Afraid New World (Part 6)

"You ready man?" The voice whispered close to his ear.

No, he couldn’t say that. He had to say what he was expected to say. And before he even realized it, the words, "Yeah, I’m ready," were smoothly coming out of his mouth.

God, he had actually managed to sound sincere when he said that. Gung-ho even. And people didn’t think he was a good actor.

But the truth was – physically he was ready for what was about to happen. After all, he’d been training for this moment for almost four weeks now. He could honestly say that he was now in the best physical shape of his life – he was in much better shape than he had ever been when he was singing and dancing for Nsync. His muscles had grown firm and strong and any extra body fat had seemed to just melt away. He now knew how to handle a sword and how to turn almost any blunt object into an effective killing weapon. He knew defensive maneuvers that would save his life and he was trained in the art of killing with one’s hands. And he marveled at it really – at how simple it was to break a person’s neck or to smash someone’s nose at an angle so that the shards would imbed themselves into their brain.

He knew things that he had never wanted to know – but it was more than that. He knew things that he didn’t think any person should ever know.

The man next to him, the one who had just asked him if was ready, nodded at his answer and then turned around to address the rest of the troop.

"We go on my signal. And I want no fuck-ups. Remember, they’re the enemy now."

They’re the enemy now. The words echoed in Joey’s mind. The "enemy" that his leader was referring to was a small group of people that had suddenly decided to rebel against the leadership of the demons. They had gathered around the outskirts of what used to be D.C. They had started to amass weapons. They had begun to disobey the demons. And they had been branded as dangerous.

And they were humans, just like he was. Humans trying desperately to regain the former freedom and dignity they had once had.

And now Joey had to try to take that all away.

Not because he wanted to, but because he had to. Because it was either do this - fight for the demons - or die himself. And he didn’t want to die.

Not yet. Not while there was still a chance that he might see his daughter again. As long as there was that hope, he would do whatever he had to do to survive.

Jessup, the man who commanded their troop, raised his arm in the air and made a quick motion to move forward.

That was the signal.

Joey took a deep breath before getting rapidly to his feet. His hands tightly clenched the hilt of his sword.

This was it. All his training came down to this. He was going into battle.

The soldiers silently split up into three separate groups and began to creep forward. Joey’s group was attacking the small band of rebels from the rear, while the other two came in from the sides.

They all seemed to reach the encampment at the same time and suddenly there was no longer any need for secrecy or quiet. Battle cries were being uttered as the soldiers descended on the humans. The rebels began to run, some scrambling for their weapons, others merely running for their lives.

Joey and the other soldiers went after them, and soon a full-scale battle had begun.

After only a few seconds, Joey realized that the only way to survive this was to completely allow his training to take over. He simply could not allow pity or empathy to get in his way. Every time one of those emotions would try and make its way into his heart, he would push it away and then he would lift his sword a little higher and move a little faster.

He didn’t let himself stop after he wounded his first rebel – an older man who had been brandishing nothing but a wooden stick. He slashed at the man’s arm and watched as he fell, then he continued to move forward, on to the next rebel and the next one after that.

He was moving forward again when he felt something solid strike his back. He dropped his sword and fell forward with a grunt of pain. Before he could turn over to see what hit him, he felt another hit, this time at his side.

Despite the pain, he managed to turn around rather quickly. Quickly enough to the dodge the next blow, which was aimed somewhere at the vicinity of his head.

Acting only on pure adrenaline, he kicked out with his legs and connected with his attacker’s mid-section. The man fell to his knees, dropping his own weapon in the process. Joey reached out and grabbed his sword, which was only an arm’s distance away, and then quickly got to his feet, managing to ignore the throbbing pain that was emanating from his back and his side.

Joey stood over the other man, who was still on his knees, and brought his sword up to his chin. He was actually surprised to find that he felt righteous anger at having been attacked.

The man lifted his head and looked up at Joey. He arms were wrapped around his stomach and his breathing was heavy, as if he were still trying to catch his breath, but his eyes held nothing but anger.

When their eyes met, Joey almost dropped his sword in surprise. This "man" was a kid. He couldn’t have been much more than a teenager. Maybe just slightly younger than Justin. In fact…God…he kind of looked like Justin. He had that same smooth face…the same eyes…

Joey took a step back and lowered the sword. He blinked as he suddenly fought back tears. What was he doing? He had almost hurt Justin.

He held out his hand in a gesture of peace. "Hey listen I’m…" he began.

But he never finished the sentence. The young man surged to his feet and grabbed his own weapon, a lead pipe, and came at Joey with a growl. "You traitor!" he yelled as he lifted the pipe high in the air and again aimed it at Joey’s head.

Joey’s survival instincts kicked in with a vengeance and he hefted his own sword in the air. He blocked the blow that would have crushed his head and then he struck out. The sword found a target easily as it imbedded itself into the young man’s abdomen. Joey gasped and pulled it out immediately, but the damage was already done. The young man fell down, his hands protectively covering the wound that was now pouring blood.

Joey fell to his knees next to him. Damn it, he hadn’t really meant to hurt the kid! He had just been trying to protect himself. He had never meant to for something like this to happen.

He reached out a tentative hand to where he had stabbed the man, hoping to staunch the flow of blood.

But the man flinched as he saw Joey draw near and Joey pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned.

"I’m so sorry…Justin, I’m so sorry," Joey said as he looked down at the young man who was obviously dying in front of him.

The man blinked up at him, staring at him as if he were insane. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but the only sound that came out was a pitiful cross between a gurgle and a cough. A moment later, he coughed again, this time violently, and a bright stream of blood came flying out of his mouth.

Joey watched the blood dribble down the young man’s chin, completely oblivious to the fighting that still continued all around him. He watched as the man struggled to speak again and he leaned in close to be able to hear.

"It’s ok…tell me," Joey said softly.

The man appeared to lean in towards him, his chest heaving with the effort of breathing. "My name… isn’t…Justin…" he managed to say.

Joey opened his mouth to speak – not completely sure of what he intended to say – when he noticed that it would be a waste of breath. The man was already dead.

The KID is already dead, Joey corrected himself mentally.

The words echoed bitterly in his head, and suddenly he was fighting the almost overwhelming urge to cry. The tears had just begun to form in his eyes when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

He turned his head and saw that Jessup was standing right behind him.

"Good job Fatone. Now get your ass in gear before you get yourself killed," he said.

"What?" Joey asked dazedly. His mind couldn’t quite comprehend the other man’s words. His attention was still focused on the dead body in front of him that looked so much like Justin.

"I said get your ass up NOW!" Jessup shouted.

The angry shout finally broke through Joey’s haze and he jumped to his feet.

Jessup nodded. "Good. Can’t afford to lose you Fatone. You’re a good soldier. Now let’s move," he said, already turning around.

"Right," Joey said quietly. "I’m a good soldier." Then he leaned down and quickly closed the kid’s eyes before picking up his sword again.

Afraid New World, Part 7

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