Unearthed Read online

  Eugene shrugged, “That’s probably it.”

  “Man, it’s like pulling teeth talking to you today,” Briggs said as he leaned his folded arms onto the mainframe computer.

  Eugene smirked, “You know, I was hanging out here just fine before you started yapping.” They both shared a laugh.

  “Fine then, no point to stop now that I already annoyed you,” Briggs said with a smirk. “I remember when I was a boy, my parents and I were Yuprains. My father had just gotten this big construction job. I was only thirteen, but I was already bigger than him. Not to mention, he had a busted leg.”

  “Let me guess,” Eugene interrupted, “Good guy Briggs to the rescue?”

  “That’s not the point!” Briggs said jokingly. “So I volunteered to join and help out, to pull my weight for once. We showed up on site five minutes early and joined the crowd in two single file lines. My father turned to me, ‘Keep your mouth shut, Joel, it’s for your own good’ he said.” Eugene folded his arms, showing some interest in the story. “Here I am, thinking I’m doing a good thing and helping out, but as soon as I got there, I realized, fear was the only thing that mattered on the job. Good deeds didn’t count for anything and the workers beside me were conditioned for years to let fear run them. I looked up at my father, who never let a hint of insecurity show at home; I saw him crumble at the sight of his bosses. I looked ahead to see a girl that looked younger than me with crystal blue eyes. She was escorted by a tall dark haired man with black, mirrored aviator glasses and a long trench coat.” Briggs broke eye contact because two scientists began to loudly argue their theories near the Ayelan. He looked back to Eugene, “And I thought to myself, my dad’s afraid of a little girl?”

  “Hah,” Eugene let out a laugh, “It’s impossible for a kid to understand what real power could do to somebody. If you abide by it long enough, without putting up a fight, it can transform you. To your dad, that little girl probably looked as tall as you are now.”

  “Yeah, she was calling the shots, tasing people who weren’t working hard enough. My blood was boiling. I would ask myself, ‘How could these grown men allow this to go on?’ Once I got over the initial shock and the day went by, I saw my dad’s knee buckle as he fell to the ground with a slab of concrete on his back. I rushed over and grabbed the concrete and threw it to the ground and kneeled to help my father up. As soon as I looked up, the girl and large man were right in front of us. She had an emotionless expression and was revving her live taser. I tensed up. My father grabbed onto my arm tightly and looked at me with intensity, ‘Don’t do it,’ he said. I unclenched my fist and kneeled back down with my father. We both took the shock therapy,” Briggs finished.

  Eugene shook his head, “Yuprains were almost treated as shitty as the Sins.”

  “Well, it’s only one class level of difference, so I guess it’s all relative,” Briggs said, shifting his position on the flat cylindrical computer. “Anyway, that’s the day I realized that this world isn’t right, and I had to do something about it,” Briggs said.

  “Here you are now, one level lower, and still fighting,” Eugene said jokingly.

  Briggs waved his hand dismissively, “C’mon, Eugene. Don’t buy into their hierarchy. I’m ten levels higher mentally, with a great leader and a sad mope of a friend,” Briggs said, punching Eugene’s shoulder.

  Eugene lost his balance and muttered, “Fucking asshole.”

  Eugene sat on the floor with his legs spread out in a corner of the research facility. Briggs and two of his technicians analyzed the database, with Endok a few steps back, pondering solutions. The other scientists were scattered, basking in the glory of their new found facility. Eugene inspected his gun as his mind wondered.

  As a Remdon, our employment was so clear. I remember the call coming through the transmitter which rested next to the kitchen wall. Jen always resented that moment. It was a little reminder that you are under the control of a higher power.

  “Eugene and Jennifer”, an unidentifiable voice projected, followed by the image of a guard mask that appeared on the small screen of the transmitter. “Present your IDs,” the guard said.

  They both held up their barcoded cards with their name and class symbol stamped on it.

  The guard would proceed once the cards were scanned, “Report for your job assignments.”

  I'll never forget the feeling of being so trapped. Acceptable jobs for Remdons were so limited. Jen was to gather crops within a large group. I was military support with a long range rifle. The fear of being demoted a social class was at the front of our minds whenever we were performing our duty. I'll never forget the day Jen hit her breaking point. All of those articles she read about how to report on events. She wanted so badly to become a part of that. Unfortunately that job was reserved for Dactuars, the class immediately below the Hiezers. Anyone with a brain knew that the mass projection of events was heavily filtered and controlled by the Hiezers. It drove her mad. If I stopped her she would still be here, but I have to repress these thoughts, again. These dreams have to die out soon.

