Caped (Book 1): The Burdens of Fate (36 page)

Julius’ kicking, punching, and grabbing, become
continually weaker and therefore easier for Laurie to ignore. Many seconds
later and it’s little more than slight muscle twitches which soon fade to
nothing.

Laurie releases his grip and watches as the
flow of lava carries the body off under the rock and back into the bowels of
the earth. He stands up, shaking bits of the hot muck from his hands.

"This radio still workin'?" says
Laurie, a bit exhausted as the signs of his age begin to show again.

"Yeah, Laurie, I hear you. Barely
though," responds Ivan.

"Good, I could sure use a ride home, and
an icy-hot," he pauses to think. "On second thought, just the
ice."

"Hang tight," he responds. "It
may be a while until we get to you."

"That's fine," he says with a light
hearted laugh. "Just don't forget the ice."

A bright burst of white followed by a soft glow
shines on Laurie from behind. He turns to face it but is paralyzed with a white
electrical energy.

"No, Laurie. None shall look upon the face
of god and live." There is a devilish smile carved onto Nena's face
stretching from ear to ear. She couldn't be more proud of herself; the others
watch in silence, equally as delighted with that they've accomplished. They
bask in the moment, their taste of victory, before vanishing within same white
burst of light that signaled their arrival.

Back in New
York, or what remains of it; Thomas has staggered
over to Alvin who's laying unconscious with only the slightest hint of life
left to him.

"Michael, are you still alive?" says,
Thomas.

"Yeah, barely." He responds, winded
and coughing, "The bastard just cut and ran; I'm headed back now. What the
hell just happened?"

"I got my ass kicked, Alvin too."

"Alvin?! Is he..."

"He's breathing, but he needs medical
attent..."

A quick and panicked scream cuts though the
earpiece, followed by stark silence.

"Michael? …Michael?!" shouts Thomas.

Moments later a blinding flood of stark white
light floods the area, followed by a strong rapidly increasing wind that abruptly
ends. Bodies fall from the sky, Laurie, Prisca, Kaylie, and Michael. They're
all covered in tiny white arcs of electricity causing them excruciating amounts
pain. They are trapped, unable to move, and barely able to breathe.

Five people drift down from the sky and onto
the vague remains of an intersection. My old acquaintance Joe, an old man, a
young man about Nena's age, a woman looking roughly my age, and Nena. The two
women framing the three men in the center. The women are short, and the men are
tall. All with emerald green eyes and brown hair. Dressed in stark white robes
and embroidered with elaborate golden designs.

The other woman, petite and dark-skinned, holds
a swirling multi-layered metal ball, the same one from that secluded room with the
eerie voice. From it emanates the same fierce light that signaled their
arrival.

Nena speaks in a voice with such command it
were as if the earth itself took notice, "It is said that there shall come
a day when even your heroes fail you, when the sky drips red with the blood of
justice and the land no longer bear men of good nature."

She smirks, amused by their plight, "Fear
for your lives, mortals. Your new gods are here."

The restrictive field around those of the
ground vanishes leading to an array of relief and cries of pain.

"Behold," says the older woman. The
spherical object within her hands glows brighter with every passing moment,
vibrating erratically and creating an audible bass tone. The city rumbles and
shakes in much the same manner as when the walls of reality fluctuated and,
like a video on rewind, the city began to slowly pull itself back together.
Every crack in every brick, every spec of rubble and every microscopic grain of
pulverized concrete finding its way back from where it came. Bodies rolling and
shifting about as their tombs vanished around them, and leaving them, the
thousands of souls too stubborn to evacuate, littering the streets.

Iron beams reformed, glass reconstituted
itself. Every imperfection, regardless of size or depth, healed. Entire avenues
of buildings reassembled themselves to a pristine and flawless state, and New York City stood
before them anew.

But the woman isn't unaffected. Her skin is now
spotted with dark abstract markings and, although she does well to hide her
growing weakness, Thomas is smart enough to take note.

"We are the immortal beings of creation
and destruction," proclaims Nena in a godly voice. "Today we give so
that tomorrow we may take away."

They begin to ascend back into the sky.

But Thomas is unmoved; he sees the weariness in
their eyes, the unnatural black patches covering their skin. They are weak and
he is eager to exploit that.

"What happens now, huh?!" he goads.
"The gods descend from Olympus, subdue
the little trouble makers, fix their mess, and then disappear? Not that simple.
Not buying it. You want us dead? Then kill us!”

He persists, “Did you come before me to make me
quiver in my boots? I refuse! Do you demand my subjugation? I refuse! What it
is the purpose, the reasoning; why here, why now?”

“For fear?" he laughs. "How petty.
Admit you lack the power! Here we are, lying defeated before you, and yet we
live!"

"You
live
for our amusement,
nothing more," Nena voices in a dismissive tone. "There is no hope
for your cause, you've known this from the beginning; why else would that
desperate man journey so far into the past?”

