Chapter 23 - When It Hits the Fan
By SportsMaster
Landon Blacken carefully put on the weathered hat, making sure that it covered as much hair as it possibly could. He went to the closet and pulled out a black, leather jacket, and took the sporty sunglasses out of the pocket. Putting both garments on, he walked outside, and down the street. He looked around and the rubble of what was once buildings in lower Actonia. Sighing, he turned up another street, and continued on his way.
“Cille said that the reason we all lost was because we were so spread out, too many people over too great a stretch of land. That can’t happen. Not while I am here. We will unite as one, and we will defeat Ozzal. She’ll never know what hit her. We’ll work in the shadows and in the open, and in the end, she will lose. I won’t let the one useful thing Matrix ever built that didn’t involve tentacles go to waste,” he thought, smiling as he stopped in front of his destination.
With supreme confidence he opened the door to the Café de Lune and walked in. There were only a few people there, and nobody at the counter. Landon briskly walked to the counter and rang the bell. No sooner had he lifted his hand did a Frenchman covered in flour emerge from the back. Before he even could greet him, Landon gave him a folded piece of paper, and walked back out the door, making sure that he wasn’t followed as he started phase two.
Hikki Follet could just stand there for a second.
“What a strange man” he thought, before remembering the paper that was placed in his hand. He carefully unfolded it, and nearly fell over from shock.
My name is Landon Blacken, I am sure that you have heard of me from Cille. She told me that you are the current leader of the syndicate. I am back to lead this group to victory. All will be explained tonight at nine. Tell anyone and everyone in-or sympathetic to-the syndicate.
Hikki turned the paper over a few times, hoping to find a signature, but to no avail. Having become concerned with the Frenchman’s absence, Samson walked up to the counter where he found him starting intensely at a small piece of paper.
“What is that?” Samson asked, hoping for a glance.
“Oh Sammie, zis eez ze most shocking zhing I have evar read!” Hikki said breathlessly, “I feel faint!”
With this Hikki threw himself in the direction of Samson, hoping to be caught by his muscular arms, and then tenderly helped up. Instead Samson took a step back and Hikki hit the floor with a dull thud. Scrambling to his feet and still holding the note Hikki opened his mouth to complain, but Samson snatched the note from his hand. Samson eyes flew across the scrawl, and he motioned Hikki to follow him to the back.
“Is this for real Hikki?”
“I suppoze so…” the baker responded, looking out the window.
“So what do we do next?”
“Zat’s no longer up to us Sammie.”
-----------------------
“I still don’t get any of this” Eric Ominae said, pacing the room, not taking his eyes off future Cille.
“It’s not hard Eric,” Cille said impatiently “I had to die in the past to change the series of events that lead to Ozzal’s victory.”
“But…if you had to die why didn’t you die earlier? Did Spice have to be your killer?”
“I don’t know, what I do know is that I had to be killed by Ozzal, and I was. I’m not going to press my luck by asking too much more.”
“This is way too much, I need to go outside or something, or I’m going to pass out”
“…Will you be there tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Good, make sure you’re not late, you know how Landon gets.”
With that Eric jogged down the stairs and strode into the darkening skies of Actonia. The giant clock, the only thing still recognizable in this area read 6:15. With rain clouds threatening Eric with a wet walk home, he turned down a dark alley and continued walking.
After what seemed to be mere minutes Eric passed by an open garage, and no sooner did he lay eyes on the tricycle in there did rain begin pelting his body. He walked under the roof of the garage and sat down next to the tricycle. Smiling he ran his fingers over the cool metal body. Suddenly memories of his childhood flooded his brain. He could see himself riding a tricycle that his father got him for his third birthday, his mother standing alongside him taking pictures, even though little Eric’s feet could barely reach the petals, yet along push them in a circle.
Memories of the accident followed. Eric hung his head. People told him not to hold a grudge, but how could he not? It was a normal day, the Colts were playing in the Land of the Stars and Stripes, and legendary running back Jerome Bettis fumbled the ball away, all kicked Mike Vanderjackt had to do was nail the field goal, and the Colts were movin’ on. Eric and his dad were hi-fiving on the couch and watched the ball with great intensity. Shockingly, the ball went wide, and the Colts lost. Eric’s father was crushed, he couldn’t believe that alcoholic jackass missed the kick. Standing up Eric’s father looked up and screamed to the heavens “CURSE YOU VANDERJACKT!”
Then, it all went wrong. A tricycle being transported to a needy kid in Niger fell out of a cargo plane, landing on top of Eric’s father, the speed of the impact killed him instantly. Eric remembered his wavering voice.
“Father…father?” Eric said, trying to shake awake the middle aged man, whose skull was bashed in.
“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” Eric cried out.
At the funeral many people laughed, including his mother, and Eric swore that one day, he would beat that drunk of a kicker to death with the same tricycle that struck his father down.
Shuffling to his feet Eric looked down at the tricycle and ran his hand along the handgrips, stopping at the shiny bell. With a smirk Eric clutched the tiny bell, and then pulled the little lever towards him with his thumb. That’s when Eric realized what had happened.
-----------------------
A tremendous boom shook the very foundation of the church. Priestess Nafah clutched at the candlestick on the alter, making sure it would not tip over and start a fire. She had grown used to that sound, something exploded, and something big.
“What was that?” a bewildered Jake Thompson asked, stumbling down the stairs.
