Chapter Twenty One

again and again and again. She didn't make the conscious choice to dive down on top of him, and in fact, Sasha was rather surprised to find herself straddling the prone, broken boy soldier. But once she was there, she kept hitting him until she felt his skull give way and the helmet had something soft, squishy and hot that lay beyond. She sat back and for what seemed like a year, just stared at the helmet and bedded in Alexander's ruined face. Blood pulsed out from around the edges where it met

the skin. The way the blood bubbled up looked just a bit like the water and one of the fountains outside the hospital, her mother ran. For some reason, that similarity did more to raise her hackles than the act of killing. Her ears still rang, and so it was easy to lose herself. In contemplation of Alexander's body. Her mind turned to the Book of John and the words of her Lord and savior, Jesus Christ. Do not be like Cain who belonged to the evil One and murdered

his brother? And why did he murder him? Because his own actions were evil and his brothers were righteous? Had Alexander's actions truly been righteous? Sasha knew if she searched the Bible she could find scriptural justifications for everything Alexander had done. That's why she'd come here in the first place, wasn't it The heavenly Kingdom was finally going back to the letter of the Bible, the Word of God. Only now that she'd seen what that looked like, Sasha had

found she could not abide it. Am I still a Christian? She couldn't say. Her faith had been such a part of her identity, it had been everything, and now it felt like a lie. What am I if not a righteous servant of the Lord? Where do I go from here? Eizash little problem here. Roland's voice jerked her out of her contemplation. She looked back at the man and her mind recoiled in terror. His skin had been shredded by gunfire. It hung in pale tatters down his face and arms.

His clothing had largely been shot away, and the rags that remained were so drenched in blood that they clung to him. He looked almost as if he was clad in a single giant scab one if his eyes was unfocussed, dislocated, and something had happened to his left arm, it looked as if an enormous straight razor had burst out of the forearm. Where did you get that? She asked. Sasha was surprised and a bit disturbed by her curiosity. Roland

seemed surprised too this. He looked at the blade. I really no, Ha'd sort of forgotten it was in there. He lifted his arm and its blood soaked blade up and looked at it like a small child opening a prized gift on Christmas morning. Then he flicked his arm down towards the ground, and the blade slid back into the meat of his forearm with a wet thwack. Look, he said, we got more press and shit to deal with right now. You're all those sirens. She actually couldn't.

Her hearing had begun to recover from the gunfight, but Roland was just barely audible. Allowed Tenita's hum still rang through her ears. Sasha was pretty sure she'd suffered permanent damage. I can't hear much right now, she said. The gunfire, you know. Oh, he frowned. I forgot that could happen to you folks. Well, ah, there's a shitload of cops or martyrs or militia whatever. A bunch of them are coming,

probably two or three hundred. They got tanks and drones and shit, God Almighty, Sasha felt fear rise up in her heart again. Yeah, listen, God's not really the dude to worry about right now. Manny's all fucked up. I stopped his bleeding, but you're gonna need to get him out of here. Manny, she'd forgotten all about him. Sasha realized with a start that she'd blotted the rest of the room from her mind. She looked around and took it all in. Manny was still lying where she'd left him,

nursing a gunshot wound to the belly. He was pale, sweaty, and he looked to be in terrible pain. But he was conscious and alive. That was more than she could say for Marigold. The poor woman had been shredded by shotgun fire. Sasha couldn't bring herself to look too closely at the shattered, steaming remains, But Marigold's friends were alive. The young man Rick was unconscious and drenched in blood, but most of that blood didn't seem to be his own.

