The Apostates (16 page)

“Oh, nothing, silly me. Getting wrapped up
in the past,” von Manstein stowed his nostalgia, “Please take me into the
venue,” von Manstein instructed. The two walked up to the towering, old
stadium. The white noise of a refugee camp was heard in the sprawling parking
lot behind them, like an extended pre-war, involuntary ‘tail gate party’. In
front of them were Regime and church officials buzzing about making
preparations for the massive event. They were wiring temporary lighting,
installing extra bathroom facilities, and trying to solve water and food
logistics problems.

The site foreman approached von Manstein. He was a bald man, with a furry mustache and a disproportionate belly.

“Your holiness, what a treat. Good to see
you,” the foreman greeted him.

“Yes, yes, how goes the preparations
here?” von Manstein pushed for a progress report.

“Well, we should be all ready to go in
time for the B.A.G., we’ll be well provisioned for the event. As for the horde
of followers outside our doors, let’s just say that I wouldn’t want to be
camping there for more than a couple of days,” the foreman confessed.

“Do you have extra provisions that you can
hand out to the crowd?” von Manstein inquired.

“We only have enough supplies for the
workers and then for the event itself. We didn’t know we’d be dealing with a
refugee crisis.” The foreman gestured to the tent city in the parking lot.

“As soon as the crowd begins to run out of
provisions, please share some of the crew’s provisions with the crowd—whatever
you can spare.” von Manstein was trying to buy some time.

“Well, I’ll do what I can, but our
provisions are fairly Spartan as is,” the foreman explained.

“Good! Now that this matter is settled,
would you please show me the sub-basement preparations?” von Manstein
requested.

“Yes holiness, right this way.” The foreman gestured to a service elevator leading to lower levels. The trio entered the lift and pulled the safety door shut and made the descent. Several levels later they exited the lift. A dingy corridor was lined with generators and cables running through the space, the corridor led to a central hub—a large chamber directly underneath the playing field of the stadium. In the center of the space where all the cables and wires converged, was a large metallic container, various warning labels were plastered on its sides.

“Do you think this will do the trick? It’s
synchronized to the [Virtue-net] right?” von Manstein asked.

“Yes sir, this is sufficient. Timed with the official Second Coming—whenever the Reverend says it’s time,” the foreman confirmed, with arms folded, “Let’s just hope the crowd outside survives long enough to see it happen,” the foreman said with concern.

“Duly noted. Please bring me up to the
field level,” von Manstein requested with irritation in his voice.

The trio took the lift back up to ground level. They proceeded to the playing field through a service entrance. On the field itself was a massive stage, with a backdrop of “heavenly” props, a huge flex screen loomed overhead, and a vintage pulpit, that would have been at home in a Twentieth century a church. von Manstein slowly ascended the stairs to the pulpit on stage. Behind the pulpit was three-dimensional projection apparatus. von Manstein assumed that this is where the avatar of the Reverend would appear.

“Great, everything looks to be coming along well, foreman. Most pleasing to the Church,” von Manstein said approvingly. The Arch-Deacon and his driver exited the stadium. Off in the distance, von Manstein could see that a scuffle had broken out in the crowd by a group of tents. The scuffle had escalated to a brawl and security officials had rushed over to break it up. von Manstein watched for a moment, then entered his armored vehicle.

“Poor, lost souls. We will be doing them a
favor by delivering them unto the Lord,” he thought, as he sat on one of the stiff
seats in the vehicle and strapped himself in.

“Another city down,” he congratulated
himself for making the inspection. The armored vehicle started out, and the
rough pavement shook the vehicle as it moved. von Manstein analyzed the route
displayed on his retinal H.U.D.—he traced where he was, and where he had been.
Next on the itinerary was Baltimore, Maryland. A Regime advisory warning
flashed next to the map, about the activities of a black market cartel named
the “Barksdale Syndicate”. Officially the Church and Regime condemned the black
market cartels, but under the table the Church had massive dealings with these
cartels to procure goods and services that the Church leadership desired, so
von Manstein chuckled and dismissed the warning.

