The Biomass Revolution

Chapter 12: The Betrayal

Lana rushed inside the apartment and hugged Spurious forcefully, knocking the wind out of him.

“Lana!” he huffed. “Are you all right?”

“It was so awful, Spurious. I wanted to tell you at work, but I just couldn’t. Varius was watching me all day.”

“Calm down,” he said, brushing her frizzled hair back around her ears.

“I was so afraid I lost you,” he whispered into her ear.

“It was Varius. He came to my flat and forced his way in.”

Spurious took a step back and caught Lana’s gaze for the first time in days.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked scanning her body for bruises.

Lana shook her head and buried it back in his chest. “He said he wanted to talk, but quickly it turned into more. He touched my leg and told me he had something for me,” she said, holding out a small bracelet.

Spurious stiffened, his face turning bright red. “I’m going to freaking kill him.” he said venomously.

“No, Spurious, I think he is beginning to suspect something. I can’t hold him at bay much longer.”

“It’s going to be all right. I have a plan to end all of this,” he replied.

Lana looked out from behind her curtain of hair, her eyes searching his with curiosity. “What do you mean?” she asked.

Spurious rubbed his eyes. “I’ll tell you in the morning. The past couple days have been a whirlwind and I need to get some rest,” he said, hugging her before crashing onto the mattress.

Spurious gazed at Lana’s sleeping body, watching her eyelids flutter as she slept. He reached over to her, touching her face softly so he wouldn’t wake her. He closed his eyes and tried not to imagine what Lana had encountered the other night, but his thoughts quickly betrayed him, slipping into his mind against his will.

Spurious sat up and rested his back against the wood wall, running his hand through her thick hair. Touching her calmed him, putting him at ease. He sat and watched the shadows from the dying candle flame dance across the ceiling.

An hour of silence passed, reminding him of the countless nights he had laid awake as a child in the same room, wondering why his parents were not home. Now he knew. They were attending secret TDU meetings.

He looked back down at Lana, trying to forget his past for the night and ran his fingers through her hair again, waking her by accident. She let out a soft moan, her eyelids fluttering and her eyes struggling to open. A half smile rushed across his face. “Well hello, beautiful,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she said, her own smile interrupted by a small yawn. “Are you going to stay awake for a while and talk with me?”

Lana sat up, pulling her long hair back and tying it into a ponytail with a small wrist band. “I don’t want to wait until the morning Spurious, I want to know what you are thinking now!” she said, poking him in the stomach.

“Hey,” he laughed playfully before his smile faded and a serious tone washed across his face.

“No more talking,” he said, placing her hands in his and leaning in to kiss her. Her lips met his, the warmth sending a chill down his back. They kissed deeper and he pulled her on top of him, his hand finding its way down her thigh and working its way up. He could feel the blood moving inside of him as his heart beat faster. Her shirt came off easily and he stared at her beautiful skin, leaning in to kiss her neck softly, slowly making his way back to her lips.

“You have gotten good at this,” she laughed.

Spurious smiled. “I’ve had a good teacher.”

“You know that isn’t true.” Lana said, blushing.

He climbed on top of her, looking into her eyes.

“I love you, Lana. And I’m going to make sure nothing happens to us.”

“I love you too. Now come close to me,” she whispered, pulling him onto her.

A small poof from the suffocating candle sent a trail of smoke into the air. Darkness washed over them, sending another chill down his spine. But it wasn’t a chill of passion—it was a chill of fear. The same feeling he had before he lost his parents.

Spurious ignored it and leaned back in to kiss Lana deeply. She would not suffer the same fate as his parents. He would not let that happen.

Leo sat perched against an old light pole, staring into the crowded market. People watching was his job now; he gave up on making a living as a black market smuggler and instead survived off the charity he could manage to squeeze out of people. He was too old for a life of crime. Besides, his age and ragged appearance provided him a unique advantage over the other beggars.

He watched the crowded market, narrowing down his options and paying close attention to a tomato stand attracting several customers. The vendor had arrived minutes before with a fresh harvest, some dirt still present on the skin of the tomatoes.

Leo licked his lips. He hadn’t eaten for a day now, his last meal being a half-loaf of bread an old friend gave him the night before.

Rohania was full of people just like him, waiting for a handout. There was normally a beggar on every corner. In fact, many of the panhandlers worked the same corner every day. People got to know them and most would avoid them. His strategy was different. He had brains; sometimes he waited an hour in a crowded market before approaching a customer or vendor with a sob story. It worked almost every time.

After much deliberation, he selected a young man who was in the process of purchasing two bags of tomatoes. He didn’t recognize this man and was quite positive they had never met. This was step one. Find someone he didn’t know, someone who had never given him food before. Next, he would approach them when their hands were full and they were preoccupied. Finally, he would quickly spout out a story explaining why he was in desperate need of a meal. There were countless stories he had used in the past. His favorite was the CRK narrative; it was something all Rohanians could relate to.

“Sir, do you have a moment?” Leo asked, approaching the man from behind.

The customer turned slightly. “What is it?” the man asked, his gaze falling on Leo’s tattered clothing.

“Sir, the Tin Cans, they took everything. My last credits, my food, everything. I have nothing left. Can you please spare a few tomatoes?”

The man stiffened. He scratched his small nose uncomfortably. “Why did they do that?” he asked curiously.

Leo paused. No one ever asked why. “They… uh… they thought I was a TDU sympathizer. And when they found out I wasn’t one they kept all my belongings anyways,” Leo said, stuttering.

The man raised a brow. “Are you a TDU sympathizer?”

“I’m hungry, sir. That is all. Can you please spare a tomato or two?”

The man looked over Leo’s shoulders into the crowd, clearly growing annoyed.

“I need to get going.”

“Just one tomato, sir, please?” Leo pleaded.

The man let out a huff. “Fine, if you get out of my way you can have a tomato,” he said, grabbing the two bags from the vendor and placing them on the ground. He scanned the produce and grabbed the smallest tomato off the top.