His head was in Tullie's lap. She'd been wounded in the buttocks and bled quite a lot, but the wounds seemed to have clotted. There were tears and a haunted, pained look in her eyes. Oh my god, Sasha said, once her mind started to process the visual stimuli. Lord in Heaven, No, no, no, no, that poor woman, that unborn child. How could this happen? How could this be? Sasha, Roland shouted, This is a very bad time for you

to have emotions. Try killing those for a while. How just think about the fact that every one but me will die if you don't get your shit together, and then get your shit together. Her initial action was anger and frustration. Is he that disconnected from humanity? Does he think people can just turn their empathy off? But then she stopped herself listen him and tried. She imagined herself putting on a heavy jacket, something that blocked out pain

and horror rather than the cold. It worked, okay, she said, what do I need to do? You need to take Manny and uh, what's her name? And what's his face? Tooley? And Rick? Right, take the non dead people, run down and out the back door, and find me a car. Then you need to a car. He stopped sifting through the dead man's firearms to roll his eyes at her. Yes, a car. I'm not going to carry all you lame bloods out of here on my fucking shoulders. We'll need

a getaway vehicle. I can't drive, she said. All the cars in the amphet are autonomous. He shrugged. You'll figure it out. Many moaned just then, almost as if it was in response to Roland's suggestion. Sasha knew it was more likely she'd just been too focused on the big posthuman to notice Manny's pained moans the whole time. Can he drive? Sasha asked, sure, Roland said with sudden cheer He's only lost what two quarts of blood? I gave

him a little mine. I'm sure he'll be right his rain soon, Manny moaned again, handed his blood soaked belly. He didn't appear to be bleeding still, but he was pale and his face showed agony too obvious to ignore. Sasha doubted he'd be capable of driving a car in the immediate future. I can drive, Toulli said, in a cracked, broken sounding voice. Right Roland said, well, that's lovely. Get your asses up and get moving. You've got about two

minutes before shitting fans start their lovely dance. The posthuman's good humor was incongruous in this blood soaked room. Addressed to two people who'd lost a friend to day. He grabbed one of the guard's pistols, which he'd shoved in his waistband, and handed it to Sasha. Safety's off, he said, cheerily, So once you pull the trigger, stuff'll happen. Sasha took the gun and then went over to help Manny up.

Toullie did the same thing with her wounded friend. Neither Manny or Rick were in great shape, but Manny at least seemed capable of standing under his own power. Once Sasha got him to his feet, he stayed there. She looked him in the eye, and while he seemed sort of dazed and glassy, his pupils fixed on hers, and he nodded. We have to go, She said, sitra tempoima. He muttered what Sasha asked said, it's about fuckin' time. Just follow me, she said, with more confidence than she felt.

I'll take care of everything. Oh fuck that, Manny said. He put a hand on her shoulder and moved as if to push in front of her and shield her with his body. Then he grabbed a side, groaned, and staggered back. All right, yeah, you lead the way men. Tully was up now. She had an arm around her friend, and together they moved almost as fast as a single elderly person with bad hips. Mannie was not much more mobile. Sasha looked back at Roland. Where should we meet you?

The next street behind this building is called Alma. Take it and go left until you hit a road named Cross Bend. I should be there by the time you arrive. What if we can't find a he cut her off. Not finding a car is not an option. Talking more is not an option. I have to go kill people. You find something with wheels and get Tully in the driver's seat. Sasha star to say something, but the sirens had drawn very close. Indeed, she heard several shouts from

outside the front of the building. Roland cursed. He'd already gathered up two of the rifles and slung them across his back. He had a large pistol in his left hand. At the sound of the shouting, he brought his right hand up to his belly and dug it deep inside his skin. Sasha watched in horror as he tore a heavy, blood caked weapon out of his gut. Roland walked up to the front window of the room and fired the weapon once, twice, three times. Its report was deep and bassy,

like the sound of a heavy drum being struck. There was a brief island of quiet, followed by a trio of explosions that rattled the walls of the jail. Look. Roland said as he glanced back to her, I gotta go be a distraction. Find the car. Get to cross bend in Almah, I'll be therein. He glanced out the window again and shrugged. Ten maybe eleven minutes. Okay should Sasha started to ask talking time is done. Toolie's flat voice interrupted, he moves, We move now. She pulled her

friend towards the door. Would have been something almost comical about the agonizing slowness with which they actually moved, but the gesture had its intended effect. Sasha took Manny by the hand. She let Tully lead the way to the door, but once they were in the hallway, the young woman had no idea where to go. Sasha took the lead then and guided her new comrades towards a flashing red exit sign that she knew led to a rear stairwell. For a brief passing second, she'd been worried that they

