At the time, he had explained that crenellations were what gave archers protection while they defended their medieval castles. Ours stood three feet high, were placed every couple of feet, and at the very least would give our gunmen something to hide behind when the bullets started flying. Today, we’d need it more than ever.
“See you shaved,” Kyle said, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “Not trying to impress anybody special, are you?”
Reaching up to my smooth chin, I laughed a bit but didn’t answer. The truth of the matter was that I was prepared to die that day, and I was going to do it with some dignity. There was a different person looking back at me in the mirror when I’d first returned to my chambers to change into the new armor. He looked more broken, more beaten down than I’d remembered. I shaved some of that pain away, and it helped. However, I still couldn’t manage to shake all of the horrors from the past twenty-four hours out of my mind.
I never will.
Turning toward my friend, I hesitated, and then said, “I can’t get the vision of Rodgers’s face out of my head. I killed him… a person, not a Z. Maybe he was right. Maybe he knew that if we were ever really pushed, we’d fall just as far as the rest of the world.”
Kyle turned to me, his face serious, and put his hand on my shoulder. “Only children believe that what they do in battle is who they are as men.”
Letting that hang there in the air, he looked up at the clouds then back down to meet my face. “Just remember, John, the true measure of a man is not what they take from this world, but what they give it.”
As I stood there, I realized that this might have been the most profound thing he’d ever said to me. I reached out and shook his hand. “It’s been an honor to call you my friend.”
Once again, meeting my eyes, he squeezed firmly and replied, “Likewise, John. Likewise.”
Pausing for a moment, looking over his shoulder at all the people getting ready for battle, he cracked a smile. “Let’s not act like we’re dead yet, buddy. We’ve all got something to live for. Besides, big bad ol’ Gordon out there has forgotten the golden rule. The house always wins.”
My attention was pulled to a man dressed in the same black body armor as Kyle and me. It was Jarvis, limping ever so slightly. He didn’t let his leg slow him down as he barked out directions and orders. Positioning people around the Yard, he had everybody at work on defenses, offenses. Hell, he even had people filling up our vehicles with our small stockpile of fuel in case we needed to escape.
Jarvis had us putting all the right pieces on the board in place, and we were doing it without question. The whole of Avalon believed in the man. We’d follow him to the grave if we had to.
He was standing at the top of the concrete wall overlooking the field when his eyes were averted to something in the distance. We weren’t terribly close to him, but I could see that he was squinting, like he was trying to figure out what the hell the opposing force was putting together.
From the chopper in the sky, Kyle had estimated that there were at least a hundred men on their side, which wasn’t the part that scared the hell out of me. For some reason, the wooden boxes seemed like the wild card that Gordon was carefully hiding up his sleeve.
We had heard a few gunshots while the force held the tree line. However, there’d been nothing for quite a while, and they’d been standing out there for over two hours, just waiting.
Kyle called up to Jarvis, “What are they doing with the Zs?”
Keeping his eye on the field, Jarvis shouted back “Not sure, boys. It’s quite odd. They’re simply boxing them up in what appears to be wooden cages. They’re collecting them.”
Kyle looked over at me. “That doesn’t sound good… at all.”
He glanced around the Yard, as if to make sure we were all set. Then his eyes fell on the setting sun, mostly hidden behind the ominous clouds still creeping by.
“It’s getting dark. Not too long before it’s pitch black.”
Kyle went on to explain that Gordon’s men were probably holding at the tree line because it was out of firing range from most anything, aside from long distance sniper rifles. Glancing at his watch, and then surveying our Yard, he clenched his fist and said, “It’s nearly time.”
8:57—Gordon’s self-prescribed poetic justice was almost upon us. That exact hour and minute that Jarvis had seized Avalon from Gordon all those months ago. It was no mistake that Gordon’s army would be cloaked in darkness when the second hand hit twelve on that final minute. Easier to move in on us. Easier to get close to the wall without detection.
Crackling in the distance, the squelch from a loudspeaker sliced through the tension in the air.
“Avalonians. I said, Avalonians!” The words banged through the air, bouncing around within our walls like a nightmarish pinball, causing the whole lot of us to transform instantly into statue images of ourselves.
Shaking my head, I darted to the wall, sticking my face to a narrow crack, which allowed me to see the field. I knew who it was. Gordon, the bastard, had pulled up into the field in our bright yellow Hummer. He was taunting us with a reminder that he’d already taken us once.
With the Hummer turned at an angle and the door open, he stood cautiously hidden from anybody willing to try to take a shot in his direction. Standing just outside of the Hummer on the foot rail, all I could see of him was a funnel-like loudspeaker and the tip of that damn red beret bouncing ever so slightly just behind the top of the door.
“Jarvis, I know you’re in there. Let’s talk this over, old friend.”
Kyle and I made eye contact. Wondering how he knew we had returned, I could only think of Aidan. Some part of me hoped the kid was OK.
Raising his arms, and pointing his cane behind him, Gordon continued. “Jarvis, we have more men, more vehicles, more helicopters, and enough artillery to get in there without breaking a sweat. We’re coming in. You know it and I know it.” Pausing to look back at his men with what I imagined was a smile, Gordon lowered his head, looking at us from under his eyebrows as he mocked, “The question is, are we going to do this hard, or are we going to do it real hard?”
Hitting the button on the microphone held up to his lips, Jarvis cleared his throat and called out, “You’ll not take Avalon, Gordon. You and I both know this won’t end well for either of us.”
Shaking his head, as if he’d expected a different answer, Gordon spoke with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “I was hoping you would see reason,”
Pausing for a moment, letting the tension in the Yard build, Gordon finally called back out, “I’ve got a proposition for all of you Avalonians!”
Looking across our tiny group, I could see each of them hanging on his every word.
Gordon continued, “Anybody willing to drop your arms and give up Avalon right now will be allowed to stay. You’ll work, but you’ll be alive. Just remember, there’s a version of this conversation where you get to survive the night.”
Letting that hang there for a moment, he lowered his voice and spoke one final thing. “This is my final offer. You’ve got ninety seconds to decide.”
Glancing amongst the crowd, I could see heads moving from side to side, as if each of us was looking for someone to step out to accept defeat. For a moment, I half-expected it, but Jarvis didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t even flinch or look back at our group, for that matter. In his mind, we were taking this to the end.
After a solid minute and a half of silence, Gordon realized his offer would be unmet. I remember thinking that it really was a true testament to what we were fighting for… each other.