⍟ ⍟ ⍟

Gertrude Greenbaum had been scouring the camp for an hour looking to make a barter. She was trying to make a meal for her family, but she had failed to think about packing the spice rack at home. Gertrude was on the hunt for pepper, paprika, turmeric and other spices. The Greenbaums had been a fairly traditional family—Gertrude had been taking care of domestic duties at home, so it fell to her by default to continue those duties on the road. She had Regime currency; plenty of it. But, she was worried that it would be worthless as the world was going to end soon.

Gertrude walked down between two rows of tents that had just been erected. The Pilgrimage had been halted because the ferry needed to take them across the Great Lake had broken down and was being serviced, so they would have to camp here until the ferry was fixed. A tent to her right harbored a woman who was screaming and moaning in pain. She caught a glimpse of a woman laying on a cot. It appeared that her water had broken and she was heading into labor. The woman was being tended to by a midwife and what appeared to be the father. Gertrude had moved on as she had no intention of intervening in such a drama. She had walked by another block of tents and in one tent where the entrance flap was peeled back, she gazed upon a middle-aged woman cooking over a portable range. The woman had a pot containing some kind of stew boiling on it. Gertrude could smell the spice in the air. Perhaps she had some to spare?

“Excuse me, excuse me, ma’am. May I offer you a trade?” Gertrude peered her head in the tent.

“Well hello, c’mon in ‘hun!” the woman had
said, “I’ve got a mean goulash cooking if you’re looking for food,” the woman
stated invitingly, while stirring the pot with a wooden spoon.

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly. I have a dinner I must cook myself. I was wondering if I could pay you for some spices? I noticed that you may have a decent amount,” Gertrude probed.

“Why yes, I do. I have quite a bit,” she
gestured to a box of cooking supplies, which included turmeric, paprika,
pepper, rosemary, and a vast assortment of staples.

“Great, I can pay you for whatever you can
spare!” Gertrude offered, bringing her purse forward.

“Nonsense, you’re money is no good here. Besides, we’re all children of God on our way to a better place!” The woman had declined the money and moved to the spice box, “What were you after, now?” the woman inquired, digging through the bottles.

“Oh, I’m looking for small amounts of
pepper, paprika and turmeric—like you—just trying to make a stew that will
feed a family for awhile,” Gertrude explained.

“How nice, a family. Let me just get you a
couple baggies,” the woman said forlornly.

Gertrude wondered why her tone had
changed. Then something struck her: the woman’s face looked familiar. Gertrude
remembered the woman from the roadside. The man who had the heart attack must
have been related to her as she was there with him.

“Pardon me, what is your name if you don’t
mind me asking?” Gertrude asked the woman.

“Oh, I’m Vanessa, ‘hun,” she answered
back.

“Vanessa, thanks so much for the spices.
This helps me greatly. Say, how many in your family?” Gertrude asked wearily.

“Just me now. I had my dad with me, but the trip did him in. He’s certainly in a better place now, though,” Vanessa confessed, staring into the pot of goulash for one.

“I’m sorry for your loss! You must be crushed that he couldn’t reach the B.A.G. to witness the Second Coming?” Gertrude was trying to engage Vanessa on what she figured were her entrenched beliefs.

“Are you kidding? I’m relieved that he is gone. I believe he really is with God now...on his own terms. All that matters is that the individual believes that their loved ones are in a better place, right? And, I believe I will see him again, but not because the Church is going to send me there,” Vanessa explained with a tested smile, she went back to spicing and stirring the goulash.

Gertrude was surprised by her answer. She
found that Vanessa was passively resisting in her own way. After all the years
of conditioning and control, she still managed to hold onto defiance.

“At any rate. I hope the spices work. Enjoy
your dinner. I’ll be going back to cooking now.” Vanessa dismissed her, wanting
to be alone. Gertrude took the hint and left her in peace, carrying a couple
bags of spices for her cooking. Gertrude headed back to her side of the camp,
thinking about what Vanessa had told her. Maybe all these people aren’t as
indoctrinated as deeply as she had thought previously? She figured that a
government can only push people so far until they break. After all her own
mother had told Gertrude when she was a child about her great grandfather’s
struggle against an authoritarian Regime long ago, during a great war. She
barely remembered those stories, but one word still stuck her mind: ‘partisan’.

