed past me, turning the rifle my way when I complained. Her beady eyes scanned the room before settling on Damon.
"How can I help you, Missus Smith?" he asked.
"Which one of yer bastards did it?" She cocked the gun and aimed at me. "Bet it was yer!"
"Speak English," I said.
Smith pressed the barrel against my forehead and slipped her finger over the trigger. I crossed my arms and yawned.
"You're bluffing," I said, my heart beating slightly faster.
"Fess up," she yelled. "Tired of yer crap!"
"What are you talking about?" Damon asked.
"I did yers a favour lettin' yer stay 'ere! Why'd yer go and do a thing like that?" Her eyes shifted to the jeep and back. "Go lookie see! I brought it with me."
Tran went outside and peered into the back of the truck. He turned round, the colour draining from his face, and came back inside. He raised his hands and stepped closer to Smith, who finger was gently pressing down on the trigger.
"Where did you get that from?" Tran asked.
"Yers put it down there," she spat. "Yers want my land. It's mine, got it? Yers not gettin' it. None of yer!"
"What is it?" Damon asked.
"A bomb," Tran said.
The rebels screamed and ran for the door, but Smith pulled me into the doorway and rested the barrel on my temple. The rebels glanced at each other, no one moving an inch.
"Who put it there?" Smith asked. "Answer me, God damn it!"
"Answer her!" I shouted.
"What does it look like?" Kelendria asked from the back. "The bomb? Can you describe it?"
"Yer know damn well! Fess up!"
Damon pulled over Kelendria and she edged towards Smith and me. She raised her hands when Smith flinched before taking a seat close by.
"Did the bomb have the world map carved into it?" she asked. "Did it have a cross over Europe and Asia?"
"Yep," Smith said. "On America too!"
Kelendria slowly turned to Damon, who crouched down beside her. She cupped her hand and whispered in his ear until Smith fired outside. Everyone ducked and I almost wet myself. Damon was sweating harder than most, his eyes saying, "It's all right."
"No whispering!" Smith barked. "Bit rude, that's all!"
"Sorry," Kelendria said. "I worked over in China before the Asian Blitz. There was a stadium bombing-"
"The athletics!" Smith cried. "Ha ha! Yer country sucked!"
"Yes, well...Anyway, the stadium was blown up using these bombs. They had a similar pattern, but America had a question mark over it."
"So you blew up yer people too?"
"No..."
"Don't sound so sure!"
The little brat was making things worse. Damon had taken some subtle steps forwards and Tran's eyes were fixed to the gun, his hands at the ready. Kelendria fumbled over her words some more as Smith's face turned bright red.
"Stop messin' with me, girl! I trusted yer lot. I could've called the cops."
"And we appreciate your help," Damon said. "Now we need one last favour."
"What's that?"
"Please put down the gun."
I head butted Smith and ducked before the gun clicked. She stumbled backwards, blood trickling from her mouth, and ran outside. We raced after her and yanked her out the driver's seat. She fell to the ground and placed her hands behind her back, sobbing uncontrollably.
Kelendria took the gun and opened the barrel. She spun the chamber, showing the empty holes, and then dumped the gun beside Smith. Smith bawled loudly as the rebels surrounded her.
Then Damon pushed through. He placed his hand on Smith and stroked her hair until she looked up. He wiped the tears from her eyes and offered his hand. She took it. He helped her stand up and brushed the dirt off her clothes.
"Why're yer being nice?" she asked. "I wanted to kill yers."
"Only because you've been misled." Damon handed her the rifle. "We weren't behind the bombings. We wouldn't blow you up, especially not after you helped us."
"Aw, thank yer," she said. "Since yer been nice, I'll give yer another day."
"...Thank you."
Smith hugged Damon and then hopped into her truck. She grinned at me before speeding off down the hill, blaring her horn.
"Thank God!" Kelendria cried. "Let's get back to business, shall we?"
"Load the jeeps," Damon said. "Take the bare necessities. Everything else will be burned."
"But she's gone!" Kelendria looked around at the sullen faces. "We'll talk to her again and-"
"Why did she come with one bullet?" Damon asked.
"Maybe she was bluffing?" Tran said.
"No. If someone planted a bomb where I live, I wouldn't confront fifty people with one bullet...I wouldn't confront them at all. I'd just call the police."