might encounter other guards or jailers during their flight. That concern proved groundless. Gunfire had torn through the walls of the examination room and ripped apart the interior of the jail. She saw a few gouts of blood by the walls, and one sinister looking pool of it beneath a desk. It all drove an important lesson home for Sasha. Bullets don't stop when they miss. The stairwall was as deserted as the rest of the jail. They hobbled down at

as quickly as three wounded people could manage. Sasha stayed in the back, under the instinctive assumption that it'd be best for morale if she didn't rush ahead. Their progress down the stairs was painfully slow, almost every step punctuated by the sound of gunfire out on the street below. It sounded like a full scale war had broken out there. There was a lot of screaming, and Sasha tried not to think too much about which of the nice young martyrs she'd met in the square were now dying by

Roland's hand. What about Anne? What about Susanna? You're abandoning them? Sasha shook the thoughts clear from her head. There'd be time for self loathing later. Tully and Rick reached the bottom floor first. They leaned back against the wall together and caught their breath. Rick was as white as a sheet and looked like he could still barely stand. Tullie was doing better, but not by a wide margin. When she and Manny hit the bottom floor, he went straight

for the exit door. He clearly intended to be the first out in case anyone had a weapon trained on the door. Sasha stopped him. That wasn't hard, because he was only a little more stable than Tully. She pushed him back, put a hand on the door, and then drew the pistol Roland had given her. She fixed Mannie with what she hoped was a firm, fearless look. You're in no state to be heroic. He looked at her as if he wanted to fight her, but then he looked down at the shaking hand he had pressed into

the sopping wound in his side. Yeah, all right, you down to do the hero stuff. Then she nodded, well, then be my guest. Sasha didn't know how to use a gun. The m FED band almost all private firearm ownership. Her grandfather had owned a couple of bolt action hunting rifles, and he'd let Sasha hold them a few times. That was as close as she'd gotten too firearms training. She'd never actually shot the darned things. Once he'd died, her father had sold the guns rather than deal with the

hassle and expense of a license. So she burst out onto the street with the pistol held high in front of her, like she'd seen in movies. It took her a few seconds to realize, sheepishly, that this behavior was more likely to get her gun down than aid in her defense. Thankfully, there'd been no martyrs watching the rear exit. Sasha waved for the others to follow her out and stashed the pistol under her shirt. For a few minutes, they'd ran, or rather hobbled, in what seemed like the

right direction. The city still rang with the sound of sirens, gunfire, and the occasional concussive blast, but it seemed to be moving away from them. Plino wasn't exactly crowded, but there were enough people out on the street to notice the fresh wounds on Tulli, Rick, and Manny. No one approached them, though Sasha wasn't sure if they passed unnoticed, but they were able to pass through the city without incident. Fear and the flight reflex were enough to carry them a

few blocks in relative haste. Once they were out of sight of the jail, Rick put up a hand as he slumped back against the wall. Tully continued to hold him up. She was pale, sweaty, and pained looking. Ryan shook and shuddered. His eyes were unfocussed, and he was clearly in shock. He needs to rest, Tulli said. Manny stopped next to them and leaned against the wall as well. He nodded at Tully and then looked back to Sasha. Yeah, ditto, I might prefer to lay down and die at this point.

We need to find a car anyway, Tulli said, as she helped lower Rick down to sit against the wall. If I carry him for much longer, I'm going to drop. Sasha realized everyone was looking at her. Is that my job? Manny looked mortified, Tullie looked angry. Rick bless him, was too deep and shocked to react. Yes, Toulli said, in a toneless voice that still somehow implied deep disappointment. Okay, then Sasha said, when I find the car, I assume you'll know how to hot wire it. Tully laughed. It

wasn't a nice laugh. If you're hiding a real nice deck somewhere and that's silly head of yours, or you find a car that's older than my dad. Maybe otherwise we're going to need something with keys in it. What so I'm just supposed to carjack someone. Tully stared dead eyed at her. Manny gave a pained, helpful smile. I mean you've got a gun, he said. Sasha felt the

