Clouds of Tyranny (9 page)

Locke eased himself into the lukewarm water
and began scrubbing himself with the sponge; the harder he scrubbed
the blacker the water got. The old man spoke while Locke washed
himself and shaved using a straightedge blade, towel, and foam
bucket laying next to the tub. “Here’s the word going around town,”
began March, “There are three lieutenants, a general, and
forty-three soldiers here. The majority of them positioned in the
library which they’ve turned into their base, but many others
including the lieutenants are under the library.” “Right, been down
there before, but I went through the library last time. Any other
ways in?” asked Locke as he slid the razor from his lower neck up
to his chin. “Yes, actually. You get on the roof and get inside the
east wall; it’s very wide and accessible. You can get to the roof
of the library by jumping roofs. First, go into my attic and take
the trap door onto my roof.” Locke gave March a confused look. “I
redo my shingles every years so I installed a trap door so I don’t
have to deal with a ladder.” “Interesting,” nodded Locke.

After Locke finished giving himself a close
shave, Locke put on the soldiers uniform and placed his blue
bandana in his pocket. After transferring his many knives from one
outfit to the other he grabbed his Damascus and headed for the
attic. March showed Locke the steps that led up into the attic,
“Locke, they have a prisoner down there under the library, a woman.
Or so I’ve heard,” said a nervous March. “I’ll get her somewhere
safe,” said Locke.

Once inside the attic
Locke saw exactly what kind of person March was; meticulous, neat,
and maybe a little obsessive on cleanliness and organization; the
attic looked like an organized antique shop. “Hmmm,” said Locke,
“Thought I’d be climbing over junk.” Locke walked ten feet to the
trapdoor and pushed it open and crawled onto the roof. He closed
the door behind him and stealthily walked toward the edge and
looked down for imperials; nothing. Locke took five steps back and
sprinted and just before the edge approached, he leaped, his right
foot hit the edge of the next house slipping back a little. He
crawled to the next target; this jump was a little further. “Damn!”
said Locke. Once again he peeked over the edge for threats, but
this time he intended to run the whole distance of the roof before
jumping seeing as how it was almost a fifteen-foot gap. Locke
stretched his legs, took a deep breath and ran for his life. With
each step he felt his heart beat quicker and quicker until it was
time. Locke leaped, getting tremendous height, and he knew he would
make this one more than he needed to and smiled. CRASH! Locke
landed and felt himself sink through the roof and it got
darker,
Shit! I’m indoors.,
thought Locke as he laid on his back in an
upstairs bedroom. “Ughhhh!” groaned Locke. “What the hell?” said a
voice across the room. Locke picked up his head and saw an imperial
soldier lying in a small bed in what was obviously a young girl’s
bedroom due to the stuffed animals and pink wallpaper. Locke was
ready to leap up and kill yet again, but then he remembered the
uniform he now wore. “What were you doing up there? On guard?”
asked the soldier. “No, I was…exercising…the elevations…makes
it…more…effective,” said Locke hoping the imperial would buy it.
“Hmm, I think I’ve heard that somewhere before, maybe I’ll try that
one of these days. You gotta be careful though, these old houses
are very fragile.” “I know from experience, can you help me up,””
said Locke raising an arm requesting assistance. The man grabbed
his hand and pulled him up, “You new?” asked the soldier. “Uh, yes.
Names Thomas Rakes,” said Locke thinking of a fake name at the top
of his head. “Lieutenant Gary Bellum. How long ago did you join?”
“Umm, a couple weeks ago.” Bellum’s eyes strayed from Locke’s face
to the sword attached to his back. “That doesn’t look like standard
issued.” Locke looked over his shoulder, “Uh, no. My personal
blade, grew up learning swordplay. Guns are so…impersonal. Nothing
like killing with the power of cold steel, right?” “Hmm,
interesting. Well, you ready to go to work, soldier?” “Sure, what’s
on the agenda?” “Well, let me ask you this: you have any kills
under your belt?” “Sure, a couple,” said Locke as he thought
Only about a million of you crooked
bastards.
“Well, in that case you can
dispatch the traitor we have under the library.” Locke’s eyes
widened, “Love to.”

