“Yes, I understand,” Monica said.
Burke let Monica go and went back to getting the guns prepared.
Mike sat there. He did nothing to help Monica, but unlike Monica he had been in the camp for several days and knew that Burke was his only hope. Mike didn’t have the physical prowess or communication to convince Monica how bad the situation was, so he let Burke do it.
Before Burke decided to start the battle, he shouted a prayer from Psalm 68:
“Let God Arise!
His enemies shall be scattered!
Let those who hate the Lord flee!
As smoke is driven away
Drive them away!
As wax melts before fire!
The wicked shall die at the presence of God!
Let the righteous be glad;
Let them rejoice before God!
A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows,
Is God in his holy habitation.
He frees those who are bound in slavery!
And leaves the rebellious to die on sun scorched earth!
God will crush the heads of his enemies!
The hairy scalp of the ones who profit through sins!
The Lord said, ‘I will bring them back from Bashan.
I will bring them back from the depths of the sea!
So your foot may crush them in blood!
And the mouths of dogs may chew upon your enemies!’”
Sherwood Burke screamed the last line. Then he told everyone to prepare for war. The crowd of detained prisoners charged out from the shelter. Through a loudspeaker, a guard in a tower said, “Get back in your bunks, go to sleep! Sit down, go back to your bunks and lie down.”
Monica stood next to Michael, holding his hand. She said, “Do you think Sherwood is the Wrath of God?”
“I believe him to be extraordinary, and he makes me want to be,” Michael said.
Monica and Michael kissed. Monica looked up at the sky and said, “The stars are pretty in the desert.”
“Yes, they are nice.”
Sherwood screamed at the guard in the tower, “Suck my fucking dick!” Then Sherwood raised a handgun and fired.
The Seminoles sprinted at the four surrounding towers. The five machine guns started blasting into the crowds. Body parts were flying. Blood was shot into the air. The sound of human screams. The Apaches attacked the doors of the base and the Comanches started trying to get on top of the building.
The machine guns were firing. The noise was horrible. No one could hear what anyone else was saying. Among the sounds of the machine guns were the wails of wounded humans, screaming in agony.
Sherwood Burke ran at high speeds with his guns hidden. He knew the men in the towers would be more focused on the people trying to capture them. He knew this and did not tell the Seminoles. He ran outside the waves of the crowds, looking more like an innocent, scared idiot than a revolutionary leader. He had marked out where the perfect shot would be and got to the first one quickly. He pulled out his gun and fired and hit the first man in the tower. The young guard was shot in the head. The bullet pierced his brain. He fell beside the machine gun. The Seminoles took the tower, crawled into the machine gunner’s box and began firing at the tower on top of the building. The taking of the first gun gave courage to the rest. Cheers and screams were heard. The sound was immense under the desert stars.
Sherwood Burke then raced amongst the dead and screaming bodies, looking down and seeing his fellow humans ripped into shreds around him. He ran on. He had seen this in Iraq. He was used to it.
The soldiers came pouring out of the barracks, still sleepy-eyed, but armed with machine guns. They began firing into the crowd. The three men with the handguns shot at them until their bullets ran out. The prisoners with the spears ran in. The soldiers unloaded on whoever looked like a prisoner.
Michael and Monica sprinted at one of the towers holding spears, screaming at the top of their lungs, although they had lost all sense of fear. They knew they had to win or they would die there. When Monica saw a soldier leave the building she took the gun from her holster, cocked it and fired. She hit the soldier in the shoulder. He fell to the ground, screaming. Other prisoners pounced on him and stabbed him with spears.
Sherwood Burke took out another tower. The screams were horrible now. The sounds of bullets being fired was horrible. If God was watching, he was seeing the best and worst of humanity.
Then bullets finally took down Monica and Michael. One went through Michael’s stomach and he fell to the ground screaming. Another bullet pierced Monica’s lung. She lay there trying to talk, trying to breath, but nothing. She knew that she was going to die. Michael looked at her and crawled toward her, his guts dragging in the sand, scraping on rocks as he crawled. He made it over to Monica, cradled her in his arms. Her body twitched in his arms. It took everything he had but he spooned her like they were just going to sleep for the night. He put his arm around her and said into her ear, “Let’s watch a movie on Netflix,” and they both died.
The firefight raged on. Sherwood Burke went from tower to tower shooting out the guards until there were none left. The remaining soldiers and staff inside the prison threw down their guns because they knew they were outnumbered.
After the battle was over, Sherwood Burke walked over to the spot where Monica and Michael lay dead. He went down on one knee and said in a sad voice, “The cruelty of politics,” and then stood and walked away.
He walked in front of everyone and said, “I am now Sherwood Kahn!” Everyone screamed in jubilation. The prisoners believed in him for he was a commander who had slept and fought with his soldiers.
Sherwood Burke walked out into the desert. The sun slowly rose in the east. Burke looked around and felt a sense of beauty. He smiled and felt happy about what he had done and what he was planning to do. He finally felt that he was in control. He wasn’t just a pawn for other people. He walked further out into the desert to a mountaintop where Ashley sat with a camera aimed at the violence that just took place. Ashley had been live streaming the battle online.
“Did it work?” Sherwood Burke asked.
“Yes,” Ashley said.
“It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Ashley sat there smiling.
“The world is a sad, strange place,” Sherwood Burke said.
“Yes, it is.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Noah Cicero grew up in Youngstown, Ohio and later moved
to South Korea. He’s living in Las Vegas for now.
The Collected Works of Noah Cicero Vol. I
, a
collection of his early novels and short stories, is also available from Lazy Fascist Press.