Chapter 2
The Gathering of the Resistance
'Dear friends, lend me your ears... I have news for you which is of the upmost
importance, but I will, however, come to this in just a moment...
We are all here because we do not want to be slaves to this... this thing that has almost
complete control over most of this beautiful planet – our planet!
What is it? I do not know. How it came to be? I do not know. But will I give up on
our race? Never!
Brave women, men and children... we are the resistance. So it is time to resist! They
have the upper-hand, and...'
'And we haven't won a single battle with these things since we began fighting!' A tall
scruffy man yelled, interrupting the short, bald man standing on the dark grey pulpit.
There were many suspicious looks from the people in the crowd and mild muttering
began to ascend. The short man on the pulpit paused for a brief moment and then
began gazing around the dull hall.
'Did I say that this would be easy? Did I say that victory would come at no cost of
ours? Dear friends we mustn't lose hope, for we may be the only humans left. Every
war, throughout the ages, came with its collateral damage – the much-mourned
casualties of war. But let me ask you this, friends, was there ever a war more worthy
of fighting... dying for... than the one we are faced with now? We are a complex
species and it is clear that we can easily be lured into battle over the desire to be rich
or powerful. But are we fighting for wealth, power or any superficial, materialistic
endeavour? No sir! This is far from our cold reality. This is an obligation for anyone
who is able to do so, to fight for the right for us to exist. With this humble request,
friends, I plead to you to not turn your backs and let's face this cruel and merciless
enemy with our surviving spirit and win back our freedom.'
Among the, now very much excited, crowd, a loud and assertive voice echoed,
'bravo... bravo!' A tall, dark-skinned man stepped out from the crowd; he was also
bald and wore a dark-brown cloak.
'What a courageous speech and from such a heroic and admirable person...' The
impression that his compliments were somewhat sarcastic was clear.
'My people, my dear people, this man who stands before you, speaks about making a
stand... fighting and war... as if it were that simple. We all know the truth; we are the
prey and we are no match for the predator that eagerly hunts us, taking from us our
lives one-by-one.
This man speaks of winning this war but knows fully that we are not capable of such
victory, this ridiculous proposal leans more towards suicide. My people, the bold yet
foolish words of this man are clearly spoken through the deluded lens of his own
idiotic ambition and thus his ludicrous desire will surely lead you all to your demise.
My honourable and loyal people, I have not come to you as a leader, I do not believe I
am deserving of such a title; rather, I am just giving you a warning. And I deem it my
duty to take us all to London.'
There was a loud uproar from the restless crowd and the man glared around at the
people and composed himself as best as he could. 'My people, I know the road to
London is one that has been the focal point of much speculation, and I am not here to
lie and tell you that it is free from its risks, but let's look at the devastating facts
regarding our current situation: we have lost contact with both Maidenhead and
Slough and the last we have heard, the existence of human life in these areas is
unlikely. Which leaves only us, how long can we take refuge in this hiding place?'
The people in the crowd had looks of worry and panic as the two men continued to
battle it out like crazed politicians.
'Not the travel to London speech again Alfred; we have grown tiresome of this... this
spiritual journey to salvation. You are foolish if you believe in that London has any
survivors or means of catering for us. We have been safe here for many years, we
have enough resources and food. Why be foolish to fight or leave.' A third man
yelled, emerging swiftly from the crowd. Not many people knew of his real name, he
had a fair few followers and referred to himself as the First Politician.
The man referred to as Alfred cleared his throat as he prepared to speak again, 'we
have been very fortunate in the amount of time we have evaded the predators in our
secluded place of hiding, but I, along with many others, know only too well, that
things are about to change; we will shortly be discovered and by then it will be too
late to escape!' Alfred and the two other men tried their best to convince the crowd
with their persuasive arguments, but a wave of confusion spread across their
frightened faces.
'So where is this hero, your, so called, saviour?' The First Politician said sarcastically.
A cold silence crept throughout the dingy hall, most of the dim wall lights were
flickering and some were even casting large shadows of the crowd, making them
appear like tall ghost-like figures.
The crowd of people, a balanced mixture of men, women and children, of all ages and
colours, stood frozen. They looked around at one another, baffled and panicky. Not
even the children dared to utter a noise.
yet powerful voice echoed. Everyone in hall turned and watched as a tall, frail old
man, with long grey hair and a grey beard stumbled in. His face was tired, painted
with wrinkles and drooped long, his body bent with age, and a few small scars ran
almost artistically on his face and neck, so well placed that from a distance they could
probably be mistaken for tattoos – each one of them telling a million terrifying stories.
