Forgotten Forbidden America | Book 8 | Sin Consumed, page 14
part #8 of Forgotten Forbidden America Series
“Damn it, don’t you start,” Hearst whispered harshly. “You’ve been closer to getting rid of the Sin Eaters than anyone, so don’t start doubting your actions now. We know you can do it because you’ve never let us down, Colonel.”
Not liking the veiled threat Hearst seemed to be delivering, Marshall gave a slight nod to the room of people. “Why are all of them here?” he asked.
Letting go of Marshall’s arm, “They were giving Gifford another briefing because I told them to,” Hearst answered. “Samuel calms down when people read off numbers and plans. He wasn’t chosen for his intelligence, as you well know, Colonel.”
“I sure hope you’ve told them whatever comes in this message shouldn’t be repeated,” Marshall warned, and Hearst busted out with a huge grin.
“Oh, I did, and I’ll know any that do,” Hearst answered slyly.
They both turned as Schmidt stepped over to them. “Colonel,” Schmidt nodded. “You have any idea why the Sin Eaters hit those distribution points?”
Shaking his head, “No, but I know I’m missing something,” Marshall admitted. “Yes, they hurt us, but not like other attacks. I’m still going over reports, but the Sin Eaters didn’t destroy as much equipment compared to other attacks.”
Staring hard at Marshall, “When was the last time you got real sleep?” Schmidt asked.
“I slept for six hours the other night,” Marshall answered, and Schmidt just arched an eyebrow. “General, when I hang Reaper up I promise you, I’ll take a month off.”
“Colonel, you’re the only one I trust to actually deal with the Sin Eaters,” Schmidt said. “The teams from Homeland and the FBI are jokes. The only way they’ll ever nail the Sin Eaters is if the Sin Eaters turn themselves in.”
Cracking a grin, “Yeah, I read the last FBI report and laughed for ten minutes,” Marshall admitted. “To actually propose the Sin Eaters are targeting the upper levels of government goes against everything they’ve done.”
Furrowing his brows, “Why?” Hearst asked.
Turning to Hearst, “Reaper wants to make sure those at the top witness the destruction the Sin Eaters are bringing,” Marshall answered. “In other words, he’s saving us for last.”
The room became quiet and Marshall glanced at his watch to see it was nearly 1400, and everyone moved to a place to sit. All the monitors along the walls displayed Gifford’s email account and right on time, a new message came in with two attachments.
Gifford clicked it open and the text read: Open the second one first, that is my message. The first is my offer. Reaper.
Gifford looked around the room and his eyes were heading for Greene, but Marshall cleared his throat. “Just hit play, sir. The message is here. Those dumb fucks at the bureau couldn’t catch a case of VD in a whorehouse,” Marshall declared, making many snicker around the room. Unlike any other time Greene didn’t seem to get nervous, he was getting mad.
Everyone turned to a screen, hearing Gifford click on the second attachment. A paused video opened and Marshall could see Reaper supine on a bed being propped up by pillows. The room was dark and Marshall couldn’t tell much about it, wanting to immediately send a copy to his team for enhancement. One thing he could tell, the bed wasn’t cheap as Gifford hit play.
“Ah, nothing like taking a moment to relax and reflect on our accomplishments,” Reaper sang out. “Because Marshall had been playing the game and was doing great work until this week, I’m going to give you a tidbit of info before I broadcast it. You have Marshall to thank for the warning, but if he had been paying attention, he would’ve figured it out before this warning.” All eyes were glued to screens. Because of the mask, the only thing that was moving on Reaper were his eyes blinking. If it weren’t for that, many would’ve thought the video a fake.
“Twenty-eight hours ago, in six locations, we poisoned trucks of water. I’ll leave it up to you to figure out what the poison is, but I will say, eight ounces of water in a full grown adult is one hundred percent fatal,” Reaper chuckled and still, the body barely moved as Reaper’s eyes stayed focused on the camera. “So, Marshall, you can inform Hearst there won’t be any need to haul those off that are sick, they’re going to die rather quickly. We decided to save Hearst some bullets.”
