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Episode
058 “Principles
have no real force except when one is well-fed.”
The men moved with a methodical, clock-like motion that was both
unnerving to watch, and yet strangely captivating. They moved the crates
off the truck with a relentless monotony, while the darkness of the city
night seemed to be kept at bay by the bright dock lights and the distant,
drained street lamps that lined the city’s veins.
“That’s the shipment.” Marilyn said, looking around the
corner of the building. She brushed her hands over the deep red brick of
the corner, feeling its’ rough edge as she gripped down on it, as if
strangling her own fear. “It’s got to be.”
Up above, a roll of thunder came out from the clouds.
“How do you want to do this?” Malcolm asked, looking back at
Marilyn as she turned from the corner. “We need evidence.”
“Right.” Marilyn said. She looked at everyone with pale eyes,
the night’s exhaustion catching up with her inspite of the rush of
excitement. She looked to Victor and Ruwani. “Have you guys got your
cameras?”
“You know it.” Victor said proudly, his camera hanging in front
of him from the neck strap. Ruwani, who stood next to him, simply nodded.
“Mar, I don’t know if the cameras will help.” Malcolm said,
peeking back around the corner, kneeling down by the wall. “That looks
just like any old regular delivery.” He stood up, turning back to the
group as they stood together in the darkness, a block away from the site.
“I don’t know if pictures of a bunch of guys unloading a truck will
really do much good.”
“Well, what can we do?” Marilyn asked, looking at the group.
“We need proof.”
A roll of thunder came from the clouds.
“Come on, guys.” Marilyn said, emphatically. “I know we can
think of something. This is our big chance. This is our chance to put the
Alliance on the map. This is our chance to really hit these drug-dealers
hard.”
“If you want evidence,” Alan said, almost unwillingly. “Then
we need to see the drugs.” He looked at Kim, holding him close in his
arms. He sighed. “That means we’ve got to get inside that warehouse.”
Lightning flashed.
Lightning flashed.
Everett sat on his weight stand, staring out the window. The
completed set of weights sat heavily on his bench, the multitude of plates
on the single bar, while the smaller dumbbells littered his living room
floor. But at the moment, he was just staring out into the storm.
On the large hill where his apartment was half-buried, he could see
the clouds as they rolled into the city. The trees waved and fluttered in
the wind as the storm made it’s way through the sky, it’s dark clouds
blocking out the eternal stars from high above.
Everett sat back, the sweat still dripping from his chin. He stared
into the distance, stared at the clouds. They were all swirling and
churning, as if conscious and sentient, heading towards the very center of
the city.
Another roll of lightning flashed.
Another roll of lightning flashed.
Armand ran the whetstone over the long blade of his brand. He
listened meditatively as the ring of the motion echoed off the white walls
of the bedroom in his and Everett’s apartment. He looked down at the
spotless, cleaned blade as he drew the whetstone over it again. Harsh,
slate gray to flawless steel, the two tools seemed so different from each
other.
Armand looked up, looking out the small window as he sat on Everett’s
bed. The sky outside seemed ominous and inviting. It was a night when
something would happen, that much was clear. Armand put the stone aside
for a moment and kept looking out.
Another roll of lightning flashed.
Another roll of lightning flashed.
Alan hugged Kim close to him, keeping her within his arms. She
hugged back, her eyes nearly closed as she stared into the distance, at
the edge of the building that the docks were connected to. Alan and Kim
both watched in silence, waiting.
Meanwhile, in front of them, Ruwani stood by the edge of the
building watching with worry and fear. She could see the truck. She could
see the factory. She could see the last of the men disappear inside. She
could see everything. She could see how it would all fall apart.
“If there’s trouble,” She whispered back to Alan and Kim, but
still speaking to herself. “If there’s trouble, then we bolt, we get
back to the cars and we head back to the university and we call the police
from there.”
“There’s not going to be any trouble.” Kim said childishly,
hoping desperately. She looked at Alan, then to Ruwani. “There isn’t
going to be any trouble. There isn’t.” She said, her tears seeming as
eminent as the rain. “Is there?” She finally squeaked.
Alan didn’t answer.
Ruwani didn’t answer.
Another roll of lightning flashed.
Another roll of lightning flashed.
The large man in the delivery truck sat behind the wheel, dazing a
bit. His hat was covering most of his head as he sat back, leaned against
the seat, snoring slightly. Sitting in the closed cab of the truck, he was
unaware of the world around him, unaware of the shadows that darted past
his front wheels.
Marilyn kept down low, with Victor and Malcolm behind her. Bringing
up the rear, Brian moved as quietly and as quickly as he could. Easily the
largest of the four, he was still able to stay on par with their stealth.
The four rushed right up to the edge of the delivery van, staying
where it met the loading pay. Marilyn took a quick second to glance around
the area that they were now in. “Where’s the road out?” She
whispered, looking at Malcolm.
“Huh?” He breathed, his voice barely audible.
“The road.” She said, looking around. “We’re near the
river, but I can’t remember which of the roads lead to the bridge and
which one leads back to the university.”
“Why are you worrying about that now?” Victor asked, his voice
shaking, seemingly from the warm air.
“Because if we need to run, we need to know which direction.”
Malcolm answered, understanding Marilyn’s question finally. “If we try
to run over the bridge, we’ll most likely get caught.”
“I won’t.” Victor said, his voice still shivering.
“Right.” Malcolm said, rolling his eyes.
“Okay.” Marilyn said, looking at the three that squatted down
with her. She kept her mouth shut for a moment, and listened. She could no
longer hear any steps, except from the distant, closed doors to the actual
factory. “I’ll go up first and get into the van.” She said.
“No.” Victor said. “You can’t go up first.” He looked at
Malcolm. “You should go. You’re the president.”
“Fine.” Malcolm said. He moved forward before Marilyn could
protest. Brian moved to be ready to follow. “I’ll go up first and then
we’ll . . .” His voice stopped cold. His eyes were gazed up onto the
ledge of the dock.
At the sound of his fading words, Marilyn and Victor looked up
also.
Lightning flashed and the thunder rolled.
“Good evening.” Came a voice. Standing
on the lip of the dock was a well-dressed man in loose, functional clothes
that looked like a suit. His hair was slicked back, while his strong,
solid eyes were hidden behind glasses. He stood confidently just inches
from Malcolm’s head, his feet just before them, the tips of his feet
just barely hanging off the edge of the dock. Phillip
stood on the edge of the dock, his hard eyes staring down at the four of
them, his men, the soldiers of the Hand of the Brotherhood, lining along
his shoulders behind him. “I’m Phillip Assanti, the head of the
Miracle Worker’s Clan and the Leader of the Hand of the Brotherhood of
the Sun.” He looked at Marilyn, smiling a bit. “You must be the World
Alliance.” He said with a grin. “We
must be.” Malcolm said, staring in petrified horror. “How
delightful.” Phillip said, stepping back. “Welcome to the last night
of your lives.” He said, his grin only getting bigger. Without any look
or word, Phillip simply held up his hands. His smile turned from
anticipation to ecstatic joy. Without
any change in his posture or his eyes, he was suddenly addressing the
small army of men behind them. “Kill
them.” He said proudly. |