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Chapter 5 "Heidi," Hunter says, sounding mad, "I thought I told you to not socialize with him!" "You did, but he barged into my room." I told him. "That's it." he said, opening his door, to find Míchéal sitting down in a chair with earbuds in his ears. As Hunter drew a sword, Míchéal then stood up and without saying a word, drew another sword, until finally asking, "Why, if we're on the same side?" "Why?" Hunter asked, "Why are you trying to steal her from me?" "I'm not trying to steal anyone's anything, except the High Leader's life, like he did to my family and myself." he said, as I could sense a tear rolling down his face. Hunter then lunged at Míchéal. However, Míchéal, without missing a beat, immediately blocked Hunter's sword from entering his neck. They then began swordfighting. They looked like they were entranced by a rhythm. After about another minute of me being speechless at the two swordsmen, and their swords, Hunter's being a Knight's sword, and Míchéal's being a sword which I didn't recognize, I finally had enough. "Stop!" I shouted, however, they weren't listening. Continuing to fight until, Hunter was beaten. He wasn't wounded, atleast physically. Míchéal had him pinned onto the ground, his sword inches from Hunter's neck. "Cut your losses, Hunt. Never fight a man who has nothing to lose." he said. "How did you beat me?" Hunter asked. "Do you want the normal answer, or my own personal answer?" Míchéal retorted. "Yours." Hunter affirmed. "Well, it's all of the art of war. You need a rhythm. Like everything has. If you think about it. Take the bolt-action rifle, for example," he said, while pointing to one, "When you pull the bolt back, it makes a sound, and when you push it back in, it makes a sound. Do them both together in one rhythm, and you have an art of war." he stated, nodding in affirmation. "Wow." I butted in, "I didn't think that." "Yes." he replied, blankly, "Now, get out, before I cut you open like a can of sardines." he said, pointing out of his apartment. We then followed his advice, and promptly left. As we walked around the compound, we saw more and more people dressed up like Míchéal. When we asked one of the people, he told us what it was for. "We are Et Archangelis. Latin for "The Archangels", Míchéal is our leader." he said, in a sort of Southern accent. He was also an African American. We then decided to follow him to go see what exactly was going on. In the center of the compound, there was a podium, and speaking behind the podium, was Míchéal himself. "Et Archangelis, or 'The Archangels' are a group of the bravest men and women I have had the privilege of knowing. We are a motley crew, but we sure get the job done. Whether it is reconnaissance, or assassination, we are by far the greatest rebel militia since this country's own. We do not count days, we do not count miles, only the amount of officials we have killed. This," he said, while holding the government's flag, a black and red striped flag, with a gold box in the center and then a red eagle in the center of said white box, and took a lighter to it, bursting it into flames. Then, while looking what seemed directly at me, spoke up again, "Is step one!" he shouted, "I have met few friends, and even fewer lovers, but, with a family such as us, we cannot go wrong. We are the ones who are in the right, fighting this war for justice, for liberty for all, and for the sole reminder of what had happened to my family, my girlfriend, and myself." he said, again, this time, while grabbing at his left arm, and taking it out of it's socket to reveal it was, infact, made of metal. Then, while raising his right arm, with his left arm still in his right hand, said, "Also, for what has happened to all of you, whose families have been split apart, because of the High and Mighty leader, while he wishes for our death, mine specifically, I will die for all of you, my family, and what I believe is a just cause." Finally, he stepped down off the podium. While everyone else cheered, I could feel myself get light-headed, and the last I remember was seeing Míchéal putting his arm back into his socket. I later woke up with Hunter and Míchéal over me in my apartment. "She's waking up." I heard the Irishman say. "Are you sure?" I could hear Hunter say. "Yeah." I heard the Irishman say again, "Hey Heidi, you sure had a doozy there." "What happened?" I slurred a bit before I could finally come to my senses. "Oh, you know, just a bit passing out out there." he said again. Hunter was out in the kitchen making something for me. "Here, drink this." Hunter said, as he put the bowl up to my mouth and I drank. "Well, seems like my work here is done." Míchéal said, before disappearing out the door. "Now you see why I don't like you with him." Hunter said. "Hunter," I said, "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. Okay?" "Yeah, but I still worry." he said. "About what?" I asked. "About you." he said, "I love you more than I love myself." I am then overwhelmed by tears as I hear him say that, and he hugs me into his grip. "I'm sorry if I hurt you love, but, it's true." he says. That's when I do it. I kiss him, and I pull him down on top of me. When we finally take a breath, all he says, is "Wow." "Well done boy and girl." Míchéal says, scaring us both. "How long were you standing there?" I asked confused. He did just leave. "Long enough." he says, leaning up against the wall. "Come now, I want you both to see something I have somewhat, created." As we both get up, Hunter whispers in my ear, "Are we really following him?" "Yes, you both are." Míchéal says, seeming like he heard Hunter. When we