Leo took it graciously. “Thank you sir, thank you,” he said, backing away and disappearing into the crowd with a grin on his face. The ripe tomato exploded as he bit into it, the juices racing down his chin. He brought his hand to his chin, wiping away the excess juice and licking his fingers clean. In the distance he could see an empty park bench, the perfect place to find his next customer.

It was almost noon and the crowd was thicker, common for the lunch hour. People were searching for a quick bite to eat between shifts and looking for a bargain. It was the perfect time to get his next meal.

The cold metal of the park bench sent a chill up his damaged back. His ragged coat was full of holes. It was on his ‘to replace’ list, but a warm coat was hard to come by in Rohania, and he didn’t expect to get his hands on a decent one this winter.

He bit into the tomato again, scanning the crowd for another unsuspecting shopper. In the center of the market there was a bronze statue of a middle-aged man, sitting on a chair and reading a book to a young boy on his lap. Leo didn’t need to see the worn engraving at the bottom to know it read Lincoln and Tad. It was an artifact from the old world, a surviving clue from before the Biomass Wars, when education was an investment and books were valued.

Leo could only vaguely remember his own childhood now. It was so long ago, before the oil wells dried up and the nuclear tipped rockets sailed across the oceans, a time when men marveled in their creations and resources were plentiful for all. But it was simply not to be. Men had become experts at building, producing and manufacturing, but sadly, they were better at destroying these creations.

In the distance he watched a pair of leaves chase each other in a fickle wind. He watched them sail back and forth around the statue. They came to rest on the boot of a hefty man, who paid no attention to the insignificant leaves. He appeared to be in an argument with another man, flailing his hands in the air as they talked.

Leo crept forward, his eyes trained on these two strangers; his curiosity was building like a cat fixating upon its prey. He shoved the remaining bit of tomato in his mouth and stood up to get a better look. Something was different about them—something told him he had seen them before.

They were both dressed in aged thermal jackets, very uncommon for a Rohanian but not incredibly rare. It wasn’t the jackets or their thick scarves, which could be used as dust masks in the Wastelands, that gave them away. It wasn’t even the impression of their pistols inconspicuously hidden in their cargo pants either. It was their boots. Leo never mistook the boots of a TDU soldier. They all wore the same type; black, steel toed, and stained by the dust of the tunnels where the TDU operated.

Leo smiled. In another life he must have been a police officer, he told himself. His detective skills were unrivaled. He chuckled and shook his head in amusement at the two foolish soldiers. Not a week after the attack and they show up in Rohania and they didn’t think to change their boots? No wonder they were losing the war.

Leo recalled what he had read in the Lunia Post. He snagged one of the free copies the State distributed the day after the TDU’s headquarters were reportedly destroyed. He knew better to believe anything in the Post though. It was controlled by the State and their attempt at convincing Rohanians the TDU was gone had failed yet again. It wasn’t the first time they had tried. The State had issued the same propaganda in the past, the headlines reading, “TDU Destroyed.”

Leo cautiously made his way through the dense crowd, chuckling to himself. The fact that the State believed free papers would spread their rhetoric, considering the literacy rate in Rohania wasn’t even 50 percent, was laughable.

“Ah, I remember now, Commander Obi and his loyal comrade Ajax,” Leo muttered under his breath, making his way towards the two soldiers.

He had met the soldiers a few years back when he still worked in the smuggling business. If they were still alive, then there was still hope for the TDU.

“Get out of my way!” yelled a muffled voice Leo knew could only be from the breathing apparatus of a Knight. He turned and saw three Knights racing through the crowd, their assault rifles drawn.

“Move, move, move!” another one of the faceless Knights yelled.

Panic rushed through Leo as he followed the screaming crowd towards any exit from the market, pushing a young girl out of his way.

“Hey!” her mother yelled out in defense.

“Sorry,” was all Leo could muster, before he disappeared back into the crowd.

He turned quickly to look for the Knights. He was gaining ground on them, but he had lost track of Obi and Ajax. If the two were caught the TDU really would be in danger of falling apart. Both soldiers were well known in Rohania, and were heroes in a war which had so far been very one sided. “Shit, where are they?” he cursed under his breath.

Leo pushed forward, his old legs protesting and groaning with every move as he clawed through the patrons. Finally he made his way into an alleyway, the brick buildings passing by in a blur. To his left was Sacred Heart, an abandoned church from the early 21st century. He knew its passages well and slept there many restless nights. To his right was an entrance to the Boondocks, a street the Knights would normally avoid.

I need to make sure they escape, he thought, running past the church and market in hope of catching sight of Obi and Ajax.

He rounded another street corner just as a thick arm reached out and grabbed him by his collar, yanking him clear off his feet and slamming him into the brick wall of a building.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, old man?” his attacker yelled.

Dazed, Leo’s vision slowly came back into focus. The blurriness finally subsided and his eyes fell upon the scruffy chin of Ajax.

A smile instantly raced across Leo’s face.

“I was coming to talk to you!” he exclaimed.

Ajax pounded one of his fists into the brick wall. “You could have led those Tin Cans right to us!” he said.

“I’m sorry, but I can help you. I know things.” Leo pleaded.

Obi stepped towards the old man, pushing Ajax out of the way. “What could you possibly know that could help us?”

A sense of hope glimmered in Leo’s eyes. “I know of someone you two would be very interested in. A man named Spurious who works in the Sector of Government Services. His parents…” Leo paused, his eyes darting back and forth from Ajax to Obi. “His parents were the founders of the TDU!” Leo exclaimed.

Obi shot Ajax a quick glance. “What do you know of this man?” he asked.

“I came across him a few weeks back. He travels to Rohania every couple days to meet with his lover.”

Ajax cut him off. “How do you know these things?”

“I know everything in Rohania and everyone.” Leo said, grinning.

Ajax slammed Leo back into the wall. “I don’t trust him, boss.”

“We don’t have a choice. This Spurious sounds just like the person we’re looking for. If he does work for SGS, he probably knows the tunnel system, and he could help us get access.”

Ajax frowned. “I don’t like this. He’s nothing more than a crazy old man,” Ajax said venomously.