“Why am I telling you this before the broadcast? Because it’s part of the game, the game of sins,” Reaper said in a flat voice. “Marshall, you’re slipping,” Reaper said sitting up, and the camera zoomed back. “This is the video that will be broadcast this evening.”
The image blinked to show Reaper standing beside a semi-truck with a tanker trailer. “Hey, little feebs,” Reaper laughed. “Can you guess what the Sin Eaters have done for all of you worthless fucks?! By the time you see this, many will be walking around but already dead. All of you are just sins we’re going to consume. Even now, none of you regret the choice you made to follow the dark path of socialism. The only thing any of you regret is you’re having to suffer while doing the work.”
Seamlessly, the scene changed to another camera view as Reaper turned, keeping his eyes on the camera. “Don’t worry, those that’re already consumed will display it for all to see. It’s quite painful and if you’re experiencing the symptoms, you’re going to die horribly and painfully. There’s no antidote and the only release is death,” Reaper paused and it was very clear from his eyes, Reaper was grinning. “Death can take up to ten days to find you, but find you it will, and you’ll just become another sin consumed. So enjoy this gift from the Sin Eaters, federal citizens! We’ll be bringing you so much more!”
The video stopped and once again, Reaper was sitting up on a bed in a dark room. “Marshall, I’m just shocked,” Reaper snapped. “I have no idea why you pulled out of that ambush, but I know it was you. My scouts found the spot. Your other teams have no imagination when setting up in ambush, so I know it was you. If you had stayed instead of running off, we would’ve met on a field of combat. But no, you had to run off for the engagement. You must stay focused.”
Trembling with rage, Marshall knew what ‘engagement’ meant. When word had come down his team made contact with the Sin Eaters, he’d pulled out of his ambush and hauled ass. To Hearst and others, all they could think of was when Gifford had called him back after the rocket attack.
“Now Marshall, I’ve never given you permission to allow others to play this game,” Reaper said, and the image blinked. A new scene showed a line of severed heads on frozen ground in bright daylight. In front of each head was a badge.
Again, the scene changed back to Reaper in the dark room sitting up on the bed. “If you allow others to play in this game, I’m not going to continue. This is against you and me, to show the world none can compare to a Sin Eater,” Reaper said and then pivoted, swinging his legs off the bed to sit on the side as the camera moved to keep in front of him.
“They’re incompetent and don’t deserve to play this game. In two days, I’ll release the video of the time those agents spent with the sisters,” Reaper chuckled. “I have to say, each was begging for death after the first five minutes, but the sisters like to toy with their sin before consuming it. If this happens again, I will take drastic steps and remove entire departments, families first of course, but they will all be removed. Let’s see how your serfs deal with that?”
In the Oval Office, not even the sound of breathing could be heard as all listened to Reaper when he paused. Reaching over to a bedside table, Reaper pulled off a picture frame to look at it. “This will be the last time I show you your mistake, Marshall,” Reaper said, looking at the picture.
The video blinked and showed a still image taken from up high over what looked like a farm turned into a truck stop. On the roofs of two huge barns, Marshall saw the Falcon logo and the Georgia flag. Instantly, he knew where that image was taken from and nearly yanked his pistol out to shoot the screen he was looking at when the image changed back to the video of Reaper.
Still looking at the picture he was holding, Reaper shook his head. “The Sin Eaters had better be your only priority, Marshall,” Reaper warned, still looking at the picture frame he was holding. “If you had been on the ball and caught the message left, you could’ve cut ten hours off the time the tainted water was out.”
Finally, Reaper took his focus off the picture and turned back to the camera. Because of the angle of the camera, they still couldn’t see what the picture was. “This struggle is epic and will be talked about for millennia, and until the end of mankind the Sin Eaters will be feared by any who try to destroy freedom again,” Reaper said. “I leave the decision up to you, Marshall. Do you try to save some of your serfs or just let them die? Either way, I don’t care. They are just sins to be consumed. At times you’ve been a good student, so I will allow you this small victory to the masses of serfs, or not. Your choice.”
