Heaven Above, Earth Below

John ran as he could towards Mire’s estate. Towards the last man he could trust. What do I do? He thought as he ran. I’m one of them. I’m a monster.

As he ran, John discovered that his wounds healed quickly, some in seconds, some a minute or two. It terrified him. I should be dead, he thought.

Approaching Mire’s estate, he found it transformed into a massive camp. Thousands of refugees were entering the gates and gathering on the lawn. John slowed his run to a walk, thinking of his appearance. Already, he was getting some strange looks due to his blood-covered state.

He ran his hands through his matted hair, pushing it down to cover his face. Instead of entering through the front, he snuck behind the row of hedges lining the estate wall and pulled his way up the concrete surface.

Staying out of sight, he made his way to the back of the mansion, to the door he always used to enter Mire’s house. He knocked quickly.

No answer.

He knocked again, harder this time. Again, no response.

Glancing around and seeing no one, John attempted to turn the doorknob and found it unlocked. The room itself was dark, but John could make out a thin line of light illuminating from under the door to the inner part of the mansion.

Stumbling through the dark room, he made his way to the door and inched it open. “Mire?” he called, then waited for a reply as his words echoing through the mansion’s halls.

He sighed as the echo faded, then stepped into the mansion, into the kitchen. It was empty, as were the connecting rooms, a dining room, and a lounge. Luckily, John’s visits hadn’t extended to his and Mire’s meeting room alone. He knew the house moderately well and had a few good ideas of where his friend may be. The first, and most likely place, was a study upstairs that branched off from the Wesdon family library.

John climbed the stairs slowly and deliberately. He wanted to see his friend, but did not want to startle him, though, he supposed, he was probably taking care of the refugees outside, something that John didn’t know the purpose of. The riots were over, send them home.

At the top of the staircase, he could see a light from under the door to the study. He stopped in front of the door. Hearing voices from within the room. Who could that be? He thought, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. Then, he knocked quickly and pushed the door open.

In front of him stood the servants of the mansion along with several soldiers, including the Commander. John frowned. “Commander?”

Mire turned around, staring in shock at John’s appearance. “John,” he said. “What are you doing? What happened to you?”

John looked down at his ruined clothes and crimson-stained skin, then back at the others in the room. “Can we talk somewhere a bit more private?” he asked.

John nodded and gestured towards one of his servants, Arden. “Go get the President something to wear,” he ordered before turning back to the others. “Continue as planned,” he said, before joining John at the door.

“What’s going on?” John asked Mire as he led them to one of the spare rooms of the mansion. “Why is Commander James here? What’s with all the refugees?”

Mire sighed and opened the door. “Commander James is here because I ordered him to be.”

John narrowed his eyes at Mire. “I don’t think you have the authority for that, friend.”

Mire wheeled around. “Why shouldn’t I? Aren’t I the one who put you in your position? The one who devoted his life to helping you?”

John crossed his arms. “If that’s truly how you feel, Mire, why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“What would have said if I did, John?” Mire replied, shoving his finger into John’s chest. “I haven’t agreed with you once since all of this started. I said we should protect the Revived. You sought ways to control them, destroy them. Do you know how many people died because of your actions?”

“Tez has to be stopped, Mire, even if the cost is high.”

“High for whom, John? You?”

John clenched his fist, fighting back his urge to punch John. “I’ve made sacrifices, Mire, more than you can know.”

“Isn’t that funny?” Mire laughed, stepping forward and shoving John, who stumbled backward, falling into a dusty wardrobe. “My family’s dead, John. Because of you and your stupid plans.”

John brushed the rubble from his arms but sat still. Dead?

Mire took a deep breath and smiled. “Now I see that you were right though, John. The Revived do need to be destroyed.”

John rose to his feet. “No, Mire. I was wrong.”

Mire stomped forward, his face growing dark. “What?”

John took a deep breath. “I was wrong. You were right.”

Mire shook his head. “I can’t believe this. What’s making you say that?” His eyes suddenly grew wide. “What is that?” he said pointing to John’s arm.

John grimaced and looked down at his arm where a long gash from his fall was vanishing. “I can explain, Mire.”

Mire shook his head. “No, no. It all makes sense now. That’s why you’re siding with them. You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

“I’m different,” John began before Mire cut him off, shouting.