“I don’t know.” Nafah lied.
“I should go take a look.” Jake said, walking down the aisle towards the giant wooden doors.
“Don’t, it is too dangerous out there, and you’re not yet rested. Go back to bed Jake, please.”
“No, I’ve spent too long here. I have got to get moving, Ozzal is looking for me, and I don’t want to get anyone else hurt because of me.”
Silence followed, Nafah studied the young man. He must have been in and out of consciousness for a solid week now. He seemed to have regained his strength, but Nafah was concerned for his safety, Ozzal would certainly want him back, and once he was captured, there would be no way for him to escape again. He had to use extreme caution. It was then she remembered the package that arrived a few days ago.
“At least take this with you” she said, handing Jake a small brown package, poorly wrapped, and covered in scotch tape.
“What is it?” Jake asked, turning the package over, looking for an edge to open.
“I have no idea, I just found it sitting outside one day, and I figured it is for you.”
Jake carefully tore away at the tape, and then the brown paper, inside a little glass cross tumbled out, and with a smaller piece of paper fixed to it with a rubber band. Jake picked up the cross, and slid the rubber band off, unfolding the paper and walking towards the candle to read the faded ink.
“Seeking to forget makes exile all the longer; the secret of redemption lies in remembrance”
“What does this mean?” Jake asked looking confused at Nafah.
She smiled “I think you know what that means. Now go, and be careful. Don’t forget Jake, Ozzal will not let you fall through her fingers.”
“Thank you, for everything” Jake said, and with that he opened the oak doors, and walked out into the night.
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“YES YES YES! Take that you dirty Actonite! Let the score read Shipon Kaaba 1, emo Actionites ZERO!”
Kaaba danced around the fireball that was once a garage, it was all too easy. The tricycle bomb was one of the most effective ways to kill an enemy, and she was a master of it. Even if that stranger had a running start, the shrapnel would have surely killed him. She skipped forward, wanting a closer look at her handiwork.
The fire was burning intensely, which drew another round of gloating.
“See? See? I AM THE BEST EVAR!” Kaaba cackled dancing around “Nobody can defeat-“
A loud bang cut her off. Kaaba looked puzzled at the aluminum trash can lid that landed just inches from her feet. She picked it up, and immediately dropped it. It was red hot. Slowly she put together the pieces and felt her jaw drop in horror. There was no way that fool could have survived, he was at ground zero, and it should be raining parts of his body. She looked again at the fireball and staggered back. Looking to her right she saw blood trickling out of a freshly-made bullet wound. Looking back towards the wreckage she saw a bloodied and heavily burned Eric Ominae stumbling forward, gun drawn.
“I should thank you for leaving that trashcan there, without it; I would have been a goner.” Eric said with a sly smile on his face.
“NO FAIR! NO FAIR! NO FAIR!” Kaaba screamed “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO DIE! THIS IS MY UNIVERSE AND YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO EXPLODE INTO A MILLION PIECES!”
“Sorry, I guess you’ll have to deal with a change in the plotline” Eric said squeezing off another round.
Kaaba slumped forward, and then facedown, a small pool of blood was rapidly forming. Eric coughed and staggered around the corner. His body felt heavy and numb, he dropped his gun, and was about to fall down when a mysterious figure caught him and propped him up.
“Peyton is that you?” Eric said, half out of his mind
“Who is that?” the young man said bewildered, nearly dropping him.
“Oh Peyton, I knew you would save me. Even if you play in the Land of the Stars and Stripes, you knew you had to save your biggest Actonian fan.” Eric slurred, head drooping.
“What the hell are you babbling about? I just came here because I saw the fire, and I thought someone was hurt, and I was right.”
Jake took a good look at Eric. He was heavily burned and bleeding a lot. Luckily, Jake was able to stop the bleeding, but he still needed to get somewhere where this guy could be helped. Unfortunately nothing was here but rubble and brick. He would have to head into the town if he were to find anyone.
“The meeting, at the café, Landon’s going to be so pissed off” Eric said before slumping forward, unconscious.
Jake sighed and picked up Eric, slinging him over his shoulder. Jake had only seen one café in the entire town, and he figured that this stranger might have a friend there that can help him or something. Jake set off towards the café, as he heard the church bells strike nine.
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Michelle Ozzal tossed a bag of pastrami over her shoulder, some sausage and burger buns soon followed.
“WHERE ARE MY TAQUITOS!” she raged, “I AM THE EMPRESS OF A FREAKIN’ COUNTRY AND I CAN’T GET MY TAQUITOS!”
Hearing this Matrix hurried up the steps with a red plate in one hand.
“You could have one of the taquitos I made today if you want” Matrix offered, extending the plate to Ozzal.
After careful consideration Ozzal picked one up and bit off an end, her eyes lit up and she grabbed the plate from Matrix and charged into the other room. Big Brother 8 was about to start, and Ozzal was addicted to reality programming, especially if it was from the Land of Stars and Stripes.
Matrix followed at a careful distance “I take it you like them?” he asked, a giant smile plastered on his face.
“You bet I do, this is even better than the stuff I used to get at Taco Bell before that stupid rabble burned it down. What are these made of anyway Matrix?”
“Oh you know, stuff I had lying around.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, a little salt, pepper, habanera spices, and tentacles for texture.” Matrix said proudly.