“We have to trust him for now,” Obi responded.

Ajax nodded and let Leo back down, patting the dust off his shoulders.

“Lead the way, old man.” Obi said, following Leo down the dark alleyway.

A powerful rain beat the metal roof of the SGS building. Spurious typed busily on his blue screen. The steady downpour sounded like dancing feet, reminding him of Paulo and his love for salsa.

He frowned and pulled up a new screen of tunnel blueprints, desperately trying to put Lana and Paulo out of his mind. It was of no use; his thoughts would betray him no matter how hard he tried.

He turned to look at Archie and began to consider his options with Lana. There were only two. They could escape to Rohania and try to survive with the help of strangers until they were able to procure secure jobs, or they could leave Tisaia and take their chances in the Wastelands.

Spurious recalled a confidential document he came across years ago. It was a map of several tunnel systems in underground Lunia. There was a sporadic red ‘X’ marked in multiple locations, indicating what he thought were potential TDU hideouts. After digging a bit deeper, Spurious found they weren’t TDU related at all. They were locations State employees were caught trying to escape Tisaia and into the Wastelands. He remembered the shock when the dozens of red splotches finally made sense. There were others out there just like him, longing to escape the monotony of their lives and the State controlling them. Every dot represented someone willing to risk everything to escape.

Archie swam to the top of his bowl, his tiny lips pecking at the fragments of food at the surface. Spurious watched him, wondering if he too felt trapped in his small world. He thought back to his options, neither seeming very realistic.

Leaving Tisaia, even with his knowledge of the tunnel systems, would probably result in another red dot on the map. Except this time, there would be two—one for him and one for Lana, something he wouldn’t let happen.

Rohania, on the other hand seemed more plausible, especially if he could make some contacts there ahead of time.

His stomach growled, reminding him he had skipped lunch.

Maybe I’ll go for a short walk, he thought, turning off his blue screen and heading for the stairs. The stifling concrete staircase was filled with the scent of bleach, recently cleaned by a crew of service workers. As he descended the last few floors and headed for the lobby exit, a voice rang out over the silence. “Hi, Spurious!”

He turned to see Cleoa working from behind the same oval receptionist desk where she had been the day he started at SGS. The only difference was a few more grays in her curtain of hair. Her smile always reminded him of those first few days when he walked through the sea of endless cubicles, meeting rooms, and the cafeteria, all reeking of bleach. It was that first day he realized the building felt like a prison, one in which he would spend the rest of his life.

Spurious waved at Cleoa quickly, eager to escape the building. He pushed the lobby doors open and stepped outside, taking in a long breath of air. Slowly the scent of bleach faded only to be replaced with the fresh aroma of rain. He opened his eyes to see a curtain of sleet falling to the ground. The climatologists were wrong again, forecasting a mostly clear afternoon.

Spurious sighed, heading back into the building with his head tucked in his collar. He passed several other workers on his way to the stairs and entered the hallway, catching a glimpse of Lana out of the corner of his eye. Quickly, he hid behind one of the thick concrete pillars lining the hallway. He glanced around the edge; inconspicuously as possible, his face rubbing against the cool rough surface of the concrete.

Half way down the hall he could see Lana, her head pointed at the ground as Varius yelled at her. Other employees hurried past, ignoring them.

Spurious pulled himself away from the view, resting his back against the pillar, his chest heaving in and out as he tried to catch his breath before heading back to his desk.

This is just too much. I can’t take it anymore. I want to kill him, he thought, slipping back into his cubicle. Tonight he would settle everything with Lana—tonight he would meet her at his old apartment and tell her they were leaving Lunia.

Spurious sat at his wooden desk, nestled next to his lofted bed. On the cherry wood surface sat a blank piece of aging paper, waiting for his pen. For an hour Spurious sat, his right hand supporting his worried head. But the words wouldn’t come. He simply sat staring blankly at the yellow paper.

Through the single window in his flat he watched the weak sun disappear on the horizon, darkness slowly swallowing Tisaia. Finally his thoughts met paper with a swift stroke of his pen.

His pen dropped softly onto the worn surface of the wooden desk, rolling down its surface towards the edge. For what seemed like hours he stared at the note, wondering if it was the right thing to do. He knew if he risked telling Ing in person there was the chance he would be caught. It was a risk he couldn't take.

He shut off his desk lamp and headed for his closet. There was packing to do, and he wasn’t packing just for himself.

Spurious crawled on his belly through the storm drain he used to enter Rohania. In the distance he heard the humming of a Scorpion on a road somewhere above. He froze, pressing his ear against the vibrating concrete wall to listen. There was no way to determine how many Scorpions there were; the tunnel muffled the sound making it impossible to determine their location. For a minute he lay petrified on the cold floor, waiting until the Scorpion patrol passed.

Silence washed over the tunnel, leaving only the sound of a slight wind in the distance. He grabbed his pack and started crawling again, knowing it was too late to head back. Anya would ask questions, and he knew his luck was almost gone, having evaded detection for so long.

The heavy pack made it difficult to crawl. It was filled with items he knew they would need to survive until they found a safe house in Rohania or attempted to cross the Wastelands. It was best they left without warning, and it was even better Lana didn’t know they were leaving until the last minute. He knew they would need more than food, water, and anti-radiation tablets to survive; they would need luck, lots of it.

After a few minutes of struggling through the narrow storm drain, Spurious climbed out in to Rohania. He darted down the narrow alley where he’d first met Leo, and made his way down the dark city streets, clinging to the shadows on his way to his old flat.

The slick streets were mostly empty, save for the random drunk stumbling about. It was eerily quiet. Nothing but the whipping wind and the drip of a clogged roof drain. Spurious stopped in the alleyway connecting to his building, looking at the sparse shapes jetting out of the darkness — the crumbling brick of the hastily constructed buildings, the filthy storm drains clogged with trash. It wasn’t the type of place he wanted to live the rest of his life, but he had no choice. If he wanted to be with Lana he would live anywhere, through anything.

