Beneath the Mask
Gerard stared out
at the ocean in anticipation as Archer recovered the pistols and other gear
from the raiders' bodies. They let Sage make his way to a nearby camp to rest,
but they told him not to speak of the coming raiders yet. The goon who had
fired the flare was still hobbling along the beach, so Gerard slowly made his
way to him. Sand crunched underneath his feet as he reached the injured
man.
“Please, don't kill
me,” he pleaded.
“Keep quiet,”
Gerard instructed as he stomped down on his wounded leg. The man cried out in
pain.
“I need you to
deliver a message to Moore for me. Tell him he can send as many men as he can
muster, but it won't matter. The time for subjugation has passed. We will be
the ones standing on this beach tomorrow, when the sun rises. Now, one last
thing. Where are the Jet Skis you used to get here?”
“Down that way,
another half mile,” he pointed. “We pulled them into the treeline to keep them
hidden from your people.”
“Good, we'll leave
a Jet Ski behind for you to relay my invitation with,” he told him. After
Gerard was sure the man had absorbed his words, he jogged back to Archer to
discuss his plan.
“Let me guess, you
want to use the goners in the cave as a weapon against the raiders. Am I right,
Gerard?” Archer asked as he hit the proverbial nail on the head.
“Well... Yes,
actually,” he answered. “Will it work?”
“I've thought of
trying it myself a few times, but the right opportunity never presented itself.
Even if your plan does work though, people will die in this battle. Are you the
rightful one to lead us, Gerard?”
“I don't know,” he
told him with a conflicted heart. “I want to be that man, but I'm just a kid.
I'll do my absolute best to keep everyone alive. Is that enough?”
“It is for me,”
Archer said. “What do we do until then?”
“We'll both head
back to camp, and tell the others about what happened here. After that, Forrest
will show me where the closest cave entrance is. You and the others will go
around to the other camps recruiting anyone willing to fight for their freedom
tonight. We'll meet back up here before sunset.”
Gerard walked along
the trail with Forrest a few steps behind him. They were fast approaching the
entrance to the labyrinth of caves that ran all over the island. Gerard pulled
out a pair of walkie-talkies from his newly acquired backpack, courtesy of the
dead thugs on the beach.
“Why are we not
hiding from The Hyperion men, Gerard?” Forrest frustratingly asked. “You've
been here less than a month, and you're already ordering people around and
whatnot. Why are we at the caves of all places? We could be attacked any
minute.”
“We are ending this
war tonight, Forrest. Do you want to lead a normal life with Summer again
someday? This is the only way we can achieve that, and you have a crucial role
to play.”
“I'm not good with
guns. Give me an engine, and I'll fix her up, but I can't shoot worth a shit,”
Forrest admitted to him.
“No fighting
required. Just take this walkie, and when I signal you, make as much noise as
possible at the entrance of this cave,” Gerard went on, “Once you've gotten
them all riled up and clamoring for your flesh, make your way back to Blade's
camp. I'll be waiting, so we can make a quick get-a-way.”
“That is some crazy
shit, Gerard. How do you ever expect to talk me into this?” he asked.
“I'm not talking
you into anything. It's your choice. If you don't want do this though, we are
going to lose this battle. Everyone on this island is counting on you.
Don't let them down.”
“Fine. Give
me the damn walkie,” Forrest grumbled. Gerard handed it to him and started
making his way back to the beach with a smile on his face. If he could convince
even Forrest of his plan, the others were sure to fall in line.
Burning precious
daylight, Gerard picked up his pace after the sun had disappeared behind the
trees. Up ahead, he could see the crowd
of volunteers that Summer, Rose and Archer had accumulated in such a short
time. There were at least 15 people patiently waiting for his arrival. Gerard
could hear them whispering and laughing as he got closer to the large group.
“I'm not
babysitting this kid the whole fight,” a stranger belted out. Some of the other
men shouted out in agreement. “We should forget this whole fight. Find
someplace to hide out,” another man chimed in.
“That's enough! This
so-called kid took out two raiders by himself today,” Archer embellished
the truth to strengthen his claim. “He's the only one in five years who refused
to bow down to Moore and his merry band of raiders! If you want to run and hide
again, then go ahead. We'll be down here fighting for the liberation of this
island for your benefit.”
“They'll slaughter
us with their guns,” a scared, young man declared.
“Not if we can
trick them by using the goners from the caves as a trap,” Gerard continued
telling the group his plan. “They'll be forced to deal with them, and while
they're distracted, we'll flank them on both sides with an all-out attack. This
will be a day that no one ever forgets. Stories will be passed down about this
battle, gentlemen. Will you face down these merciless thugs with Archer and I,
or sit idly by the sidelines of history.”
The crowd burst
into cheering and applause as Gerard finished speaking. Rose approached him and
pulled him aside. “Gerard, that was quite a speech back there. You really impressed
me,” she told him.
“Thanks, I probably
picked it up from some movie or something. I wanted to give your people some
hope.”
