The Collective (26 page)

Reaper and The Beast dead, as well as many of the gang
members, the Scorpions had begun their retreat. A small group of Warden’s army
followed until the gang was out of range. The rebels left alive had no rest.
They were tasked with rounding up the last of Distor’s guards and completely
securing the Water Facility. Time was of the essence. There was no telling when
Xonox would send the next wave. 

As they neared the building, Warden finally spoke.

“In his life, he fought to stay out of the angel of death’s
shadow. In his death, we shall remember how he lived and sacrificed himself for
the greater cause. Let our solemn words be the death song of the lost as they
died as heroes going home. Their lives were not in vain Abel.”

Abel looked at Warden, wondering if all the lives lost
today were worth what they had gained. “He said he was a soldier. He will be
honored as a friend.”

“He will.” Warden assured. “Well done Abel.”

“Thanks. But it’s not over yet.” Abel said realizing they
still needed to clear the Facility.

A familiar voice came from the side of the group. “Actually
it is.” Tommie explained.

“What? How?” Abel asked.

Keera answered instead. “Once the guards realized Distor
was dead the smart ones started surrendering.”

“Yeah, even have a few guards that want to join with you,
help you run the Facility.” The rogue suggested.

“You trust them?” Abel wondered aloud. “I mean, can we
trust them?’

“I don’t trust nobody.” Tommie reminded him.

“I think we can.” Keera said. “I know some of these
families they were just looking for a better life.”

“Do they know we’re going to be under constant alert for
attack and the battle is far from over?” Abel asked. “The Collective won’t let
us just take there greatest resource. They’ll find some way to get it back.”

Warden interjected. “That’s why we have to stay on the
offensive. I want to personally meet every woman and man that wants to stay at
the Facility. I will assess their worth.”

“You mean, we.” Abel was not going to take a backseat to
Warden. He had shown his mettle in battle.

Warden surveyed all the bodies on the ground.  His
inner-circle was in shambles. He could see Brot rounding up Distor’s guards
with a rugged woman by his his side. It was time to rebuild, he thought.
“You’re right Abel, we. You have proven yourself this day.”

Abel nodded in agreement. He knew that Warden was in no
position to resist his terms.

“Abel, let me talk to you.” Tommie grabbed Abel’s arm.

       “Sure.
What is it?” Abel was not sure what Tommie wanted. The man worked hard to be
unpredictable.

Tommie pulled Abel to the side and eyed the gold plated
pistol holstered around his waist. “Let me see that pistol.”

“This?” Abel pulled the gun from his holster and handed it
to Tommie with the barrel facing out.

“Man. This here is a fine weapon.” Tommie whistled.
“Where’d you get it?”

“Took it off Distor’s cold body.” Abel spat the man’s name.

“Oh, right.” Tommie looked at Abel knowing the significance
of the weapon.

“Let me see that holster too.” Abel unbuckled the holster
and held it out to Tommie. It took Abel a minute to figure out where Tommie was
heading, but now he was sure. Abel stood silently.

“Remember what we discussed at Warden’s compound?” Tommie
said as he wrapped the holster around his waist.

“We discussed a lot of things.” Abel feigned ignorance.

“The most important thing.” The rogue said, putting the gun
in the holster.

The silence between them lingered for a moment. Abel
thought to say something, try to tell Tommie the importance of the weapon used
to kill his father. Maybe Tommie would bargain for something else. But he knew
better.

“I remember.”

“This will do. Going to fetch a nice price on the Black
Market.” Tommie pulled the weapon out and fondled it again. He turned and began
walking towards the trees. Abel was still stunned by the transaction, but
managed to call out to Tommie as he neared the edge of the foliage.

“Tommie, where you going?” Abel said.

“Into the woods to do a little scouting. I’ll be back.
Don’t wait up though.” Tommie replied.