Inside the building, Spurious lit a candle and climbed the creaky stairs to the third floor where he hoped Lana was already waiting for him.

Spurious looked down at his watch. Lana should be here, he thought, twisting the knob to his old flat.

The warm glow of orange candle light welcomed him. In the center of the room Lana sat on a pillow, waiting.

“Good evening,” he whispered.

Lana’s dark eyes glowed in the light and her cheeks flared red with blush. “Hi,” she said, her eyes pointed at her feet.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, setting his pack on the ground. He walked over and sat next to her, leaning down to give her a brief kiss on her forehead. Lana hugged him, almost forcefully.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Spurious stiffened, taking a step back just in time to hear the clanking of armor behind him.

“DON’T MOVE!” a muffled voice screamed behind him.

Spurious grabbed her shoulders softly, chills running through his body. He held her gaze for a second before he felt the butt of a rifle smash into his spine. He screamed in pain and collapsed onto the ground, reaching for his back in agony. His mind was spinning with confusion.

He turned to see his attacker towering above him with a rifle aimed at his head. The Knight’s blue goggles glowed eerily in the sparsely lit room.

“Don’t move. Stay where you are," he said, his booming voice muffled by the breathing apparatus.

“Lana, what have you done?” Spurious yelled, trying to crawl across the floor towards her.

“I said, don’t move!” the Knight yelled, bringing the butt of his gun down on Spurious' right leg.

He screamed again, reaching to calm the fire of pain shooting up his leg.

“Don’t hurt him! Please, you promised you wouldn’t hurt him!” Lana yelled from her hiding spot.

“Take him away,” the Knight said, as another soldier entered the room.

“Lana, what have you done?” Spurious yelled again, crying in agony.

“I’m sorry, Spurious! They captured my family a month ago. I had no choice. They said they would deport us all to the Wastelands!"

The pain of the truth hurt more than the fire spreading through his injured body. She’d set him up. It was planned all along. The bruises on her neck in the courtyard the first night they spoke weren’t from Varius, they were from the Knights. Varius never threatened her. He never showed up at her house. It was the Knights all along. She traded him for her family.

How could I have been so stupid?

The sadness and shock quickly turned to rage. His head shot up, his eyes meeting Lana’s for a split second before she turned away to run out into the other room. He turned again and watched the Knight approach him cautiously, the barrel of his rifle aimed towards Spurious’ head.

“No!” Spurious screamed, jumping to his feet and charging towards him. The Knight took a step back and pointed his rifle at Spurious again.

“I’ll shoot!”

Spurious only made it a few feet before his first attacker threw an armored punch. The metal connected with his head, blood exploding from his mouth as he sailed to the floor.

Spurious lay on the ground, curling up and feebly wiping his mouth clean of blood. He blinked, his eyes burning in pain. He watched the two Knights reaching down to grab him, wondering if he was feeling the same fear his parents did so many years ago when the Knights came for them.

Deep down he knew the Knights would eventually come for him, but he never imagined Lana would lead them there. His head spun, fueling the confusing agony spreading through his mind like a wildfire.

One of the Knights tugged on his shoulder with an iron grip and his mind returned to his attackers, rage boiling inside him.

“Hold still!” the Knight yelled, his armored fingers digging into Spurious’ back.

He blinked again, desperately hoping it was all a dream, but the shattering pain from the armored fist of the Knight was too visceral to be anything but real. He wasn’t stuck in a dream. He was stuck in a nightmare.

“That’s it, that’s the place,” Leo said, pointing at a crumbling brick building.

Obi stared at the torn CRK poster hanging loosely in the cold wind.

“Are you sure this is it?” he asked.

“Damn sure, and I’m willing to bet the man you want is up there right now.”

Ajax, Obi and Leo stood at the edge of the street, peering up at the white stone, half expecting to see a face looking down at them from an old broken window, but there were no windows anymore: the CRK made sure of it.

“Show us the way,” Obi requested.

Leo hustled across the street, his scrawny body hunched over like a praying mantis as he slyly made his way into the alley next to the old apartment building. Ajax and Obi followed cautiously, their hands gripping weapons hidden within the confines of their large coats. They were both aware of the possibility of an ambush, something Obi always prepared for.

As the small group made their way into the building, they picked up the faint sound of voices muffled by the thick wood of the buildings walls. Leo stole a glance at Obi, who stood positioned in the exit door of the hallway, his rifle drawn.

“It’s the room half way down the hall on the third floor,” Leo whispered. “I need to leave now, there isn’t anything else I can help you with,” he continued apologetically.

Ajax grabbed Leo’s skinny right arm and pulled him towards the hallway wall, glancing back at Obi.

“Let him go,” Obi said.

Reluctantly Ajax obeyed, scowling at Leo before releasing him.

A scream broke through the silence, prompting Ajax and Obi to point their weapons up the dark staircase simultaneously.

“Get out your night vision,” Obi whispered.

Both soldiers reached into their coats and pulled out their goggles. A cool orange glow warmed the staircase and the two quietly made their way towards the sound.

Another scream rang out above them. Obi halted, changing his night vision to infrared. He wanted to pick up heat signatures so he knew how many people they were dealing with.

“You go in first and I’ll follow; if Spurious is in there with Lana, be careful. I don’t want either of them harmed.” Obi said, nearing the top of the staircase.

“What do we do with her?” Ajax whispered.

“Not sure, just move.”

The two soldiers crept down the hall slowly like hunters, trying to tiptoe over the creaky wood floor. At the end of the passage, underneath one of the doors, a blue glow flowed into the hallway.

“Stop, Ajax.”

“What’s wrong boss?” he whispered.

“Tin Cans. Ahead. I can see the glow from their night vision goggles.”

Obi removed his glasses and knelt, reaching for his knife in a sleeve on his right leg. Ajax hunched down next to him, resting his massive frame against an apartment door. They knelt and strained to hear the conversation coming from down the hall.

“Sounds like someone got to this Spurious before us," Obi said.

“What are you thinking?” Ajax asked.

“We need him. If the Tin Cans want him, then he is obviously valuable.”