"It was another warning," I said.
"Exactly. They're telling us bombs will help destroy us. "
"They know where we are," Tran said. "How? We use pre-paid phones, cloak our IP addresses, and pay for everything in cash. What more can we do? We're practically invisible!"
"Pack you things and get ready to go." Damon walked around switching off the computers. "We leave now."
"It's pointless, isn't it?" Kelendria said. "It's all just a game to them."
"No, this is a blessing!"
We all looked at Damon as if he'd gone mad.
"They're giving us clues," he said. "All we've got to do is figure out their next move from the information they send. When they strike, we'll be ready."
"What if we get killed?" the blonde girl's mother asked. "I want to fight, but not if we get killed."
Damon looked around the worried faces. He glanced outside at the children chasing each other outside. Then he turned to Kelendria and touched the crow's feet beside her eyes and the creases running across her brow.
"I completely understand," he said. "As of now, this division has been disbanded."
The rebels threw their arms up and shook their heads. They shot the mother angry looks before pushing past her. They pleaded with Damon, so he raised his hand until there was silence.
"She's right," he said. "I won't endanger anymore children. They grow up so fast under such pressure. They have their whole lives ahead of them. If they choose to join when they're older, I'll welcome them back with open arms."
"Where do we go?" a young man asked. "This is my life!"
"Oh, I've waited so long," an elderly woman sobbed. "Don't end it like this!"
"Please, Janesh," Tran said. "Don't give up now."
Damon walked outside and we followed, some in tears. He motioned to the children and they gathered around him. The rebels retrieved everyone from the other cabin and we all sat around the campfire. When the children saw their parents' tears, they wept with them.
"I want you to know this isn't the end," Damon said. "This is just the beginning."
"I don't wanna go home!" a black girl bawled. "My friends are here!"
Damon spread his arms and the girl ran into them. He hugged her tightly, rocking her back and forth. She wept into his shirt, her shoulders violently shaking. Her mother picked her up and carried her back to their spot, whispering soothing words in her ear.
"The bomb shows what they have in store," Damon said. "More people will die. I can feel it. The stadium incident may seem like nothing when they're finished destroying us...When they're finished trying to destroy us."
"Where do we go?" the young man asked. "My life is here!"
"You could go home or go somewhere safe together. When the time is right, stand up and support the revolution. Until then, stay safe and stay alive." Damon looked at me. "I've created a monster. Now I must put it right. It's not fair that all of you endanger yourselves."
I tried to hold his cold stare, but I had to look away.
"Please go your separate ways, so it's harder for them to track you down. But stay in contact. One day I will call upon you, and we will rise again."
"Why not now?" Tran asked.
"There's only fifty here," he replied. "Why not fifty million?"
Tran nodded with a smile.
"I won't say anymore," Damon said. "If you're captured, say all you can. Just get back out. Get away from them. We'll take care of ourselves."
"I'm coming with you," Tran said.
"Thank you."
"Me too!" Kelendria stepped beside her uncle. "You're not leaving me behind."
"I wish I could," he said. "This might be the last chance for a normal life. Whoever wins this war, life won't ever be the same."
"Good. Life has already changed. Let's change it for the better."
"If you want me, I'm in," I said.
"I want you."
Saying goodbye to the campsite was an emotional time, for the others. I was glad to see the back of the place. No more bugs. No more Smith. No more noisy kids running around. Soon it'd be just Damon and me...and the others too.
With the last jeep packed, Damon called everyone around. We bowed our heads and they prayed before hugs and kisses were shared. I stood by the jeep, watching the teary-eyed rebels saying their goodbyes. Damon worked his way through the group, making sure he'd said his last goodbyes to everyone. Then he stopped before me.
"Where's my kiss?" I asked.
He smirked before heading back to the cabin.
From the stairs, we watched the nine jeeps speeding off down the mountain. The children waved from the back window before looking ahead. When the last jeep disappeared amongst the trees, there was a moment of silence before the night animals filled the void.
I slipped my hand into Damon's and squeezed. He stroked my fingers and held on.
"What now?" Tran asked.
Damon let go before the others caught us.
"It's their move now," he said. "The media warned the public. The imposters reinforced our dark side. Now there's only one stage left."
"What's that?" Kelendria asked.
"So-called rebels don't talk the talk unless we walk the walk."
