chapter 1: the memories, the mark, the man

my whole body burned as my finger rested against the trigger, the gun felt like a blimp, so akward in my hands as it rested apon my leg. Sweat pooled under my eyes after hours on not blinking, my foot stung after 2 straight hours of leaning it against the rusty metal railing...its always the little things that anger you the most. The air was so humid that day in aringrade, when my mark stepped out of the building I could hardly see him with all the condensation on the scope of my M25 sniper rifle....I hated that gun that day for just 2 reasons...one it was too heavy....I could never escape with it and that'd mean another weapon in the hands of the enforcer corps and two...if I were to be discovered.....heh.....I would be so screwed...automatic weapons against a semi automatic sniper rifle that jammed in the dust filled air more than a pocket watch ? My charms can only get me so far. 4 guards protected him like a priceless jewel...he wasn't worth even my time. I planned it out in my own personal way...I added my signature to this liberating affair, I took my first shot and took out the 2 guards at his right, he ducked and the other 2 men pulled out thier automatic pistols spraying them wildley into the distance, The warm air licked at my face as my finger drew itself to do the deed again, the bullet sped out like a a wasp homing in on a juicy catapilar, it could smell his blood before it could see him. The bullet cradled itself into his chest like a newborn babe looking for warmth...to which he graciously accapted.The last gurad witnessed his friend grab hold of his chest and sink to his knees in pain and at that sight turned tail and ran...I let him go...damn my wretched heart .Finaly came the mark...his hair slick with gel became quite the attraction for me as he ducked behind burnt out cars and industrial pipes looking for salvation....he would find none...My next shot stuck in his lower leg and with a sickly snap I heard his cries from the rooftops, like a dying cat he crawled on his hands and knees behind a rusty truck. I let my mind pause for a seconds or two to wonder a few things about this man, who was he ? why was he here selling out his own people ? did he have children ? did he have a wife? would his death really effect things all that much? These questions and more ripped at my mind and heart but i knew my humanity had to give way to relivance at this moment.....I could hear his breath in my head...I could hear him saying please no...please no...but like salvation..he would find no mercy from me...and hopefully god would not find mercy on me for what i did next. I pulled the trigger and instantly the blood pooled around the bottom of the truck the body went limp....I bowed my head and silently apologised for what i had done. I have killed people, many people in these desperate times but killing them like this always seems more...personal...more.....in control..when its with automatic weapons adrenalin fuels you and you are ducking in and out so much you cant even see what you are hitting but like this...we let our sick minds wander and play with our victims....my god I have truly lost something fighting the enforcer corps but more than my humanity has been lost...my will to see anything i do in this civil war as good and virtuouse has been lost as well...its gone on for so long....so long after he betrayed us all...sold us out to his own selfish, glutinous hunger for power. he promised us peace and prosperity...you'd think after years of bieng lied to the human race would wise up.....but no....he fooled us...renamed our cities....took our freedoms.....drained us of our wills, our hopes, and of our basic tenacity........he killed all who aposed him...men...women....children......why is it only under a banner of hate and oppression are we treated with true equality ? I shaked my mind of these questions and reflections and gripped the rusty pole with my gloved hands and slid down. The wind ripped and lifted at my orange hoodie and at the bottom of my blue jeens, and as I hit the ground with my worn sneakers I lifted my head to see the trucks roaring down the sandy road and with thier sight I was off at a break neck speed ducking and slidding under old cars and lamp posts but now I am safe back in my little shack on what was 12th avenue.....2 weeks have passed since then and I have new orders.....so ill Tell you 3 things right now......My name is Robert...I am a member of "rust".....and though I have started this story...I will not be the one to finnish it.


chapter 2: just to let you know


Its 10:30 eastern time...I sit up in bed and feel the scars running accross my chest, the feel like the rings of a tree....counting the horrors of my life...the first when i was but a child....not even 14.....an enforcer had shoved my father to the ground and started beating him....no good reason...my father was a merchant and he didn't have a trade license...couldnt afford one.....the enforcer had said " He knew the law and he broke it knowingly, deserves a hanging don't ya think kid?" he had asked me...unaware I was his son. When he started to beat him I stood there....with a scale in my mind weighing the options and of course..the love for my father out-weighed the thought of a public execution, I ran up and punted the enforcer in the kidney and he rolled over like a dying mutt, I brought the heel of my boot down apon the enforcers chest and his mouth arose a sharp stale breath. I then procceded to rip off his mask and as my fists pumbled him unmerciful iI noticed something quite disturbing,, he was just a year or two older than me! Regardless this did nothing to detour my anger at him nor did it diswage my carlesness for my own life. unfortunately my anger blinded me. He caught a lucky opening and slammed my face to the ground, He rose to his feet and pulled out his pistol, his breath was paniced and sharp, his face was bloody and grity. His blonde crewcut hair shined bright in the sun but gave him a look of great arrogance, both his fingers and his eyes twitched against the trigger of his weapon. Finnaly he lowered it and gave me a look, a look that almost said...." I have not the audacity to shoot a child but i know many who do." A threat I took much to lightley. I felt like a god that day...I had stood agianst what in my mind was an all powerful force and I felt invincible. Then a week later...they came for me.....late at night when the moon was shinning its brightest, I could see the look of anger, sorrow, and shock on my fathers face as an enforcer beat him down with the butt of his rifle, they beat me me...drug me out of my bed and into the back of a dark van...i kept blacking out...couldn't tell where we were......I was tied to a chair in the middle of a room with a single light above my head...if my head werent throbbing and bloody i could almost appriciate the cliche. I was beateng and tazed that entire night. In the morning I was dragged to face the sun.....the building as it was, was an old abandonned gas station...I had almost felt offended " why not a swanky torture chamber?" but the time for smart cracks was over. A man approched me...it was the same enforcer from before....His blue eyes were alive with joy at my precense and his laugh was still as asanine as ever, they strung me up to a pole with my shirt torn off...the enforcer laughed and said I was lucky...he begged the higher up's for this rather than the execution......This apperently wasn't his first time using the whip....he was skilled enough to whip the same place.....23 times....I owed my life to that enforcer for choosing to be a sadist rather than a murderer...and i was grateful..but at that moment nothing would have made me happier than to have my hands around his throat....I couldnt stand up...they drug my back to the van and drove me home.....when we got there they pushed me out onto the hot sandy ground. My father came running out crying and hugging me....saying it was all his fualt..that he was to blame.....I felt no anger...no..resentment towards my father for what had happened to me but something was born that day...a rebel was born that day.....and the enforcer corps had no one to blame but themselves for this. Im still sitting here..rubbing my chest..feeling all my past mistakes...my past pride...my past regrets....I sit up...I put on my orange hoodie, my pants, and my shoes and I walk out my door toward the southern markets.....Its such a bright day, its a shame where im going is cold and dark.