Ajax groaned heavily. "I don't like this. We’re gambling with our lives."

Obi checked his clip and put his goggles back on. He was picking up at least four, maybe five heat signatures in the room. With only their pistols, they were going to need some more fire power to take out two or three Knights.

The ringing of heavy footsteps shattered the silence. Quickly Ajax followed Obi into an open apartment, hiding in the shadows. They waited, their chests both heaving in and out their eyes watching the blue glow of a Knight’s goggles flooding the hallway.

Ajax pulled out his knife, revealing it to Obi with a single finger over his mouth. They waited patiently for the light to pass before Ajax peeked into the hallway to confirm the presence of another Knight. The man stood guard at the doorway where Spurious was being interrogated, his armored back facing the hallway.

"He has his back to us. We can get out now," Ajax said, turning.

"Can you take him from behind?" Obi entreated.

"Are you fucking kidding me, boss? There is an entire squad of them in there. It’s suicide."

Obi shot him an angry glance, his orange goggles staring back at him. "You take out the guard, grab his gun, and we’ll kill the other Knights together,” he paused to take in a deep breath. “That's an order, soldier!" Obi hissed.

He pulled a new clip of armor piercing rounds from the bowels of his jacket. They were custom made, tipped with plutonium. The last of their kind, and he had been saving them for a special occasion.

"And make sure Spurious isn't harmed, or his girlfriend, if she’s in there too," he said, inserting the clip into his pistol with a click.

Ajax nodded, clicking off his goggles to examine the hallway one more time before he slyly slipped into the darkness. He crouched, heading towards the guard with his knife drawn.

A minute passed and Obi watched anxiously from behind, waiting for Ajax to make his move. The Knight remained frozen, standing in the entryway of the room, no idea he was about to die.

Ajax stopped less than a yard away from the guard, bringing his knife inches away from the unsuspecting Knight’s armor. He aimed it at the gap between the neck armor and helmet. With a quick jab, he jammed the sharp blade into the back of his neck. Ajax barely flinched, indifferent to the spurt of blood that exploded onto his face. He had the guard’s rifle within seconds, shoving the Knight who clawed vainly at his neck. Obi rushed into the room, his gun spitting hot lead at the other two Knights, who were attempting to drag Spurious’ body out of a bedroom.

The barrage of bullets from Ajax’s assault rifle went high, tearing into the wall, and sending a shower of splinters into the air. Both Knights fumbled with their weapons, but it was too late, Obi's armor piercing rounds ripped through their armor. 30 seconds later it was over. All three Knights lay in pools of their own blood. Ajax checked their vitals, firing a single shot into their goggles to ensure they were dead.

In the center of the room, Spurious lay curled up in a fetal position, moaning in pain.

"Check him!" Obi shouted, rushing over to Lana, who was huddled in the corner.

He pulled the drape of hair out of her face, revealing a frightened set of eyes.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

She rocked back and forth, her knees pulled up to her chest and her wild eyes locked on her feet. She was catatonic, in shock from the gun fire.

"We need to move, boss!" Ajax yelled from across the room. "Reinforcements could be here any minute!"

"How is Spurious?”

"He’s hurt, bad. We need to get him out of here fast."

Obi glanced down at the girl with concern in his eyes, knowing he shouldn’t be wasting time on her. "Are you okay?"

She stared back at him blankly. Her eyes were clouded with fear and she was slipping into shock. Obi left her and ran over to help Ajax who was bending down to pick up Spurious.

"Help me get him on my shoulders."

Obi snagged one of the dead Knight’s rifles on his way, throwing the strap around his shoulder.

The two soldiers rushed out of the room, just as one of the dead Knight’s radios blared to life.

“This is Delta Base. Report. Over.”

“Friede, what’s your status? Do you have the package?”

“Shit. Let’s go!” Obi yelled, turning one last time to check on Lana. Miraculously, she was standing in the corner staring back at them. “Well, are you coming or what?” he screamed at her. She froze and then reluctantly walked over to Ajax, placing her hand on Spurious’ unconscious head.

“Boss, we aren’t taking her with, are we?” Ajax asked scornfully.

The radio blared back to life again. “Friede, we’re sending another squad to your location. ETA five minutes. Over.”

A chill ran down Obi’s back as he locked eyes with Ajax. No words needed to be exchanged. The two soldiers knew each other well enough to know it was time to move. Within seconds of the radio transmission they were running down the hallway, Spurious’ head bobbing up and down on Ajax’s shoulders.

“We need to find a different exit. This could be another trap.” Obi yelled over the clamor of their footsteps. He could see the bottom of the staircase in the distance, a diminutive yet guiding glow of moonlight illuminating the first floor hallway. He entered cautiously, his rifle drawn. There were no signs of a trap through the door they entered, but he didn’t want to risk it.

“That way,” Obi motioned with a nod of his head. He stood guard at the door, his rifle aimed into darkness while Ajax carried Spurious down the hallway, Lana close behind.

Obi took off to catch up with them and seconds later they were at the end of the hallway staring at a sealed door, closed off with several two by fours.

“Damn, it’s a dead end!” Ajax yelled.

Obi glanced back down the hallway, scanning it for an open apartment door. Every door appeared to be sealed with two by fours as well. “Shit, the reinforcements are going to be here any minute,” he said.

“Help me,” Ajax said, lowering Spurious carefully onto the ground.

The two soldiers clawed at the two by fours, tearing them off quickly while Lana attended to Spurious.

“Where am I?” Spurious moaned. He peered up at Lana, blinking through the fog of stars, his brain still on fire. “Lana, was it a dream?” he asked, her face finally coming into focus.

“Oh Spurious,” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry. The Knights caught me a few months ago. They said if I didn’t help them find traitors, they would have my family deported.”

Spurious rubbed the bloody gash on his head, staring at Lana in shock. “So this was all a lie?” he asked disdainfully.

“No my feelings were real. They are real. I love you,” she whispered, placing his hands in hers.

Spurious pulled away, scooting to rest his back against the wall.

“I can never trust you again,” he said.

