Chapter Three

Her parents would have been mortified if they'd known how she was spending her few hours of free time, but she had a good VPN, or at least it was good enough to hide her activity from her non tech savvy elders. She doubted they'd ever suspect her of something

like this. Sasha was a good student. Her grades guaranteed her admission to the American University in d C. At one point, she'd had a shot at being her high school's valedictorian and maybe of gaining admission to Stanford, But then she discovered the True Gospel and given herself to Christ. Her grades were still good, but probably not good enough to earn her an educational visa to the californ in

your Republic. The extra time the old heir had dedicated to school was now spent glued to a gun camp browsing live feeds from various Christian militias and reading everything she could from the few pastors brave enough to preach the word the New Herd. Didn't want to go to school near San Francisco, capital of what Pastor Mike had called the world's most sinful nation. Sasha didn't even really want to go to college in d C. What was the point, Sash her dad called from the kitchen, dinners

on cheese Enchilada's. There was still nothing in her line of sight. For the eleventh month in a row. She was spending sixty five am fed dollars for the privilege of staring through a camera at nothing for a half hour a day. Sasha had been warned about this when she'd signed up to support the Woodlands Martyrs Brigade. Their drone guns didn't see much action. The front had been stable for the last year. Rumors said the number of backers had even gotten to fire during their turn was

under a dozen. Sasha had hoped she'd be a special case. Something moved. Just as she thought about killing the app and going downstairs, something moved across her drones field of vision. It happened again, and Sasha realized that the somethings were armored soldiers sprinting past her weapon. She locked the drone on one and for the first time ever, selected the fire approval button. A second went by, then another, and then a red box replaced her firing redicule. Target declined.

Friendly fire, Sasha, her mother called up in that grating voice that mint. She was almost frustrated enough to start yelling get down here. She stared at the box for another long moment. Friendly fire. That made sense as she belatedly realized the men had been rushing out of territory occupied by the martyrs. Good thing they check up on us before we pull the trigger. Her heart pounded a little at the thought of killing the wrong soldier. But at the same time she noticed something odd. The men

were still coming. They rushed past the drone camera in waves ten ft apart, ducking low and hefting heavy weapons. She must have watched at least a hundred of them, asked before she realized what this meant. A new offensive. Oh God, dial Alexander, she told her deck. A calm window popped up about six inches in front of her hand, to the left of the large drone control screen that

hovered above her. Anyone without a deck would have just seen a seventeen year old girl lying on her bed and poking at the air, But Sasha saw the space in front of her as a giant screen curved around her body. She opened another window and flung it up on her right side. It was populated with links to the camera feeds of all the personality she followed. Most of them were located somewhere in the Republic of Texas,

and more than half of the feeds were dark. It was hard to tell just what was happening on the others. Sasha decided she'd get a faster update on the situation through her news aggregator. She reduced the other windows and shifted them to her periphery. Then she opened a new window and waited a half second for her curated news feed to populate. Her deck kept ringing Alexander while she scanned the headlines reports of explo jans across the Dallas Front,

Texas extremists advance into stf Republic territory. Reports from Dallas suggested a new offensive by Heavenly Kingdom. A half dozen rings later, Alexander picked up Sasha. He asked his voice sounded distant. There was noise on the line. After a second or so, Sasha heard a boom and then a strange, crackling sound that had to be gunfire. It didn't sound like it did in the movies, or even in the

few VR shooters she'd played. Sasha's heart had started to pound by the time she responded, Yes, Alexander, I was just on my drone and it looks like something's happening. The media saying it's another offensive. They're right for once, said Alexander, and they're still wrong at the same time. This is something new, Sasha. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before, but it'll all be clear soon. Is this just the martyrs Brigade? He smiled, and Sasha's face went red. No, Sasha,

something wonderful is Are you near the front? Are you part of the fighting? Sasha interrupted, She'd never have done that normally, but she could hear what's outed like gunfire over his line, and Sasha was scared. I'm with the second wave, he said the tracks. I'm moving us into position now. I'll probably have to Whatever else he'd been about to say was cut short as all of Sasha's deck apps closed at once, her digital world was replaced by a red box that read parental lockdown. Come to dinner,

