Beaver2416 (Reviler's Affray) (23 page)

“
I will keep my promise … Jesus, I will keep my promise
.” Beaver called, looking towards the ceiling with tears of joy.

Without warning, the whited door quickly swung open. A shadowed figure stood in front of him in the darkness. Beaver shielded his face in fright, knowing that the troops had sent out Mar-bots. These hulking androids, had massive, rotating appendages that stood ready to decapitate anyone at a ticts notice. It stood there watching, as if it were scanning the room. Beaver held his breath and sat motionless, hoping that it would leave without finding him. Suddenly, the form dashed forward and engulfed him. The scattered rays of light that shone through the doorway, reviled its true form as the figure came closer.

It was Bobble!

“
Praise God… you’re still alive! I heard you screaming and I thought the troops were torturing you
…” Bobble said in a frantic tone, trying to help him to his feet.

“
I… I was infused. But they didn’t get me
!” Beaver quietly stated, pointing at the blackened void upon the concrete.

“
You truly are Robert’s son
…” Bobble quipped in wonderment.

After a few moments of excitement, reality again reared its ugly head to Beaver.

“
Morgan’s dead
…” Beaver whispered, still out of breath from his excruciating ordeal.

“
I know … some of the others told me what happened,
”--Bobble said with a solemn candor—“…
all the troops and the explosives
.”

“
Verb-bot saved my life …
” Beaver said, with tears flowing from his eyes.

He again broke down, dropping to the floor in overwhelming emotion. He was limp and prostrated upon the floor, as if his skeletal frame had turned into neo-rubber. Bobble quickly heaved him back to his feet, and then slapped him hard across the face.

“
Enough Isaiah! Enough! You have much more than yourself to think about now!
” he said with authority, shaking Beaver and peering into his eyes.

Just then, Beaver thought about that name that Bobble used.

Isaiah … That was the same name that Verb-bot said
--he pondered.

His mind was quickly awash with contemplation, searching for any nuance of that name in his memories. Suddenly, he had a recollection that was deeply hidden, appear to his cerebellum of thought. It was something that was to be daily beaten out of him, by all of the years of Academy hardship.

His father called him Isaiah--that was his true birth name
.

He said that it was the “
name of a great prophet of the ancient world
.”

“
You must live up to your name someday, Isaiah,
” His father told in fleeting memory--“You were born for a
powerful
reason …
you will lead them
.”

Quickly, his apparition of long ago dematerialized into nothingness.

“
FATHER!
…
I AM NOT A LEADER
!” Beaver yelled out loud, in his fading mental delirium.

“
You are not going to be anything at all, if we don’t get out of here
…”--Bobble hurriedly said, interrupting Beaver’s past reminiscence.

This comment brought back a sense of logic to Beaver’s brain. Troops were everywhere--still scouring to find Bobble. They had to leave now, without any hesitation. Regardless, he now had a promise to keep, and he intended on fulfilling every word of it. He had lived his life for many spans in disguise, working for the Academy powers. He did so, only for his own selfishness and survival. Now, that Beaver2416 was dead; he was determined that he was going to live in freedom, for the sake of others. His past had dissolved before his eyes, and now he had to become someone else--someone much, much greater than before.

With a hand grab from Bobble, he fully stood to his feet with a new found composure.

“
Ok … Ok … lead the way
.”--he surrendered, with his hand outstretched.

The two then wandered out of the whited door, arm in arm, into the blackness of the unknown dark.

Chapter 18:

“
Were you followed? You are Bio-marked, remember
?” Isaiah barked with a brotherly authority.

“You know
good and well
, there isn’t an
Acad presence
for at least
400 miles
from here!” Bobble snapped back.

“A Mile-- Five Thousand Two hundred and Eighty feet--
Right
?” Isaiah said inquisitively.

“Yes--you are still learning. Soon … you’ll know what a
salsa
is.” Bobble said with a laugh.

Beaver could only roll his eyes at such a reply.

Their new accommodations were something left to be desired. The Schism that were left from the complex, had evacuated beyond the Screen, to the pre-determined area of the Goad Wastelands. Morgan had created and hidden long ago several interrupters throughout New Judah, to escape through the Ionosphere fed force-field. It was always his hope they would never be used on a large scale. However, because of his unwavering vigilance and devotion, Morgan was the only casualty that night in New Judah.

His loss resonated with everyone immensely. As they drudged through the dark in the desert-like wasteland, you could see the pattern of drops in the sand from the people’s tears. This pattern, shimmering in the moonlight; is what lead Beaver and Bobble directly to the group. It was a literal trail of tears. Many were so distraught they had to be held up by others. Still many, could not move because they could think of nothing else than their deep sorrow for their fallen Brother in Christ.