"I don't understand," she said. "How can they prove we're behind everything?"
"No offence, Taylor, but there's so much evidence!" Tran counted on his fingers. "Work contracts you signed. Interviews by your doctor. Character statements from colleagues. Video footage from your office."
"Jennifer said the Chinese were watching!"
"She lied," he said. "The footage went straight to the vice president's office. The bastard was watching you the whole time. He deleted Janesh's file before you could read it."
"More footage for them to edit!" Kelendria shook her head. "Jennifer really had me fooled..."
"You're not the only one," Damon said, glancing at me.
"Oh, let it go..."
Damon insisted on waiting again. I didn't like the idea of waiting around from another message from Reed and co, but we had no choice. With Damon's phone propped up on the desk, we sat around in the dark waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
"I'll check my emails again," Tran said. "Taylor, anything?"
She shook her head, her eyelids drooping.
"King?"
"Well, surely I would’ve mentioned it?" I showed my empty inbox. "Happy?"
"He was just asking," Kelendria mumbled.
"He was just asking me, so why are you getting involved?"
Damon stomped his foot and there was silence. Kelendria swivelled round on the chair and I stood by the window, leaving the men alone.
"When do we leave?" Tran asked.
"When they send the next clue," Damon replied. "We'll stop whatever they have planned. When we have enough evidence, we'll show America the truth."
"What if we can't stop them?"
I glanced back and caught Damon's gaze before he looked away.
"Then we'll try again."
Kelendria's phone bleeped, waking her up. She opened the email and skimmed over it before confusion set in. She shrugged and passed the phone to her uncle. Damon read it aloud: "Their legacy is set in stone."
"Whose legacy?" Tran asked.
"It doesn't say." Damon scrolled down the webpage. "That's it?"
Tran's mobile buzzed. He opened the email and handed the phone to Damon.
"Divided by time," he said.
All eyes fell to my phone. It vibrated, so I tossed it over to Damon. He opened the email and said, "Together for eternity."
"Statues?" Kelendria suggested. "They stand forever, I guess."
"A stone statue?" I chuckled. "Bronze, yes. Stone, no. Mother Nature would wear it away."
"It's a figure of speech!" Kelendria snapped. "For God's sake! It sounds like statues to me!"
"Me too," Damon said. "But which ones and where?"
"Our presidents!" Tran searched online and showed a tourist sightseeing map. "Washington is in New York. Lincoln, Roosevelt, and Jefferson are in Washington DC."
"Good one, Tran," Damon said. "If rebels trash your presidents' statues, it could be the ultimate insult."
"Then we'll stop them!" Kelendria clenched her fists. "Only if we get there first, though."
"One statue each," Damon said. "I'll go see George."
"Off to New York by yourself?" Kelendria shook her head. "No way! It's too dangerous. Security's been tight since 9/11!"
"Everyone's going by themselves. I'll just be in a different state. Choose a president."
Kelendria claimed Roosevelt and Tran chose Jefferson. Tran forwarded me the map, so I highlighted Lincoln on the journey planner.
"Act like a tourist," Damon said. "Take some pictures. Buy some merchandise. Mingle with others. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious. If in doubt, call the others. Better safe than sorry."
"Uncle, who do you call? You'll be across the country!"
"I can take care of myself."
We emptied the cupboards and bins outside and set them alight. The flames warmed our trembling bodies as the nightly chill set in. We sat together on the log, watching the flames dance before us.
"Book our tickets," Damon said. "I want early flights first thing tomorrow morning. Separate planes, of course."
"What about the jeep?" I asked.
"We'll go by public transport."
We each bought our own ticket on different airlines. Minutes later, we got emails confirming our flights. Damon's came last, but he didn't open it. His eyes stared into the litter turning to ash on the fire.
"Stay safe," he said, "and stay alive."
The sightseeing bus parked by the roadside and fifty tourists filed off. Tran stepped off last, keeping an eye on the sightseers chatting away. The driver blew the horn and six security officers emerged from the metallic one-storey building close by.
"Follow us, please," the sole female officer said.
The tourists entered the building, where they were separated into two groups. After a metal detector search, bag scan, and brief interrogation, Tran's group were ushered outside.
A redhead dressed in a pale pink shirt and beige trousers waved from the memorial steps. She hurried down and smiled at everyone before passing around leaflets.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, I'm Cynthia," she said. "Our tour starts with the Thomas Jefferson memorial. The former president was born in..."