Sasha mom. She screamed down the stairs as her eyes welled up with tears at the unfairness of it all. Alexander, the man she was pretty sure she loved, was going into battle for the first time. He was fighting right now to re establish the rule of God on earth. I should have read him a poem or said something beautiful and stirring, something about how my love for him was as everlasting as God's own love. It should have been a powerful moment, but her heretic horror of a

mother had ruined it. For Inchiladas, Sasha stormed downstairs right with fury, but unable to vent it. Her parents couldn't know she'd been giving money to a militant group. They wouldn't have to drop in on her talking to Alexander to know what she had planned. Six kids from her high school had already left for the Republic of Texas to fight in one militia or another. It was a problem across the American Federation, but here in Virginia, parents

were particularly wary. The border of the United Christian States was just an hour's drive from her front door. Ratlines in the UCS brought thousands of young volunteers yearly from the heart of corporate America to the various militia groups that battled across Texas. Sasha Marian, What did we interrupt that was so important? You had to yell? I was praying, mother. It wasn't really a lie. Pastor Mike had said that every deed done in support of the heavenly Kingdom was

an act of prayer. Gwendolen Marian frowned back at her daughter. She was a stern woman with a broad Germanic face and dirty blonde hair pulled back into a severe bun. Faint crow's feet trickled out from her eyes, but those were from voice rather than times formerly inevitable march. Gwendoline was the chief of surgery at Annapolish General Hospital. She'd been taking juven treatment since she was twenty. She'd only decided to let the crow's feed through once Sasha had

turned seventeen. You can pray as much as you want, honey, but right now it's dinner time, and this is something we do as a family. Sasha thought juven was unnatural heretical God had created each human to age a certain way. Using science to disrupt that natural process was an act of blasphemy. She yearned to say something cutting hurtful in response, but she fought it down. You don't have to obey your father and mother if they try to keep you out of the Kingdom of Heaven, words from one of

Pastor Mike's weekly casts rang in her ears. But the Lord God still calls on us to respect our parents, he'd added that well behaved kids were the ones who caused the least suspicion and had the best chance of successful escape. Yes, ma'am, was all she said as the families settled into their chairs. Her brother, Ian was just five and unusually quiet for his age. He smiled at her as their father doled him out an enchilada sash. Who's Alexander, he asked, and Sasha felt the blood run

out of her face. Their father, Tony, smiled wrily at the remark as he spooned a proportionately larger serving onto his own plate. Alexander, Huh, maybe this means another boyfriend. It's been what four years? Tony had opted for fewer cosmetic jeven treatments than his wife. Sasha loved her father's receding hairline, his slight jowls, his graying hair. He was still a heretic, but at least he wasn't a vain one. He's not my boyfriend Dad, just a boy I talk

with sometimes. We pray together. Gwendolen rolled her eyes a little. Such an exciting adolescence you're having, she said. Sarcasm swelled every word. Sasha didn't rise to the bait. Her self. Control was iron now. She wouldn't give them any cause to worry or call the authorities. It was better even for them to think Alexander was some boy from school. If they thought her principles were thawing, they'd be less likely to suspect what he had planned. The Marryan family

ate companionably for several minutes. Tony talked about some cock eyed nut who'd come into his office at Deutsche Bank looking for a loan. He wanted three million to get this build a blimp to take tourists from the am Fed to Louisiana without crossing UCS territory. And I'm like, first of all, I can name a hundred boat charters to do the same thing and second. Sasha tuned most of it out and tried to focus on eating, But knowing Alexander was out there facing death for his faith

killed any appetite she otherwise might have had. She ate mechanically without really tasting it until her plate was almost clean. Sasha was planning her exit when her mother spoke up by the way. The school called today and said, you still haven't been by to get sized for your graduation robes. They need at least forty eight hours to print them out. You're running out of time. Sorry, mom, she said, I know that important. I've just had a lot on my mind lately. The f s T s were last week.