“NO. You are not different, John. You’re one of them. A monster. A traitor.”

A knock at the door sounded and Arden entered. Mire took a deep breath, glaring at John. “Take your clothes and get out of my house,” he said.

“Mire,” John said.

“Shut up, John,” Mire said. “Just shut up and get out.”

John bit his lip, stepped past Mire, took the clothes Arden held proffered for him, and walked away, letting the echoes of his footsteps fill the space between them as he marched away.

Back in the empty chamber, as the footsteps faded, Mire clenched his fists tight, digging his nails into his skin. “Have someone escort him back to the capital and see that he stays there,” he said to Arden.

On the other end of the hall, the door opened. Commander James stepped out. “Sir?” he asked Mire as he marched towards him.

“President Clay sees himself unfit to lead us,” Mire replied sternly. “I’ll be taking command now. Are we ready?”

James nodded. “Yes, sir.”

***

Ralis could only hold Maki close as they approached the growing shadow of the Wesdon estate. He observed the numerous hosts of soldiers as they moved between the mansion and the walls. As they nodded to each other subtly. As they guided, sorted, the refugees. The Revived. “Is everything okay, grandpa?” Maki asked.

Ralis gave her a faint, brief smile. “Everything will be fine,” he said as the soldiers sorted them into their row. “Everything is okay,” he lied.

“Are my friends here?” Maki asked.

“Of course,” Ralis said. “I’m sure we’ll see them soon.”

Another lie. He took a deep breath and sat on the grass. He looked down at it, noting how fresh it was. He noted the irregular bumps throughout the field, then, deep down, began to pray.

***

Tez and Watson stood together at the crossroads, the remains of their army behind them. “This is it,” Tez said. “You ready?”

Watson nodded. “Don’t worry about me,” she said, hefting her sword.

Tez nodded. “Good,” he said. “Once we take care of the estate, we’ll come and reinforce you.”

“Take your time,” she replied. “We’ll take control of the building before they even know what’s hit them.”

“Be wary,” Tez said, powering on his two lightning batons. “The streets leading up to the capitol building are heavily protected. Like I said before, cut the power first.”

“Of course,” she said.

Tez set his hand on her shoulder. “After this, it’s over,” he said. “One last time. That’s all we need from you. One last battle.”

“There will always be battles, Tez,” Watson said, turning away and facing the street to the Capitol. “Not much can be done about that without taking away everyone’s freedom of choice.”

Tez nodded. “Glad you know,” he said, turning back to the soldiers. “Let’s go,” he said to his squad.

“You heard him,” Watson said to hers. “Let’s move.”

***

Mire smiled as the last of the refugees entered the walls of the mansion. He gave the signal, and it began to close. Then, taking a deep breath, he exited onto the balcony, Commander James and Arden beside him. He cleared his throat.

***

“Friends,” a voice boomed over the Wesdon property, causing Ralis to look up.

On the second-story balcony of the estate stood a small gathering of men. At their head stood Mire Wesdon. “Friends,” he repeated. “Your homes have been destroyed. Your country lies in ruin but fear not. I am here for you. I will release you from your pain. I will cure this country, cleanse it. Today, we start anew!”

The crowd erupted into cheers as, at the same time, Ralis heard an uncanny whining noise. He turned to see a squadron of fliers approaching. Speed-ships. He grabbed Maki and dove to the ground, burying her beneath his body as the bombs fell and the cheers turned to blood-curdling screams of horror.

Children, mothers, fathers. The screams of the damned. Concussive waves washed over them, and still, he held tight to Maki. He heard the soldiers firing into the crowd as the fliers approached again. More bombs, more screams.

Then, beneath him, the ground began to glow, like a blooming sunset. Instinctively, Ralis stood, grabbing Maki, and threw her to the side. Then, as the ground beneath his feet gave way to fire, he stepped between the explosion and Maki.

His vision went white, his ears rang. Waves of pain intense heat washed over him, and the world fell into darkness. As he fell into the abyss, he could hear it. An inhuman roar. A scream like he’d never heard before; like the entire universe was in pain. But soon the noise faded, and he was welcomed by a golden pool of light above him. He floated towards it. I’m sorry, Maki, he thought as he entered the warmth of the light.