heat rise in her again. Why not, I've given up every other principle I have to day, I might as well commit armed robbery, the guilt staying her guts, but not as badly as it should have. Perhaps she was still numb from watching Doctor Brandton Marigold. Or maybe it's because I killed Alexander. Maybe I'm evil now and this is what that feels like. There was no time to mold the possibilities. Sasha left Manny and the others to catch their breath and darted down an alley towards a

larger street that sounded like it might have traffic. She passed two parked cars and looked inside with the vain hope that, just maybe someone might have left their keys behind. It was to no avail. Sasha soon found herself on the cracked and shell pocked asphalt of Alma Road. The buildings on either side of this stretch of street had taken significant damage during the Heavenly Kingdom's birth panes. There were no people out on the sidewalks or visible in

the windows. Anyone alive had probably hunkered down to avoid the shooting. There was still traffic on the road, though, three trucks and a dentted, fume spewing white sedan shot by her at the speed of wartime traffic. Sasha drew her gun, looked at it, and then hurriedly stashed it inside her blouse again when she realized how dumb that had been. Godly women do not carry guns. A series

of four loud booms sounded in the distance. Sasha didn't know enough about weaponry to guess what those had been, but she knew they'd had something to do with Rowland. People are dying, so I can find us a car and get everyone to safety. She started walking down the street, face pointed towards oncoming traffic, hands waving above her head in the international gesture for oh God, please help me. Two more cars zoomed past without even slowing to check

on her. It was odd how that shocked her after everything else she'd seen in the heavenly Kingdom, the faithful protect and support each other, pastor Mike had claimed, But not, it seemed, when a half human monster was on a rampage through their city. That helped debate her guilt, at least, or it did right up until the moment a familiar jankie brown truck rumbled to a stop next to her. Squise me, ma'am, do you need She turned around, and

the man's face lit up in surprise, Miss Sasha. It was Darryll, the kindly old foreman who driven her to the House of Miriam on her first day in the kingdom. Was that really only days ago? Seemed like years? Sasha felt like an old woman, even though she was just on the edge of eighteen. You hurt? He slammed the car into park and opened his door one sec I got a first aid kit in the back. Where'd you get hit? Sasha looked down at her chest and realized

she looked like she'd been badly injured. The blood wasn't hers, of course, but Darrell couldn't have known that. He thought she was hurt and he was trying to help. Am I really going to rob a good Samaritan? She was? Sasha waited until Darrell had closed the door, grabbed his medical kit and turned towards her. Then she drew her pistol and leveled it at his weathered, grease stained, and now thoroughly surprised face. WHOA, I need your truck. I

need your truck, she said. Darrell dropped the medical kit and put both his palms out. Oh now, girl, all right, why don't you just put that gun down. Darrell ain't gonna hurt you. I'll take you anywhere you need to go. Let's just be real, calm, real slow about all this. Did somebody hurt you? I need your truck? It was so hard to keep her voice, even, so hard to do this cruel thing to a man who'd only been kind to her. Sasha could feel white hot tears streamed

down her face. I must look like a crazy person, she thought. Maybe that will help, now, Miss Sasha, Darrell said, I'm a guess you don't know how to drive a truck. Mine ain't autonomous, it's old stick shift. Please, why don't you let me take you where you need to go? Sasha's mind raced. It was the same species of nervousness that had always gripped her during major exams in college admissions essays. She ran through and discarded a dozen different

courses of action in her head. What if he won't give me the keys, What if he takes another step forward? What if he moved? It started with a single glance, Darrell's eyes darted towards the driver's side door of his truck. She almost didn't catch it, but for whatever reason, the gesture rose goose pimples on the back of her neck and forearms. I need your truck. Her voice was cold, strong, firm. Darrell nodded at her. His body posture stayed the same,

but his eyes changed. There was something hard and haunted in them. Now, all right, miss Sasha, I'm just gonna reach in here for my keys. He took a step back and moved towards the door. The bottom fell out of Sasha's gut and she screamed at him to stop. Don't make another move. He dove for the door, pulled it open, and reached a hand down beside the driver's seat. Sasha saw a flash of metal in his hand, and she opened fire. She wasn't sure how many times she