Tran eyed up Cynthia. She effortlessly regurgitated most of the president's life before sharing useless trivia no one knew or cared to know. She talked about the Japanese trees surrounding the round memorial, the Tidal Basin reservoir behind it, and cited terrorism and the Blitzes as the reason for tight security.
"Sadly, there'll never be unlimited, unrestricted access to our founding father."
Cynthia led them up the steps and through the Grecian pillars. She stopped at the entrance and waved over two Asian girls with their father. She put her finger to her lips and they copied her.
"We've got be quiet out of respect," she said. "If you want to make some noise, just come outside here with me, okay?"
The girls nodded and rushed inside with their father. Cynthia watched from the door before letting Tran enter. He slowly moved around the bronze statue, looking around for anything planted. Cynthia was watching him, so he took out his phone and took pictures.
"Who's next?"
A young couple hurried inside and read over the inscription behind the president. Tran looked them over, but all they had was a clear bag packed with souvenirs. He turned round and gazed at the president, but watched every tourist entering from the corner of his eye.
Minutes later, the memorial held fifty sightseers. Cynthia made her way to the statue and pointed ahead at the White House before turning their attention to the inscription.
From the back, Tran watched over the group. On the opposite side was a shifty man in grubby clothes. He was holding some bulky item in his pocket, often glancing around the room. When he spotted Tran, both men froze.
Tran stepped forwards and the man ran. Tran chased him through the memorial while people tried to stop them, but the man escaped outside and dashed down the steps. Tran followed him with Cynthia close behind. She whistled at two patrolling officers, who ran after the man. They chased him around the memorial, where six officers were waiting by the road. The man ran back to the reservoir and stood on the edge.
"Don't move," Cynthia said. "Don't make this more difficult than it has to be."
"I didn't do anything!" the man shouted. "Just go away!"
"He's got something in his pocket," Tran said.
The officers pulled out their pistols and aimed at the man. He raised his hands and edged away, his heels over the water. The officers stepped closer, keeping their guns steady.
"I haven't done anything," the man cried. "Just leave me alone!"
Cynthia raised her hand and the guards lowered their guns, their eyes pinned to the man. She slowly walked to him with an open palm.
"Give it to me," she said. "We can all walk out of here."
"I'm dead meat!"
"You will get arrested, but it's better than being killed." She stepped closer to him. "Just give it to me, all right?"
"Take it yourself."
The officers separated, moving either side of the man. They nodded and Cynthia reached into his pocket and pulled out a banner. She unrolled it and spread it on the ground.
"I thought it was a gun," Tran said. "Or a bomb."
"Nope. Just another protester." Cynthia rolled up the banner and tucked it under her arm. "They've been all over Washington since the cuts."
"The government used the Blitzes as an excuse!" The officers handcuffed the man and led him away, so he shouted to the sightseers watching from the memorial. "We won't let them win! Fight back! Get your banner from bash the budget dot com. Free shipping!"
Cynthia straightened out her clothes and smoothed down her hair. She laughed nervously, her face sweaty. She pulled out cue cards from her pocket and skimmed over them before standing up straight with her head raised.
"Let's continue the tour, shall we?" She motioned back to the memorial. "After you."
Kelendria gazed at the decorative waterfall before heading to the president's statue. She chuckled at the Scottish terrier beside him and then looked over the president. Besides a greenish tinge to his formerly bronze exterior, there was nothing out of the ordinary. When the patrol guard looked the other way, she peeked under the president's cloak, but there was only his chair.
"No one's damaged it," she whispered. "Everything looks fine to me."
She moved on to the Four Freedoms wall.
"Freedom from fear...We'll see."
Kelendria turned to the sightseers strolling around the memorial. She focused on the ones near the statue, but after reading its inscription and taking some pictures, they were off to explore.
Her eyelids began to droop, so she decided to walk around. She stopped by the life-sized worn statues queuing outside a black door. She looked at each man, noting the worry lines etched into his face. At the door, she reached out to the handle and squeezed it.
Someone was watching.
Kelendria rubbed down the hairs prickling on her neck. She turned round and saw the security officer watching from the president's statue. He stared a little longer before walking off. Other sightseers appeared, so she hurried back to the statue.