⍟ ⍟ ⍟

Head Ranger Frank would make a name for himself after this victory. Surely he would receive special honors at the B.A.G, in the presence of the Lord? At the least it would not look good for Inquisitor Rodrigo to have been sitting in the capital while the resistance was destroyed. The Inquisitor wanted Head Ranger Frank to notify him the moment he had confirmed the location of the Apostates operating base. Which he had done, but only just a few moments ago. Head Ranger Frank began the assault, and by the time Rodrigo made it out West the Apostates would be finished. Rodrigo was trying to rob Head Ranger Frank of glory anyhow, so he thought he would take it himself.

Head Ranger Frank stood atop an armored vehicle with field glasses pointed down toward the Mothball Fleet. He was assessing the situation. Frank noticed a lot of stirring within the fleet, but a well-defended wall and gate protecting the pier.

“Battle Group Right commence the attack. Draw their attention.” Frank ordered the advance. Frank had a personal guard of five Rangers and a platoon of army regulars. The bulk of his force he was sending against the left flank of the fleet. Frank was holding them back until the right flank engaged. It would be a staggered attack to keep the Apostates off balance.

It was late afternoon and Frank was hoping
that they could complete the assault before nightfall. The last thing he wanted
was a protracted night battle. Frank was forced to strike out this late in the
day because he had only received Lore-Fiction’s transmission just before noon.
The message was short and to the point, it had just given the Apostate’s
position and stated that they were leaving soon. Frank was worried that the
mole had been found out because he had not heard anything more from him. He
thought that Lore-Fiction would have proved useful in the upcoming
confrontation, but alas, he’d win without him.

Head Ranger Frank could view the first wave on the right moving down the ridge in the direction of the fleet and sentries that had not spotted them yet. The Lovers and army regulars formed up in picket lines and awaited the order to fire. Head Ranger Frank was overjoyed. This was his time to shine—the opportunity he had been denied thus far in his career. Frank fantasized about the victory procession he would get from the Schrubbs, and even a place of honor at the B.A.G. this year. A front row seat to the Rapture—actually get to meet Jesus personally, besids the great Reverend Wilhem: the last prophet of God.

⍟ ⍟ ⍟

Hades-Perdition had been monitoring
L.O.V.E. chatter on the [Virtue-net] and knew an attack was coming on the right
flank. The Apostates had armed personnel stationed there on shore
behind a fortified wall, and on the ships nearest to that flank. No one covered
the center save for the sentries at the front gate. Hades figured he could
scale the superstructure of the battleship in the central position and it would
be the perfect sniper perch, giving him a commanding view of all flanks. This is
where he could make the most impact.

All ships in the fleet had their engines warming up and personnel were in the process of unmooring the ships, but it wouldn’t be quick enough. There would be no way to avoid this fight. Hades climbed to the top of the superstructure near the old RADAR array and took a prone position. He readied his M82, fifty-caliber, anti-material rifle. Hades wondered if Inquisitor Rodrigo was here, maybe he would catch a glimpse of him in his sights, and with the pull of the trigger, settle an old score.

Hades checked in with all Apostates, “I’m
in position all. Is everyone ready?”

“Check. I’ve taken up position on the left
flank, on the battleship, North Carolina. I’ve got a detachment of personnel
here. We will hold off what we can,” Aqua-Deluge reported.

“I’m performing checks on equipment in the
bridge of our flagship. I will do as match as I can until the attack begins,”
Ravine-Gulch reported.

“I’m acting as medic for the right
flank defense. I’ll do what I can in a combat role as well, but I’ll probably
have my hands full with the wounded,” Blaze-Scorch confessed.

“I’m on the right flank as well. I can
support the center if need be,” Gale-Whirlwind stated.

They all were in place and anticipating the
attack. Ravine-Gulch finished some engine checks and then left the bridge. He
moved to the bow of the ship where tarps had been hung to preserve a fresh
paint job. He released the twine holding the tarp and it fell into the water,
revealing the vessel name; BB-61 U.S.S. Iowa. Ravine thought it appropriate to
retain the original name of their designated flagship. The Iowa was being
recommissioned under fire, against the country, which had launched it. Ravine
appreciated the irony of the situation.