pulled the trigger, but soon the gun was empty. Sasha watched as Darrell stumbled back into the truck and then slid to the ground. Most of her shots had gone wide, very wide. She'd chattered two of the truck's windows and put four or five rounds into the vehicle's body, but at least one had hit Darrell right in his throat, a kill shot. He slumped to the ground, gagged on blood, and jerked like an electrified marionette. Part of her wanted to run to him, to hold him while he died,

and say she was sorry. Then she saw the gun at his feet. It didn't dissipate her guilt, after all, she'd drawn on him first. But at least she hadn't shot and killed an unarmed man. She'd killed an armed man, an armed man who only ever helped me. Sasha slumped against the hood of the truck and lost herself in a storm of sobs. She didn't realize she dropped her gun until it hit the asphalt with a dull clank. She couldn't control her hands or her breathing. Her frantic

sobbing had robbed all the air from her lungs. Her legs weakened, and she started to stumble to the ground when a pair of warm, semi strong arms caught her from behind. Hey, Hey, it's all right, it's all right, Manny, it's okay. You're gonna be okay. Her world went black for a little while. Sasha felt Mannie lift her up, heard the sound of the truck's engine rumble back to life. But she couldn't see, and she couldn't move, and she couldn't stop crying. Time lost any sort of meaning. When

she came back to herself, they were in motion. Mannie sat next to her, and Rick next to him. Tully drove. Sasha's eyes were drawn to Mannie. He held Darrell's pistol in his left hand. She couldn't help but stare at the four spots of dried blood on the silver slide. You all right, Sasha, Mannie asked. His question passed through her ears without hitting her mind. Sasha couldn't stop staring at Darrell's blood. I did that. I ended him. She'd ended two men to day. She felt no guilt about Alexander,

but that was almost more disturbing. It seemed impossible that she'd been a pampered suburban girl less than a month ago. Now she was a murderer. Whoever sheds human blood by humans, shall their blood be shed? Sasha felt as if a thick cloud of doom had fallen on her shoulders. The truck veered off to the right and slammed to a sudden stop. Sasha was flung forward into the back of

Tullie's seat. A trio of vehicles zoomed past them, speeding in the opposite direction, like several bats fleeing the same hell. Sasha realized with a moment's focus that there was an awful lot of traffic heading away from them as fast as possible. Promp Tullie cursed and fought with a stick shift. The truck lurched forward again and made it back onto the road for a few seconds. Then another speeding car roared into the on coming lane and she was forced

to veer off to the shoulder again. The sounds of gunfire grew louder. Sasha heard the thrumb of helicopter blades too, a second before one buzzed right over their heads. It looked like a military vehicle, painted matt black and laden with weapons. Sasha watched as it zoomed ahead and rose up over a pair of high rise apartment buildings near the horizon line. There was a loud crump sound, and black smoke billowed out from the side of the craft.

It spun around drunkenly in the air for one very long second before slamming into the roof of one of the high rises. The resultant blast rocked the truck. Tuleye veered left and right around a pothole at another speeding truck, respectively. Her knuckles were white, her jaw was clenched. Sasha could see Tully's eyes in the rear view mirror. She looked terrified and angry at the same time. Rick moaned in pain with every shaken jostle. Manny closed his eyes, shook

his head, and muttered something low under his breath. Are we close, Sasha asked Manny. He squinted and looked out at the road for a second. I mean, he shrugged. Eah, probably, I'm gonna guess. Rollins close to the explosions and also causing them. Smoke now dominated the horizon, which grew less

horizony and more imminent with each passing second. In spite of all that, Sasha's eyes kept being drawn back to the gun in Manny's hand and the dry red brown stains on the slide that was a good man's blood. She thought, how did it come to this? Hey, Jesus girl, it was Tulli. Sasha looked up to the rear view mirror and locked eyes with the other woman. But the fuck up Cheeka, Toulli said. For the first time, Sasha heard real anger and not just cold indifference in her voice.