Michelle Ozzal gagged, spitting out the taquito and hurled the plate as hard as she could at Matrix.
“Why does EVERYTHING you make involve tentacles?!?! Can’t you be normal at all?” Ozzal was furious, forgetting her reality show and walking towards Matrix, preparing to strangle him for his insolence.
With her hand just mere inches away from Matrix’s scrawny neck, a shadow blocked the doorway.
“Sorry to interrupt this little spat, but I believe that this is more important.” Goda stepped inside, closing the door, a thin pile of papers in his other hand.
“Ah, Goda, I see you have the final analysis on the B-stimulant. Please, enlighten me.” Ozzal said sitting down, wiping the remnants from Matrix’s abomination of the palate from her mouth.
“As expected the B-stimulant went without a hitch. The test subject has no memory of what she has done, and is back to her normal, abrasive self. What’s even better is that we have over-estimated how dependant subjects are of the pill. In fact, it should act just like the A-stimulant given to Jake, with no dependency at all.”
“Excellent, I take it that she has been prepped for her next mission?”
“No, I thought I would leave that honor to you.”
With that Goda and Ozzal exited the room and went down the hall, after entering the elevator, Goda making sure he slammed Matrix’s cyber-wang in the door a few times, and entered the holding cell. Spice was chained against a wall, and was struggling for all she was worth.
“Hello again Spice” Ozzal said calmly.
“Hello again ugly betch” Spice spat, straining against the chains.
Ozzal again held out a pill and a gun.
“Well sweetie, we get to play our little game again. You have the same choices, live or die.”
“You stupid betch, you made me kill Cille, if I ever get free, I’ll give you the most unpleasant turtle secks ever!”
For once Michelle Ozzal had no reply, and simply crammed the pill down Spice’s throat. Spice bit for all her worth, but it was to no avail, and soon enough she was back under the pill’s grip.
“Now Spice I want you to track down that pesky Jake. Bring him back here alive; I want him to see what his actions have lead to.” Ozzal said, cackling all the way back to the elevator.
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Hikki locked the door as the bells struck nine, and carefully made his way to the basement. The remaining members of the Syndicate were crowded around a few tables, talking to each other. Hikki then went and fetched the two strangers that were waiting in the kitchen, and walked downstairs.
“Excuse moi, but if I could udoku ‘ave your attention” Hikki said, waving his hands for the rabble to quiet down.
“I zhink the best way to go about zhis ees to let zhese two explain what ees going on.”
With that Hikki stepped down and Landon stepped onto the stage. The room was silent with several people’s jaws gaping open. Someone dropped a pin, just to prove a point. With that Landon started.
“I assume that you all know who I am. I am Landon Blacken, and I am here to lead you all. I know that Hikki has done a fine job, but I have recently come across an informant that can help us not only survive, but destroy Ozzal once and for all.”
With that he motioned for Cille to step forward, she did so tentatively, and an uproar followed.
“What the hell is this?!? Cille is dead! What kind of fools do you take us for Landon?” Angel cried from the back.
Several people agreed, and the uproar rose to anger, and several people rose from their chairs, presumably to kick Landon and the fake-Cille’s **bleep**.
“Oh I feel faint again, Samson, I require your aid!” Hikki cried, attempting to fall into the arms of Samson, who was foolishly standing only a few feet away.
Samson moved away again, but this time Hikki chased him around the back of the room, until he tripped and knocked himself out on the corner of a chair, relieved Samson went back to being shocked and awed. The rabble grew louder until Cille stood on a chair.
“Would everyone PLEASE shut up for a second?” Cille yelled, attempting to gain control, but to no avail.
Suddenly a heavy knock was heard on the door, heavy and rapid. The room again went silent, and Hikki groggily stood up, signaling to Landon and Samson to follow him, the three went upstairs to the door.
Jake Thompson was now carrying Eric in his arms, or arm really, as he frantically beat on the door, causing the glass pane to crack slightly. Finally the door was open a crack and Jake pulled it open and stumbled inside.
“What ees zhis?” Hikki cried. “You are Jake, no? You are ze enemy, why are you caring zhat man like zhat?!”
“Who the hell are you, and how do you know who I am?” Jake asked bewildered, slowly backing up from the yelling man.
“Hold on a minute” Landon said, and walked towards Jake. He motioned towards Eric.
“What happened to him?”
“I don’t know all the facts, all I know is I was in a church and I heard an explosion, I then went to where the fire was and this guy just fell onto me calling me Peyton and mumbling about some meeting and a man named Landon at a café. So I came here. Do you know him?”
“Yeah I do, c’mon let’s go downstairs, maybe you can help with the rabble.”
Hikki glared at Jake the whole way down, making Jake look nervously around. When the group reached the bottom, the rabble fell to silence again, staring at their supposed enemy carrying a friend in his arms.
“Now let’s try this again, without the panic.” Landon said.
“This is Jake, he was once under Ozzal’s control but he somehow broke free, correct?”
Jake nodded. “Yeah, I really don’t know how, but I want revenge, and I know I can help.”
The group was quiet, unsure what to do. Samson then spoke up.
“How can we trust you?”
“I…I don’t know. I can’t blame you if you don’t, I mean I did such awful things, but…I dunno, I think if you let me help you guys, things could go better.
“Do it. This is one thing we have to do.” Cille suddenly spoke up.
