The War In His Mind

Chapter 36

Abraham stood in front of Israel's grave. In his hand was a selected group of flowers and in the other a picture of his fallen friend. He mourned, feeling the pain of loss swirl in his chest. He wished that his friend was here. Regret seeped into his heart and permeated his mind. If he could have done one thing different, he would have never lost his best friend. The man who sacrificed everything to save Abraham and the city. The man who single handidly restored the city on the proper, upright path. A now silent guardian watching over all of those who lived in Uptown.

Could there be such things as ghosts in a machine? Could Israel be looking upon Abraham? The thought brought him comfort, but not without the fear of uncertainty and the frightening nature of ghosts.

That whole town was haunted. If not by ghosts, then memories of a lost society that pledged alledgience to a madman.

In the corner of his eyes Abraham saw a dark figure starring at him. It was familiar of the figure that had saved his life in the train station days earlier.

"What is it you want?" Abraham asked.

The figure moved forward. "What does anyone want?"

"Solace," Abraham said. His words were brief and his tone was firm.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Everything."

"Everything?" Abraham tilted his head to the side.

"All of this death...all of this madness..."

"You did this?"

"...I didn't want to create this."

It wasn't apparent that the code could even have a humanoid shape, let alone a voice and the ability to think. Abraham imagined it as some mystic God far above the city that moved his fingers in sqiggly patterns and people popped out as if they were seeds in a popcorn bag.

"...yeah? Did you see this all happening?"

"Does it matter?"

Abraham dropped the flowers as if they were chains holding him back. "It sure as hell matters to me."

"One day all of this will come to pass and you'll thank me."

"For all of the pain?"

"If there is no suffering, there is no endurance. If there is no endurance, there is no survival. It is natural to feel pain. It evolves us. Moves us forward. Sparks the passion that sets the world aflame."

"And you want chaos?"

The dark figure moved its face close to O'Neil's and pointed at his neck. "I want you to make a push...to break out of the meekness surrounding you...and go for O'Neil's jugular. It's the only way forward."

"Are you saying I haven't been?"

"You're not angry enough." A massive cloud appeared in the air next to the men. In the cloud appeared a vision. Men and women were being slaugehtered by the hundreds. Bodies littered the streets. Natasha appeared. She was being dragged away in handcuffs by O'Neil's soldiers. She was brought to a noose, which was promptly fitted to her neck. Abraham's eyes and heart went numb and his vision blurred in and out. Sadness and anger were two inseperable emotions- ones that played a well fought battle for his attention. The final image before her drop into nothingness caught his attention. It was her stomach- it was larger then normal. It was large and round. She was pregnant.

At the sight of her and a potential child dying by the hands of O'Neil, Abraham went into a rage. The blood from his lower body rushed into his face as his heart pounded and pressed firmly against the limits of his ribs. The pain from his chest holding in his heart was unbearable. It was the feeling of olympic atheletes dropping medicine balls upon his torso in a rhythmic pattern. It was the rage of a soldier watching his best friend decapitated by bullets and cannon fire while storming the beaches in a foreign war. It was the sorrow of watching every hope and dream shatter and melt into a pool of acid that corroded the Earth.

The man covered in black vanished. There was nothing left but Abraham and his anger. He stormed into the heart of Uptown.

In the center of the city was a graveyard. It was between the river and the command tower. In it laid the bodies of the men and women killed in the assault on Uptown. The townsfolk gathered around Abraham as he began to dig up the grave. He pulled up the body of a small child, no older than a few months. The coffin was covered in dirt yet was in an otherwise pristine condition. He opened it and the townsfolk gasped in horror. The smell of freshly baried corpses rose from the coffin and the baby laid peacefully in his resting place. Abraham imagined it as if it was his very own. He could feel every last ounce of pain that the parents felt. He picked up the baby, consoling it as if it were still alive and well. He held it close to his chest. The townsfolk were visually sickened by what they were seeing.

"Do you see?" Abraham said. "Do you see what he's done to us?"

He raised the baby into the air for all to see. "Look upon this child and mourn...weep for him...and then weep no more!" He couldn't hold back his tears. He wept as he had never wept before. "Very soon we will bring O'Neil to just...He will pay! He will pay!"

The townsfolk whispered among themselves. Abraham heard words of fear and uncertainty. "You might be tired and grieving like I am...that's okay...but never again will this tyrant take our children..."

One of the men in the crowd began screaming. "No more dead children! No more dead children!"

The others, disturbed and angry, chanted in. "No more dead children!"

Over and over again, the words filled the streets of the city.

"No more dead children! No more dead children!"

Weapons were held into the air and the fever of war spread into the hearts of the citizens.

As they marched to the exit that lead to downtown, a missile flew into the city. It was alone, but enough to take everyone off guard. It circled several buildings and struck the command center, shredding it to pieces. Every citizen in the area ducked for cover as more missiles flew out and barraged the city. One after another they struck down the buildings and sent fear into the hearts of the citizens.

And then it stopped. The chanting of the city was replaced with the crackling of fires and anguished cries of those trapped in the wreckage.

Abraham moved into action. There was little time to waste.

Hurdles and debris were swept to the side by volunteer firefighters. Abraham nodded at them. It was all he could do to acknowledge their efforts. He moved fast through the barrage of broken walls and shattered floor boards that littered the streets. He was the first to jump into the large piles of debris. The others had worked around it. He wasn't afraid to get into the mess. It was who he was. A man of action.

A sound of pain came from a pile next to the library. Abraham rushed over to find the source. He found a hand sticking out of twisted metal bars. It was grasping at nothingness. Abraham grabbed the hand and squeezed. "You'll be alright..."