Slowly, Reaper turned the picture frame to the camera and everyone heard a thump as Gifford fainted and slid out of his chair, crashing under the desk. “Gifford, why in the hell do you have a photo of yourself beside your own damn bed?” Reaper asked. “Sin Consumed,” Reaper ended and the video stopped, leaving a Sin Eater skull on the screen.
“Where was that?!” Hearst shouted running around the desk, but only after the video stopped. As Hearst slapped Gifford, others in the room shook their heads, not knowing where the video was taken or why Gifford had fainted.
“Major, call the chopper in,” Marshall commanded standing up, then moved over to the desk. “Reaper was at Camp David. In the president’s bedroom,” Marshall said as Hearst’s slaps woke Gifford up.
Looking up at Marshall, “Are you sure? I’ve been there and I couldn’t tell,” Hearst admitted.
“Trust me. I know that frame and the picture. I was there when it was taken,” Marshall said, and Hearst cocked his head. “It was at a private party Hollywood threw for Gifford his first year in office. He was the guest of honor so he got whatever he wanted, no holds barred.”
Shaking his head, “He allowed photos, again?” Hearst groaned.
“The photo by his bed is only a portrait. Unless someone was there, no one could know but yes, photos were taken but I… acquired them and had them destroyed,” Marshall answered.
“Now I know why Gifford wants you around because you always clean up the messes he makes, no matter what,” Hearst said as Gifford came to. Propping himself up on his elbows, Gifford had a look of utter panic. Before he said a word Hearst punched Gifford in the face, knocking him back to the floor.
Shaking his hand after the hit, “Your stupid ass has cost us another chance to take out Reaper,” Hearst snarled as Gifford covered his left eye where Hearst had punched him. Gifford made no attempt to block another blow and no one moved to protect the president from Hearst.
“Get the fuck up,” Hearst said, standing up and still shaking his hand from the hit. “I swear, if you broke my hand, I’m chopping off three toes,” Hearst threatened, and no one doubted he would do it.
Turning to Marshall, “Do we take action on what Reaper sent?” Hearst asked, then pointed at an admiral. “Go get me some ice for my hand now.”
As the admiral sprinted out the door, Marshall nodded. “Yes, put out to stop all water consumption and dump water at all sites. Have all trucks rinsed out, then run them hard to get water back to the population,” Marshall said.
Several in the room went to protest, but Hearst just raised his hand and all shut up. “Should we put out we discovered this before the broadcast?” Hearst asked.
“Yes, it will let the population know we interrupted a Sin Eater plot,” Marshall replied. “That was the purpose of this message. Reaper wants the population to know we’re fighting him.” Hearst froze shaking his hand, staring at Marshall in disbelief. “Sir, you’re thinking like a person, not an animal,” Marshall told him.
“Reaper wants to show the world nothing can stop the Sin Eaters, but we will. This was a mistake on his part. It returns credibility to us with the population,” Marshall explained, and Hearst’s face lit up with a broad smile.
“Those severed heads were members of the task force we set up with Homeland!” Greene blurted out.
“May I deal with Greene, sir?” Marshall asked with a sigh.
“No,” Hearst answered, turning to Greene. “Strip naked,” he ordered, and everyone gave a startle. “Greene, if you don’t strip, I’m calling in security to strip you and then gang rape your ass in front of everyone. Do I make myself clear?!” Hearst barked.
Slowly, Greene started undressing as Hearst turned back to Marshall. “I’ll find out the poison and relay it to you. Go do whatever you do and track this sick fuck down,” Hearst ordered. “Colonel, you do this and I’ll make sure the families double your family’s assets.”
“Like I said, I will get him, just don’t expect me to haul him back in chains in a week or so,” Marshall said.
“Sebastian, I don’t give a fuck if it takes you a year, just get the fucker,” Hearst grumbled, then turned to Greene who was now standing in boxers. “What part of naked don’t you understand?!” Hearst barked and Greene dropped the boxers. “For the next week, you will remain naked and at work. You aren’t even allowed to wear a coat. I will have members of my security with you to make sure, and anyone that laughs at you walking naked isn’t to be punished.” Hanging his head low Greene just nodded, trying not to cry.
“We’re ready, Colonel,” Bolton said behind him with all of Marshall’s stuff repacked.