“In the past where I didn’t die, Jake came to us, and we turned him away, he later went on to Comdot Estate by himself, and was never heard from again. I don’t know how much he can help us, but I do know that he won’t be any help to anybody dead. You guys have to trust me on this.”
Landon nodded “Well that settles it for me, I believe you Jake, and I know Eric would if he was awake.”
Jake was suddenly tense, as anyone would be if they were told that they probably died in the future, but he managed to nod.
“Well, I have no reason not to believe them.” Angel said.
“How do we know that they aren’t some evil clones made by Matrix?” Samson said, his eyes darting between Cille and Jake.
“They would have tentacles.” Angel said dully.
That settled it for the rest of the group, and quickly a confident rabble began to rise, Landon seizing the moment jumped on a table.
“We know the future, and we know Ozzal’s weaknesses! There will be no stopping us, even if her men form a barrier that blocks out the sun, we will fight in the shade! Viva la revolution!”
Landon pumped his fist in the air and cheers followed.
-----------------------
Priestess Nafah kneeled by the alter, she bowed her head and prayed hard. Especially for Jake and the revolution, they deserved to be shown mercy by god, and she hoped for as much.
She finished her prayers, and stood up; as she prepared to climb the stairs a knock came at the door. Nafah briskly walked towards the door, and opened it; she didn’t need to hear the voice and recognized the man immediately.
“Father…you have come back…” Nafah whispered.
“Not for long, I’m just making sure that Jake got my package.”
“It was you that sent it?”
“Yes, does he have the cross?”
“Yes, he does.”
“Good, I’ll be leaving now.”
“Wait a second, father?”
“…Yes?”
“What do the crosses mean?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You better sit down then.”
He smiled, and sat down.
“Ok, the crosses symbolize the Order of the Glass. We’re a group that serves as mediators to conflicts like this. We have branches all over the globe, the Actonia branch is the most powerful branch, with the Comedia branch being the second strongest. We really don’t choose sides and whatnot, but I will say that most of us are sympathetic towards the revolutionaries are their causes. However, since we have no agenda, we are not going to launch any kind of group attack.”
Nafah nodded. So you’re like a group of mercenaries?
“Not all of us, some people are just spies or programmers, or whatever, in fact few are actually mercenaries, and Comedia had only one that was shot to death today. It was discovered that she was a double-agent working for a secret Ozzal controlled branch in the Comedia government. We are working to correct this.”
“What about the death of Cille?” Nafah asked
“It has complicated things; in fact we are going to accelerate the flow of events.”
“What do you mean?”
“A war between Comedia and Actonia now is not what Ozzal expects, she expects to invade at a much later date, if we encourage a war now Ozzal could fall. In fact, the death of that one rouge mercenary could work to our benefit, if the Comedia government believes Ozzal to be responsible.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“All you need to know is that things are about to get very dangerous around here Nafah, stay safe, and if you ever need a friend, you know where to find us.”
With that Nafah found a glass cross in her hand. Sadar was gone, almost as quickly as he appeared. Nafah clutched the cross, and then put it on.
“I still don’t know what this all means Father.” Nafah thought “But be careful, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
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Jake nervously walked up to Hikki tapping the French baker on the shoulder.
“Uh, not to be imposing, but I have nowhere to stay; is it possible that I stay with you for a few days?”
“Hmm, I udoku so, but on one condeetion” Hikki said, holding up his pointer finger.
“What?”
“You must ‘elp bake zhings en ze morneeng.”
“Alright, um…thanks.”
With that Jake was shown a small room in the back, and he flopped down on the bed.
“When was the last time I actually slept in a bed?” Jake thought, going to bed with a smile for the first time.
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Spice walked up and down the streets, eyes sweeping the horizon every few feet or so.
“Come on out Jake, don’t be shy now, I promise that I’ll be quick, ask Cille.” Spice said with an evil cackle.
She continued down the street, checking out every little crevice and hole in lower Actonia, until she came across a church with large oak doors.
“Well, if Jake won’t come out to play, maybe I have to drag him out.” Spice thought, walking towards the church, grinning evilly.
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Justin Gudamen groaned stopping again as his boss went in the bushes behind him for the fourth time this hour.
“Boss, you sure you’re ok?” Justin asked, slightly worried.
“I don’t know my friend.” Penguin said clutching his sides “My stomach feels like I swallowed a Cannoli of fire, and I’m starting to crap blood, I don’t know my friend, this seems serious.”
“Let’s get going then.” Justin said, moving forward.
“Hold on my friend. Hold on.” Penguin said, clutching his sides, then contorting his face as he soiled himself and blood ran down his leg.
“I think that was just blood my friend. I think this is it. I see God and he is holding a big plate of cannolis. G-goodbye my friend.”
With that Penguin’s arms fell limp and rested next to his side. Justin scrambled to his side, and started slapping him in the face.
“Boss, boss, boss!” He said worriedly. “What the hell happened to you?”
No soon had Justin uttered this did a man on a horse pulling a covered wagon, pull up next to him.
“Well son I would say that the man you call Penguin has died of dysentery.”
Justin could just stand there and blink as the man rode away family in tow towards the slowly flowing river in the east.