arrived to where he wanted us to be, we found a large instrument, which I later learned was a piano. He then sat down infront of the white and black keys and began playing. A song he put his all into. It was catchy, infectious, and soon, Hunter and I began dancing. I could tell he learned how to do this at a young age. I've never heard a music piece like this in the entire compound before. When, sadly, the music was over, I asked, "What was that?" "Katyusha." he said, "It was a Russian war song, during the War of the World II." he continued, "I learned these songs since I was small." "It's amazing." I complimented him, bringing a smile upon his face. "Thanks." he said, "There is one other version I would like to show you both." "Alright." Hunter and I both said in unison. "Put these in your ears." he said, giving us a pair of his own camouflage earbuds. After they were comfortable, we heard the same song, but with unearthly sounds. It was what he described as dubstep. I liked it, Hunter, not so much. "It's too repetitive for me." he said, "Also, there's no words." "Well, I'm terribly sorry." Míchéal said. "It was awesome." I told him. "Thanks again." he said, as we continued walking the compound. We were then said to get to defensive orders. Míchéal told Hunter "to take me, and get to the attack cellar." Hunter didn't think twice and grabbed me and ran into the main building's attack cellar. Meanwhile Míchéal and the rest of his own group and the others who were armed went up to the defensive positions. As we went into the attack cellar, we heard a song in another language playing over the radios. Hunter then explained it was Russian, and it was Míchéal's. We heard many gunshots, some sounding like pistols, others sounding like assault rifles, then others sounding like machine guns. Then, there was another sound. A sound which I couldn't put my finger on. In all honesty, I felt safer than I would've without Hunter with me. Then, we heard the Katyusha song. Atleast what I thought it sounded like. The songs continued changing until we were told to resume our normal activities, by none other than the Irishman himself. Hunter and I were the first ones to get out of the attack cellar, followed by Mayla, and then other people whom I don't know. We then spotted Míchéal talking to a few of his Archangels, when he spots us, and waves us over. In his hands, looks like an older weapon, made from a dark wood, and a metal bolt, and a small magazine fitted underneath the weapon. Ontop of it, there is a removable scope, and engraved is something in a different language, again, to my dismay, not being able to read it. "Hey Hunter, hey Heidi." he says softly to us. Looking sadder than before, I ask, "What's wrong?" He avoids my gaze, and says, "Officials killed a few. One being Zacharia." He sits down in a chair Mayla brought over, and he tells, no one, about him. He was just talking into nothingness. Hunter and Mayla go to help the others, and I listen to what Míchéal says. "Zachariah was like a brother to me. He probably would've been my brother in law, if I didn't have to leave damned Ireland. He moved over here with my family, as his family wanted a better life for both of them, they sent him over first, so we could get situated, then they would've sent my girlfriend over. However, after hearing about here, they decided not to do so, and after I turned eight, when my father died, I was torn up inside. Then, when I was thirteen, both my mother and my younger sister would be dead, then it was just him and I. When we first came here, we were outcasts, but sooner than later, we would become respected members of this society. Or atleast until Hunter showed up." Then, abruptly, he stopped, and looked over at me, and taking out something he called a cigarrette, he lit it, and soon he calmed down. "It's not fair, it's not." he said, "Ireland was the last safe haven for anyone wanting to be different, but, there were no jobs, you lived off your own land, and my parents weren't exactly workers. They were painters, and artists, so after hearing about this society, they packed up everything and shipped us off to here, a risk larger than the benefits, I'll tell you a thing or two. My father died in a concentration camp here, and my mother and my sister were killed, in cold blood, right infront of me, but the official would've killed me too, if it weren't for Zachariah. Zachariah tripped him, and I wrestled for the gun, and then I shot the official, right between the eyes." he finished as he stood up and then walked away. I wanted to ask him questions, so many questions, but, after the last time I did that, I felt it wasn't a wise thing to do. Chapter 6 The next few days I saw less of Míchéal. I would occasionally see him here and there, but not as much as I saw him before. I knew something was up, but I couldn't ask him. I was afraid of what had happened last time would happen again this time, so I decided a few more days would be sufficient. However, after sleeping the first night sharing an apartment with Hunter, I found out what he was doing. "Hey." I heard a whisper, followed by a jab to my side. I woke up, afraid of who was there, in my room. But, then when I saw Míchéal's face, I was at first nervous, and then relieved it was only him. "I have a surprise for you." he said, getting off my bed. "What is it?" I asked out of curiosity. "Actually, it's two surprises." he said. "Do you mind?" I asked, still under the blanket. "Oh, sorry." he replied, turning around with his face a beet red. After I was done getting dressed into proper attire, I told him he could look again. He turned around, and asked, "So, shall we see them?" "Sure." I