She took out her easel and pencil. The officer glanced down at the blank canvas before strolling away. She put pencil to paper, embarrassed by the squiggly mess she had created. Still, she kept drawing until the statue, or at least her vision of it, was complete.
Someone was watching.
Kelendria shuddered. She spun round but no one was looking her way. Sightseers were taking pictures, people were dipping their hands into the waterfall, a few were crowded by the four freedoms, and the rest were staring at the Great Depression depiction.
But someone was watching.
Her heart pumped faster. The morning chill returned. The sun ducked behind the clouds. She skimmed over the tourists, but everyone's focus was elsewhere...well, everyone except one.
At the entrance was a Muslim woman in red dress. Her face was concealed by her burka, but her eyes were staring straight at Kelendria. The woman made a cutting motion across her neck before scurrying away.
Kelendria rushed after her and soon both women were running. The woman ran down the street and hopped into a dark car with tinted windows. Kelendria reached the vehicle before it pulled away. She banged on the windows, but the driver sped off down the street.
"I think that was...No. It couldn't be."
I loosened the top buttons and pushed my breasts higher. The twins bulged from my tight shirt, yanking every man's attention as I passed by.
Ahead was President Lincoln, but the crowd around him was blocking access. I could've pushed my way through, but why should I? I'm better than that. Instead, I strutted over to the security officer whose eyes had been stalking the twins since my arrival.
"Hello, darling," I said. "I need a favour!"
"Um, madam, I'm working." He removed his dark blue cap, his eyes battling the urge to look down. "Who are you?"
"Brazil's top supermodel, darling!"
I puckered up and planted a wet one on his lips. His cheeks went bright pink and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. I slipped my arm through his, holding him steady. When he came to, I rested my head on his shoulder and stroked the frizzy hair on his hands.
"Let's go inside," I whispered in his ear. "Please, darling?"
The guard ushered me into the security office and pulled up a chair by the coffee machine. He poured two cups and handed me one, which I accidentally spilled. The hot drink burned my legs, so I pulled off my skirt and threw it to the floor.
"That's brand new," I cried. "It cost a month's rent!"
"I, um, know how that feels."
He shifted his groin under the table.
"Can I lock the door?" I rubbed my bare hip against him. "I don't want someone walking in on us."
"Of course!"
I slid his key card through the reader and the green light above the door turned red.
"Thank you." I sat down and propped my legs on his. "Can you massage my feet?"
His rough hands scraped my skin as he performed the worst massage I've ever had. He poked and prodded as he salivated away.
I didn't care anyway.
While he was enjoying himself, I had full view of every camera in the memorial. The ten screens showed the memorial from every possible angle. One shot was from the entrance, where every face was being scanned.
"I think there's something wrong with the video," I said. "Should I check it?"
"No!"
He pushed my legs off and rushed to the video player at the back of the room. He pressed a few buttons and the screens rewound before he switched back to live footage. He shrugged and sat down again, licking his lips.
"I won't be a hot Brazilian supermodel forever," I said, sliding my hands down my hourglass figure. "Every working woman needs a back-up plan."
"Like what?" His eyes were stroking my thighs. "Singing? Dancing? Acting?"
"I want to work in security."
"CCTV? Why?"
"I've got bodyguards and I respect what they do."
"Where are they now?"
"In the limo," I said. "I wanted to be normal for the day."
"I, uh, understand..."
"The thought of protecting people as you do makes me feel all tingly inside." I placed my hand over my breast. "You're a hero!"
"I am? I am!"
"Can you teach me some tricks?" I rested my hand on his leg and squeezed. "I'll share some of mine."
He took a folder from the desk and placed it over his groin.
"We can start with the video player," I said. "That bleeping noise? What does it mean?"
"Just the alarm. When someone gets a full body scan, we might have to check it."
"Did you look over mine?"
He blushed.
"Let me have it," I said. "I mean, let me see it."
The guard took me by the hand and led me over to the video player. He pushed buttons, unscrewed bits and bobs, moved this, replaced that, blah blah blah. Meanwhile, I watched the security footage. Besides cameras flashing away, nothing happened outside.
"What was your name again?" he asked.
"Don't you ever listen?" I dabbed my eyes. "Sometimes I think you ignore me."
He gave me hug, lingering too long for comfort. I gently pulled away and pressed the scanner button. A screen flickered before cutting to a body scan of me standing in a booth.