CHARACTERS (In order of arrival)
Landon
Hikki
Samson
Eric
Cille
Nafah
Jake
Shipon
Ozzal
Matrix
Goda
Spice
Angel
Sadar
Justin
The Penguin
Random Man
Landon Blacken carefully put on the weathered hat, making sure that it covered as much hair as it possibly could. He went to the closet and pulled out a black, leather jacket, and took the sporty sunglasses out of the pocket. Putting both garments on, he walked outside, and down the street. He looked around and the rubble of what was once buildings in lower Actonia. Sighing, he turned up another street, and continued on his way.
“Cille said that the reason we all lost was because we were so spread out, too many people over too great a stretch of land. That can’t happen. Not while I am here. We will unite as one, and we will defeat Ozzal. She’ll never know what hit her. We’ll work in the shadows and in the open, and in the end, she will lose. I won’t let the one useful thing Matrix ever built that didn’t involve tentacles go to waste,” he thought, smiling as he stopped in front of his destination.
With supreme confidence he opened the door to the Café de Lune and walked in. There were only a few people there, and nobody at the counter. Landon briskly walked to the counter and rang the bell. No sooner had he lifted his hand did a Frenchman covered in flour emerge from the back. Before he even could greet him, Landon gave him a folded piece of paper, and walked back out the door, making sure that he wasn’t followed as he started phase two.
Hikki Follet could just stand there for a second.
“What a strange man” he thought, before remembering the paper that was placed in his hand. He carefully unfolded it, and nearly fell over from shock.
My name is Landon Blacken, I am sure that you have heard of me from Cille. She told me that you are the current leader of the syndicate. I am back to lead this group to victory. All will be explained tonight at nine. Tell anyone and everyone in-or sympathetic to-the syndicate.
Hikki turned the paper over a few times, hoping to find a signature, but to no avail. Having become concerned with the Frenchman’s absence, Samson walked up to the counter where he found him starting intensely at a small piece of paper.
“What is that?” Samson asked, hoping for a glance.
“Oh Sammie, zis eez ze most shocking zhing I have evar read!” Hikki said breathlessly, “I feel faint!”
With this Hikki threw himself in the direction of Samson, hoping to be caught by his muscular arms, and then tenderly helped up. Instead Samson took a step back and Hikki hit the floor with a dull thud. Scrambling to his feet and still holding the note Hikki opened his mouth to complain, but Samson snatched the note from his hand. Samson eyes flew across the scrawl, and he motioned Hikki to follow him to the back.
“Is this for real Hikki?”
“I suppoze so…” the baker responded, looking out the window.
“So what do we do next?”
“Zat’s no longer up to us Sammie.”
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“I still don’t get any of this” Eric Ominae said, pacing the room, not taking his eyes off future Cille.
“It’s not hard Eric,” Cille said impatiently “I had to die in the past to change the series of events that lead to Ozzal’s victory.”
“But…if you had to die why didn’t you die earlier? Did Spice have to be your killer?”
“I don’t know, what I do know is that I had to be killed by Ozzal, and I was. I’m not going to press my luck by asking too much more.”
“This is way too much, I need to go outside or something, or I’m going to pass out”
“…Will you be there tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Good, make sure you’re not late, you know how Landon gets.”
With that Eric jogged down the stairs and strode into the darkening skies of Actonia. The giant clock, the only thing still recognizable in this area read 6:15. With rain clouds threatening Eric with a wet walk home, he turned down a dark alley and continued walking.
After what seemed to be mere minutes Eric passed by an open garage, and no sooner did he lay eyes on the tricycle in there did rain begin pelting his body. He walked under the roof of the garage and sat down next to the tricycle. Smiling he ran his fingers over the cool metal body. Suddenly memories of his childhood flooded his brain. He could see himself riding a tricycle that his father got him for his third birthday, his mother standing alongside him taking pictures, even though little Eric’s feet could barely reach the petals, yet along push them in a circle.
Memories of the accident followed. Eric hung his head. People told him not to hold a grudge, but how could he not? It was a normal day, the Colts were playing in the Land of the Stars and Stripes, and legendary running back Jerome Bettis fumbled the ball away, all kicked Mike Vanderjackt had to do was nail the field goal, and the Colts were movin’ on. Eric and his dad were hi-fiving on the couch and watched the ball with great intensity. Shockingly, the ball went wide, and the Colts lost. Eric’s father was crushed, he couldn’t believe that alcoholic jackass missed the kick. Standing up Eric’s father looked up and screamed to the heavens “CURSE YOU VANDERJACKT!”
Then, it all went wrong. A tricycle being transported to a needy kid in Niger fell out of a cargo plane, landing on top of Eric’s father, the speed of the impact killed him instantly. Eric remembered his wavering voice.
“Father…father?” Eric said, trying to shake awake the middle aged man, whose skull was bashed in.
“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” Eric cried out.
At the funeral many people laughed, including his mother, and Eric swore that one day, he would beat that drunk of a kicker to death with the same tricycle that struck his father down.
Shuffling to his feet Eric looked down at the tricycle and ran his hand along the handgrips, stopping at the shiny bell. With a smirk Eric clutched the tiny bell, and then pulled the little lever towards him with his thumb. That’s when Eric realized what had happened.
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A tremendous boom shook the very foundation of the church. Priestess Nafah clutched at the candlestick on the alter, making sure it would not tip over and start a fire. She had grown used to that sound, something exploded, and something big.
“What was that?” a bewildered Jake Thompson asked, stumbling down the stairs.
“I don’t know.” Nafah lied.