The two of them proceeded downstairs and
into the living room where Locke saw a girl not more than thirteen
sitting in the corner shivering waiting for instructions from the
soldiers as five of them lounged around the house. Locke knew he
had to blend in, so he didn’t look at her, pretending it didn’t
bother him. Locke saw a puddle of blood in the center of the room,
but he tried not to think about what had gone on here. If Locke
thought too much about it he’d end up losing his temper and killing
everyone in this room. Locke followed Lieutenant Bellum out the
front door and onto the brick walkway leading down the street to
the library. Locke looked around and saw the threat that faced this
town; two men standing outside every building, black and brown
Doberman attack dogs, and the towns people with their heads hanging
down needing a savior but they would have to wait.

“First time in the town,”
asked Bellum. “Second,” answered Locke, “Say, is there a man here
by the name of Jameson Stable?” The man looked at Locke crooked.
“Uh, he owes me money,” said Locke to counter attack any suspicion.
“Well, you’ll never see a dime I’m afraid.” Locke heart stopped at
Bellum’s words. “I executed him a few months ago. He had the balls
to call me a chicken shit imperial bastard,” laughed Bellum at the
memory of killing an innocent man. Locke’s lips tightened as he
tried to hold back his anger. When they got into the library Locke
saw what he had feared; a large mass of at least thirty soldiers,
far too much for him.
If only I had Ray
and Pearl, then they’d all be dead in minutes.
Locke followed his ‘commanding officer’ to the stair case in
the back that led down below; there were two guards with pump
action shotguns defending it’s entry. “Sir!” saluted the two men
simultaneously as Bellum saluted back, “At ease, this is…hmm, what
was your name again soldier?” Locke strained,
Fuck, what name did I make up?
“Thomas…R-rakes.” “Right, don’t be offended. I’m awful with
names.” Locke laughed as he had a miniature heart attack. They
began to descend the stairs into the dark corridor that housed many
storage rooms for old chairs, rare books, and broken down
bookshelves. After several yards they stopped at the third door on
the left about halfway down this straight corridor. Bellum turned
to Locke, “Guard the door, Private Rakes.” Bellum went inside and
closed the door behind him: the door was a large wooden door with a
barred window for viewing inside and out. Locke peeked through to
see what was happening.

There were three men
inside now that Bellum entered and they were all looking down at
something that Locke couldn’t see. “Talk!” yelled Bellum and
reached his hand back and swung downward to slap their prisoner;
Locke could see blood flying to Bellum’s left.
Someone’s in there…their prisoner!
“If you talk, maybe we’ll just throw you in jail for the rest
of your miserable lying life. Or, I can shoot your feet, then your
knees, then your stomach, and finally your tits and you can bleed
to death for a few days!” yelled Bellum.
A
girl…hitting a girl?
Locke had steam
generating from his head and his blood boiled with anger and
contempt for the empire. Bellum shifted his body just enough so
Locke could see more; a blonde girl with her face covered in blood
that looked about his age; still too young to die. Locke got his
Damascus from around his back and chucked the straps that bonded it
to his back: he never liked his weapon being attached to him but
it’s what imperials do with their melee weapons. Locke was drooling
with vengeance and anticipation. He took a step back and prepared
to kick in the door.

The door crashed open and Bellum turned
quickly to face Locke. “Solder! I gave no order to enter-“ Bellum’s
words were cut short by Locke’s fist crashing through his nose
spraying his blood into his eyes and sending him back a few steps.
Locke swung his sheathed sword into the air and pulled his wrist
back sending the scabbard flying like a bullet at the soldier’s
face that was standing to his left. He twirled his unsheathed sword
backwards and did a rear stab toward the soldier to his rear right,
planting it through his abdomen; so deep he could feel the
resistance of the stone wall against the tip of the blade. He
twirled the sword around and thrust the blade into the heart of the
soldier, who was hit by the flying scabbard not two seconds
earlier. Both imperial’s fell to the floor and were dead before
their heads hit the stone. Bellum stepped forward, “Ahhhh!”
screamed Bellum as Locke planted the flat surface of the bottom of
his boot into the stomach of Lieutenant Bellum causing the imperial
to drop to a single knee. Locke slammed the bottom part of the
handle of his sword into his face dropping him down on his back.
“You fucking traitor!” yelled Bellum maliciously. Locke looked down
at him ferociously as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his
blue bandana that signified the rebellious Returners, so the
imperial scum could see who was taking his life. Locke raised his
Damascus up to his own head in a stabbing motion ready to come down
hard on the imperial. “This is for Jameson!” yelled Locke as he
stabbed downward through Bellum’s right eyeball disintegrating it
just before seeing his brain matter seep up through the vacant
eyehole. Bellum’s head convulsed for a couple seconds before
becoming lifeless. Locke threw down the sword in victory with a
large CLANG! He kicked the door close and tied his bandana to his
forehead, but sadly had to continue to wear the uniform of his
enemy.

