Manifest Desitiny 24
Jul 02 '09 (Updated Jul 05 '09)
The Bottom Line Two foes find commonalities between one another in the backdrop of war...
24 – The Commons
Private McNally, his feet sore from the aimless wandering in the dark, lowered himself onto the dusty floor. He leaned against a single rail, pulled out his canteen and swung it to his lips. Nothing, save a tiny droplet came out.
“Ah Hell,” he cursed, eyeing the interior of the canteen but to no avail.
“Out eh?” Isaac commented, becoming overcome with fatigue. McNally nodded.
“I wish I had my damn communicator device on me. Lost it just a few hours ago when I was taken hostage by your people. Damnit, they must got it.”
“No rations left?” asked Isaac, his stomach beginning to churn. McNally shook his head.
“No. Zip.”
“Looks like you’ll have a dead hostage by the time you get to your base,”
Shawn McNally shook his head. “No, no. I won’t be taken no hostage.”
“Hmm?” Isaac murmured as relieved as he was confused.
“When we’re out of here. When we get to the street, or a station or whatever…you get the Hell out of my sight. I’ll get the Hell out of yours.”
“Why? Why do-“
McNally waved his hand, frustrated. “Do you question everything? Do you question when someone spares you’re a$$?”
“No,” Isaac replied, his voice lowered. “No, I don’t. I…thank you.”
“I’ve—I’ve…” McNally’s voice wavered slightly. “I’ve had enough. Enough of this war! This damn war…I’ve tried, really, always tried to do good. I try to live by the Bible, by Jesus…tried to fight for my country and spread what we have there to other places. I cant…cant do good like this…not like this.”
Isaac remembered something. He carried two cigarettes in his back pocket. He pulled them out and presented them to his companion. McNally tried to smile at the offer.
“I don’t smoke…at least try not to.” He hesitated for a moment, then grabbed one of the cigarettes.
“Don’t know what my life is right now. Damn…just want to get home.” “
Got a light?” asked Isaac.
There was a brief pause. “Damn.”
“Ok, no light then, buddy,” the Canadian lamented. He felt comfortable around the soldier now. “Flamethrower?”
McNally managed a smile finally. “No, nothing. I’m sure there’s something in flames somewhere on the surface.”
“Keep your cig then and keep your eyes out.” The soldier nodded.
“Yeah.” Isaac relaxed slightly. “You say you want to do good in this world?” McNally, placing the cigarette in his lips, nodded. “I always meant to. I thought this was it, but in the past days alone I’ve seen too much terror, too much bloodshed…I don’t know. I don’t even know.”
“Join us.” McNally’s eyes went wild. He stood up. Some part of him wanted to push Isaac down, slam his weapon’s butt against his face. It was a small, but loud part. This part of him kept cool and he remained silent and still.
“Until we’re out of here, I’m in charge. Follow me. Let’s get the f*ck out of here.”
Isaac sighed, placing a hand over his face. He knew he shouldn’t have just said what he did. He knew this American trooper, he was contemplating things, realizing the moral bankruptcy of his ways, of his nation’s ways, but asking him to defect? It was too soon to ask that. Isaac and his people were still terrorists in McNally’s eyes. One may choose to abstain from warfare…but to join one’s enemies? That was quite another story. He stood up and followed McNally, eager to get out. In the darkness Isaac briefly thought he heard something, a sound like a motor in the distance.
“Come on,” said the soldier. “You’re not a freeman till we get out of here.”
Isaac nodded. “Until we’re out of this underground railroad. Gotcha.”
McNally muttered something then looked about; “There’s got to be a way out of here. We’ve been walking this same direction for, like half an hour now, or more.”
“Up in this end of the city, in the North, the station’s are pretty far apart. We’ll get there soon, trust me.”
Isaac walked up ahead, now in the lead, although in the near pitch-black there was nowhere to lead but straight ahead.
“I guess I have to trust you,” McNally mumbled. “Hey…what is your name again?” “Isaac.”
“Ah yeah, from the Bible…” The soon to be freed hostage suddenly thought of Dayne.
“Call me Ice.”
“Nah.”
A pause of conversation ensued as the two continued forward at a quick pace, becoming more impatient when nothing but an empty tunnel continually stood before them. Isaac sighed, his feet hurting, he wanted to dip them in cold water. The cold air of the passageway cooled the sweat that layered his entire body. He wanted to jump into a swimming pool, or a lake. Suddenly, he remembered when he was sixteen going to a friend’s cottage up in Muskoka country and skinny dipping in the lake alone. He had had a few beers and a hit from his friend’s weed pipe and felt totally free and uncaring. Athena came out, back then they were only friends, introduced by their mutual friend. He supplied the cottage, the lake, the booze and the weed. It was a weekend to remember. Athena, in his mind’s eye, stood at the dock. Her face was beautiful and he had not noticed how beautiful until that night. He beckoned her in. She seemed hesitant at first, as she hadn’t brought a bathing suit. It didn’t take her long to improvise, as she soon got exactly what Isaac had had in mind. She had only met this boy a few days before, but somehow she felt it did not matter and removed her clothes, leaping into the dark lake water. Within seconds the two were joined in their first kiss. He snapped out of his memories, as wonderful as they were. The young man that walked alongside him was part of the invasion force that claimed the life of Athena, his first and only love. Isaac felt rage at his ignorance, his blind belief that he and his army were committing good deeds to the people, yet he knew he could not be blamed. The ignorance of many led to this war, but the individual, Isaac felt, is not to blame. He removed himself from the hate, unwilling to blame a mere peon for the crimes of his masters. He too was a victim of the injustices. Isaac felt that the soldier felt the same way about him. Why else would he agree to let him go? Isaac quickly came to the conclusion that if there was a way to help him, a way to repay him, not as an enemy combatant in this war, but as a human being…then he would do it.