“I should go take a look.” Jake said, walking down the aisle towards the giant wooden doors.
“Don’t, it is too dangerous out there, and you’re not yet rested. Go back to bed Jake, please.”
“No, I’ve spent too long here. I have got to get moving, Ozzal is looking for me, and I don’t want to get anyone else hurt because of me.”
Silence followed, Nafah studied the young man. He must have been in and out of consciousness for a solid week now. He seemed to have regained his strength, but Nafah was concerned for his safety, Ozzal would certainly want him back, and once he was captured, there would be no way for him to escape again. He had to use extreme caution. It was then she remembered the package that arrived a few days ago.
“At least take this with you” she said, handing Jake a small brown package, poorly wrapped, and covered in scotch tape.
“What is it?” Jake asked, turning the package over, looking for an edge to open.
“I have no idea, I just found it sitting outside one day, and I figured it is for you.”
Jake carefully tore away at the tape, and then the brown paper, inside a little glass cross tumbled out, and with a smaller piece of paper fixed to it with a rubber band. Jake picked up the cross, and slid the rubber band off, unfolding the paper and walking towards the candle to read the faded ink.
“Seeking to forget makes exile all the longer; the secret of redemption lies in remembrance”
“What does this mean?” Jake asked looking confused at Nafah.
She smiled “I think you know what that means. Now go, and be careful. Don’t forget Jake, Ozzal will not let you fall through her fingers.”
“Thank you, for everything” Jake said, and with that he opened the oak doors, and walked out into the night.
-----------------------
“YES YES YES! Take that you dirty Actonite! Let the score read Shipon Kaaba 1, emo Actionites ZERO!”
Kaaba danced around the fireball that was once a garage, it was all too easy. The tricycle bomb was one of the most effective ways to kill an enemy, and she was a master of it. Even if that stranger had a running start, the shrapnel would have surely killed him. She skipped forward, wanting a closer look at her handiwork.
The fire was burning intensely, which drew another round of gloating.
“See? See? I AM THE BEST EVAR!” Kaaba cackled dancing around “Nobody can defeat-“
A loud bang cut her off. Kaaba looked puzzled at the aluminum trash can lid that landed just inches from her feet. She picked it up, and immediately dropped it. It was red hot. Slowly she put together the pieces and felt her jaw drop in horror. There was no way that fool could have survived, he was at ground zero, and it should be raining parts of his body. She looked again at the fireball and staggered back. Looking to her right she saw blood trickling out of a freshly-made bullet wound. Looking back towards the wreckage she saw a bloodied and heavily burned Eric Ominae stumbling forward, gun drawn.
“I should thank you for leaving that trashcan there, without it; I would have been a goner.” Eric said with a sly smile on his face.
“NO FAIR! NO FAIR! NO FAIR!” Kaaba screamed “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO DIE! THIS IS MY UNIVERSE AND YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO EXPLODE INTO A MILLION PIECES!”
“Sorry, I guess you’ll have to deal with a change in the plotline” Eric said squeezing off another round.
Kaaba slumped forward, and then facedown, a small pool of blood was rapidly forming. Eric coughed and staggered around the corner. His body felt heavy and numb, he dropped his gun, and was about to fall down when a mysterious figure caught him and propped him up.
“Peyton is that you?” Eric said, half out of his mind
“Who is that?” the young man said bewildered, nearly dropping him.
“Oh Peyton, I knew you would save me. Even if you play in the Land of the Stars and Stripes, you knew you had to save your biggest Actonian fan.” Eric slurred, head drooping.
“What the hell are you babbling about? I just came here because I saw the fire, and I thought someone was hurt, and I was right.”
Jake took a good look at Eric. He was heavily burned and bleeding a lot. Luckily, Jake was able to stop the bleeding, but he still needed to get somewhere where this guy could be helped. Unfortunately nothing was here but rubble and brick. He would have to head into the town if he were to find anyone.
“The meeting, at the café, Landon’s going to be so pissed off” Eric said before slumping forward, unconscious.
Jake sighed and picked up Eric, slinging him over his shoulder. Jake had only seen one café in the entire town, and he figured that this stranger might have a friend there that can help him or something. Jake set off towards the café, as he heard the church bells strike nine.
-----------------------
Michelle Ozzal tossed a bag of pastrami over her shoulder, some sausage and burger buns soon followed.
“WHERE ARE MY TAQUITOS!” she raged, “I AM THE EMPRESS OF A FREAKIN’ COUNTRY AND I CAN’T GET MY TAQUITOS!”
Hearing this Matrix hurried up the steps with a red plate in one hand.
“You could have one of the taquitos I made today if you want” Matrix offered, extending the plate to Ozzal.
After careful consideration Ozzal picked one up and bit off an end, her eyes lit up and she grabbed the plate from Matrix and charged into the other room. Big Brother 8 was about to start, and Ozzal was addicted to reality programming, especially if it was from the Land of Stars and Stripes.
Matrix followed at a careful distance “I take it you like them?” he asked, a giant smile plastered on his face.
“You bet I do, this is even better than the stuff I used to get at Taco Bell before that stupid rabble burned it down. What are these made of anyway Matrix?”
“Oh you know, stuff I had lying around.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, a little salt, pepper, habanera spices, and tentacles for texture.” Matrix said proudly.
Michelle Ozzal gagged, spitting out the taquito and hurled the plate as hard as she could at Matrix.