Locke looked down at the Empire’s would be
victim and was shocked. The pretty blonde girl was wearing an
imperial uniform with a patch on the left breast with the skeleton
of a cobra. “A general?” said Locke to himself. She was out cold.
Locke retrieved his sword along with the scabbard and put them
together then sat against the closed door and stared at her for
several minutes.

Finally, she awoke and looked around seeing
three dead men and an uninjured soldier sitting across from her.
Then she noticed the bandana and her eyes became wide, “Your…a
Returner?” Locke stood up with purpose, “Yes.” “So, are you just
gonna leave me here?” she asked. “Why were they beating you?” “I’m
a ‘traitor’ didn’t you know?” She spit blood on the floor in front
of her to show how tough she is. “They wanted you to talk?” “Yeah,
they assumed that just because I want to leave the imperial army,
that that means I intend to join Velxeer.” “Velxeer? The kingdom at
war with the Empire?” “Correct. When, in fact, I just want to be my
own person. I don’t like the Empire anymore, they have become too
evil and corrupt.” “Agreed.” “So…you gonna get me out of here?”
Locke looked at her closely; chain bindings clasped around her
wrists as she dangled with her knees barely touching the floor as
her wrists ached from the steel bindings. “Bellum has the key,”
said the girl. Locke went over to Bellum and searched his pockets
till he found the small bronze key and held it in his hand hoping
he wouldn’t regret this, but he had a feeling about her. He went
over to the girl and unlocked her right chain as her hand dropped
to her side, then he did the other and she dropped all her weight
to her knees. Locke caught her under her arms and brought her to
her feet. She looked into his eyes. He saw that she had two
different colored eyes; a green left eye and a blue right eye. “Can
you walk?” asked Locke. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.” As they whispered
back and forth they could feel each other’s breath. The girl turned
away and went to the corner where her sword sat and picked it up.
The sheath had an emerald dragon sprawled across it; it was
slightly curved like a fang and very narrow. “My name is Alexandria
Leshea,” she said as she reached into her back pocket and pulled
out a handkerchief to wipe the blood from her face. “Locke…Locke
Clive.” Locke placed his hand on the door and looked behind him to
see Alex kneeled down to the soldier with the wound through his
heart. She pulled a necklace from his pocket, “Got it.” She smiled
and put the necklace around her neck: a thin gold chain with a
pendant housing a bright green stone. “Ready?” asked Locke. “Sure,”
responded Alex waiting for Locke to lead the way, knowing what
waited for them down the hall.

They exited the blood
filled room of corpses and shut the door quietly behind them. They
walked side-by-side down the corridor. “So, how long have you been
with the Empire?” asked Locke. “Since birth. I was raised in the
army. All I know is that this,” Alex gripped her pendant, “was my
birth mother’s. Been a Returner long?” “Five years. How many
Returners have you killed, general?” “Hmm, I’m not sure. How many
of my friends have ‘you’ killed?” asked Alex patronizingly at Locke
who was giving off the assumption that he thought he was better
than her because of his choice of affiliation. Locke was quiet as
his nostrils flared,
Smart-ass,
he thought. They came to a T intersection and
looked to the left corridor, “That way,” said Alex as she pointed
down the hall. BANG! A bullet flew by Locke’s head and ricocheted
off the wall. “Shit!” screamed Locke, “Two to the right.” Alex was
looking back the way they came, “And three behind.” Locke violently
turned around to see three men running toward them, thirty feet
removed. “You get the right!” yelled Alex just before running
toward the three men with bolt-action rifles. Locke withdrew three
daggers from his side and turned the corner. The two men raised
their pistols and fired as Locke knelt down and flung all three
daggers in their direction; one landed in the neck of the man on
the left and the other two in the other man’s chest as they both
dropped down. Locke turned to see how Alex was faring and he
couldn’t believe his eyes.