“You have. There's
something else I need to talk to you about though,” as Rose spoke, Gerard felt
his heart skip a beat.
“Okay... What is
it?” he managed to say without fumbling his words.
“Carver, the leader
of a camp near the bluffs, has a Marine VHF radio powered by a generator set up
in his tent. He said that for the first time in years, he's gotten a response from
someone. A man named General Pitchford told him how they wanted to mount a
rescue effort as soon as possible, but they are severely low on ammunition and
men. They would be no match for Moore and his thugs, but if we make it past the
fleet, the general could rescue us much more easily.”
“That's great,”
Gerard felt the butterflies in his stomach dissipate. “Once we get through
this, we can figure out how to reach them, and then I can get you and your
people off this rock. I really don't want you in the middle of all this
fighting either, try and stay close to the back of it, okay?”
“Will do and by the
way, Gerard,” Rose said as she gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Good luck.”
Rose had left
Gerard feeling lovestruck as he helped move the raiders' bodies farther down
the beach to use as chum for the feeders.
As Gerard watched the sun finally set that night, he felt a
horrible pit in the bottom of his gut. They silently watched the shore from the
treeline. Feeders hovered over the corpses of the two raiders from earlier that
day. They gorged themselves on organs and fatty tissue, blood dripping from
their dead, slack-jawed mouths. Gerard and his men had to remain eerily quiet,
so they would not distract the creatures. Forrest had accomplished quite the
feat by bringing them here, and Gerard was impressed by that. Once night had
finally arrived, the faint hum of numerous engines could be heard. Even the
goners seem to hear the noise as they momentarily relinquished their meal to
gaze out at the sea. They, more than most, must have sensed blood would soon be
spilt that night. An armada of thirty Jet Skis came crashing ashore soon after
that.
Gunfire erupted
from the gang of men as they realized they were face to face with fifty
feeders. The raiders scattered to cover more ground as men began dropping like
flies. “Should we attack?” Forrest asked Gerard as they watched the carnage
unfold.
“Not yet,” he
replied. The Hyperion goons desperately tried to establish a position,
but the feeders were heeding any efforts in doing so. After half their number
had fallen and most of their ammunition spent, some men began retreating to
their watercraft. “Now!” Gerard signaled his people as they began
filtering out of the bushes. They had only three pistols to go around, so they
gave them to the most capable shooters. An arrow slid from his bow as it
pierced flesh and ended the thug it met. The raiders were surrounded on all
sides. The scarred, young man to his right took a bullet to his head, so Gerard
rushed the shooter. As they fought on the ground, Gerard pulled a knife from
his shoe. It slid effortlessly into the man's heart. A bullet grazed Gerard's
head, nicking his ear. He fell backwards in the sand and saw an upside down
image of Archer releasing an arrow, killing the man who almost killed him. As
Archer came to his aide, Gerard regained his composure.
“Did he hit you?”
Archer asked him. “Things are getting pretty chaotic now. I can barely tell
who's who out here.”
“I'm good, it only
grazed me,” he answered as he held a bandana to his ear.
“Have we turned the
tide yet, Gerard? Are we winning?”
“I think so, they
are starting to turn tail and----” Gerard was cutoff by a scream as a
feeder bit into Archer's ankle. The monster had been crawling on the sand like
a snake, dragging its atrophied legs behind it. Archer fell forward, but Gerard
eased him down. The goner reached for Gerard as he felt around in the sand for
his knife. Its teeth were mere inches from his leg. Without any other options,
Gerard pulled the arrow out of the raider he had downed moments ago and plunged
it into the feeder's eye socket.
“Gerard,” Archer
spoke. “I don't want to turn into one of them. Please, put me out of my
misery.”
“I can't,” Gerard
said holding back tears.
“But you must. You
really made a difference on this island, my friend. Our people can finally be
free from tyranny. Never forget that, Gerard. Now, grab that raider's gun over
there. Send me to my family; They're waiting for me.”
“I'm so sorry,
Archer,” Gerard grabbed the pistol and pointed it at the dying man. “Goodbye
friend.”
The shot rang out
over the sand, and the gun clicked empty. Gerard looked around the battlefield
for signs of life. Almost all of the feeders were dead, and the surviving
raiders had retreated. Three figures were running his way, but Gerard was too
distraught to recognize their faces at a distance. However, within moments, the
Butcher and two other raiders were standing directly in front of Gerard.
“You couldn't beat us in a fair fight, so you round up
feeders to kill us. How pathetic. Any last words, chickenshit?” one of the
raiders questioned him. The Butcher silently stood by. Gerard looked up at the
man and asked, “What are you waiting for?” Before the men could answer him with
their rifles, the Butcher sprang to life and quickly snapped both of the goons'
necks before they knew what hit them. Gerard stood in awe at his twist of fate.
The masked man came closer to him and removed the hood that concealed his true
identity. “Are you okay, Gerard?” the man asked him with great sincerity.
Gerard looked up at the familiar face.
“Father?”
Special Guest Writer - Alex
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