Nena smirks, “Did you think we didn't know? We
do, all too well. But there are no mistakes from him to correct. You are on a fool’s
errand. And you, just as he has, will fail."

"Cowards!" Thomas yells in bitter
frustration.

He finally reaches the end of Nena's patience,
and she commands the other woman with a suggestive glance to
handle
the annoyance.

There is a slight hesitation to her command but
the woman soon turns and hurls the glowing sphere towards Thomas. He is fast
enough to form a magical protective barrier yet it still manages to pass
through without much resistance, pinning him to the ground in a similar web of
electrical energy.

"Thomas!" screams Laurie, the only
one able to muster enough strength to move, lifting himself off the ground and
rushing to help him.

The sphere illuminates briefly with an energy
that seems to be pulled from the ground and detonates in a violent eruption of
energy. Laurie is blown back, sent tumbling along the ground.

The sphere flies up through the smoke and
returns to the woman’s hand where she grabs it from bent knees. She hangs over
coughing profusely with darker pitch-black patches forming on her skin and
around her eyes. She screams out in frustrated anger and pain while the others
watch apathetically.

They ascend and vanish into the same portal of
stark white light from which they arrived, apathetic to the suffering they’ve
inflicted on countless millions.

Chapter
Eleven

This Bitter Earth

–
Monday, June 14th
–

Laurie Stahl
-

How do I begin explain this? None of the words
I write seem descriptive enough to accurately portray the heartbreaking
farewell I've just had with two of my newest friends. Every word fails to
convey the worth of their memory. They deserve better than what we're able to
give them. They deserve life… to live and be happy.

I was there. We all were; sitting in the middle
of that same wooded clearing that seems perfect for so many gatherings. A gray
ceiling of clouds shifting in the light of noon hung over the sea of black
chairs filled with those of us trapped on this damned island, and paying our
last respects to Edward and Thomas. Two brave men who gave everything of
themselves for us.

Who wouldn't be proud to say they've befriended
such men? I'm honored to be able to say I have, while still surrounded by those
who are willing to continue their struggle.

Closed casket funerals, I've been to too many in
my lifetime. If any parent is unfortunate enough to bury their child, and thank
God I've escaped such a fate, they should have more than a picture to say their
farewell's to. In the end, no glorious display of flowers, or film lengthy
tribute, can compensate for placing your hands on flesh of your flesh. Looking
upon them resting peacefully and giving them to the earth.

All things considered, I couldn't think of a
more suitable farewell; parents, siblings, and friends, each gave their own
testimonials. There were even a few laughs to be had but, as expected, far more
tears.

After the ceremony we marched down to the beach
as Michael carried the caskets along with us. We lined along the beach, in the
sand and along the grass, as those closest said a final farewell, placing
flowers and trinkets they wished to bestow before we set them off into the sea.
Ivan placed two gold coins for the ferryman on each of them; and Edward's
parents, a blue teddy bear his aunt had bought for him the day he was born.
Thomas' parents, a basket of fruit from a tree he'd planted as a child.

We stood on the beach in silence and watched
the caskets drift closer towards the horizon until we could no longer see them.
It was too much sadness for my old heart. I didn't stay too long but offered
what little condolences I could before leaving.

Cycles of life, I guess. One day they'll have
one of those for me, I can only hope I leave such an honorable legacy. These
moments remind people how fragile our lives are, and through such tragedy
blossoms hope.

Hours after the tears, speeches, and friendly
conversations had over delicious food, came the Yin to the funeral’s Yang. The
holy matrimony a blind man could have seen coming. As such events often cause
people to rush to make official the commitments they've made.

A beautiful close-knit ceremony held for the
bride, groom, their family and friends, on the same beach we were just saying
our goodbye’s on the day before. Despite how far into the afternoon the
ceremony started the sun was still half enveloped over the horizon,
awe-strikingly large; bathing us in the wonderfully soothing colors of dawn and
symbolizing the birth of their new union.

White, peach, and rich red ribbons were
streamed over the area, the separate colors steadily coming together to
emphasize the joining of two families. Wrapped tightly around stiff poles and
loosely twirling above to the apex of a design clearly imitating a cathedral
and giving attention to the main focal point, the pearly white gazebo speckled
with gorgeous diamonds and rubies they spoke their vows under.

This was the most calm and reflective I'd seen
Michael in a long time, until they kissed that is. Then, like an actor dropping
out of character, he immediately went back to his carefree self. Twisting and
whirling around the gazebo as they embraced each other. They laughed and danced
a bit before he swept her up into his arms and flew lap after lap around the
island shouting for joy, it was the type of lighthearted playfulness that made
us all smile. Made us forget about our worries as we watched two people so deep
in love just enjoy being in love.

What more can we ask for in life, to love and
be loved in return, right? A purpose we're content with. Fighting a meaningful
struggle with copious amounts of friends and laughter. It's hard to have a bad
time at a wedding, they’re a reminder of the greatest things life has to offer
us: Relationships, both romantic and otherwise. And leaves us hopeful for all
the opportunities life provides, at least that's what I take away.