Ravine rushed over to the gangplank that connected the deck to other ships in the row. He moved from ship to ship in the direction of the left flank. He overheard more L.O.V.E. chatter and thought he heard the general order to attack the right flank.

“It’s gonna get hot over there. I hope
Gale will be alright. They got Hades in a sniper position and Blaze over there.
The flank should hold,” Ravine thought as he jumped onto the deck of an oil
tanker.

“Contact with Rangers and regulars! Incoming fire!” Gale-Whirlwind had yelled through the [Apostate-net]. Over on the right flank she was firing her weapon from behind the bulwark of a cargo ship. She had managed to halt the advance of a group of regulars who had to take cover in the growth of trees on the shore, due to her superior firing position. Rangers adjacent to the regulars trained in on Gale and returned fire forcing her to crouch behind the bulwark. She started to panic but willed herself to keep composure. Several Apostate soldiers converged on her position at the bow of the ship to return fire upon the Rangers and regulars, the effect was that a stalemate developed, where the L.O.V.E. advance was halted.

Hades-Perdition caught a Regime army
regular in his sites and put him down with a fifty caliber round to the head.
The soldiers around him responded by calling out that they were under sniper
fire.

Hades listened to the L.O.V.E. chatter—the second wave on the left flank was ordered to advance.

“Aqua, heads up, you’ll be expecting an
attack on your flank pretty soon!” Hades warned.

“I heard it. I’ll be ready,” Aqua-Deluge
responded.

⍟ ⍟ ⍟

Head Ranger Frank had ordered the second
wave to attack the left flank. He checked on their progress with his field
glasses. He saw that they made steady progress toward their objective. Head Ranger
Frank was relieved, to see something going right. Then, suddenly, he spied a
peculiarity in his field glasses. There was something hovering above that wing
of the attack.

“What the fuck is that?” Frank was worried
now.

Down on the left flank the Rangers and
regulars were moving through a thicket leading to the shore to engage the
entrenched Apostates. The ranking Ranger noticed movement from above.
Approaching from the south, were small, flying craft, about a dozen, in a
chevron formation. They had made a slight buzz as they moved closer.

“What the hell? Are they watching us with
those drones?” one Ranger yelled furiously.

“Shoot ‘em down!” another Ranger shouted.

Regular troops and Rangers raised their weapons to the sky. The drones had approached and hovering overhead, about one hundred feet in altitude. There was an object attached to each drone that was released and a dozen spherical objects dropped toward the battle group. They were grenades. The fuses had been timed to explode just above the ground.

“Grenades!” one Ranger managed to yell out
right before they detonated. White, hot shrapnel was flung in every direction,
cutting through countless men, severing arteries, and dicing vital organs. A
soldier was slightly wounded and he tried to drag one of his gravely wounded
comrades to safety. The glowing blade of a shaft of plasma burned a whole
through the chest plate of his armor. As he looked down in shock the plasma
blade was jerked up rapidly, splitting the upper body and head in two.

Prelate Inoguchi retracted the plasma
blade and stood over her victim, then moved stealthily toward the ships on the
left flank of the battle.

“Ranger Ivanov, respond! What is your
status? What was that explosion?” Head Ranger Frank demanded an answer but none
came. Now the Head Ranger was worried—he was losing control of the operation
rapidly. He decided to commit the Rangers who were stationed to guard him to
investigate the left flank. Frank was all alone now.

⍟ ⍟ ⍟

Ravine-Gulch heard the chatter and confusion within the L.O.V.E. ranks. He wondered what could possibly be transpiring. It sounded like they had come under attack by a third party. The news was disconcerting because it wasn’t apparent if they were friend or foe.

“Guys, did you get that? Someone is
attacking the Rangers. Anybody get a visual?” Ravine inquired to everyone
involved.

“I saw some explosions by the shore. We
were expecting the Rangers second attack here but nothing,” Aqua-Deluge
confirmed.

“Wait a minute. Someone is attacking
our soldiers on shore. I saw a couple go down. What the?” Aqua
sounded worried.

“Hang in there! I’m coming to your
position!” Ravine announced. He picked up his pace rushing from ship to ship.
Ravine was confused—a third party attacking both Rangers and Apostates?

