And When Our Children Tell Our Story [On hiatus until I pull my life together]

Chapter 6

Blood and gore warning. Mature chapter.

Alex's PoV

I walk out of the security office, kicking the dead bodies viciously on my way out. Their fault for being in my way. Stupid dead bodies. "Hardcase, hold your position. Jesse, come on."

"Sir yes sir. All's going well over here, a few've gone already." John says.

"Good. Do you all remember where? I'm going to be royally pissed if you don't."

"Oui sir." Lafayette says.

"Alright. Meet at the rendezvous to pick up your supplies." I say, waiting outside of the office for Lafayette to come collect his bombs. He does a minute later, not a word is exchanged as I hand him half a dozen bombs and giving the same amount to Hercules. "You know what to do." I say in farewell, slinging the backpack over one shoulder and going deeper into the prison. I hold a bomb and match in one hand and my pistol in the other, safety off and finger on the trigger as I creep through the brightly lit cell blocks. Can't do anything about the lights, my men need them and I don't want to attract more attention. "Echo, status update."

"All the guards on my end are dead. Somewhere between a dozen and a half and two dozen. I'm coming back inside now."

"Good. Take out any guards you see, but leave some for me." I order.

"Sir yes sir."

"You can stop saying that." I snap. "Just because I gave us Clone Trooper codenames doesn't mean you have to talk like them. It's getting annoying. You don't want to see me annoyed." I stop and roll the bomb on the floor, setting it up against a corner in the cell block I'm in. "Tell me when you're in position."

"I'm ready." Lafayette says a few moments later.

"Boil?" I ask.

"Give me a minute. Almost there." He says. "Okay."

"Three." I light the match. "Two." I prepare to light the bomb. "One." I light it and bolt. I run as fast as I can to the next cell block, taking a bomb out of my backpack as I run without missing a beat. Partway there, I place another bomb at another strike point, having heard a boom seconds before. We planned having the first bombs go off at the same time, then the rest sporadically. I hear yells, but I don't know who they come from. Guards, prisoners, most likely both. I continue on my way, changing my mind and walking casually instead of running, like a big section of wall isn't about to collapse behind me. To my slight dismay, I see someone running towards me. A prison guard. I stop and watch boredly as he pulls out his gun and faces me. His eyes widen and his face drains of color, sweat beading on his forehead as he recognizes me.

"Y-you." He stammers.

"Me." I respond calmly. The bomb right behind me will be going off in a few seconds. We stare at each other, his face filled with fear, mine filled cold calm. Now. I run forward just as the bomb blows up, singeing my clothes and burning the back of my legs. The guard backpedals rapidly, falling on his back. If he only took a few more steps, he would have been saved from the chunk of brick that falls on him, trapping his legs. He screams in pain and I'd bet his legs have been reduced to a crushed mess beneath him. He stares at me, his eyes wide and pleading.

"Help. M-me." He chokes out, his voice tight and strangled from pain. White dust and smoke rise around us as I drop to one knee in front of him. He stares at me pleadingly, his face contorted in a grimace of pain.

"If I get you free, would you follow my orders? Even if I told you to kill your coworkers?" I ask. He hesitates and shifts a little, crying out in pain. He nods fervently. "Okay then." I say simply. I start clearing dust away from his stomach, carefully making sure he can't see my knife as I sneakily withdraw it from a strap on my arm. Luckily, his eyes are screwed shut with the pain. I laugh softly and in one fluid movement, plunge the knife into his stomach and slice upward, all the way to his mid-chest. He shrieks in pain as I gut him like a fish, intestines spilling out onto the floor, thick pink ropes of organs. My shoes get drenched in blood as it pumps out of his still breathing body. I grab his face and make him look at me. "You're a fool." I snarl, caressing his face with the flat of my blood-soaked knife. His eyes are glazed, he's going into shock. But he's still very much alive. I slash his cheeks open from the corners of his mouth all the way back to his ears, enjoying the sight of the man writhing and screaming in pain. I smile sickly at him before turning and leaving, leaving my victim to bleed out on floor. I wade through the river of blood, planting bombs and covering myself in white dust. I kill a few more guards, all with quick shots to the head or chest. Unfortunately, none of them get trapped under any debris, so I don't get to brutally murder any of them. I'm very disappointed by that. Brutal murder is fun. Destruction and death are fun.

"Come on, out! It's about to collapse!" I yell into my mic. I don't know how much time has passed. Time seems to stand still in this eerie landscape of rubble, blood, dead bodies, and white dust and smoke. "She's going down! Hardcase, get out and go to the boat NOW! Kix!" I scream.

"Yes?" Andre's voice answers boredly.

"Get the boat running and get it ready to leave port NOW! Who's out so far?"

"Me, Echo, and Boil." John answers instantly.

"Jesse! Where are you?"

"Almost zere! I'm out!" I run through the cell bock, knowing I only have a few seconds. I see the cell we came in through and leap into it, rolling into my jump and springing back to me feet. "Go go go! Back to the boat!" I scream, adrenaline pumping through my blood but a huge grin on my face. Operation Backlash was a success. The next step? Go down to Georgia or Florida, ditch the yacht halfway there, and repeat as many times as we have to. With pit-stops for supplies along the way of course.

I've worked on this chapter for three days. I'm glad I got it out.

-Bottomless