Revolutionary - Elaina H (each kindness read aloud txt) 📗

he heard yelling and crying. “Great,” he muttered under his breath. He went to the back of the little apartment, and found his niece, Carrie, crying her eyes out in her crib. “Come on, Carrie.” Kyle hoisted her out of her crib, and balanced her on his hip and he slowly made his way towards the yelling.

            “I can’t even believe you’d say that, Jared!” Claire screamed.

            “Oh please,” Jared scoffed, “you could not have expected me to say. Oh sure, go ahead, Claire, and get yourself killed! I’ll take care of Carrie and when she’s old enough I’ll tell her how you died!”

            Claire gasped and glared at Jared, Kyle watched from behind the corner knowing that his brilliant plan is the cause of this fight. “Ever since we married, Jared,” Claire continues, “I’ve been the perfect wife. I stay pretty safe and I only go when I’m needed. I’ve gone to raids before, why is this any different.” Claire’s voice had taken on a pleading tone and Jared grimaced.

            “Claire, you know why. I can protect you on those raids. I’m right there beside you. This, it’s different. the chances of you making it back home are slim. It’s scary. Carrie just turned one. Don’t you want her to remember you?”

            Claire nodded her head, and Kyle knows he’s lost. “Yes, but I’m putting the good of the people ahead of the good of our family. I need to do this, Jared. It’s important.”

            Jared frowned and looked toward the ceiling, “Kyle, you can come out. I’d like to hold my daughter,” Claire said suddenly.

            Kyle cursed under his breath and stepped out of the shadows. “Sorry, I just went and got her and…” Jared and Claire both held up hands to stop him form talking.

            He handed Carrie over to his sister, and she kisses her baby on the cheek. “I love you, Carrie,” she whispered. After a few minutes, Claire spoke again. “When are we leaving, Kyle?”

            Kyle thought about whether or not he was going to move the date up. No. He’s give his sister plenty of time to say goodbye, “We’ll leave in three weeks.”

            He turned on his heel, and rushed out of the apartment and back towards his closest friend’s barrack.  

            “Carlos!” Kyle shouted into the dark room.

            Kyle heard mumbling from the back corner of the room, and he lit the lamp by the front door. “Come on, get up. Claire agreed to go we have to go talk to the other, we have to start planning.”

            “Cuando estamos saliendo?” Carlos groggily rubbed his eyes and yawned.

            Kyle breathed heavily, “Carlos, English please!”

            “Lo siento,” Carlos said this time with a teasing grin on his face, “When are we leaving?” He threw the blankets off of himself, and began lacing up his shoes.

            “I told Claire we’d be leaving in three weeks. That should give us plenty of time to pack up supplies and ready ourselves for departure.” To himself, Kyle thought about readying himself to die, but he didn’t say that out loud. He couldn’t have those negative thoughts going into an important mission like this.

            Carlos made his bed and began following Kyle out of the barrack, “So, have you told everyone else? And what did Travis’ mother say?”

            Kyle’s lips started to turn down, “I haven’t had a chance to talk to Travis’ mother, but I’ve been thinking about it quite a bit. He’s one of the best assets we have, but he’s awful young, Carlos…” Kyle let his sentence drift off, he knew Carlos knew what he was saying.

            With a heavy sigh Carlos replied, “You know, if I wanted to go that badly, I’d find a way to make it happen. Ultimately, it’s the kid’s decision. He doesn’t have to go if he doesn’t want to.”

            The wind was picking up and it was making the air crisper, and Kyle shiver slightly, “Who do you want to talk to first?”

2382 April 22: 1200 hours

            “Are you kidding me!” Warren tried hard to turn the wheel that would flame the fire for the blacksmith, but it wasn’t budging. Great. This is just what he needed.

            Warren squatted down and began examining the mechanics of the wheel system, it couldn’t be that difficult.

            Sweat ran down Warren’s back and down his temple. This damn room was too hot! How was anyone supposed to focus on their work when it was hot as Hades! Warren angry worked with gears before he heard something click. “This better work,” he muttered to himself.

            Warren stood and heaved the wheel into rotation; he felt the gears click and the wheel spin. Amazing. He’s managed to accomplish something important in this good for nothing shop. He released the wheel and it continued to move just as it was supposed to. Maybe he’s get a bonus from Mr. Fairing, probably not, but it never hurt to hope.

            The door at the front of the shop smacked open, and a great gust of wind blew through, threatening to put the fire out. Warren held his breath as the strong wind battered the weak fire, but the fire held strong.

            The door closed, and he heard light footsteps tread through the shop. “Hello,” an airy feminine voice called out.

            Warren stood up straight and tried to wipe the slick, black oil off his hands, “Hi, how may I help you?” he asked.

            The girl jumped when she heard his voice, and smiled uncomfortably, “My father sent me down to pick up the daggers he asked to be made.”

            “Alrighty, what’s your name?” Warren asked as he walked over to the wall of finished weaponry.