Aqua-Deluge attempted to get a clear shot
on the figure engaging the Apostate soldiers on shore. She watched the carnage
through her scope. The assailant appeared to be a woman fighting in close quarters
with some type of energy weapon. She watched the mysterious woman side step a
bayonet thrust, break the arm of her opponent, then she used him as a human
shield to absorb rounds shot by two other of his comrades. She threw his body
aside and proceeded to attack the two soldiers.

Aqua captured the woman in her sights and took a shot. The round struck her breastplate and knocked her back slightly, but it had ricocheted harmlessly off. Aqua-Deluge’s position was given away, as the mysterious woman cast a fiery glance her way. The woman then slipped around the back of one of the soldiers after he left himself open. She brought the knife to his neck and carved a crevasse into his jugular, spilling its contents.

Aqua cursed audibly at the sight of the kill and attempted to line up another shot, but when she looked through her scope, the woman had disappeared and none of the soldiers were standing.

⍟ ⍟ ⍟

Apostate personnel began retracting the gangplanks to the ships and some started to pick up steam and move out of their static positions. The lead ships on the left flank were closest to open ocean. The ships on the right flank would have to wait to move out until the ships on the left were clear. The right flank was under attack and an intense firefight had developed. Gale-Whirlwind was laying down suppression fire, with a few other soldiers. Blaze-Scorch was busy tending to several wounded soldiers, trying to stop the bleeding from a severed artery.

Hades-Perdition was keeping attackers at
bay from the central gate leading to the pier. He had downed two bold attackers
who tried to rush the gate. It didn’t take the Rangers long to stop that
tactic. They were now scanning the ships looking for the sniper’s position.
Rangers were formidable marksmen—all they needed was Hades’s position to turn
the tide. Hades’s let off another round. This shot did not hit its mark,
missing a head as a branch entered the line of fire, blocking the round.
Hades’s position was given away and several Rangers started lobbing rounds up
at his sniper’s perch. A round grazed his gauntlet, a few others missed
by inches.

“Shit! I’m taking fire up here! I need to take cover!” Hades pulled himself out of the line of fire and jumped down from the ledge to a catwalk below. He started to make his way down toward Gale and Blaze’s position. Rangers waded into the water toward the hull near the stern of the ship. The Rangers began scaling the side of the ship’s hull with magnetized grips. Rangers and regular troops laid down suppressive fire.

“There’s too many of them! I can’t
get shots off. They’re boarding the ship near the stern.” Gale was shaken. She
returned a few rounds but just succeeded in attracting a dozen rifles firing
her way.

Without Hades’s sniper fire, more Ranges rushed the shoreline and took down the few remaining Apostate soldiers on the pier. They approached the hull near the bow of the ship, right under Gale and Blaze’s position, but there was little they could do to stop the boarding as Ranger marksmen pinned them down.

“I’ll take down the Rangers boarding at the stern,” Hades-Perdition reported, as he set his M82 aside, and then unsheathed his Claymore. Standing at the ready, he awaited the Ranger boarding party. Ranger‘s heads appeared from over the guard rail. One, two, three, then six jumped onto the weather deck.

“Well gentlemen, it appears we have an old score to settle,” Hades stated. He enjoyed killing Rangers, after everything they had taken from him. But, for every one he killed, five more seemed to crawl out from the rocks. It also seemed that as the years have passed the quality of the Rangers had decreased dramatically.

“Get that fucking dandy!” A Ranger yelled.
Several affixed bayonets to their rifles, some pulled side arms and rushed at
Hades. He awaited their attack.

⍟ ⍟ ⍟

Ravine ran the length of the transport
ship as fast as his feet would carry him. He attempted to make contact with
Aqua-Deluge, “Aqua, I’m almost to you, hang in there!”

“Multiple contacts! Please help!” She was engaged in a near point-blank firefight with some of the Rangers detached from Ranger Frank’s personal guard. The captain of the ship increased its speed. Aqua didn’t know how Ravine would reach her because the ship was under way. A Ranger attempted to charge her, Aqua shot her automatic weapon from the hip and hit him center mass, dropping him.