  The door directly at the top of the steps of the facility swung open. “Twenty minutes until the rally,” one of the fighters shouted, “Work is to be temporarily ceased.”

  Eugene looked up. “Alright, we’ll be up in five,” he shouted back.

  Time to start focusing on the issues at hand. I have to help make this group maintain integrity and breakout of this hell hole that we call Senation.

  Eugene quickly stood up, “Briggs,” he yelled, “let's give it a rest and stand by Blague.”

  Briggs nodded and twirled his finger in the air to round everyone up and head upstairs.

  Kentin and Felik loved going out back. The soldiers that kept watch grew a liking to the curious boys. Kentin knew Milos was suffering and always dragged him along, even if he was unpleasant. Lito spent the last few days organizing the booby traps at the back entrance. Anytime a ship came into vision, the patrol on watch would signal for everyone to hide. The kids hid behind the rocks; Kentin always being the most excited to play spy. Lito took it a little more seriously. “Puto!” he shouted whenever he got the signal. At that point, he and his team would promptly trot to the back entrance door and go inside. Periodically, Lito would come over to where the boys were playing to hang out with them. He would lift his goggles up and play along with their imaginative scenarios that changed on a daily basis.

  When everyone was out back, a solider called out, “Blague's speaking in fifteen minutes. Cease work temporarily.”

  Felik was staring at one of the bomb-squad workers planting C-4. “Who do you think controls the bombs?” Felik asked Kentin and Milos.

  “Either Lito, my dad, or Blague,” Kentin guessed.

  Felik nodded, “That’s a scary job.”

  “Yeah,” Milos agreed, “especially if you mess it up.”

  Kentin turned to run for the door and the other boys followed.

  Blague watched as the civilians and fighters gathered on the main floor. He noticed lots of new faces; the faces of Sins that came to join the movement. Blague had a lot of faith in Briggs and his ability to maintain order in a cautious manner. The first floor ledge where Blague and Jeck stood, jutted out about eight feet over the main floor, allowing them enough room to move around in the spotlight. The golden swirls of the first floor began on the wall behind the speakers; it looked as though Blague and Jeck had golden wings of abstract design. Blague stood there wearing a jet black shirt with sleeves that stopped right below his shoulders. His Cryos mark was purposely exposed. His pants and shoes were a mix black and blue, all form fitting active combat wear. His exposed arms looked extra defined in this lighting and his veins pulsated. His Desert Eagle was strapped to his right hip and his blade was strapped to his left. His posture remained that of a leader's and his confidence never swayed. Jeck remained in his Hiezer cloak and refused to remove his orbed pauldrons, which complimented the design on the walls behind him. Jeck looked like a young
fifty years of age. He was polished and arrogant, as you would expect a high status egotistical individual to look. His face was chiseled, but full. His discomfort was masked by his attitude. His hands dressed in black and gold gloves remained clasped behind his back, assuming an authoritative stance as he readied himself to speak. Blague's commanders began lining up on the main floor, directly below the ledge. The fighters were scattered to keep order and patrol the exposed areas. Blague looked down from the ledge and noticed that Lesh and Sabin were missing.

  Sabin looked at the transponder where a blinking light remained stationary for an entire day. His half cloak and hood flew in every direction from the intense dust storm. Mars trotted behind him with his head down, trying to cover it from the dust.

  Either she found that little pebble I tossed on her back and disposed of it, or she's captured, or worse. I'm glad I planted that tracking device on her. She's way too valuable to lose.

  Sabin and Mars trekked through Clestice as concealed as they could. The sight of Mars would definitely raise some eyebrows. The dust storm was beneficial in the sense that the people trekking outdoors had little interest in anything, but getting to their huts safely. Sabin proceeded east, where he noticed each hut was painted a metallic silver. Mars barked and sprinted to the jewelry shop, where he smelled Lesh's scent from her spilt blood. Sabin jogged after him. “What is it boy?” he said as he approached the bloody scene, “Oh my, this isn't good.” Sabin pulled the knife out of the door and inspected it. “This is definitely Lesh's,” he looked around at the mess of bodies.