“Keep it down!” Ajax exclaimed, looking down at him while he plucked another two by four off the door.

“Who the hell are they?” Spurious asked Lana.

“We’re with the TDU. That’s all I have time to tell you. Now help us get these off,” Obi whispered down to him.

Spurious froze. It was the first time he had ever seen one of the rebels in person. He studied the two men as they continued to pry off the two by fours. Finally he realized this is what his parents had lived like, in constant fear. And now he was trapped in the same building they were killed, betrayed by the woman he loved.

Shocked into motion he rose to his feet, a deep pain racing up his leg. Anger gripped him, filling his body with adrenaline.

“There, stop them!” a muffled voice yelled down the hallway.

The group turned simultaneously to see a glowing set of blue orb-like eyes entering the dark hallway.

“Watch out,” Ajax yelled, taking a step back and kicking the door handle, sending chunks of wood splinters in all directions.

“Go!” he yelled, turning to fire at the approaching soldiers.

The hallway erupted into chaos, the Knights returning fire. Pieces of wood and plaster rained down on Spurious. He covered his ears and huddled against the wall.

“Come with me,” Obi yelled grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the doorway while firing his pistol at the Knights with his free hand.

“Get them out of here, boss!” Ajax yelled, finishing off another clip at the two Knights. He watched three of his rounds tear through the chest plate on one soldier, blood splattering onto the wall behind him. The second Knight wavered for only a moment, glancing down at his fallen comrade before returning fire.

Spurious watched Lana helplessly as Obi continuing to drag him towards the door. “Lana hurry! Run!” Spurious screamed.

She stood, hesitating before she took off towards the doorway. Spurious’ eyes followed her, watching the bullets tear into the floor and walls around her.

And then everything slowed. The pain in Spurious’ leg and head subsided. He watched fire erupt from Obi’s pistol, blank cartridges raining down on him as the bullets zipped towards the Knight. His eyes panned to Lana who was still running for him, now only a few steps away.

She is going to make it, he thought, watching one of Obi’s bullets hit the Knight in the kneecap.

Spurious could hear the man’s muffled scream over the gunfire. He watched the man slowly collapse to the ground, his weapon firing wildly.

His eyes darted back to Lana, who was reaching out for him, her beautiful brown hair flowing behind her. Their eyes locked and Spurious pulled free of Obi’s grip to reach out for her, just as two bullets tore through her stomach. Her eyes burned with terror as she fell, blood splattering onto Spurious’ shirt. She landed in his arms just as Obi finished off the last Knight, a round piercing his goggles and burying deep into his skull.

“No!” Spurious screamed, carefully turning Lana onto her back. She looked up at him, blood gurgling in her throat. She tried to speak, but Spurious put his fingers to her mouth.

“No, you’re going to be okay,” he lied, his eyes quickly panning down to her mortal wounds.

She reached for his face, her fingers smearing warm blood on his skin. “I’m…” She paused, choking on her own blood. “I’m sorry, Spurious.”

He watched the life draining from her deep brown eyes, her last breath escaping from her mouth.

“No, Lana. You can’t die! Lana. Lana. Lana!” he screamed, shaking her fruitlessly.

“You have to leave her,” a voice said from behind him. He felt a strong grip shaking his shoulder. Spurious ignored it, whimpering, tears flowing down his face while he rocked her head back and forth in his lap.

Ajax and Obi towered above, looking down helplessly. “There could be more Tin Cans coming,” Ajax said, looking over at Obi.

“I know. We need to move, but we have to give him a second.”

Obi hesitated, watching Spurious hold Lana’s head tightly to his chest. He saw the anguish and grief, a flashback from the past taking hold of him. The image of his father holding his dying mother crawled into his mind, an image he had long since blocked from his memory.

“Let’s go,” Obi said, quickly shaking the image from his mind. He motioned to Ajax with a nod, and instantly, the giant soldier grabbed Spurious and pulled him screaming towards the door. Obi stopped to close Lana’s eyelids before following Ajax into the darkness.

Spurious awoke to the rancid smell of raw sewage, coughing the pungent stench out of his lungs. His hand shot to his throbbing forehead, where a deep gash oozed blood onto his fingers. He felt a stab of horror.

Was it a dream?

“He’s coming to, boss,” said a voice from behind him.

Spurious tried to sit up, gritting his teeth, his eyes blinking as they adjusted to the darkness.

“Stay calm. We aren’t going to hurt you,” another voice said, from the corner.

“Where am I? Who are you? Where is Lana?” Spurious said, turning from side to side, desperate to see the faces belonging to the voices. “LANA!” he screamed, before anyone could silence him.

“God damn it! You have to be quiet,” one of the men said, placing their hands over his mouth.

He struggled for a few minutes before calming, his eyes coming to rest on the two soldiers who had rescued him earlier.

“Are you going to be quiet?” the larger man asked.

Spurious nodded slowly. The man removed his hand cautiously from his lips. He sat up and scooted a few paces back, coming to rest against the concrete wall.

“I’m Obi,” the older man said, cracking the most sincere smile he could manage. “This here is Ajax,” he said, pointing at the other soldier, who didn’t bother to smile.

Spurious studied the two soldiers. “She’s dead, isn’t she?” he choked.

Obi nodded. “I’m sorry. There wasn’t anything we could do.”

“She betrayed me.” Spurious said quietly. “I was going to leave Lunia with her.”

“It’s better you lost her now then, there is no life for State workers outside the walls,” Ajax said, with a snort.

Spurious wiped a tear from his eye, scanning his surroundings. He took another gasp of the rancid air and coughed.

“We need to get moving,” Obi said.

Spurious stiffened. “Wait, what? Where are we going?”

Obi lit a cigarette as he waded through the knee deep sewage. “We don’t have time to explain, but soon we’ll tell you everything.”

Spurious hesitated, forgetting momentarily about Lana. There was something about Obi that convinced Spurious to trust him; maybe it was the conviction in his voice, the sincerity in his gaze or the fact that Obi had rescued him. Whatever it was, Spurious knew he had little choice but to follow the two soldiers.