            The girl cleared her throat, “Carter.”

            Warren paused and gave the girl a curious look, “Why would William Carter need daggers? He has one of the strongest offensive abilities in the camp?” Warren couldn’t possibly come up with an answer to his question, and he patiently waited for the girl to reply.

            He voice was nervous and slightly scared, “There for me. I need them.” Warren eyed the girl and marveled at the possibility that one of the strongest men in the camp could have a weak child.

            “Do you not have an offensive ability like your father?” Warren was nosy, and he knew it, but there was no shame in simply asking questions.

            The girl glared at him and frowned, “It’s none of your business!” she snapped. He held out the four daggers he had made last week to the girl and she snatched them from his rough, calloused hands. “Thank you very much,” she said not quite nicely as she exited the building.

            As the door slammed Warren’s thoughts began to turn fuzzy and his head felt full like it was ready to implode. The dizziness hit before Warren could sit down and he collapse to the ground.

            The blonde headed woman glared down at Kyle. “You will reveal your location before I’m done with you, rebel.” She pulled a knife from inside her military jacket, and walked slowly towards Kyle. “Are you ready to give your location yet? You still have a chance to cooperate before I damage you face forever.”

            A small smile started on Kyle’s lips, “Show me what you got, baby.” The woman sneered and her hand whipped out slashing him across his right cheek.

            “The fun has just begun, rebel. Do not think that you will win this game because you will be severely disappointed when the Territories eliminate you and your revolutionary friends as well.” She picked up another weapon from a table to the left of Kyle. It looked like a pen, but at the tip, instead of a point, was a mace like device.

            The girl sneered wickedly and shoved the spiky pen into Kyle’s ear canal.

            His screams echoed through the metal corridors followed by a malicious laugh that could only be that of his torturer.

            Warren pulled out of the vision, and his head began to clear. His breath was quick and ragged. That was there fate. They were destined to fail.

            Kyle was the only one in the torture chamber was it right to assume that the others and himself were already dead?

            Warren scrambled to his feet and did the only thing he could do. He ran out of the shop. He had to find Kyle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2382 May 1: 1300 hours

 

            Veronica wanted to kill something. Anything. She even debated killing the General of the West. He simply had to be kidding. Veronica stared at the rebel the general had sent her.

            This man he must have been at least ninety. At least! She breathed deeply through her nose, “Sir, can I ask you one question?” This was pointless, completely and utterly pointless.

            “I don’t see why not, although you’re being pretty nice to me. I mean, aren’t ya supposed to be my torturer and all?” the old wizened man chewed on his lip and hacked up a lugie.

            Veronica frowned, “Don’t push you luck old man!” she snapped. “Are you ever going to break when I torture you?”

            The ancient man laughed wildly, “You sure are a smart one! I’m almost ninety-six years old! I ain’t got a penny to my name and every one I used to car about is waiting for me on the other side. If I told you a single thing I’d be a traitor to the only good people left on this planet.”

            Veronica’s head dropped into her hands. This had to be a joke. She’d been so excited when the general had contacted her and informed her that they would be a rebel soon delivered to her. Now, sitting in front of her, she had a pointless old man. “What do you suppose I do with you?” she said slowly.

            The man cackled, “Well, I am mighty hungry!” it was at this point when Veronica noticed something. She assumed the man was oblivious to what she was witnessing, but she saw it. How could she not have noticed sooner?!

            Beneath the old man’s chair was a layer of ice; about one inch think, and solid. She cleared her through, “I’ve decided you’re useful yet,” she growled.

            The man’s smile faded, and he followed Veronica’s eyes to the base of his chair. His eyes widened, and his mouth slacked open. “What???” he said confused.

            But Veronica could tell he was lying, it was obvious. He knew exactly what was happening. “Sir, I suggest you explain to me what you just did, or I swear you’ll regret the day the General of West sent you hear.”

2082 April 29: 700 hours

            Soldier Thompson stared ahead into the fog. His hands were shaking, and he looked left and right. The fog was so the thick in the West that he couldn’t even see the men next to him. They had received news that there was going to be a rebel attack soon.

            His breath was coming out fast and hot, it was causing his air mask to fog up. He was going to have to fix that before the rebels attacked.

            Thompson didn’t know how they figured the rebel attack out, but he assumed they had some reasonable way of discovering the information. He readied his weapon for the third time in the last half hour. He’d sworn he’s heard something. Although the chances were high that it was an animal as it had been the last few times.

            He lowered his weapon, and raised his hand to rub his eyes. It was then that Thompson heard a loud high pitch shout, and a gun shot shortly followed.

            Quickly, he raised his weapon. His eyes searched frantically for the rebels. Sweat and tears began to sting his eyes. He couldn’t die. Not yet!

            A figure emerged out of the fog, they held a stick with fire on the end. Were they planning to burn the village down? As the person came closer, Thompson raised his