“Go,” Hearst said and they bolted from the room.
Ten minutes later, Gifford was giving a press conference with a swollen left eye, but the make-up covered the forming bruise very well. Nearly two million in fed territory were tainted from the Sin Eater attack. Some were thankful the government had discovered the plot, but most of the water had already been consumed. No one would ever know. Despite the number tainted the suicide rate skyrocketed, going from a few thousand a day to tens of thousands a day.
Most of the population was sick from poor hygiene and lack of food, so many had stomach cramps which they took as being poisoned by the Sin Eaters. After seeing what those experienced that were actually poisoned, they chose suicide. Entire families would break holes in the ice of rivers and jump in or have mass hangings. Instead of losing two million from the water, the feds lost over eleven million in the span of ten days as diseases, famine, and thirst still killed rampantly among the masses. In later years, a category would be added that would be controversial, but it was the real killer that inflated the other numbers: hopelessness. Without hope, none had the will to continue on, with despair weakening their frail states further as hunger and disease wracked their bodies.
Chapter Eleven
Can a Sith be good?
It was the middle of February and in a state of shock, Brandy stared at the screen on her laptop. Playing on the screen was the broadcast Reaper had put out yesterday. The Sin Eaters had hit a center in New York and left nothing out of the broadcast. Estimates put just over five thousand in the building and the Sin Eaters had hit with true brutality. Taking out the guards, they’d flooded in through the main entrances with small groups blocking the fire exits.
With wide eyes Brandy watched Sin Eaters moving through the cavernous building, slaughtering. According to the analyst who’d studied the video, less than forty percent inside the building actually tried to flee. Those who did were shot, but Brandy didn’t need a report to tell her what her eyes were watching. Very few of those shot were killed outright.
Forming lines, Sin Eaters pulled out hand weapons and waded into the masses. The video showed images taken from cameras some of the Sin Eaters wore. Weapons ranged from swords, machetes, knives, one Sin Eater with a claymore, and Brandy had to rewind several times to be sure, but another Sin Eater had a butter knife.
One thing that stood out, the sixty percent who didn’t run just froze, waiting for the Sin Eaters to reach them. If the group had charged the Sin Eaters, Brandy wasn’t sure the Sin Eaters could’ve gotten away without losses, even if they’d used guns. But no one ever tried charging a Sin Eater. They had either fled or just waited for their fate.
Teams had reviewed the footage and were confident no more than two hundred Sin Eaters were in on the attack, and that’s what really shook Brandy. Over half in that building had been killed by hand and the Sin Eaters were done in seventeen minutes. Not all were killed because the Sin Eaters wanted word to spread by mouth, and it was damn sure spreading.
When the video ended, Brandy hit the play button again to watch it for the fifth time in a row. For the first time, Brandy felt remorse for those in the federal states. Watching the haunted faces looking up as a Sin Eater approached with a sword, the only emotion Brandy could decipher on the faces when the sword fell was: relief. Their suffering was over.
“Lord, have mercy on them,” Brandy breathed out as the video ended. This time she closed the laptop and tried to harden her heart, but still felt remorse for those they were fighting. Feeling lightheaded, Brandy looked up at the military staff around the table to find them all looking at her. “I’m okay,” she assured them.
“Yeah, Sin Eaters need to be classified as a weapon of mass destruction,” Reynolds said. “At one time, I doubted they could impact an entire theater. Now I’m wondering if they’re just going to kill everyone in the federal states before we even attack.”
Still feeling numb, Brandy opened her briefing folder and held up the first page with charts and graphs, reading it again. “I know I’ve asked and I’m asking again, are the analysts inflating these numbers?”
With a grave expression, “Nope,” Wagner answered. “Like I answered before, those numbers are the middle ground of their reports.”
“Lord in heaven,” Brandy panted, staring at the pages. First estimates before the New Year had predicted thirty million dead by March. They were now halfway through February and projections were forty million federal citizens had died since the Sin Eaters’ ‘Water Well’. A line graph of daily dead, Brandy just couldn’t comprehend the line hovering at the six hundred thousand range.