“Stop!” McNally’s voice broke the silence. His tone softened into a hoarse but steady whisper. “Stay where you are.”
Isaac froze. “What?”
“Shhh..” the soldier took two steps forward then shot into the darkness. Something was hit and a brief buzzing sound was heard followed by a sharp clash of metal. McNally laughed in relief, racing into the darkness to retrieve the fallen item. “A drone.”
“Oh,” answered Isaac walking over to his side. Indeed a metallic object, shaped like a two-legged stool had collapsed on the railway.
“These things are in here with us eh?”
“They are routinely released in tight spots, as far as I know,” replied the soldier, overlooking the deceased piece of machinery. “I don’t know too much about them, always been over my head with this tech sh*t, bought years ago from the Japanese, ain’t even American made…got some trade deal with the Japs. They keep the Chins in order at least for us and them Koreans. I reckon this is one of the S-3 Units, more or less scouts…they shoot anything that moves though. Lucky it didn’t see us in time.”
Isaac sighed in relief now that he realized his life had just been saved and noticing the two tiny guns on the drone.
“Those are some rapid fire guns, buddy,” McNally said.
“Damn, who knows what the hell else is down here? Hope your people don’t have any hidden drones themselves huh? You know of any big turret gunners or any of that?” Isaac shrugged. “If I knew I wouldn’t be able to tell you.”
“All our bases are armed to the teeth with turrets. They’re controlled by a central control room. Damn,” he lifted the drone with both hands, finding it surprisingly light. “This model is pretty easy to kill I find. We always find them in the woods…we keep them there, in case rebels are around.”
“I see,” Isaac tried to control himself so as not to let his companion realize that he relished hearing the secrets of the occupying army. He was also relieved he had never run into any of these drones in the ravines earlier. “How do you—how do you detect these drones?”
“They emit a soft buzzing noise, like a motor. I guess I gots good ears.”
“Let’s hope they hold up, because our eyes aren’t too useful down here,” said Isaac, letting lose a smile. “We’d best be going then eh?”
McNally nodded, dropping the drone and picking up his weapon.
“Yeah, can’t be far now.” “Thanks.” McNally turned to face Isaac with an expressionless stare, then merely nodded and turned about again.
“Let’s go.” Isaac decided to stay behind the trooper from now on. He had figured that the distant motor sound he had heard earlier must have been the drone. A mere moment later he heard it again, however, and recognized this as distinct from the last sound. It sounded less soft, more likely emitting from a larger object. He could not tell if it was in the distant before them or behind them, though. The sound seemed to fade, while Isaac kept pace with McNally, careful to only keep a foot or two behind, while in his mind he imagined colossal killer drones summoned from every science fiction movie he’d seen as a kid. “
Damn it!” Don slammed his fist on the vehicle’s hood. “Where the hell is he?”
“Ice!” Dayne’s voice echoed through the tunnel. “Damn it, if we keep like this we’ll get found by someone, or something. There could be drones around here, especially once they figure out we’re using these tunnels all the time.”
“How much time we got left?” Don motioned to his wrist, though he wore no watch. “I think we only got like twenty minutes, man,” replied Dayne. “Sh*t, we ought to be there, getting ready with the others. Look, let’s just hit Wilson, then we’ll go back.” Don shook his head. “Late for our final battle eh?” “I don’t leave a man behind, especially someone like Ice. I tell you, he’ll be an asset we can’t afford to lose. Trust me.”
“Hurry up then.” The vehicle sped over the rails, bouncing on every rung, the headlights only shooting out a mere five feet in front of it. They hit something and bounced up higher than usual. Dayne gripped hold of the steering wheel, steadying themselves and frantically pounced his foot on the break. “What the hell was that?” cried Donald, his hands shaking.
“Get out!” said Dayne quickly, leaping onto the rail, his assault rifle in hands. He pressed the light on the end of his barrel on and cautiously made his way over the object they had just run over. Don grabbed the pistol out of his belt and a flashlight, shining it on the mysterious bulk.
“Oh, it’s just a drone…a dead drone.”
“Sh*t!” spat Dayne.
“They must know we are using these tunnels then. We gotta let HQ know about this after tonight. We’ll probably have to relocate soon.” Don murmured. “We either do or die tonight.” He walked over to the drone, its round head (if it could quite be called that) smashed in, its inner wiring and chips revealed. “Hmm…just a recon unit, looks like.” “Alright then, f*ck it, let’s go.”
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