  Guards will be all over this scene as soon as the dust storm dies down.

  He patted Mars on the side, ran to gather Lesh's knives, and then ran outside back into the storm. He looked at the knives inside his coat.

  This is unnerving, I hope she's still breathing, we can't be without her.

  As he approached the blinking red dot on his transponder, he slid on his metal gloves, which had open creases at the joints of his fingers. The palm of each glove had the end of thick wiring securely clasped to it. He pulled out a double-sided curved black blade that had the other end of the wiry rope clasped to it. He and Mars contemplated how to best break into the hut where Lesh's tracking device remained still.

  Chapter 7

  Lesh spit blood out of her mouth onto the ground. A man took his mask off and gave a sinister grin to Lesh. He had a long, silver goatee and wild, silver hair. His face was thin and sharp and his body was of average build. He pulled down his leather protective covering to reveal a fresh wound on his neck.

  “Look at this, you little bitch,” the man said, laughing. “You almost got me! And you didn't even know it was me!”

  Lesh's eyes regained focus, but remained hazy from the countless jabs to the temple in an attempt to keep her unconscious. “Of course I knew it was you, Nemura. Why do you think I went for the neck?” Lesh quipped in a cracking voice.

  “Going against big, bad Blague's orders? Surely he wants me alive,” Nemura said with a mocking grin.

  “I have reign to use my own judgement,” Lesh shot back. “You're a Hiezer now, what's there to talk about?” she questioned.

  Nemura's grin transformed from genuine to sarcastic. He slowly lifted her face by the chin with his blunt metal stave. “You think you've got it all figured out don't you?” Nemura asked, looking at her curiously in the eye. He looked over at the scarred woman next to him and then passed a look to the men behind him.

  Lesh followed with her eyes and noticed the teenage girl standing up straight with them, sporting a bandage wrapped tightly around her face. Her eyes shifted to a hunched-over Morn, kept in a corner under the careful watch of a guard. Nemura gave a nod. His crew began to unmask; all of them wore grey combat clothing with a strange, red symbol on the left of their chests.

  That isn't a Hiezer mark, for sure. It's not a mark of any of the other social classes either. Is this another uprising?

  “You look like you're starting to have an epiphany, Lesh,” Nemura said mockingly.

  The woman next to Nemura stared blankly at him. She had four deep scars on her face; two of which started from her right eye and extended all the way down to her chin, and the other two mirrored the same marks on her left side. She had medium length blonde hair. Her eyes had no focus whatsoever. It was as if a corpse was standing in the room. The men behind Nemura were of all different shapes and sizes. The common denominator was the symbol they wore. Lesh's Cryos mark began to shine.

  “Oh?” Nemura noticed, “There's life in you yet, Lesh. I expected as much from you. You put up a hell of a fight for someone who was ambushed,” Nemura said as he tilted his head back, while holding eye contact. “Everyone, do not reveal your Sin names to this one here,” he said loudly as he pointed to his chained up prisoner. “It's bad enough she knows mine, heh,” he laughed.

  Lesh's eyes communicated fire, but her expression remained unchanged. She looked up to inspect the chains that kept her raised off the ground, then looked down quickly to notice her feet chained together.

  “Look all you want, you aren't leaving this place. I haven't yet decided whether to kill you or hold you as collateral for the resources I can exploit from your group,” Nemura said as he leaned his face in to meet Lesh's. “But I imagine you'd be a hard prisoner to keep,” he said as he showed his teeth.

  Lesh remained undaunted. “You let civilians die for no reason, Nemura,” she said coldly, “Even the weak deserve a chance.”

  Nemura's grin faded for a moment, “Unfortunately, it was time to make my move. We now know we're destined for greatness,” he replied.

  “You sound more psychotic than usual. Did someone hypnotize that peanut residing in your head?” Lesh asked with a smirk.