With that last sentence Tommie disappeared into the woods.
Just then Keera walked up and grabbed Abel’s hand, holding it tightly. “Hey,
don’t look so sad. I’m still here.”

“I know, it’s just…we have a lot of work to do to secure
this Facility.” Abel stated.

Keera knew the real issue, but focused on the task at hand.
“With you and Warden, I know we’ll find others and we’ll protect it.”

“I know you’re right. It’ll all work out.” Abel was not so
concerned about keeping the prize they had gained, as he was about pressing the
attack against Xonox. They turned to look on the wreckage around them. There
was a lot to be done in the next few days. They needed to salvage supplies from
the slain and the vehicles, close the gates, repair the wall and prepare for
another raid. They would be on the defensive this time. If they were lucky they
could stand against another assault. Then they would go on the offensive. Abel
narrowed his eyes as the cold thoughts of revenge sent chills through his body.

EPILOGUE

Weeks had passed since the rebels took control of the Water
Facility. The uprising was said to be organized by three people; a warlord
mercenary; a rogue who once worked as Xonox personal guard; and a third person
who remained a mystery but was said to have remarkable skills in battle. It had
to be true as they had infiltrated a compound with well over four-hundred armed
guards, destroyed a water convoy protected by one of his best Captains, killed
the Scorpion gang leader and Distor was believed to be dead. The Mountie had
reported all that transpired. He had wanted to join the battle, but Xonox had
stopped the mercenary. He had lost too much in one day to lose his most loyal
and fierce executioner. Upon Xonox’s orders The Mountie had withdrawn with much
coercion, but not before being promised another battle to satiate his appetite.
Xonox sat up in the chair in his study watching the monitor and madness ensuing
in the city streets. Friend against friend, brothers fighting sisters, guards
killing one another in cold blood over water. Xonox found it fascinating to
watch the breakdown of society into its most base animalistic nature. The city
had literally run dry in a matter of days with no new deliveries from the Water
Facility. Xonox attempted to secure the water distribution again, but the
rebels were too well prepared, destroying the bulk of his two-hundred militia.
It was seen as a rare miscalculation on Xonox’s part. With the water supply
dwindling he should have helped the guards to secure the city. That was the
whispers coming from the lower ranking officials within the House of Vancrew.
Suddenly, there was an eruption. Even on the seventieth level, Xonox could feel
the building rumbling. His door opened with a start.

Dante spoke frantically. “Sir, there you are.”

“What is the meaning of this intrusion Dante?” Xonox voiced
his displeasure. “I specifically asked to be left to my thoughts today. Are you
becoming deaf or am I becoming too nice in my old age as my orders are not
heeded?”

Dante continued unfazed by Xonox’s threats. “Sir, the
rebels are in the building and they are advancing on this floor.”

“What? Impossible!” The First of the House stated with
impunity.

“It must have been some coordinated attack.” Dante
explained. “I’m sure they are being helped by some of the House guards.”

Xonox was surprised by the bold assault. “They would dare
turn against the First of Vancrew? I’ll see their bodies lashed and dragged
through the streets.”

“I don’t doubt it sir.” Dante said, his voice providing no
reassurance to his master’s proclamation. “But for now we need to move. Your
helicopter is prepared and waiting on the roof heli-pad. Your personal guards
will escort us.”

“Now?” Xonox looked down at his silk robe. “Like this?”

Dante looked at the monitor as it showed rebels advancing
on the fiftieth floor. Xonox followed his eyes and was visibly startled at how
quickly the rebels were taking each floor. Maybe Dante was right, but Xonox
refused to show any fear or a need to rush his escape. “I see your point
Dante.”

Xonox began to move across the room with more intent than
normal.  Dante ushered him through the doorway, down the hall and to his
private elevator.  Dante briefed Xonox on the way to the helicopter pad. “You
have everything you need in the helicopter. You can change on the way. I’ve
already sent a convoy ahead with your most personal belongings.”