“Why does EVERYTHING you make involve tentacles?!?! Can’t you be normal at all?” Ozzal was furious, forgetting her reality show and walking towards Matrix, preparing to strangle him for his insolence.
With her hand just mere inches away from Matrix’s scrawny neck, a shadow blocked the doorway.
“Sorry to interrupt this little spat, but I believe that this is more important.” Goda stepped inside, closing the door, a thin pile of papers in his other hand.
“Ah, Goda, I see you have the final analysis on the B-stimulant. Please, enlighten me.” Ozzal said sitting down, wiping the remnants from Matrix’s abomination of the palate from her mouth.
“As expected the B-stimulant went without a hitch. The test subject has no memory of what she has done, and is back to her normal, abrasive self. What’s even better is that we have over-estimated how dependant subjects are of the pill. In fact, it should act just like the A-stimulant given to Jake, with no dependency at all.”
“Excellent, I take it that she has been prepped for her next mission?”
“No, I thought I would leave that honor to you.”
With that Goda and Ozzal exited the room and went down the hall, after entering the elevator, Goda making sure he slammed Matrix’s cyber-wang in the door a few times, and entered the holding cell. Spice was chained against a wall, and was struggling for all she was worth.
“Hello again Spice” Ozzal said calmly.
“Hello again ugly betch” Spice spat, straining against the chains.
Ozzal again held out a pill and a gun.
“Well sweetie, we get to play our little game again. You have the same choices, live or die.”
“You stupid betch, you made me kill Cille, if I ever get free, I’ll give you the most unpleasant turtle secks ever!”
For once Michelle Ozzal had no reply, and simply crammed the pill down Spice’s throat. Spice bit for all her worth, but it was to no avail, and soon enough she was back under the pill’s grip.
“Now Spice I want you to track down that pesky Jake. Bring him back here alive; I want him to see what his actions have lead to.” Ozzal said, cackling all the way back to the elevator.
-----------------------
Hikki locked the door as the bells struck nine, and carefully made his way to the basement. The remaining members of the Syndicate were crowded around a few tables, talking to each other. Hikki then went and fetched the two strangers that were waiting in the kitchen, and walked downstairs.
“Excuse moi, but if I could udoku ‘ave your attention” Hikki said, waving his hands for the rabble to quiet down.
“I zhink the best way to go about zhis ees to let zhese two explain what ees going on.”
With that Hikki stepped down and Landon stepped onto the stage. The room was silent with several people’s jaws gaping open. Someone dropped a pin, just to prove a point. With that Landon started.
“I assume that you all know who I am. I am Landon Blacken, and I am here to lead you all. I know that Hikki has done a fine job, but I have recently come across an informant that can help us not only survive, but destroy Ozzal once and for all.”
With that he motioned for Cille to step forward, she did so tentatively, and an uproar followed.
“What the hell is this?!? Cille is dead! What kind of fools do you take us for Landon?” Angel cried from the back.
Several people agreed, and the uproar rose to anger, and several people rose from their chairs, presumably to kick Landon and the fake-Cille’s **bleep**.
“Oh I feel faint again, Samson, I require your aid!” Hikki cried, attempting to fall into the arms of Samson, who was foolishly standing only a few feet away.
Samson moved away again, but this time Hikki chased him around the back of the room, until he tripped and knocked himself out on the corner of a chair, relieved Samson went back to being shocked and awed. The rabble grew louder until Cille stood on a chair.
“Would everyone PLEASE shut up for a second?” Cille yelled, attempting to gain control, but to no avail.
Suddenly a heavy knock was heard on the door, heavy and rapid. The room again went silent, and Hikki groggily stood up, signaling to Landon and Samson to follow him, the three went upstairs to the door.
Jake Thompson was now carrying Eric in his arms, or arm really, as he frantically beat on the door, causing the glass pane to crack slightly. Finally the door was open a crack and Jake pulled it open and stumbled inside.
“What ees zhis?” Hikki cried. “You are Jake, no? You are ze enemy, why are you caring zhat man like zhat?!”
“Who the hell are you, and how do you know who I am?” Jake asked bewildered, slowly backing up from the yelling man.
“Hold on a minute” Landon said, and walked towards Jake. He motioned towards Eric.
“What happened to him?”
“I don’t know all the facts, all I know is I was in a church and I heard an explosion, I then went to where the fire was and this guy just fell onto me calling me Peyton and mumbling about some meeting and a man named Landon at a café. So I came here. Do you know him?”
“Yeah I do, c’mon let’s go downstairs, maybe you can help with the rabble.”
Hikki glared at Jake the whole way down, making Jake look nervously around. When the group reached the bottom, the rabble fell to silence again, staring at their supposed enemy carrying a friend in his arms.
“Now let’s try this again, without the panic.” Landon said.
“This is Jake, he was once under Ozzal’s control but he somehow broke free, correct?”
Jake nodded. “Yeah, I really don’t know how, but I want revenge, and I know I can help.”
The group was quiet, unsure what to do. Samson then spoke up.
“How can we trust you?”
“I…I don’t know. I can’t blame you if you don’t, I mean I did such awful things, but…I dunno, I think if you let me help you guys, things could go better.
“Do it. This is one thing we have to do.” Cille suddenly spoke up.