However, everyone knew that above all else, they had to grieve in silence. In fact, they had to be as
silent as the grave
. Far beyond any Academy threat, there was a greater enemy lurking. There was an abundance of mutated, nocturnal creatures that dwelt there--and their many poisoned devices. Just one simple brush-up with any of them would mean certain death. Yet amazingly, no one met their end that night—no, not from the creatures or the Academy. Bobble believed that it was Morgan watching over them from above.

Beaver could not bring himself to think otherwise.

Where they were ultimately going to, was many miles away from any of the Academy screened lands. Far into this craggy frame of abomination, there was a small supply outpost used in the Second World War of the former time. It was also used for some time after that conflict, for something called Petrol Gasoline. Morgan had found this hidden gem in his youth as a courier, and marveled at how well preserved it was.

But to get there--they needed some transportation.

Several miles outside of New Judah there was a hollow, built in the side of one of the many rock formations. As the sun’s rays began to dawn upon the vagabond refugees, their mourning turned into rejoicing as they could see the sticks and branches still firmly in place, hiding their contents inside. They frantically tossed aside the decaying camouflage with great speed, fearing any sort of Academy surveillance in the early dawn’s light.

“
Quickly … Quickly—in and out. You know the routine
.” Bobble resonated throughout the group.

In the side of the small cavern, there was a cache of hidden supplies and several small, moving 4 wheeled vehicles.

Bobble said, the tire laden, mobility devices were called “
ATM’s
” in the former time.

Each one had been greatly modified, to use canisters of Liquefied Petroleum as fuel. This was because it made them go longer distances, carrying less weight than normal fuels. Attached to the back of each of them were modified and shock-absorbed wheeled carts, for carrying supplies and children. The men began to load each cart with food and shelter supplies, as the women did maintenance checks and tested the vehicles.

Along with the caravan of wares, there were also several hov-equipped exo-suits with hyper-class weapons attached; nestled in the corner. They were smuggled during the wrath of the Great Conflict. The Schism hid them long ago—
just in case
. However old, these looked extremely modified and well-maintained. Several of the larger men including Bobble, strapped themselves inside each exo-suit and did various checks and power-ups. It was as if they had fought many battles with these machines before.

Beaver marveled at how well-organized and meticulously planned everything was.

“
Morgan must have trained you well
--” Beaver said to Bobble and the rest of the now-weaponized men.

“
Almost every day—except for Sundays, of course
.” Bobble said.

“
Why Sunday? What is a Sunday anyway
?” Beaver said, with a puzzled look.

“
Boy—you have got a LOT to learn
.” Bobble said, wagging his head in disgust.

“
Enough chatter
.
They have an ATM for you over there—all you do is turn the left handle SLOWLY to go forward--and the stick thing on the right handle is the braking mechanism. Press it SLOWLY to stop. You steer it by turning the handlebar left and right—you got all of this?!”

“Yes Sir--Bobble Sir.”

“Can the sarcasm—we have a long distance to travel and I don’t want to hear it.”

Beaver could only roll his eyes in disgust.

As Beaver mounted his mechanical steed, the people began to slowly file out of the hollow. He could only sit in awe of the caravan of rebellion. What impressed him the most, was the carts trailing behind most of the ATM’s. Each one was filled with joyous children, playing and singing strange songs about bible characters. As he peered hard at each one, it gave him a surge of new hope--much more than ever before.

“
There truly is a hope for tomorrow
—“Beaver said to himself.

After all the 4 wheeled vehicles had left, the exo-suit clad men followed behind--some in the air and some on the ground. They were ready to neutralize any threat that crossed their path, for the sake of their families.

“
Are you coming
?!” Bobble yelled as he too left the hollow; following on the ground in his exo-suit.

Without a word, Beaver slowly turned the handle and jerked forward. It jolted him backwards so hard that it almost knocked him off.

“
They make it look so easy
—“he huffed.

After a few tries, he found a smooth equilibrium of movement. Finally figuring out what to do, he whooped with a loud, gleeful sound, as he raced to catch up to the others.

Their trek across such desolation was long and tedious. It seemed to Beaver as if they had travelled for years. However after several long miles, driving an ATM suddenly felt very liberating to Beaver. He had never felt such freedom in all of his days. He realized that now he had the power to shape his destiny--to turn his life from left to right at will. He could stop or go. He could spin around or go straight. This machine of the past seemed like an extension of himself—he was the one in control, with God as his flowing fuel source. Ultimate control of one’s destiny was reserved for the G.M. alone, in the Academy. His twirlings and swayings were nothing more than acts of treason—and Beaver loved every minute of it.

“
Will you quit playing around and COME ON?
!” Bobble barked with agitation through the exo-suit’s echoing address system.