“Very well, Dante.” Xonox smiled. “You are always aware of
what I need. I trust you have Pheona’s belongings as well?”

Dante was silent. Xonox repeated the question as the
elevator opened up. The guards stepped from the elevator connecting with the
guards already waiting. They created a procession across the bridge to the
helicopter with its wings already spinning.

Dante stammered through his words. “Sir…Sir there was no
time. Pheona…she was on the lower levels. We could not reach her.”

Xonox grabbed Dante by the shoulders of his suit and threw
him against the outside of the elevator. “Is she dead?”

“No sir. But…the rebels probably have her.” Dante answered
fearfully.

“Then we need to go back for her.” Xonox turned to his
Captain of the guards. “I want you to take as many as you can to Pheona’s last
location and bring her to me.”

Before the Captain could answer shots rang out from the
stairwell sixty-feet from the elevator.  Dante moved to shield Xonox catching a
bullet in the back. The Captain stepped forward and was shot, his orders turned
into gibberish. One of the guards moved forward pushing Xonox low to the ground
and firing back at the rebels, many of whom wore the same uniforms, double
‘XX’s’ across their breast. Xonox was hurried to the waiting helicopter as his
elite guards fought valiantly to hold back the rebel charge. From the height of
the chopper, Xonox could see the last of his personal guards being overrun as
the rebels lifted their weapons cheering. He turned away from the window and
for the first time in many years had an emotional thought of someone other than
himself. What had they done with Pheona? He clinched his fist and swore he
would get his daughter back or kill those rebel dogs in the process.

The helicopter was in the air for a few minutes before
Xonox realized they were not headed to Croman’s home. The collapse of a House
protocol under the Collective regulations stated the head of the House would
seek refuge with the House above him, lest his pursuers find him at a weaker
House and topple it. Xonox laughed to himself. When he, Mordal and Croman had
written those rules, it was with the lesser families in mind. He never dreamed
he would be a victim of a fallen House.  Xonox leaned towards the pilot. “Where
are we heading?”

“Northeast sir.” The pilot said mechanically.

“What’s our final destination?” Xonox asked again a little
perturbed.

The pilot seemed puzzled but answered anyway. “The House of
Saran, the First of Firsts is expecting you sir.”

Xonox reclined in his seat. It was not what he expected,
but maybe this was the best move for him. With Mordal’s protection and resources
he could get Pheona back, more importantly he would get back what he lost.

The helicopter landed on one of the many landing pads and
was greeted by armed guards.  They were in all red suits with black boots and
helmets, the black “YM” on their chests. The symbol always reminded Xonox of a
martini glass in the middle of an inverted table. Mordal’s guards gripped their
weapons as if they were ready for an enemy, not the acceptance of the third of
the Collective. Xonox waited for the propeller to die down, and then he stepped
from the helicopter with seven of his militia in tow, not including the pilot.
All his escorts were unarmed. If a problem did present itself, Xonox was in no
position to fight so he opted for his guards to leave their weapons behind.
Xonox stopped at the edge of the bridge connecting the landing pad to the
receiving area. He noticed Mordal’s sentries tensing as he continued his
approach. Appearing from a dark hallway he saw two men step forward in unison.
No doubt Mordal’s sons. They bowed to Xonox and he returned the gesture. They
stepped to either side of the path, taking their place in front of the guards,
but not telling anyone to lower or holster their weapons. The minutes dragged
on as Xonox stood facing the dark opening, waiting with as much patience as he
could muster. Finally a figure appeared from the shadow of the opening, his
long silk red robe dragging on the ground. The lining was trimmed with gold, as
were his cloth shoes. Two dignitaries were on either side of him, dressed in
impeccable suits. They were followed by fourteen guards, with no helmets, a
handgun and a sword hung from either side of their waists. These were Mordal’s
elite guards. As he approached, all of Mordal’s guards near Xonox fell to one
knee. They spoke in unison as their eyes stayed affixed on the ground.