told him, and walked out into the night. It was peaceful out at night. More peaceful than in the government's areas. He took me into the central building, and my eyes immediately locked with someone I knew. It was Sydney. "Heidi?" she asked, running over to me and hugging me. "I was worried you were dead!" she said again. "Not me." I said sadly. "Sorry about your mom and sister." she said, also looking down in sadness. "Well, your second surprise, is I have a location on your mother's and sister's killer. If we move now, we can kill him silently and quickly. What do you say?" Míchéal asked. "I'm in." I said immediately. "Well, you can't have those on. Change into this and come meet me here." he said again, handing me all black clothing. When I was done getting changed, he said, "Well, let's go then." he motioned to me, getting on his back. I grabbed onto the bag on his back, and then he aimed something into the trees, and then we were lifted off the ground. In a matter of minutes, we were at my mother's and sister's killer's location. He took out the weapon he had at the defense, and handed it to me. After fitting the scope onto it, and after putting a suppressor onto it, he then taught me how to aim, and whispered, "Pull the trigger." I pulled it, and the shot hit the official right in the chest. "Again." he said, and I did. This time, the bullet went through his helmet. "Good." he said. After I murdered my first man, we left in a patrol car which we stole. Afterwards, we left for the compound. "Heidi?" he asked, as we came into the compound. "No Míchéal, you're okay? No Míchéal, you're alright?" Míchéal asked. "No, because you're the one who would've put her in danger." Hunter retaliated. "Yeah, and I would like to say that, is stupid." he retorted. Hunter then walked up so he was less than a foot away from Míchéal. "Don't even try to do what I know you're trying to do." Míchéal looked confused for a moment, and then a smirk crept across his face. "You're jealous she agreed to go on an assassination mission with me?" he asked, "You have a sick jealousy Hunter." "I'll knock the living daylights out of you." Hunter said. "Do it." Míchéal retorted, "I dare you." Hunter then punched Míchéal in the face. Míchéal didn't seem phased by it. Then, he returned to his normal stature, lowered his head, and walked away in the opposite direction. After Hunter told me he was going to help other people, I followed Míchéal to his apartment. I knocked on his door, and he opened it. He invited me in, and I realized he wasn't just anyone, he was a military mastermind. He knew tactics and war, among other things. I then asked him, "What's wrong?" "I think it's about time you learned the truth about me. Heidi." he began, "I was born in Ireland, as you know, and, my family were all artists, in their own way. My mom and my sister, were both painters, like you. My father was a musician. I didn't know what I was good at, I mean, I knew how to play many instruments, but I didn't feel a passion for it. I knew how to paint the works of Van Gogh and other artists, however still, I couldn't find a passion for it. After we all moved here, when I turned eight, my father was caught playing music, and was sentenced to a concentration camp, where he was later killed. Then, when I was 13, my mom and my sister were both killed, yet I was spared, by that boy who I told you about, Zachariah. We fled our home, and before we wound up here, I was caught by the government. Then, I was made into a deadly cyborg assassin, which is why you saw my left arm was metal. After a month of torture and training by the government, I escaped, and soon, I wound up here. Here, is where I learned what I was good at, and that, my dear girl, is war, revolution, anarchy, and rebellion. I created my own group of elite assassins, as you know, and back then, the society didn't respect us, or did they want us, but as time went on, we showed our valor and heroism in keeping the compound safe. Then, your little boyfriend there, said that I was a government agent, that I would betray you all, and we weren't valued, as they could kill the High Leader alone, and that we were just another mercenary group. I'm not that, sure, there are some who are just in this for pay, but, I am in this for another deeper, personal level." "Wow." I managed to mutter, "I didn't know." "No, it's fine." he said, "I want you to have this." he continued, taking the rifle I saw him with that day off the wall. "No, I can't." I told him. "Just, trust me with this, you never know if you'll need it, so take it." he said. "Well, thank you." I said, walking out into the night with the rifle in my hands. I felt the wood, it was cool in the brisk air. I then pulled back the bolt, which was colder than the wood. It did make a sound. I then found the area where you load the bullets into. I then made my way around the gun, this thing I thought I would never hold, but here I was, holding it. I inspected the weapon, and then I saw the engraving, in that other language. Intrigued, I went to the library to find a book on the language. I found the language to be Russian, Cyrillic actually, and I then proceeded to translate the words on the rifle. They said, "Never allow the behavior of others to disturb your inner peace." The more I thought about it, the less I understood why he would have this quote on his weapon. But, then I realized something. Míchéal has been tortured by the government, his family were all killed, and yet, he still has an inner peace. Sure, it's a messed up inner peace, but it's still an inner peace. Finally, I went to sleep in the library, my head in the book I translated the word on the rifle with. |