Beaver rolled his eyes and quickly got back in line with the others.

  Reluctantly now with his gaze affixed to the backs of the Schism riders, every jagged rock they passed reminded him of the Great Conflict. In this land of boredom, his mind was consumed with the dreaming that he was suddenly transported back in time. Mile after mile, he felt as if he too was found battling enemies and fighting wars. Beaver daydreamed that his ATM was a noble steed, clad with armoring and weaponry. He was in a quest to fight through the sea of foppish do-nothings at Perpetua--blowing up each hulking sentry, to annihilate his evil sect-bot and his rear-end fortress. But sadly, as soon as he had breached past the sentries and the wicked sect-bot leader was in his sights, his childish musings were put on hold as their destination was now completely in view.

It was just as Morgan had described it so many times to the people. There was a large awning-clad building with strange devices still preserved out front. Each one of them had rolling numbers under glass, and odd looking handles sticking out of their metallic sides. The building itself still had its plate glass window intact and a large hanging sign with a faded greenish turtle inscribed upon it. The only intelligible word upon the partially melted sign was the word
Sin
.  This word was very fitting for the place and its remote location.

As their rumbling of engines and exo-suits inched closer, Beaver noticed people appearing from inside of the station. Each one was frantically waving and leaping into the air in celebration. Beaver knew at that moment they must be one of the “other Schism” that Morgan had spoken of. When they finally arrived, they were immediately surrounded with mirth and song. Truly, this was a time to rejoice. They were all free, in their own deserted Republic on which they stood. The Academy and its many tentacles had no jurisdiction over their would-be kingdom. If they did ever come for them, they now would be armed and ready to fight.

Fighting against the Acad forces was far out of the question in the New Judah complex. They were basically
sitting fowlreys
in their former caved enclosure. Everyone that lived there knew eventually, it would come to pass that they would have to evacuate. Why they did not leave for safer accommodations all of those years, was for the reason of something Morgan called “
the Great Commission.
” The location in New Judah, gave them the ability to help the Humbles and the Nobles, keeping them from the threat of starvation or death by sickness, as well as converting as many as would to Christianity. They did not care for their lives, only to help others. It also gave them insight into the Academy’s movements and technology.

Morgan told Isaiah frenziedly in their last meeting (just before his demise), about something called “
Missionaries.”
He said that many of the artifacts, stuffed into each bag were from mid-ancient Missionaries that reached around the world with the gospel. He also said in the seconds before his death, “
Beaver—you must carry the torch
.” He did not have a clue as to what Morgan meant, until he saw the people and the station.

In the months since their exodus in the night and vast trip across the wastelands, the people fully learned of Isaiah’s ordeal, Verb-bot’s heroism, and how Morgan had fully met his demise in the fallen complex. With great condolence, one by one they began to look to Isaiah for answers. The once existent Hachiman from Westbrook, at first greatly resisted their attachment. He could not accept their esteem and devotion. Partly, because of the years of brainwashing from the Academy. The other part was, he was afraid of becoming just like Harvey Damron. Who after the thronging of the multitudes of Lev technology worshippers, became the Academy’s official
false god
. Christian or not, this idea of exaltation was against everything that he believed in. However, after a few months, Isaiah relented in their demands and began to act in some measure as their interim leader.   

“
Are all the people assembled
?” Beaver stated with command.

“
Yes, Isaiah
.”--Bobble said as he greatly sighed--“
You know … there is no going back now. Especially after tonight
.”

“
We have been planning this for the last eight months
!”--Isaiah quipped, as he stood up from his Lev-seat—“
It took us five hard months alone, just to get it back. I would never dream of turning aside! My entire life has lead up to this moment. I believe it’s my destiny
.”

“
I believe it too, sir
.” Bobble said with slight subordination.

As Isaiah walked towards the modified inner chamber, Bobble nudged him on the arm.

“
You will do just fine, sir
”--he said with a tone of endearment.

“In Jesus name
”--Isaiah stated, also with a brotherly sound.

“
Yes--in Jesus name
.” Bobble said as Isaiah walked past, towards the downward steps leading to the chamber.

As he slowly descended, he could see that the thick bunker door was wide open, awaiting his entrance. So much had happened, leading up to this one moment in neo-history. His very steps into the chamber were like pylons of great monument, marking this night forever in the annals of all remembrance. The electro-whips and dunners of the Academy’s arsenal seemed like absolute nothingness in Isaiah’s mind. In his past, they were the very chains that had him bound to their wickedness. But now that he was free, he would never let them take hold of him again. Isaiah swelled with the raw power of the truth and the Spirit. No force in Hell was going to stop him from carrying out his destiny’s plan, as he finally stepped past the rubber sealed threshold.