The Wall, page 17
As I head towards the door he pops up. “Wait.”
I turn and feign boredom, tapping my ricochet. He leaves the room and returns a few minutes later with a rolled up tattered piece of paper that looks more like an ancient scroll.
“I present to you, The Fort Worth Armory.”
I grab the map and try my best to hide my excitement. Within my grasp is quite possibly The Defiance’s last hope, assuming the armory actually exists and the map isn’t a fake.
“If this is a fake, I’ll be back,” I say it in my best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice.
“It’s the real thing.”
“Oh, and if anyone asks, I was never here.”
Again Boaz squints like he’s experiencing deja vu. I can tell he knows that something is very odd about my visit, about what I’m doing here. He stares at my ricochet, “Tell me Amos, where is it that you are from again?”
I smile, and instead of answering I hold up the map. “Careful Boaz, you may yet become a good man.”
Darius went ahead to set it up. I leave my third army at camp two miles behind. We are back in The Middle under false pretenses of another patrol. What I really did was move my army from an impending ambush Cephas had planned last week. Along with Kenan and a dozen other of my elites, we ride on horseback to the edge of the woods.
“Are you . . . you . . . sure this is a good idea?” Kenan stutters, wondering why we left our muscle behind.
I tell him that I am meeting an informant who is easily spooked. I hop off my horse. “Wait here.”
I traverse deep into the woods, my boots trampling through brush and fallen branches. After seeing my parents cemented in that frozen womb, I am a believer now. I will fight for The Defiance and what they stand for, regardless of my uncle. Regardless of the mistakes I have made in the past. Cephas is right though. I need to forgive myself for the bombing at the bazaar, I need to move past it.
Dusk approaches as I spot the flicker of a flashlight in the distance. Three flashes, then one. I mimic it with my own light. Another half mile I arrive to find Darius, next to him is a man whose face is covered with a black hood.
“Clear?” Darius asks.
I nod and Darius slips off the hood. Cephas eyes me with what feels like a permanent scowl. Although his heart has changed, his appearance hasn’t. He peers at me, my exoarmor, my black and gold Lazurite sash. My face is freshly shaved, my clean skin smells of soap. He sees I have been eating well, sleeping comfortably. It’s evident he hasn’t.
“So, this is what a prince of Zion looks like.” His tone derisive.
“Uncle, I have something—”
He interrupts. “My men tell me your army has moved. Last week I had a perfectly planned ambush and somehow your army knew not to be there. Did you tell them?”
“Yes,” I answer plainly.
“YES?” His face turns crimson, like a bad sunburn.
“I will not let you kill my boys.”
“Your boys?” Cephas replies furiously. “These are Lazurite killers. You are not one of them Asher. I sent you to do a job.”
Now my voice raises. “That’s correct, you did. You sent me to earn their trust and convince them to fight for us. That can’t happen if they’re dead. Wasn’t that the plan?”
“It was, until my spies told me how much you and your bride have been living it up while we starve! Enjoying it no less. And what about the intel you were supposed to provide Darius? You have given me nothing!”
“Nothing!” I yell back. “What about Dagger? He is out of play.”
“You are assuming that is a good thing. We didn’t agree with his methods, but at least he kept Renatus busy. How about anything of consequence?”
“Consequence? How about winning the Canonization? Defeating Legion? No progress? How long do you think it takes to earn the trust of an entire army? So much so that you convince them to turn against their own people, their own leaders, their way of life, and commit treason that is punishable by death? Not to mention earning the trust of Renatus! You have asked the impossible, yet I am delivering.”
Cephas’s head sinks, his gaze lowers to his feet. “You’re right Asher, I’m sorry, it’s just that, I need, we need every win we can get. I guess I have become impatient. Times are bleak nephew.”
“When aren’t they?”
He looks up at me with his bloodshot eyes and I wonder if he’s back on the tonic. I have never seen him so hopeless. So angry. He reminds me of the old Cephas.
“I have something to ask you uncle, and I want the truth.”
“Of course.”
“The meeting with my parents and Renatus, where they were supposed to discuss a peace treaty. Who did the ambushing? You or Renatus?”
Cephas sighs with a hint of shame. “He told you?”
“Yes.”
“And you believe him?”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“Yes, it is true.”
“And without my father’s knowledge? Against his orders?”
Cephas raises his voice. “Look, you need to understand, I saw an opening, a way to take out Renatus and perhaps end this war once and for all. Your father was way too trusting. You can’t trust a man like Renatus.”
“And apparently you can’t be trusted either,” I snap.
“Please, nephew, I didn’t mean for your parents to get killed. I was doing what I thought was right at the time. It’s just one of many things I hope you can forgive me for.”
I see that he is truly remorseful and my tone softens. “Yeah, well, guess what uncle. They aren’t dead.”
“What?”
“They are in The Mountain, frozen in time. And we are going to get them out. All of them.”
He says, “It’s not gonna be easy.”
“It never is.”
“We had a bit of a setback.”
“Of course we did!”
Cephas’s voice is sullen. “Two days ago they found our headquarters. Burned it to ground. We lost everything Asher. Weapons, food, intelligence. Men. Good men. I became complacent in our safety. I thought us untouchable in our compound.”