The wooden walking stick that he was clenching onto was exhausted with the amount
of pressure that he was applying.
Many people from the crowd and Alfred ran to the aid of the old man.
'I'm fine, leave me be please!' The old man said as he walked towards the front of the
hall at the pace of a baby’s crawl.
Everyone stared patiently as the old man steadily made his way. He stood silently for
a moment and peered at the two politicians, smiling. His beady eyes stared deeply as
he fell into thought. He was pale, his skin was flaky and he sounded ill.
'Richard, Sir, there was much speculation about your illness and... well, we waited
and prayed of course that you would awake in good health.' One of the politicians said
nervously.
'But of course you did!' The old man, referred to as Richard, said with a huge smile.
'Where is Arthur?' Richard asked, gazing around. A strange but familiar silence
overtook the room and his suspicious eyes stopped at Alfred, who was staring at the
floor. 'Alfred! Where is Arthur?' He asked abruptly. Alfred shook his head slowly and
whispered back, 'I don't know... no one does, sir.'
Richard sighed loudly and sat down on the floor, as if the room began to suddenly
spin around him. He leaned up against the wall and fell into unfathomable thought.
Moments later, there was an escalating sound coming from among the crowd, and
Amy barged through the swarm of people with Marcus's arm around her, draggi
ng
him like a carcass. Marcus was in and out of conciseness and could barely keep to his
feet. Although he felt nauseous, knew his stomach was filled with nothing but air – he
was snowed under with dizziness and his mouth was dry to the extent that he could
not even produce saliva.
'Ah, Amy, there you are. Where is Arthur? And who is your friend?' Richard quizzed,
now taking deep breaths and looking paler than before. Richard had been greatly
troubled by an illness to which there was no obvious cure; an illness that was
inevitable – old age.
'Arthur...' Amy, probably for the first time in her life, was lost for words and the
corners of her lips began twitching rapidly, as if she were about to break down and
cry. She shook her head slowly and faced the ground.
Richard's face sunk and the walls were caving in. A look of complete disbelief was
pasted on his face. There was a prolonged silence among the crowd, and everyone had
almost identical expression of despair, well almost everyone. The First Politician was
expressionless. He stood completely still, almost like he was trying to disguise the
fact that he was thrilled that Arthur was no more.
After a few minutes, Richard turned to Marcus with a questioning look.
'This is Marcus, we found him buried deep within the Northern regions, sir.' Amy
muttered as her knees gave way and she dropped to the floor.
Richard stared at him and his dark pupils began to increase like air being filled into a
balloon. 'Can it really be?' Richard whispered.
'Seize that boy!' The First Politician shouted. A few strong men, that followed the
First Politician almost religiously, stepped forward.
'Stop!' Richard shouted, 'no harm shall come to the boy!'
The people began looking around at one another in panic, clueless to what was going
on.
The First Politician stepped closer to Richard and stared in his eyes, frowning. He
then turned to the crowd and cleared his throat, 'come on people think! Did you not
find it at all strange that we have lived here peacefully for so many years; our
neighbours, the same and then suddenly, attacks were launched by Tyler? And his
armies have now destroyed our neighbouring towns – all those poor people. And for
what? Or shall we say, for whom?' His eyes fixed gloweringly at Marcus, 'yes, the
boy, they only want the boy!' He hissed.
There was a mounting uproar from among the crowd and the First Politician's strong
men went to grab Marcus. 'I said no harm shall come to the boy!' Richard shouted at
the top of his voice. The men slowed in their tracks, but the First Politician screamed,
'fools, I gave you an order!'
Richard raised his wooden stick as if to strike the First Politician, but he easily
stopped the frail attempt and pushed Richard up against the wall, 'give me an excuse, I
beg you!' He threatened angrily.
The crowd were astonished at the strange events occurring, never in a million years
could they have imagined anyone speaking ill, let alone, threatening their leader and
commander – Richard. Although, it was obvious that times were changing, with the
Dark-Tech armies invading all the remaining towns and most importantly the absence
of Arthur, the strongest fighter from everyone in the town. Arthur was just a young
boy when he joined the ranks and fought alongside Richard in the early days of the
resistance, he freed many people from Tyler and his dark ways and was classed as a
hero, there were many stories told of him across England, some true and some far
from it. To the ones that did not know him, he was more of a mythical character –
tales of him ending the war and freeing all humans were told to children at bedtime.