“Will I get a chance to fight the CRK?” Spurious asked, a hint of strength present in his voice.

Through the darkness, Spurious could see a smile finally crack on Ajax’s face. “You’ll have a chance to fight them, likely sooner than you think,” he replied.

Obi watched Ajax and Spurious wade through the muck. He took one last drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke into the cold night air and watching it disappear into the swirling brown sewage below.

A weak moon broke out of the thick clouds, providing just enough light to make out the junkyard below. Nathar sat perched on the rooftop of the abandoned building in which they had taken refuge in days before, staring into the darkness.

“What do you see?” Creo asked.

Nathar swung around, annoyed. “Nothing yet. I’m not picking up any heat signatures.” It was the second time Creo had asked him in as many minutes, and Nathar was getting tired of sitting on his ass and keeping watch.

“Do you want to trade me spots?” Nathar asked.

Creo stood, putting a hand on Nathar’s shoulder. “No, I’ll check on the new recruits. Let me know if you see anything.”

“Will do,” Nathar said. He turned to scan the shadows below. The work was part of his job as a scout with Squad 19. Over the years he had spent as much time silently watching as he had sleeping. It simply came with the territory, but tonight he was anxious. The minutes passed by like hours.

He listened to the sounds of the night and watched the shadows dance through the antique junkyard. Obi and Ajax still hadn’t shown up and Nathar was beginning to worry.

And he didn’t like to worry. It was unnecessary, getting all worked up over something he couldn’t control. There was no shortage of things to worry about, with the TDU having suffered such extreme losses, but Nathar normally didn’t let these things affect him.

He reminded himself he was a scout, part of Squad 19—the most revered unit in the TDU, feared by the Royal Knights and known throughout Tisaia. Members of the squad didn’t worry. They did what they had to do to get things done.

A sudden flash of yellow light broke through the darkness opposite his position and disappeared into the sky. He turned quickly, zooming in with his night vision goggles, but there was only darkness. There were no heat signatures or signs of life.

A few seconds passed and the same golden light shot out again. It was too quick to be a signaling unit, but then again Obi and Ajax probably didn’t have one to begin with. Whatever it was, someone was trying to get his attention. His instinct was to signal back, but something didn’t feel right.

For a long moment he sat there scanning the landscape below, jumping as a cold hand grabbed his shoulder. He twisted, startled to see Creo staring down at the junkyard.

“I saw it.”

“There,” Nathar whispered, his right hand pointing at a pair of smashed trucks piled against a concrete barrier about 100 yards from their position.

“Three heat signatures behind the trucks.” Creo whispered again.

“Should I signal? It has to be them.”

Creo nodded again. “Send out the signal.”

Nathar reached into his pocket and grabbed a small device from his pack. He clicked it on and a laser shot into the sky, visible only to those who had goggles designed to pick it up. It was a nifty device, one he had stolen from a patrol of Knights a few years back. The TDU engineers retrofitted it so the laser could only be picked up by Squad 19’s night vision goggles.

Within seconds three figures emerged, slowly making their way towards Nathar’s location.

Creo took aim with his sniper rifle, cautious of a potential trap, but lowered it as Nathar smiled. They watched the familiar shape of Ajax emerge from the shadows. Thrilled to see their comrades safe, the two climbed down the ladder and jumped onto the dirt below, a cloud of invisible dust rising into the darkness.

“Damn good to see you, brother,” Nathar said, embracing the large man with a quick hug.

“Holy shit, you smell like a damn latrine!” Nathar said, laughing.

Ajax shrugged, “Not the first time and won’t be the last.”

“Who is this?” Creo interrupted, motioning towards Spurious. The moonlight broke through a cloud and illuminated his swollen face and clothing, lurid with blood stains.

“This is Spurious. He works for SGS. His work focuses primarily on the tunnels. And he is the key we’ve been waiting for,” Obi said, cracking a sly smile.

Spurious turned, a confused look on his bruised face.

Obi patted him on the back reassuringly. “Don’t worry. There’s plenty of time to fill you in, Spurious. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

Obi went over the plan in his head. It sounded crazy, even to him, but he knew it might be their only chance at taking out the CRK’s headquarters and, if they had the chance, the Capitol building as well. If this happened Obi was sure the commoners, immigrants and other State workers would rise to the cause, toppling the government.

Obi smiled coyly in the darkness. He had led his men to and from Tisaia many times, but never did he imagine he would be in a situation like this. Their headquarters had been destroyed, their commanders killed, and as far as he knew, he was the highest ranking TDU soldier left. This meant his life expectancy just dropped dramatically.

No one lives forever.

He laughed at the cliché, stopping to look over at what was, as far as he knew, all that was left of the TDU. He took a moment to scan the four new recruits: all young men, no older than 30, dressed in raggedy clothing and equipped with antique assault rifles.

Obi shook his head. He tried to suppress the anger he felt, but after seeing so much death it was difficult. Nonetheless he continued on, weaving around the charred skeletons of old cars and trucks. In the distance a few structures jutted out of broken landscape. He stopped, motioning for the squad to do the same.

Not two hundred yards away sat two structures, their roofs long gone from the torturous wind. He watched an old sign creaking eerily in the wind, the lettering barely visible in the moonlight. 7Eleven, the sign read. Obi instantly recognized it, recalling the chain of gas stations from his youth. He could still remember hanging out in the parking lot after classes as a boy. Years before the bombs dropped.

“Watch my six,” Obi whispered to Ajax, taking off in a sprint towards the structures. He knew it was unlikely there would be any stragglers or raiders this close to the Tisaian walls, but he hadn’t lived this long by taking unnecessary risks.

Silently he propped himself up against the outside of the building and peered in one of the broken windows. “Empty,” he whispered under his breath.

He flashed a quick hand signal and the squad joined him. “Everyone take five,” he whispered.

They only had about three more miles to go before they reached the rendezvous, but with only an hour of darkness left, he knew time was running out. He wanted to avoid getting caught in the light, even though he knew the chance of crossing paths with any raiders at this hour was slim.

