Drill walked up to the improvised podium made from one block of wood with a microphone attached and addressed the room.
"Welcome to the first convention of freedom!" The crowd gave an enthusiastic round of applause at his opening line. "We're here today to organize the first steps toward peace in anarchy. It will be a tough road to endure, but what we provide for future generations will make up for the sacrifices we make today.
"Exactly one week from now, our beloved leader, Big Jim Slade, will escape from jail through the assistance of Troop #67. Raise your hands. Everyone, show them our gratitude!" Drill lead the audience through an applause. "This single event will spark the world-wide revolution, in which everyone of us will take part. Every troop represented here has created their own project and has been approved through our council, to take place the moment Slade is free. I advise you all to watch the news so you will know the right moment when it arrives.
"Immediately following this meeting we will begin assigning items from our arsenal to troops, depending on individual need. Be prepared for resistance. It is possible that whole troops may be wiped out through the government's unjustified terrorist response system. Which is why we need to do this. To rid ourselves of governments forever!"
After the applause died down, Drill's tone became solemn. "As an added bonus, we have a special guest today. Bring that punk to me," Drill ordered, pointing directly at Chance. This didn't look good.
Once his minions had Chance in possession, he continued. "This man has been found guilty by the counsil of collaborating with Tex Murphy, Resistance Enemy #1, for the destruction of our noble organization. He was presumed dead until he arrived here today. This crime is punishable by death, which is to be carried out immediately. Do I have any volunteers?" Several men from the audience hurriedly ran on stage and were issued rifles while Chance was tied against a support rod. "You-" Drill pointed at Tex, "come up here, too. You're dressed for it. Don't be shy!" Reluctantly, Tex came on stage.
They handed him a rifle and pointed him in Chance's direction. While everyone was loading their guns and practicing aim, another counsil member walked up to Drill and told him something private. Drill returned to the microphone. "I'm sorry, Mr. Executioner. It was just pointed out to me that our rulebook does not permit members to hide their faces when they kill someone. It isn't honorable. But I do love your mask." Someone approached Tex and he offered his gun...as if to say he would rather give up the privilege than give up the mask. Some punk next to him grabbed the mask from behind and tore it off.
Suddenly the room became silent. Apparently Tex had been a feature article in their monthly newsletter or something, because everyone recognized him. Slowly the silence became an angry roar as they seized him. Drill gave the signal and Dalton was brought up on stage as well, to convict his responsibility to the guest he brought.
Drill was inciting the crowd and dramatizing their crimes as others bound the prisoners. Tex desperatey sleipped loose and managed to knock one of his attackers away. His fight appeared futile, and his struggle was soon ended when a rebel thrust a knife into his shoulder. Tex dropped to his knees as the crowd cheered madly. It took five men to bind him, and I noticed that they had bound his hands in front of his body instead of behind like the others.
I looked at his hands--he had something clasped in them. It must be the trigger to the explosive! His attempted struggle was just a decoy to get it without being noticed.
So they had completed their mission. The explosives were planted and they would go off.
Now it was my turn to complete my mission.
During the commotion I ran to the microphone. "Would you boys know it off!"
It was just enough to make everyone turn and look at me. "Do you know how much work we had to go through to get these weapons and you just want to waste it all on these scumbags?"
By now all the commotion had stopped. Some of the men holding guns looked down guiltily. "Let's lock 'em up a week, and execute them after our day has come with any weapons we have leftover."
The crowd didn't seem to like this idea as well, and began angrily discussing it. Drill gently moved me aside and resumed control.
I looked back at Tex, who was staring intently at me like I've never seen him look before. It was an emotional moment. I was the last person he expected to see here and probably the only person he was thinking about. I wanted nothing more than to be safe with him far away from here, but the odds of that were lessening by the second as the angry men with guns moved closer. He raised his eyebrow slightly and looked down a tiny notch--he had never seen me dressed like this. I couldn't help but blush.
"Sugar has a point. We do not have the luxury to waste ammo, no matter how badly we want to. I have a better suggestion. Let's string 'em up instead!"