Some people in the crowd tried to stop the strong men and the First Politician, but
there was no joy for their efforts and they were overpowered within moments. Amy
sprung up into the air and began viscously punching and kicking the men, but she was
also contained.
The First Politician had a firm grip on Richard, who was still trying to resist, 'don't be
a fool! I applaud your tenacity, I really do, but your reign is over!' The First Politician
whispered. Richard stopped struggling and whispered back, 'I have seen the hunger of
having power and control in your eyes for many years now, it was my loyalty and
compassion towards you father that stopped me from putting a stop to you –
permanently!'
'Well, it's too late for regrets, old man!' The First Politician hissed, tightening his grip
on Richard's grey rags and clenching his teeth in rage.
Suddenly, there was a strange sound cutting through the air. And a loud scream from
the First Politician as a silver arrow impacted his shoulder, sending him flying
through the air and landing on the floor. Everyone's eyes fixated in the direction from
where the arrow came and to their astonishment, they noticed a male-like figure,
wearing a long hooded cloak, with black gloves that did not cover the full length of
his fingers, entering the room. The hood of the cloak was so low that his face was
concealed. In his right hand, he had some sort of gun that fired arrows, but he dropped
the gun and continued walking towards the front of the room. The First Politician's
strong men rushed towards the strange man, some with solid wooden sticks and metal
poles.
The hooded man did not hesitate and fought the men, with no weapons, and swiftly
defeated them all, hurting them but careful in not causing any fatalities. He continued
towards Richard as if nothing had happened; as he got closer, he removed his hood
and instantly, there were looks of shock and admiration from the crowd and Amy ran
forward, 'Arthur! But we thought...' she screamed and hugged onto him.
'You thought what?' Arthur said slowly, all the while staring angrily at the First
Politician, who was in severe pain from the wound and the hard fall.
Arthur moved towards Richard and made sure he was alright.
'Ah, Arthur, my boy. I knew you were still alive.' Richard spoke in a mild tone, as if
he didn't have the energy to show his excitement.
Arthur walked over to the First Politician and ripped out the arrow out of his shoulder,
making him scream so loud that the echo lasted for a good few moments.
'Let that be a warning to you, next time... I will kill you – that is my word!' Arthur
shouted, making everyone in the room afraid.
'The boy! Is this why we are questioning our leader?’ Arthur turned to the crowd, ‘the
same leader that freed us and showed us a way of life. Let me ask you this people,
where would you have been without him? In our darkest hour, when we were all,
including me, at the brink of slavery and persecution, this man who stands before us,
led us to a new life, where we are free! And you dare to challenge him.' Arthur looked
over at Richard, as if he needed permission to speak further; Richard nodded slowly.
'This boy, which this idiot and his group of mindless thugs,' he pointed sharply at the
First Politician and his men, 'would have given away to Tyler, to spare their lives,
could be the key to... the key to end the entire war.' There was loud muttering from
the crowd and everyone wanted to get a look at the boy. Marcus was now completely
baffled and frightened, not to mention faintish from malnutrition and dehydration.
'Take the boy and see to his wounds, make sure he is fed.' Richard commanded a
young girl in the crowd. Arthur helped Richard get to his feet and gave him his stick.
'Lies, these are lies!' The First Politician hissed like a snake. Arthur turned and faced
him in anger, but Richard stopped him. 'Let him speak!' Richard ordered.
There was a thick grey cloud of suspicion that loomed almost impatiently over the
crowd, and judging from the angered looks, lighting was ready to strike.
'What is so special about this boy? I'll tell you... Absolutely nothing! He is simply a
bargaining chip for these idiots to fuel their war! They are going to get us all killed!'
The First Politician yelled to the crowd, with his eyes almost bulging out of their
sockets.
'Why were we not told about this boy?' A man from the crowd shouted, desperately
trying to hide his face. 'Yeah!' Shouted another. And yet again the muttering from the
restless crowd escalated.
'Settle down...' Richard spoke softly.
'Stop!' Richard commanded the girl who was taking Marcus away.
