C A S E U LT R A
THE QUIET WARS SAGA
ISSUE
7
he bottoms of their feet hurt and the weight of their packs
T
gave a continual pain they
both had learned to ignore. Traveling for days across the emptiness of the country had left more than their bodies sore. Their spirit had been tested countless times as they witnessed the resulting horrors that came from being so close to the epicenter of the world’s torment. The Merchants of Chaos had killed many of their original group and they were all that was left. When the rally cry came from General Lobos they answered but they never expected to make it to
the base alive — but they did. They could see a light shining through the side of the mountain hideout and the two rebels cautiously made their way to the entrance. At first they expected to see the entire rebel army about to march out and thought themselves lucky to have made it just in time to fight but as they got closer to the light they knew something felt wrong. Blood splattered the base like a Jackson Pollock painting. Bodies of both Rebels and the Merchants of Chaos were scattered everywhere. They’d been dead some time but the lights had stayed on, illuminating the battle like it was some demented broadway show. In the center of it all was a damaged, old teddy bear that had been cut open, the knife used to cut it pinning it to the wall.
A note was attached to the bear. It read, “If we want your opinion we’ll give it to you.” The taller one of the two rebels held the note in his shaking hands and looked to his friend for answers. “They can’t have killed ‘em all. That note’s just for scaring guys like us off,” he replied. “Well they did a hell of a job, I’ll tell you that! What the hell are we supposed to do now? This was our headquarters, our last remaining base, and for all we know everyone manning this mousetrap has been caught or killed.” The shorter of the two men half-listened while he stared off into the darkening of the approaching night and caught the last glimmers of the sun setting over the distant hill tops. He turned to his friend and stared into his skeptical eyes. “We
ain’t all caught or killed.” He spat on the floor. “These bastards drugged all our kids with shit like ritalin so they couldn’t be kids, they poisoned our water so men couldn’t be men and turned human beings into animals, but I’ll tell you goddamn it, I ain’t no animal, I’m a man and a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do and if that means me and you gotta go fight this whole damn war by ourselves then that’s what we’re gonna do.” He reached down to a body near him and touched it. He looked at his finger, now red with blood. “There ain’t no way life is gonna be wiped out. This ain’t all the people in the world. We got friends out there somewhere and we’ll find them or die trying. If we sit and cry we’re dead already. What do you say? Let’s get this show on the road.”
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