The War In His Mind

Chapter 42

Of all the soldier's on the airship, only one of them survived. He rolled out of the back and approached Abraham and Natasha, who were working their way down from the cabin. He pointed towards the back and panted what seemed to be words. Abraham couldn't make them out. He ushered for the man to calm down and breathe.

"They're...they..."

Abraham shook his head gently. "They're gone..."

The soldier, seeming to hold back tears, shook his head up and down. "...yeah."

Abraham hugged him. He knew it must have been strange for anyone watching, but it was the only thing he could do. It was the human thing to do. Empathy in the face of war was a decisively living choice. It was not brought on by some code in a computer. It couldn't be reproduced based on variables and commands. It was a living, breathing choice that was brought forth by raw emotion and a sudden primal instinct.

"We're alive," Abraham said. He hugged the man tighter. His voice had a distinct aggression that he had never heard before. It had the power of a warrior fighting against injustice.

"What's your name?"

"Aiden."

"Well, Aiden. We've got a war to finish." Abraham let him go.

There they were, the three of them, standing in the wreckage. Abraham saw a hole in the statue's exterior. Beyond the hole was a light. He worked his way over to it. He peered inside, finding a well lite room with a stair case leading to a higher position. He stepped into the room. It was beautiful. Possibly one of the best decorated rooms in all of the city. The carpet was a luxurious red. A warm cedar wood smell filled the air. Golden chandeliers and candles lit the room.

Abraham fought the urge to let his guard down. The ceiling shook as what sounded like a heavy footstep landed on top of it. Abraham raised his pistol in anticipation.

The room shook as a second tremor struck. Abraham saw a large metallic leg appear on the staircase, followed by the rest of the body. It was a large creature that looked to be part human, part machine. Wires connected from the arms and legs into the chest. The metal chest piece was crafted in the shape of crude gears. The long shiny fingers were sharp as daggers and thick as pipes. Abraham couldn't make out the face in the shadows. The creature moved slowly with a defined purpose. It was heading directly towards the trio. It peered into the light of a chandelier. It had the face of a man close to Abraham's heart.

Israel.

His face, though contorted into madness, was immediately familiar. He could be confused for another clone if the hard part in his hair, unique to Israel, hadn't been so distinct. It was cut in exactly the same pattern as the day he cast himself into Downtown.

Abraham reached out for him. "What've they done to you?"

Israel stood there, peering into his soul. "They made me into a better man."

His great arms reached out towards Abraham at incredible speeds. Abraham grasped the arms, desperately trying to break free. There was no use. Israel's enhanced body was too strong.

"They told me about you. They said you'd come for me." Israel whispered. His voice was monotone and full of cracks and slips. "They said you'd come to finish me."

"Who are they?"

"They showed videos to me. You tried to kill me. You threw me down into a great pit of darkness...into this city."

Abraham shook his head viscously. "No...no...that's not..."

Israel shook him up and down as If he was a misbehaving dog. "Be silent!" A nervous laughter overtook him. "You left me to rot...for what?"