“Jude?” I ask, surprised by how much I miss him.
“Jude made it. Stringbean is too skinny of a target.” Cephas forces a slight smile.
“I’m sorry uncle. You’re right, I could have given Darius more intel. But the attack on your compound, I had no idea. If I did I would have told you.”
“I know. Tell me you have good news nephew. Tell me this isn’t a social visit.”
I hand him the rolled-up map. “The Fort Worth Armory.”
He snatches it, but peers at me with his usual skepticism. “It doesn’t exist.” But then he realizes it’s our last hope, that it must exist. “Does it?”
I feel like we have switched roles, at least for the moment. “My prayer is that you’ll go and find out. There is a food and supply depot twenty miles east of here my army uses to re-supply. I’ll give you the key.”
“And if we find the weapons? Then what?”
“Go to Sector 304 on the western side of The Wall. I am hoping to have it opened before you get there. I will then bring my third army to meet you.”
“So, you have a plan already to open The Wall?”
“It’s in the works.”
“And your third army, you have gained their trust? You think they will follow you nephew?”
“I think so.”
“Think so? Hoping? It’s not breeding a lot of confidence son.”
“Have faith uncle,” I say with a smile, regurgitating his own words back at him. “Besides, we’re out of options.”
And with the flip of a switch, he is back to being Cephas, the strong and hopeful leader, cantankerous yes, but also wise. He places his gnarled fingers on my shoulders, dried blood and dirt sleep in the cracks of his knotty knuckles.
“Tell me son, you didn’t kill Legion, why?”
“I don’t know, I just, I—”
“You felt something didn’t you? In the towers, after you prayed.”
“Yes.”
“Can I be honest with you?”
“When aren’t you?”
“I didn’t think you’d pull it off.”
“We haven’t won yet. We still need a miracle.”
“I never thought you would get this far, but here we are. You won the Canonization, you somehow defeated Legion, you now command Renatus’s third army, you are a hero of Zion, and now you stand here handing me a map to what I thought didn’t exist. How’s that for a miracle?”
“Why did you choose me?” I have been wanting to ask that for a long time.
“I didn’t.” He points to the sky. “I take my orders from a higher command.”
“What is He telling you now?”
“To pray for another miracle. You may no longer be welcome in Zion.”
“What do you mean?”
“Amos.”
He doesn’t have to explain. Either Amos died in the fire when they burned down Cephas’s compound, or he was rescued and is now regaling Renatus with quite the tale.
There is only one way to find out.
After nearly seven days on horseback, Cephas, Jude, and a remnant of The Defiance reach Reservation 23, the former Lone Star State. Their rations were depleted two days ago. Cephas gingerly slides off of his horse and can’t remember the last time he was this sore.
“We make camp here tonight, and then enter Fort Worth first thing in the morning.”
Cephas peers at his exhausted and famished men. “But first things first, we need food.” Then he adds sarcastically, “Even Jude is hungry.”
“Already on it.” Jude approaches with two compound bows and hands one to Cephas.
Thirty minutes later Cephas and Jude are crouched behind a fallen tree, forty yards in front of them is a majestic American elk. His massive antlers sport eight points on each side. Jude tosses a leaf into the air and it blows away from the elk, doublechecking that they are still downwind.
“Winds are good,” Jude whispers.
If the winds are just right, an elk can smell you from a thousand yards away. Good thing as neither of them can remember the last time they bathed. Not that Cephas has anything against hunting with a firearm, but he loves the purity of using a bow and arrow. He liked the fact that a thousand years ago you could make do with what they were doing today, he felt a connection to the past, with his ancestors before gunpowder existed. He remembers teaching Asher how to shoot a bow before the ricochet became his weapon of choice. He used to say, “You draw back and sometimes they hear you. Winds change and they’ll smell you. Look you in the eye for just a moment. They see you have no malice, you’re doing what nature intended, and so are they. I think the animal can sense it, can look into your soul and forgive you. Can’t do that with a gun.” Besides, ammunition was best saved for the war.
“You want it?” Jude asks, knowing full well Cephas does.
Cephas draws back, exhales, and releases. The arrow slices through the air and hits the elk behind the shoulder blade about a third of the way up from the top of the front leg; a perfect heart shot. It runs on pure adrenaline for about forty yards into the woods before falling.
Cephas glances over to Jude. “I killed it, you gut it.”
An hour later, after gutting and skinning the massive animal, Cephas and his emaciated men ravish the tender elk meat.
“Where did Asher even get the map?” Jude asks.
“Boaz.”
“Boaz? He can’t be trusted.”
“He’ll do anything to save his own hide. Remember, to Boaz, it wasn’t Asher he was speaking to, it was a prince of Zion, The Vanquisher of Legion, it was Amos the Great!” Cephas says in a sing-song tone. The fresh elk meat has lifted his spirits and lightened his mood. Not to mention the map he now grips in his oversized paws.
“Hah! I would have loved to have been there. To see that greedy mercenary shake in his fat boots!”