The squad trudged on cautiously down the old highway. Suddenly, Obi halted, balling his hands into a fist. He could vaguely make out the skeletons of what was once a lush forest of trees. He had been here before, years ago on a scavenging mission. From his recollection of the area he knew the silo was not far.

Obi massaged the whiskers growing on his face, trying to fight off the drowsiness. He squinted again and caught sight of the barbed wired fence surrounding the old silo. His night vision wasn’t picking up any heat signatures. He craned his neck to get a better look at a mound of dirt in the center of the compound. With the naked eye it looked like nothing more than a burial site. But he knew underneath was a door—and under that door was a ladder extending hundreds of feet into the bunker of a silo. He knew because he had been the scout to cover it with dirt years before.

“What do you think, boss?” Ajax whispered from behind.

“Follow me, we are here,” he said, heading towards the silhouette of the building.

Spurious awoke from a terrible dream. It took a while for his eyes to adjust and for reality to set in. As soon as he saw the other soldiers he remembered. He remembered it all; Lana, the firefight, the march through the Wastelands, meeting the other TDU members and John. It didn’t take long before the horror slowly began to rise within him, a knot forming deep in his stomach. He lurched forward.

“Boss, he’s awake,” Ajax yelled from the corner of the small room.

Spurious sat up, his hand rubbing the lump on his face.

“I hope you slept well, because we have a lot of work to do. Take a few minutes to get your wits and then follow me to the table,” Obi said.

Spurious tried to listen, but his thoughts turned to Lana. He shook his head, hoping the act would stop the thoughts from penetrating his mind. But all it did was make his head throb more. He was hungry for air, needing it like a starving animal.

Obi and Ajax veered out of his way as he made his way for the door. He glanced at John and the other TDU members, who sat around a large table in the adjacent room. The door swung open and a brief flare of sunlight hit him in the eyes, bringing him to his knees. “Lana,” he whimpered, his hands shielding his eyes from the rare sunlight.

The world began to spin, pulling him into a trance. He choked and vomit exploded from his mouth before he collapsed to the dusty ground.

An hour had passed and Obi began to worry. He watched Juliana apply a warm rag to Spurious’ forehead as he lay staring at the ceiling blankly.

It was just as Obi had feared. The death of Lana had taken over his mind, and his grief was too much to handle.

“Damn, boss, what are we going to do? He looks like a zombie.” Ajax asked.

Obi didn’t respond. He sat in the corner of the room watching Spurious. He knew if he didn’t snap out of it soon they were going to have to leave him. The silo wouldn’t be safe for more than a few days. And in this state, he was going to be a travel liability.

“Screw it, we don’t have time for this,” Obi said under his breath. He dragged his chair across the room and positioned it next to Spurious’ bed.

“Spurious…” Obi paused, glancing over at Juliana and motioning for her to take a break. She smiled before retreating to the table with the others.

He leaned over Spurious and continued. “What I’m about to tell you, I have never told anyone.”

Obi shot a quick look over his shoulder to make sure none of his men were listening.

“The other night, when I saw you holding Lana, I had a flashback. It was a memory I haven’t had for years. Something I blocked because it hurt too much. When I was a child, my mother was shot by raiders. She died in my father’s arms, just like I watched Lana die in yours.”

Obi coughed and massaged his whiskers again, thinking of what to say next. “When I saw your anguish, your grief, I remembered why I joined the TDU. I did it, I think, for the same reasons your parents helped form it—for all of those people who can’t fight themselves; for the immigrants, the Rohanian’s, and the survivors dwelling beyond the walls.”

Silence filled the room and Obi watched Spurious for a reaction, any reaction, but the young man continued to stare at the ceiling.

“Spurious, we need you. We need you to help free Tisaia and restore the dream it was formed on, the dream of freedom. I know we’re asking a lot. But last night you asked me something. Do you remember what it was?”

Obi didn’t realize it, but Spurious was listening to him—listening to his voice; the soft, almost fragile tone caressing his eardrums, helping relieve some of his fear.

Spurious stirred, his eyes darting over to Obi and catching his gaze. “I remember,” he said, abruptly.

Obi stiffened, shocked at the spontaneous reaction.

“What do you need me to do?” Spurious asked quietly.

Obi scratched his whiskers again, silence washing over the room. He didn’t dare turn to the others now that Spurious was acknowledging him.

“We need your expertise on the tunnels. Specifically, we need you to help us review some maps. And…” Obi paused. “We need you to get us access to the tunnels beneath the CRK headquarters.”

“How am I supposed to give you access?” Spurious asked. Anya would have already reported him to the CRK and a team of Knights would be tearing his flat apart.

Spurious forgot about his AI and apartment as a hand tugged on his shoulder. “We know you have had extensive access to maps of the tunnels under Tisaia. Obviously, we’re interested in these maps, especially those of the tunnels connecting to the catacombs under the CRK headquarters. Your SGS clearance should give you admission to these tunnels. Even if it has been revoked we can reprogram the card, plant our explosives and escape.”

Spurious closed his eyes.

So this is what Leo meant.

“Once the CRK headquarters has been destroyed, the Governor will not be able to prevent an uprising. Tisaia will rise to our cause. I can assure you, Rohania is full of TDU supporters and there are hundreds of them in Lunia as well. We’ll then focus our attack on the guards at the immigrant camps. Behind those barbed wire fences lays an army waiting for this opportunity, and has been for a while,” Obi said, pausing to catch his breath.

Spurious gazed up at Obi’s face. Scars lined the man’s aged skin. Dark circles rimmed his eyes. He looked broken, signs of a soldier fighting for far too long, but something in his face was also trustworthy. Maybe it was his kind eyes, or perhaps his convincing voice. There was also the silver cross he wore around his neck. It was the same shape of the cross Spurious had bought from the antique store in the East Village a few years back. Which meant Obi was a religious man, in a world where it had all but been forgotten. This intrigued Spurious. Whatever it was about the man, he trusted him and knew his parents would want him to help the plan succeed.

This was the life chosen for me.