The other woman continued, My best friend was just shot to pieces, My lover is bleeding out, and you're all fucked up because you'd gunned down some crystal fascist ship. Fuck suck your heart into your guts. I don't know where you came from, girl, but you're in a hard ass part of the world. Now it's time to fortify. Fortify. Sasha held on to that word like a life preserver. Fortify, survive, then you can lose your head in tears and shame. Okay,

she nodded. She started to apologize, but was interrupted when the truck screeched to another's sudden halt and threw everyone forward. Sasha's head hit the front seat again, and her world dissolved into stars. Shit. Toullie cried, something rammed the rear of the truck. Sasha lost all orientation to reality. When her head and eyes cleared, the first thing she saw was Toullie nursing a broken nose. Blood poured down the

other woman's face. Manny seemed intact. Sasha looked behind them and saw a small sedan had dashed itself against the bed of their truck and must have been following right behind. When Tullie hit the brakes. Sasha swung her eyes front to see why they'd stopped. She saw Rowland. He stood maybe ten feet in front of the truck's hood. That arm raiser of his was extended again, but the blade

was cracked and half shattered. His other hand held some sort of large, black assault rifle he hadn't been carrying in the jail. The pistol grip grenade launcher he'd been carrying was still with him, but he'd holstered it in an open hole in his belly. The left side of his cheek had been ripped away. Most of his hair was burnt off, and Sasha made out at least one clear bullet hole in his forehead. There might have been more. All the caked on blood and gore made it hard

to discern. His clothing had been mostly shot, burned torn away. The dominant colors on his body were black and red, with a few horrible spots of white where bone shone through. In the open air. The city behind him was all smoke and fire. Emergency lights from several vehicles blinked madly in the measthma, but there were no martyrs or emergency workers visible, at least none that were standing. Sasha saw several terribly still bodies lying among the piles of rubble.

Roland staggered towards the truck and flung the passenger's side door open. He slumped into the seat, bringing with him an overpowering stink of blood and fire. He leaned back in his seat and took three long breaths, and then he spoke, Wait, head's pretty clear, but you might want to hang a right and then take a left avoid the traffic. Truly nodded, and the truck jerked forward again. The rhinout was so easy it scared Sasha. In fact,

it seemed to scare everyone, but Roland. Manny's knuckles grew whiter and whiter. They navigated their way out of the old Metroplex Toolly's expression didn't change, but her body shook with nervous energy, and her jaw was set so tight that the veins on her neck bulged from the strain. It was a mercy that Rick was unconscious by that point. Convoys of military vehicles rolled past them, sometimes escorting ambulances and other emergency vehicles, sometimes bringing more soldiers to the

chunk of the city. Roland had devastated. Sasha's heart leaped into her throat every single time, but somehow no one stopped their truck. Roland assured them all that it would be fine. I kicked their asses so hard it'll take him an hour to find their cheeks. His only discomfort came once they left the zone of active danger. He seemed to deflate. Then, after a half hour on the road,

his wounds had mostly healed. The new skin that grew back underneath seemed weirdly dark compared to the skin above it. Roland scratched at it in irritation, and then as casually as if he'd been tossing an apple corps, he ripped off his face in one smooth at motion and tossed the bloody skin out the window. Jesus, dude, Manny said, disgusted. Couldn't you have waited until we weren't all in the car?

Sasha stared in shock. Her hands started to tremble, and she felt the urge to vomit, but she fought it down and forced her stomach to an uneasy calm. You've seen worse than this now, and that was true. She looked back at Roland and forced herself to take in his new face, which she guessed was really his old face. Neither iteration of him had been exactly handsome. She watched in queasy fascination as he picked the rest of the white skin from his hands and tossed it out the window.

When he'd finished, he glanced up at Sasha. What he asked, Please tell me you're not a racist. This would be a real bad time for you to be racist. She's not racist, dude, Manny said, you just ripped your skin off. That freaks people out. Oh, said Roland, Right, sorry, it's okay, she said, this is just my first time seeing someone rip off their own skin. First Roland grunted, but probably not last. Sasha didn't have the guts to question him, so she kept quiet for the rest of the ride,

so did most of the other passengers. For a long time, the only sounds inside the truck were Rick's unconscious moans and Rowland's occasional directions to Tully. He led them through underpopulated neighborhoods and around checkpoints, past blackened buildings and wrecks of military vehicles destroyed during the Heavenly Kingdom's first great advance. Sasha was surprised at the emptiness of most of the city. She began to understand why Mannie called this place Sioda

de Muerta. It took them two hours to escape the city sprawl and finally make their way out onto the open plains. They avoided the main highway that linked Dallas to Waco, and instead spider webbed their way across a series of farm roads. Every few minutes, they'd rolled past the bones of a rural town. Every town out here seemed abandoned, as dead and dry as the acres of yellow grass that swallowed them up. A little before dark, they rolled over a decrepit bridge across a dry river bed.