Cephas peers up at the dazzling canopy of stars. “Some men have their treasure here on earth, some will have it in heaven.”
“If that’s the case, we must be rich up there!” Jude jokes, watching a star streak across the sky before staring into the crackling campfire.
Cephas is silent for a few minutes. Then, “Why do you follow me Jude?”
“It’s not so much you as it is the cause. God has a purpose for everyone. Some are meant to be leaders. Some are meant to follow. One is not better than the other, especially in our case eh?”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Cephas snorts.
“Never been to Texas. You think it’s there? You think it actually exists?”
Cephas scoots closer to the fire and warms his hands. “I don’t know, but I don’t think the Almighty is sending us on a snipe hunt. And if He is, there is a reason behind it. Get some sleep, as for tomorrow we find out.”
“If we do find it, do you think there will be enough weapons to make a difference?” ponders Jude.
“There used to be a saying that ‘Everything is bigger in Texas.’ Let’s hope that rings true of the armory.”
I’m apprehensive as I return to Zion West. Did they find the real Amos alive? Or was he killed during the fire? It’s a risk, but I must return. I still need to gain the hearts and minds of my third army. Giving them a week off should help. I need to find out how and where I can open The Wall. If Cephas is successful and the Fort Worth Amory exists, I will need to let them in. Besides, it has been two weeks since I’ve last seen Sarai and my heart aches.
As I approach Renatus’s oceanside compound on horseback she sprints towards me. Before I can dismount, she leaps up onto my horse and lands in my lap, kissing me before any words are spoken.
“I wasn’t sure you were going to return,” she says hesitantly.
“You’re the one place I’ll always return to,” I reassure her.
“How did it go?”
I don’t want to go into details, just knowing she is onboard is enough for me.
“We shall see,” I reply. “Your father, how is he? Has he asked about me?”
“Once or twice, in fact I think he is very keen on seeing you. Is something going on?”
Again, I don’t tell her about Amos, I don’t want to worry her.
“Nothing.”
“He did say he wanted to dine with us tonight upon your return.”
“Good, I’m famished,” I smile at her, hiding my worry, but she’s not buying it.
“What is it Asher?”
I look out to the ocean and watch the powerful waves crash upon the rocks. I want to turn the horse around and take off with her on it. To leave this place, return to The Middle with her. Hide somewhere and simply just live out our lives.
“You ever wonder why we worry?”
She looks at me like I have lost it.
“I mean, if God has a plan for us, and if things were meant to be, then why is it that we worry, fear shouldn’t exist right?”
“But bad things still happen,” she retorts.
“Yes, but is that meant to be, or is that our freewill in action?”
“I don’t know. What are you getting at Asher?”
I touch her face. “Sarai, if anything happens to me, it’s up to you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Cephas can’t do it alone. He needs someone on the inside, someone strong, someone who doesn’t believe in all of this Lazurite nonsense, someone who will stand up to Renatus, someone who understands the Lazurite people as well as my people.”
“That’s not me Asher. I’m not equipped to be that person, I’m not a leader. Besides, nothing is going to happen to you.”
Yet, she is that person. She doesn’t see what I see. I hold her tight as if her body could absorb my vision of her. Like life, the wind picks up and swirls decaying leaves around us, blowing them indiscriminately across our feet, and I think of my uncle, my parents, The Defiance, Renatus, my own floundering emotions and realize that, ironically, The Wall and Sarai are my only two constants in life, the only two things I can rely on. The former I hope to bring down; I only pray I don’t lose the latter in the process.
Three hours later we dine on imported delicacies prepared by world class chefs. I am dressed in casual wear, so is Sarai. Renatus, in full military garb, takes notice, but hides his annoyance.
“Feel good to be back?” Renatus asks me.
I grab Sarai’s hand. “Nothing like Zion,” I lie.
“And tell me Amos, did you have a productive patrol? Accomplish anything of note?”
“More of a training mission than anything else.”
Renatus wipes his greasy lips and snorts, “I am sure you heard by now my first army discovered The Defiance headquarters and burned it to the ground.”
“Yes, I heard. Congratulations.”
“Victory is close young Amos, can you feel it?”
I simply nod.
“Tell me Amos the Great, what training is your army doing? I thought those troops were already top notch.” His tone is derisive. Does he know? Or is he just in a surly mood?
“We are still meshing. Their training isn’t complete. As you know we have a lot more conscripts than professionals. I need more time. More weapons.”
He licks his fingers and smacks his lips. “I did hear you cleverly avoided an ambush. You have great instincts Amos the Great, much like a wolf.”
Someone inside my army is reporting on my every move. Why am I not surprised?
“Are you a wolf Amos the Great?”
My leg begins to shake, Sarai gulps her wine, and I wonder if she too finds this line of questioning odd, or if this is just Renatus being Renatus.
“I don’t understand the question sir.”
“I told you not to call me SIR!” He slams his fist angrily against the table. Sarai grips my hand, she knows something isn’t right.
“Sorry Renatus, military habit.”
“Do you know Zion’s policy on treason?” he asks rhetorically.
“Death,” I answer quietly.
“Turns out boy that our weaknesses are the same,” he says.