Sasha had gotten very good at telling her parents what they needed to hear without actually lying. The Federation Standardized Test had been last week, and she'd certainly had a lot on her mind lately, but the fs T hadn't been keeping her up at night. It was little more than a rubber stamp for a student like Sasha. That's okay, sweetie, Gwendolen said, I know how important your school work is to you. I just want you to have a fun graduation experience. That's important. There's a war going on a

few hundred miles from your door. Men are dying for God's kingdom, and you think school matters to me. But Sasha just smiled, told her mom she loved her, and went back upstairs to her room. As soon as it was politic to do so, she reactivated her VPN and popped her deck into stealth mode, which displayed a curated selection of websites and chat apps for her mom and

dad in case they came by. She drew a new Price of It window about two feet in front of her face and split it in half between a face calm with Alexander and a news feed full of her favorite militia press offices. Her jaw dropped Voice of the Prophet's main headline was Republic of Texas forces clashed with martyrs. Judgment day is here, she read in a social media post from one of her favorite sources in the area, a twenty something mechanic who lived on the fringe of

the Republic and supported the Heavenly Kingdom. He'd posted a picture of the Governor's mansion in Plano. It was burnt around several of the windows and riddled with holes. Gone was the Republic's flag replaced by a white banner with a burning black cross in the center. Sasha sent out another call request to Alexander and switched over to Al

Jazeera's feed to learn more. It galled her to use a news source run by Muslims, but she had learned from experience that Al Jazeera had the best reporters on the ground in the Republic. They negotiated coverage deals with

several of the militia groups, including Alexander's. The first thing she noticed was that their last article had gone up over an hour ago, but the titles of the foremost recent articles painted a vivid picture Republic capital in Galveston, burning, military coup, Republic media feeds go dark, SDF under attack. In Dallas, Pastor Mike Donnegan announces new offensive for Heavenly Kingdom. How could there possibly be a new offensive against the

secular forces in Dallas? The Richardson line had been locked in a stalemate for the last year. Alexander had told her often, how outnumbered and outgunned the martyrs of the Heavenly Kingdom were we hold in our own But only by the grace of God, was his usual refrain. The idea of them advancing again on the SDF seemed impossible. Nothing is impossible with God. She could almost hear Alexander's voice echo in her mind's ear. She glanced over at his chat screen, but it was still just showed the

standard dialing symbol. Frustrated, Sasha brought up her militia news feed. This was one of her most cherished possessions. It had taken months for her to sort out the most influential Christian militias in the area, find their official spokes feeds, and cross index them base on which groups agreed with the strict neo Calvinist doctrine she Alexander and Pastor Mike all knew to be the one true word of God.

And for the first time since she had started the feed, each and every militia she followed had posted the exact same message, The first battle of Armageddon has begun. Sasha was confused for a minute. She'd done her homework. She knew the final battle of the end Times was supposed to occur at Mount Meghito in Israel, but she thought back to Pastor Mike's sermons. He had talked about the

battles of Armageddon many times. The coming end times and the central place of the Heavenly Kingdom and the world's last battles were constant refrains in his sermons. Sasha had always believed the battles of Armageddon would come. She just thought they had more time. Sasha was frustrated and a

little hurt. Alexander must have known this was in the offing and kept it from her, she understood, of course, but she was furious at herself for being so far away from the action that he had been forced to hide this from her. The first battle of Armageddon was beginning just a few hours south of her bedroom. She could either stay here and rot in the American Federation, or prove God with her devotion and move there. It

didn't even seem like a choice. Really. If goodmen were fighting and dying to restore the Kingdom of God on earth, it fell to her to travel there and support those men. She thought of Alexander, his liquid green eyes, his scraggly beard, the way his still boyish voice broke in excitement when he lost himself in the spirit of the Lord. Her beloved was out there right now, fighting and maybe bleeding, to bring the truth back to the world. The least

she could do was join him. Weeks ago, Alexander had given her the contact information for a man named Brother Andrew. He called the other man a deliverer. Sasha knew her parents and the AMFID authorities would have described Brother Andrew as a people smuggler. She hadn't reached out to Brother Andrew yet. In her fantasy, she had always waited to

graduate before escaping to the Heavenly Kingdom. She was still a few weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday and had hoped to at least spin that with her parents before setting off. But right now, as she scrolled through articles about the martyrs breakthrough and immersed herself and snap bits of cheering soldiers raising cross banners over newly captured neighborhoods, Sasha felt a powerful anxiety overtake her. She needed to

be there. There was no other option. Sasha flicked open a window on the left side of her viewspace, typed in the address she'd memorized for Brother Andrew, and sent him a message, I am ready to go. Hey everybody, Robert Evans here. I hope you just enjoyed the chapter you listen to. I hope you enjoyed the chapters to come. If you would like to read the text version of this book either on the web or on your e reader as an e pub, you can find those on

the website a t r book dot com. So again, the free ad free e pub and the text of every chapter will be on a t r book dot com. Thanks