'We did not mention the discovery of the boy because of the betrayal and treachery of
some of the people that reside secretly among us. It was in all of our best interests to
keep this from surfacing but now that it is out in the open, I will show you what all
the boy, gently took his jacket off, trying not to cause him anymore discomfort. There
was a sudden and almost composed sound of shock from the crowd. Everyone's eyes
were glued on the boy, marvelling at what they saw; some went as far as to clap in
excitement. The First Politician, who could not believe his eyes, stepped closer to
make sure what he was seeing was not simply an illusion.
'But how?' The First Politician asked. But he did not get any response, even Richard
froze in complete astonishment as he stared at the Marcus.
'Take him and see to his wounds – no harm shall come to this boy – the boy who is
not bound by the Dark-Tech's wrist-lock!' He yelled while pointing at the silver,
bracelet type band that was tightly wrapped around his own wrist.
'The boy is the only human being not imprisoned by it. He, as told to us by the people
of the past, who suffered worse trials and tribulations, will be the key to our freedom,
real freedom!' There was a cheer from the crowd, but this was short-lived, and the
First Politician spoke again, 'this is ridiculous, he is a boy, he looks no older than
thirteen! Ok, he doesn't have the wrist-lock, but what does that really mean? Nothing!
If we give him refuge here, in our home, then surely they will find him and give us all
the same fate as him.'
'Do not be fooled by this coward! No human walks this planet without the wrist-lock.
Do I need to remind you of a time when every human was in-slaved with this... this
thing? Which is alien to our natural body but yet, every new born baby has it growing
with them their entire lives!' Richard knew that there were many people among the
crowd who had not ever experienced life without it, and although, Richard spent his
youth not bearing it, he himself began questioning how life used to be then.
'So what? Who cares about that? This thing is part of us now, and in reality what harm
does it do us anyway. It does nothing!' The First Politician argued.
'Fool! This thing controls and watches your every movement. It has a unique ID; it
tracks every human and does not allow you to travel over the hills of your own town.
Soon as you leave, you are hunted. This is not freedom!'
'So how is this boy to help us?' The First Politician quizzed, almost sarcastically.
The boy can get through and over the hills and...'
'And what?' The First Politician mocked. 'What? Defeat the entire Dark-Tech army
and bring down their control centre and free human kind?' The First Politician
laughed aloud.
'Exactly!' Richard replied, almost emotionlessly.
'Exactly! Exactly? Are you mad?'
'You do not understand – the boy can travel where we cannot, besides the boy is very
special.'
'Really? What is so special about him? Oh, that he doesn't wear the bracelet? He is a
boy! I mean, where did he even come from?'
'It is not where that is important, it is when!'
'Oh, that is it! I have heard enough, what, now he's some-sort of time traveller? Don't
mock our intelligence, for even we are not that gullible!'
The apprehensive looks from the crowd were growing, fast.
'There's no such thing as time travel!' A man shouted from the crowd.
'The boy is not a time traveller!' Richard shouted, getting everyone's attention, 'he has,
however, travelled through the ages of time!' The Politician, coughed really loud, as if
he just chocked on thin air, 'that's ridiculous!' He remarked, turning to his confused
audience.
'The boy is from a time where these wrist-locks were not of any compulsion and
humans were free! The boy was taught things; he knows about computers and how
they work!' The crowd went silent.
'In the very early years of the war, he was hidden and placed in a cryogenic state –
frozen and preserved.' Richard looked around at the shocked reactions he was getting.
'Preserved for what? And how is it that he’s out now?' The First Politician asked, not
at all convinced. His forehead creased and his eyes glared in scrutiny as he waited
impatiently for a response. Richard paused and took some deep breaths before
continuing.
'The boy has secrets locked within his mind that can alter the entire Dark-Tec system;
he is the one that people, for years, have been searching for! And the ones that found
him, sacrificed their lives to keep him alive, not so we, like fools, just hand him over!'
'So, what is this boy to do? And how long can we give him refuge until they find
him?' A woman from the audience asked.
'We do not know exactly, but we will... we will learn from the boy.' Richards’s speech
began to slow and his eyes began to droop lower than usual. Arthur, noticing this,
ordered this meeting to end, 'no harm shall come to the boy, and Richard needs his
rest; for so many years we have kept our trust in Richard and he has never let us
down! Do not be foolish now!' By this point, most of the crowd was convinced and
greed with Richard – with the exception of a few, who did not make their feelings so
obvious.