A bullet riddled sign identified this area as Basqui County. Roland put a hand on manny shoulder and pointed towards a big metal barn on the horizon. Take us up there. We should probably stop for the night. What Tully spoke up? Why we could be at rolling fuck in an hour? Roland shook his head. We got two routes back to the city. Either we find the main highway and deal with Kingdom patrols, or we keep ride in these country roads. That'll take at least another two or three hours and

a lot of time off road in the dark. There's no better recipe for cracking an axle or blowing at tire. Tully fumed, but she rolled the truck up and threw a gap in what had once been the fence line of a farm. There were a lot of farmhouses around them, stretched out across acres and acres of fields and pecan orchards. They all looked abandoned, devoid of light, half reclaimed by vegetation. The barn Roland led them to was just as empty.

There were large holes in the sheet metal roof, and chunks of the metal walls had been peeled away for scrap metal. The underlying structure had been built from metal girders, though it seemed solid. They got out of the truck, Roland helped Tully carry her lover across the last few yards of field and into the old barn. The innerds of the building were dusty. Rusted tools hung from the wall,

and boxes of assorted goods littered the floor. Some of them had been ripped open by scavengers, but most looked like they'd sat unmolested since the property had been abandoned. Mannie found an old couch inside Roland and Tulli helped Rick on to it. Then Roland walked off into the middle of the barn and started to root around in boxes. He came back a minute later with a load of canned goods in one arm and a handle of brown

liquor in the other. He sat the whole lot down on the ground next to the couch, held up a can labeled water in big red letters, and then punched his finger through the top of the can. He handed it to Tully and she helped Rick drink. He was semi conscious now, Sasha thought there might be a little more color in his cheeks. Roland opened three more cans, one of water and two filled with some sort of gloopy beef stew. He ripped the aluminum tops open with

his bare fingers and then passed them around. Sasha was still too deep in the throes of depression and adrenaline dumpage to have any kind of appetite. The brown gray color of the stew didn't help with that, but Mannie insisted she take a gulp, and as soon as the food hit her tongue, Sasha realized she was starving. She took two more deep gulps of the salty, mushy mass before passing it along to Tulli. The crew ate and

rehydrated without conversation, Although not in silence. The sounds of gulping and lip smacking filled the barn for a few minutes. Roland didn't join in the eating. Instead, he popped open the liquor bottle and drained it dry over the course of about ninety seconds. The big man closed his eyes, a smile crept up onto his features, and he gave a deep, contented sigh. When the food was almost gone, he stood up and staggered back into the piles of

gear to grab two more bottles. These ones were filled with an off yellow liquid. He sat one down in between Mannie and Sasha and immediately began to guzzle the second. Mannie glanced at Sasha, then at Tulli, then down at the bottle. He popped the top and took a belt. Then he offered it to Sasha. If there was ever a time to dive into drinking, it's the day I killed two people. Sasha took the bottle and stared at it for a second. The label said Talisker and identified

it as a product of Scotland. The bottle itself was covered in dust. Hey, Roland, she asked, suddenly curious. Did you know this place would have food and water and alcohol? Roland paused draining his second bottle and fixed Sasha with his strange blue eyes. He looked tired for the first time since she'd met him. Sasha wasn't sure if that was due to the rampage he'd just carried out or her question. I've been here before, he half mumbled, years ago, back before this old chunk of dirt was as much

of a shithole as it is now. Wait did you used to live here? Manny asked, I don't know. Roland shrugged. What do you mean you don't know? You clearly know this farm. He shrugged and gave a vague wave with his free hand. I have memories of this place, bright lights at night, people dancing, drugs and wine, and people in songs. I am memories of packing the supplies in the boxes, buying ammunition. He nodded towards the still locked door of the barn. I remember locking that thing up,

But I don't remember or why exactly. I might have lived here, might have belonged to a friend. Either way, I feel like the last time I was here was back before the revolution. His mind is full of holes, Mannie explained, something happened to him a few years back. He remembers pieces of who he is, what he's done, but not everything. Tully kicked Sasha gently in the hip. She gestured to the bottle of whisky. If you're not drinking past the bottle, some of us have grieving to do.