My only fear is that we don't have too many
moments like those left. I feel we've only passed the dusk of our tribulations,
with an ominous darkness approaching; and yet, feeling this, I already sense
myself anxious for the light of dawn.

–
6/15
–

Prisca Amin
-

I'm not done crying, I don't think I'll ever
be. We're losing so badly. Dealing with death has never been my strong point,
especially not those close to me. Ed and Thomas weren't the closest of friends
but, dammit, we entered into this together, right? Edward and Alvin saved my
life; I owe every happy moment, every smile, every sunrise and sunset to them.
And now one is dead and the other... I just don't know. Maybe he'll wake up,
maybe he won’t. We don't know what's wrong but he could fix this somehow. He's
fast enough to fix the world.

So until we figure it out, we're stuck here.
There's no way in hell I'm going home, nobody is. Not at this point. Could you
blame us? There isn't a government on earth that doesn't know every minute detail
about us, and most importantly, we made them all look like fools. Helpless to
protect the empires they've built and secured. We've emptied their most
valuable data bases and can release their darkest secrets. There’s a price on
our heads so high you could form your own country with just a days worth of
interest.

Government officials began showing up and
carting people off in those ominous black vans before the first shot was fired,
Carter confirmed this. Our friends, relatives, co-workers, and classmates.
Everyone. If they aren't stuck here with us they're going through hell right
now. I wish I could tell them how sorry I am, apologize for it all. Help in
some way. I'm sure they're scared and confused, I know I would be. And yet, all
the people who mattered are already here on the island. Trapped with us.
Afraid, confused, and angry. I don't know what to do anymore. We're alone up
here, the only upside is this place is big enough to give everyone room to
breathe.

I've never wanted to be one to blame the media
for downright hiding the truth, but they aren't doing a damn thing to show us
in a positive light. Not one mention of how we helped, just how we "
betrayed
the world.
" Speculation that we planned L.A., Chicago, and kidnapped
all those children. Outright lies!

So, I guess the final word does come from big
brother after all. They used us to cover up their failure, it's disgusting. No
respect, just preying on peoples fear. Karma is a sly bitch, and she'll fuck us
all.

It's hard to believe we let so many people
down. People keep telling me how much we helped, and that we should be proud of
what we accomplished. I agree, but no amount of humility can take the pain
away.

We are the heroes, we should have been showered
with medals, not had our reputations dragged through the mud. And none of us,
not one, should be hiding on this goddamn island.

So, the pictures have flooded the internet,
some so graphic I can't bring myself to look at them, not anymore. And through
it all, the sickening propaganda of our countryman's valiant efforts to stop,
who, of all people? Us!
It's
disgusting fear porn that
reeks of our failure.

Firing off into the sky, huddling behind
burning tanks and fallen buildings like some damn Hollywood spectacle. I refuse
to accept this. It's trash, not journalism. Give these people the truth! We're
at war with people far more prepared than us and they're winning.

Michael's gone out a few times, but after a
close call near Washington
he resigned himself to watching the television. But as a whole, I think most
people understand this isn't normal, not that much can be considered
"normal" these days. I think they can feel something more devious at
work here, and sense this is more than pointless hatred and destruction.

We'll grow stronger because of this, I'm sure.
And it helps to remind ourselves that we're doing this for a greater purpose,
and that as long as humanity continues then we still have yet to fail. But our
fear has become their fear, and we are losing.

The onslaught has begun, and when it started I
knew I wasn't ready for whatever was next. None of us were.

Leadership and structure are essential to the
proliferation of society, perhaps not in small groups, but as a whole.
Globally, we need structure, even if they're just idle characters. Knowing
someone is at the helm, however useless, provides us with a degree of comfort;
with someone to blame.

That comfort is no more.

The sirens were the first indication, seemingly
louder and more obnoxious than normal, yet in reality no more so than normal. A
fury of cop cars flooding through the streets like stampeding wildebeests. From
DC to LA, countless blaring noises screaming along under quiet skies that only
the clouds, the moon, and stars were left to occupy.

Of course we were among those blamed, but
nobody had the answers; and the media, well, the media went into an
unprecedented uproar.

Monarchs, dictators, and presidents; entire
presidential cabinets, parliaments, congresses, supreme courts, governors, and
prominent mayors. Everyone from everywhere, gone. The spinal column of the
world has been broken. The foundations of society, crippled.

The initial broadcast came through with such
urgency that every single speaker and monitor on the island went active. The
fear that surged through me was overwhelming, my mind searched for a grip on
the situation, but it was too much for me.

I didn't move, I don't think I could have if
I'd wanted to. But I knew that the world was never going back to the way it
was, this was the final straw. That world has been lost to us. Our fight to
save it is over.

And yet we still have hope. Why? Well...

Kaylie Horn
-

Holy
hell, we just found a message from Otep... I think.

___________________________

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