  Nemura laughed in a high pitch and slapped more blood out of her. “You're making my decisions too easy,” he said as his face changed to a more serious expression. “I've seen something that you can only dream of,” Nemura said in an excited whisper. “A land mass that sprouted from the quake and was only discovered eight months ago,” he continued as he raised the volume of his voice. “Auront, it's called. Since I just decided you're a dead woman, I have no problem at all sharing our future. This land mass was discovered by a Dactuar, Jason Brink, who was an explorer of our post-quake world. In a trip to analyze the shift in the Antarctic continents, he passed over a landmass that had no indication of ice or any other life for that matter. He later took both me and my comrades here,” he gestured around the room. “The terrain was hardened dirt that resembled concrete. That wasn't the strangest part though,” Nemura lowered his voice, “There were geysers shooting an ominous dark red smoke.”

  Lesh's brow moved, what the fuck is this guy talking about? What planet is he living on?

  Nemura looked up, entranced. The scarred woman focused on Nemura for a moment and then promptly lost focus again, although it was obvious she was listening.

  “I wasn't yet worthy to land on the island, but Jason did. Since then, he's reached a higher state of consciousness. He only landed for three hours and had already become a more powerful thinker than Blague or any of the Hiezers. He's enlightened.” Nemura looked at Lesh, “Sounds nuts right?” Lesh stared blankly at him. “It's something you would have to witness to believe, unfortunately. We are now convinced that a higher power has caused the Global Quake and is communicating to us through Auront. Now I'm not much of a godly man, but some stream of greater power, some force has the ability to elevate us,” he said.

  Lesh let the mumbling settle for a moment.

  “So, you've traveled across the world in hopes to receive a hallucinogen that seemingly has permanent effects?” Lesh asked and paused for a moment. “So, you're a junkie that hasn't even had the drug yet? And that's why you let people die?” her voice cracked.

  “I never took you as such a caring woman, Lesh, I'm stunned,” Nemura flashed his ear to ear grin again. He looked at his pocket watch, “I'm in no rush. We have at least two hours bef
ore our transport arrives.” He pulled over a stool and sat to the side of Lesh, so he can address her and his group. Morn was shaking his head in confusion and disbelief. “Let's change the subject,” Nemura decided. “How about a history lesson on our fine prisoner here? The master assassin, the mysterious killer, the, the, prisoner of a junkie,” Nemura burst out laughing. His crew let out some snide chuckles to support their superior, all except the scarred woman, who remained somewhat catatonic. “Lesh here,” Nemura gestured to her with his hand, “wasn't always such a crazed killer or so the legend goes.”

  Lesh slowly shook her head, “Don't bring it up, Nemura. I understand that you have great sources of information, which is why we welcomed you in the first place, but this isn't necessary, so don't do it,” her voice faded as she spoke the words.

  “Aww, a soft spot? Could it be?” Nemura questioned as he put one leg up on a peg of the stool, becoming excited that he was able to extract some emotion. “So as I was saying, Lesh wasn't always so unique. It was a normal day in the ranks of the Terras. Her older brother was a bit of a rebel, carrying out his duties haphazardly. One Hiezer guard in particular took note of him and eventually grew to despise his ability to skate on the edge of being de-ranked.”

  Morn's attention was grabbed; watching Lesh in action astonished him and he was very curious to hear this story. Lesh tried to analyze her surroundings instead of reliving her demons. She noted the spread out dim lights, few and far between, hanging from the high ceiling. Around the edges of the hut were mesh metal ledges with staircases stretching to the top.

  Nemura backhanded Lesh. “Pay attention!” he shouted. Lesh shot a dirty look at him.

  You're going to regret this.

  “Her brother operated in this fashion for years, until one day, the guard taking note decided to put a stop to it. He followed her brother to where he checked in for his job as an architect. The guard watched as her brother immediately bailed on his duties, to explore the world as he saw fit. The guard followed him for a few hours and when he was far enough away from all the activity, he seized him,” Nemura said as he turned to observe his audience, who was captivated. “The guard covered his mouth from behind and slammed him in the back with the blunt end of his gun,” Nemura animated the motion to more vividly describe the story. “’Bring them out,’ the guard radioed to his unit. Both he and Lesh's brother were in a mountainous region in Vermont. In a deserted area, elevated rocks rested on both sides of them. A black transport vehicle pulled up behind them. Out came a young sixteen year old Lesh, if you can imagine it,” Nemura laughed, “Followed by her mother and father, all of which had ties around their mouths and their arms held together by their respective captors. The guard holding her brother knocked him down and took off his mask.” Nemura paused for a second, “What were your names at the time? My memory’s a little hazy.”