“In the past where I didn’t die, Jake came to us, and we turned him away, he later went on to Comdot Estate by himself, and was never heard from again. I don’t know how much he can help us, but I do know that he won’t be any help to anybody dead. You guys have to trust me on this.”
Landon nodded “Well that settles it for me, I believe you Jake, and I know Eric would if he was awake.”
Jake was suddenly tense, as anyone would be if they were told that they probably died in the future, but he managed to nod.
“Well, I have no reason not to believe them.” Angel said.
“How do we know that they aren’t some evil clones made by Matrix?” Samson said, his eyes darting between Cille and Jake.
“They would have tentacles.” Angel said dully.
That settled it for the rest of the group, and quickly a confident rabble began to rise, Landon seizing the moment jumped on a table.
“We know the future, and we know Ozzal’s weaknesses! There will be no stopping us, even if her men form a barrier that blocks out the sun, we will fight in the shade! Viva la revolution!”
Landon pumped his fist in the air and cheers followed.
-----------------------
Priestess Nafah kneeled by the alter, she bowed her head and prayed hard. Especially for Jake and the revolution, they deserved to be shown mercy by god, and she hoped for as much.
She finished her prayers, and stood up; as she prepared to climb the stairs a knock came at the door. Nafah briskly walked towards the door, and opened it; she didn’t need to hear the voice and recognized the man immediately.
“Father…you have come back…” Nafah whispered.
“Not for long, I’m just making sure that Jake got my package.”
“It was you that sent it?”
“Yes, does he have the cross?”
“Yes, he does.”
“Good, I’ll be leaving now.”
“Wait a second, father?”
“…Yes?”
“What do the crosses mean?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You better sit down then.”
He smiled, and sat down.
“Ok, the crosses symbolize the Order of the Glass. We’re a group that serves as mediators to conflicts like this. We have branches all over the globe, the Actonia branch is the most powerful branch, with the Comedia branch being the second strongest. We really don’t choose sides and whatnot, but I will say that most of us are sympathetic towards the revolutionaries are their causes. However, since we have no agenda, we are not going to launch any kind of group attack.”
Nafah nodded. So you’re like a group of mercenaries?
“Not all of us, some people are just spies or programmers, or whatever, in fact few are actually mercenaries, and Comedia had only one that was shot to death today. It was discovered that she was a double-agent working for a secret Ozzal controlled branch in the Comedia government. We are working to correct this.”
“What about the death of Cille?” Nafah asked
“It has complicated things; in fact we are going to accelerate the flow of events.”
“What do you mean?”
“A war between Comedia and Actonia now is not what Ozzal expects, she expects to invade at a much later date, if we encourage a war now Ozzal could fall. In fact, the death of that one rouge mercenary could work to our benefit, if the Comedia government believes Ozzal to be responsible.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“All you need to know is that things are about to get very dangerous around here Nafah, stay safe, and if you ever need a friend, you know where to find us.”
With that Nafah found a glass cross in her hand. Sadar was gone, almost as quickly as he appeared. Nafah clutched the cross, and then put it on.
“I still don’t know what this all means Father.” Nafah thought “But be careful, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
-----------------------
Jake nervously walked up to Hikki tapping the French baker on the shoulder.
“Uh, not to be imposing, but I have nowhere to stay; is it possible that I stay with you for a few days?”
“Hmm, I udoku so, but on one condeetion” Hikki said, holding up his pointer finger.
“What?”
“You must ‘elp bake zhings en ze morneeng.”
“Alright, um…thanks.”
With that Jake was shown a small room in the back, and he flopped down on the bed.
“When was the last time I actually slept in a bed?” Jake thought, going to bed with a smile for the first time.
-----------------------
Spice walked up and down the streets, eyes sweeping the horizon every few feet or so.
“Come on out Jake, don’t be shy now, I promise that I’ll be quick, ask Cille.” Spice said with an evil cackle.
She continued down the street, checking out every little crevice and hole in lower Actonia, until she came across a church with large oak doors.
“Well, if Jake won’t come out to play, maybe I have to drag him out.” Spice thought, walking towards the church, grinning evilly.
-----------------------
Justin Gudamen groaned stopping again as his boss went in the bushes behind him for the fourth time this hour.
“Boss, you sure you’re ok?” Justin asked, slightly worried.
“I don’t know my friend.” Penguin said clutching his sides “My stomach feels like I swallowed a Cannoli of fire, and I’m starting to crap blood, I don’t know my friend, this seems serious.”
“Let’s get going then.” Justin said, moving forward.
“Hold on my friend. Hold on.” Penguin said, clutching his sides, then contorting his face as he soiled himself and blood ran down his leg.
“I think that was just blood my friend. I think this is it. I see God and he is holding a big plate of cannolis. G-goodbye my friend.”
With that Penguin’s arms fell limp and rested next to his side. Justin scrambled to his side, and started slapping him in the face.
“Boss, boss, boss!” He said worriedly. “What the hell happened to you?”
No soon had Justin uttered this did a man on a horse pulling a covered wagon, pull up next to him.
“Well son I would say that the man you call Penguin has died of dysentery.”
Justin could just stand there and blink as the man rode away family in tow towards the slowly flowing river in the east.
CHARACTERS (In order of arrival)
Landon
Hikki
Samson
Eric
Cille
Nafah
Jake
Shipon
Ozzal
Matrix
Goda
Spice
Angel
Sadar
Justin
The Penguin
Random Man