"You're a fast learner!"
Idiot.
"Can I have another drink?"
He returned to the coffee machine and prepared another cup. When he came back, the scanned image had gone.
"Thank you," I said, taking the cup. "Now I want to see myself on camera."
"You're vain, aren't you?"
I giggled.
Damon sat on the steps in the pouring rain. He pulled the hood tighter over his head and stared down at his shoes. Sightseer after sightseer, busy New Yorkers rushing to wherever, and police officers on patrol. Most of the time, it was just him and Mister Washington.
"Is there a problem?"
Damon sprung up and shook his head.
"No protesting around here," the officer said. "Move it."
The officer waved Damon along, so he walked down the street, glancing back at the statue. The officer was joined by his colleague, who stared hard at Damon until he'd turned the corner.
"Damn it!"
Damon peered round the corner and saw the officers heading his way. He briskly walked around the block until he was back on Wall Street. When the officers turned round, he disappeared into an office building.
"Can I help you, sir?" the receptionist asked.
"Wait a minute, please!"
He took out his mobile and called Kelendria.
"Any news?" he whispered. "You promised to call!"
"I thought I saw someone...Nah! It was nobody."
"No one's tried anything?"
"Nope. Him and the dog are fine."
Next Damon called Tran.
"Nothing at all?" Damon asked. "No graffiti, no guns, no bombs...Nothing?"
"Just another protest incident, but that's normal since the cuts. They use banners, not bombs."
"Heard from Ivory?"
"King's seen video footage and there's been no incidents whatsoever...How's your end?"
"Not a damn thing," he said. "We'll try again tomorrow."
"Maybe we got this wrong?"
Damon opened the emails and slowly re-read every line, again and again and again.
"Their legacy is set in stone. Divided by time. Together for eternity."
He paused on the word stone before looking out the window at Washington's bronze statue. He took out the tourist guide from his pocket and flipped through to Washington's summary, noting his 1799 year of death. Then he turned the page to Lincoln's 1865 year of death. He re-read the email and the last line caught his attention.
"Together?" he cried. "Oh God..."
The reporter rushed up the rocky hill and she pointed straight ahead. The cameraman spun round and stopped over a mountain in the distance, a gaping hole in front. Billowing smoke was rising from inside and blue flashing lights lit up the cliff edge. Paramedics were carting around lifeless bodies on stretchers, quickly loading them into the ambulance vans before they sped off. The police officers hung up yellow tape around the scene and pushed away the few reporters who had dared to move closer. The camera panned across the landscape to the tourists taking pictures from their van as it drove away.
"This morning, Mount Rushmore was attacked by rebels," the reporter said. "Sources say the rebels, led by Damon Janesh, planted bombs on this iconic memorial, which represented over a century of American history. Luckily, one of the bombs failed to go off. The bomb squad were seen transporting the disarmed bomb away from the general public, but tourists have sent us pictures!"
The reporter showed the blurry photograph of a bomb with the world map carved into the exterior, crosses over America, Europe, and Asia. She flipped to the next picture, where armed men dressed in white commando gear were running from the scene. The next picture showed rocks flying across the sky, and the last picture showed a president's broken nose lying on the ground.
Mount Rushmore was the main headline for a week.
Day one was the infamous nose shot. Allegedly it was Roosevelt, but it was so damaged no one knew for certain. Day two was the rim from Washington's glasses, which were quickly joined by Lincoln's beard. Day three focused on the rocks tumbling from the damaged site. Day four showed smoke rising from the burnout shell of the mountain. Day five focused on the so-called bomb squad. Day six was dedicated to Damon Janesh, his face plastered all over the news from morning till nightfall. The media talked about him and Kelendria's dark beginnings, some saying he was the next Bin Laden. Finally, day seven arrived. Every paper featured the American flag flapping away at the peak of Mount Rushmore.
I smirked at Kelendria, who thumped her fist on the paper.
"I was wrong, all right?" she spat.
"I did say they weren't stone." I sipped on my coffee. "No one listened, though."
"Maybe because you can't be trusted," Damon said.
I dumped the coffee cup in the bin and snuggled up under the blanket. They were whispering about me, but I didn't care to eavesdrop. As far as I was concerned, Kelendria had been horribly wrong, and now America hated them.