On impulse, Sasha took a pole from the bottle. She started to hand it over to Tulli, but then the taste hit her and she gagged. It was like someone had lit a fire in her throat, one that tasted of burning peat. She coughed and hacked for several seconds, while Tulli and Roland laughed. Once she'd regained her breath, Sasha finally handed off the bottle. You'll get better at it, the woman said, her lips twisted up into what might have been a real smile. Whisky's in acquired taste, like

cigars nanarchy. Tully took a very deep pole and sighed and satisfaction, She handed the bottle off to Manny and started gently heading Rick's face. The wounded man was asleep, but he seemed much healthier than he had been a half hour earlier. How are you doing, Sasha, Manny asked. His eyes met hers, and Sasha saw a deep concern in his gaze. I'm fine, she said, not really meaning it. She's all fucked up over the guy she killed for

the truck. Toullie grunted, shouldn't be fucker picked the wrong side, So did I. Sasha tried to keep the anger out of her voice. At first, Darrow was a good man. He didn't deserve to die. Neither did Marigold, said Toulli. Neither did Major Pirrone. Manny added, in a quiet voice. They hung him on the day you and I met. The whole world's full of good dead people, said Tullie. My advice don't cry over someone you shot in self defense.

That's a karmac freebie. The guy had a gun, Manny added, seems like he just did what she had to do. Roland was quiet through all this. He kept drinking, but his pace had slowed. His face took on a dark cast, and he slumped down into his chair. He seemed to collapse in on himself. A little look Cheeka, Toullie said.

There was a slight, drunken slurry were words. Now. I know I gave you a hard time, and it was dumb as fucky in a mood of this kingdom, But I give you credit for breaking free and for helping us escape. You might be a little dumb, but you aren't bad people in my book. Don't beat yourself up over doing what you had to do. There was quiet for a little while. Manny passed the bottle to Sasha. She took another gulp and managed to hold it down.

This time. Toullie nodded an approval. When Sasha passed the whiskey on, Sasha found her eyes drawn once more to Darrell's gun. It was tucked into Toollie's waistband. Roland cleared his throat and gave a loud, flimmy cough. Sasha looked back at him. You didn't ask me for an opinion, he said, But since everyone else's way in, and I might as well. There ain't nothing wrong with feeling bad about murder, even justified murder. But personally, I don't think

that's what's fucking you up. What do you mean, she asked. He drained the l asked of the whiskey bottle and tossed it off into the darkness. It landed with a clank. I got real good senses, you know, can't turn them off. So I heard your heart right. I smelled the narrow transmitters running through you synapses. I could taste the guilt wafting off you. But that's not the only thing I taste. He locked his unsteady gaze on hers. Sasha stared into

the cold blue of his pupils. A chill ran down her spine, Sweat beaded on the back of her neck. When he spoke next, his voice was barely above a whisper. Back at the jail, When you crushed that guy's skull with a helmet, you enjoyed yourself. You liked it. Sasha broke his gaze. She stared down at her lap and struggled to find a reply, but there was nothing else for her to say. Roland was right. Hey, I'm Robert Evans. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I hope you enjoyed

the chapters to come. You can find the free epub of every chapter, and eventually the whole book at atrbook dot com, complete with illustrations. If you want to support me in writing the sequel, you can crowdfund me at After the Revolution the Sequel at go fund Me. Just type and go fund me After the Revolution the Sequel. I'd like my books to always be free, so I'm just going to try to crowdfund the next one and see how that works. So After the Revolution the Sequel

on go fund me. You can also find the community of fans of this book online at r slash after the Revolution on Reddit. So After the Revolution the Sequel on go fund me and r slash after the Revolution on Reddit. Atrbook dot com for the whole book. Thanks