The mob responded enthusiastically to this. Ropes were pulled out and tied to beams across the ceiling. The three prisoners silently stood as they were fitted for their noose. Tex never removed his eyes from me during the entire process.
I turned to Drill. "How are you going to hang them? Don't you need chairs or something?"
Drill smiled. "No. We have something better." He pointed to the "Disposal" sign, and I realized that the three men were standing on the platform.
I had an idea. "Drill, sweetie, can I check the knots? I'll make it all dramatic and act like Vanna White used to."
He considered. "Sure. I think we're ready now."
As I walked up to the improvised gallows, I grabbed my knife from my purse and hid it behind my arm. I could hear Drill's voice announcing me. "Here's Sugar, making the final preparations."
I stood behind Dalton, who was closest to me, and whispered, "Don't move," as I cut the rope away from his noose. When I had finished, I put my right arm up dramatically and the crowd cheered. Then I moved to Chance, and cut his noose away, a little easier this time. Again, I put my arm up and the crowd cheered me on. When I got to Tex, I circled him once without flashing my knife. He took the opportunity to whisper low, "I love you." All I could do was smile. The crowd enthusiastically yelled at my every movement. Once at his back, I made a big show of testing the rope while I started to cut it through.
It nearly worked, until Chance shifted slightly and revealed to everyone that he was no longer attached to the rope. The uproar was deafening. I had no time to lose. I ran and pushed the button and then threw myself on Tex when the floor opened. His rope wasn't completely cut, but the force between the two of us was enough to make the few strands that remained break and we fell helplessly for twelve feet.
Once I hit the ground, it took a lot of effort to pull myself up. Tex was coughing uncontrollably; the noose had managed to cut of his air supply for a short while. I checked him to make sure nothing else had happened on the way down, but halfway through my hasty evaluation Tex uttered a hoarse, "Run," and showed me the trigger in his hand. It was at twenty seconds.
"RUN!" I echoed to the other two, who immediately took off, limping as best they could away from the base. I grabbed Tex and helped him up, and together we followed Chance and Dalton as they dove behind a small haven of rocks. I could hear the ticking on his trigger moving one second at a time, telling us we didn't have much time left.
Suddenly I heard one long beep from the trigger so I dove in midair and saw Tex do the same. The heat was beginning to reach my ankles as I rolled behind the safety of the rocks. Overhead, small pieces of burning metal flew away from what was left of the building.
We had made it. It was finally over.
After enough time had passed, I looked up and saw nobody around to give us any trouble. If anybody survived that, they were too busy licking their own wounds to worry about us.
I checked Tex again. His neck was fine, but would probably have some large bruises by morning. It was lucky he didn't break his neck. His right shoulder was bleeding from the knife wound he got before he was strung up. That didn't look too serious, either. It wasn't deep.
Chance had a twisted knee and Dalton had a broken ankle from the fall. Other than that, the four of us had survived a dire situation relatively fine.
We sat behind the rocks, attending to our wounds for a while. I knew the FBI speeder was waiting for us on the other side of the wood, which would only be a twenty minute limp from where we were. Chance and Dalton left to look for walking sticks and leg splints for the remainder of the trip, while Tex and I stayed at the rocks.
I took my shirt off to wrap Tex's shoulder, and used the choker from my neck for pressure. He was staring at me and didn't say anything for a little while.
"Chelsee, I've been meaning to tell you something." I looked up at him. "You made me think about a lot of things on our first date at the Fuschia Flamingo. It's been on my mind for a while, and I actually planned to bring it to your attention a few nights ago--before all this happened. I almost lost you today, and, well, I'm going to say what I have to say right now while I've got the chance."
I stopped fussing with his shoulder. "What are you talking about?"
He awkwardly moved down on one of his knees, and fumbled through his trenchcoat with his left hand. The smell of smoke that surrounded us was becoming more strong, and I could see the warm reflection of the fire dancing across his face while the night sky loomed overhead. I looked intently into his face, which was covered with dirt and had some traces of blood across his forehead. With some difficulty, he found what he sought after with his less dominant hand and held it out before me.
"Chelsee, will you marry me?"
(Yes! Go to 25.)
(No! Go to 26.)