Nowhereland

Nowhere Land 2: Sounds.

By Anton Basson.

“Can you believe this rubbish? I think this time they’re over estimating the power of the media a bit?”

“Jason, we’re on in five; four; three…”

“And we’re back with the latest on the New Falkland Massacre, today the UN has announced that the island of New Falkland will be place under security blockade until the its leader feels fit to rule it again and that it will not be conducting an investigation into the happenings on the island. We have seen a few images of the aftermath of the incident and we have heard unconfirmed reports of the death toll from sources with in the UN, some of which only estimate that there was a lone survivor,” said Jason Nicola the news anchor of five years, three of which he worked as conflict reporter and of those years he never felt so confused about what happened on the island no one ever heard of. In the past there was always some one to blame but now there was no one; no despotic leader in a third world hell hole wish to hold on; no power hungry rebel group that wishes to rule their own nation and no super power that invading a small oil rich country to stop terrorists. Jason continued “We have no answers as of yet but we have been granted permission to broadcast an audio recording of what we assume to be combat troops. We warn you that this may not be suitable for young children and sensitive viewers”

In his mansion in Grand Cayman an aged man sat watching the television with great interest at first but then with horror as he heard the sounds of a voice belonging to a man in his final moments. He had known of the other voices, but this was the one that a father dreads the most; the sound of ones son voice: the sound of ones son’s death and eventually Anthony Merkava heard would just here sounds, but he would never gain the answers to the questions that madden him to the point that he nearly contemplated killed the one woman who might give him answers and beyond. 

It had been two weeks since Peace had returned to her home in New York; it wasn’t much sparsely furnished, no chairs just a bed TV and kitchen table, with grey walls. Grey a colour she both hated and loved. The colour of her childhood, of her mother and father, of people she saw on her Island and of the carnage she witnessed. She was still hurt by them: damaged but she still felt love towards them, her parents, the ones that could not.

A knock at the door distracting Peace back into the present. As she walked slowly towards door she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, as they always did in anticipation for the worst; like when her mother would come home crying from work or when her mother took her to the meadow or when she went to find her that night ten years ago and knew that the world as she knew it then would end. She opened the door to be greeted by an old man, his face was mildly familiar it reminded her of some one in her past. “Is this the residence of Peace Bates?” he asked.

“It is and you are?”

“Just a man looking for his son. May I come in?”

“Yes” Peace said opening the door to let this man in. “I’m sorry you will have to stand I don’t own any chairs”

“I see that. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Anthony Merkava and I am lead to believe that you are the only person to have survived. So tell me what happened to my son David.”

“He worked for my father and he died like any one else.” when Peace started she knew that he would listen. “It is a long story. My father owned every single arms and aerospace company in the world; some how he managed to have them operate independently but still so that he could take the profits and fund the real development facility. He called his company Ultimate Peace Solutions because he believed that only destruction would save the world.”

Peace took awhile explaining the functions of the company and the Island, everything even the resurrections. It had already dawned and yet Anthony Merkava sat there listening not saying a word. Finally she began “What do you want to know Mr. Merkava?” He wasn’t sure how to respond he hadn’t grasped the fact that her father could use his wife, the mother of the child, to create an army of undead to be killed over and over again to make better ways for countries to off each others population. He wasn’t sure all he knew what he wanted he had too many questions now. He looked up and… nothing. Peace questioned him again, “What do you want to know? The truth of what happened or the reality of what happened, if you want the truth you can read it in any document regarding the matter but reality is something different I told the truth but I’m not sure it’s what you want to hear so tell me what do you want?”

Anthony sat there he was considering what he had been told but it was too fantastic and yet something in Peace’s tone made him believe it was true. He looked up his eyes were eager to know the truth. Peace started again, it was surreal, descriptive: he could picture every thing she was telling him, he was there.

Peace and Rain sat in the limbs of the tree enjoying the cool air and the peacefulness of the meadow it was located in and yet there was a hint of dread in the mood. They hadn’t said anything to each other. This was the only place that they could be together on the island; the only place not set apart for the study of destruction. Rain said “Your father has brought in some one new, no doubt to take over my project. First my father and now some stranger.” Peace wasn’t sure why her mother was going on like this but she knew that her father often removed her mother from projects and that her mother usually tried to kill herself. “I can’t believe that he does it every time I near the completion of a project he hands it over”

There once had been a tire swing attached to the tree. Some rope remand behind. Of all the places Peace had spent time with her mother this was the only place that had happy memories. It wasn’t going to last. Rain quickly tied a noose and through herself off the branch. It must be true what they say practice makes prefect. Peace ran like she always did in these situations but this time it wasn’t to get help she had to get away it was too late to get help. Rain’s neck snapped/ instant.

Peace ran and ran and ran, she didn’t even read the signs warning her of the danger and then every thing went white and warm. She wasn’t harmed in the explosion but she spent most that day and night dodging ordinance. Eventually she was rescued.

The first and last time she met Ozmand Jones was in a cold grey “consoling room”. She liked him instantly, but she couldn’t let him know how she felt.

“Peace how you doing.”

“Alright. My mother killed herself and I spent the rest of the time dodging bombs.”

“Most people, you know, avoid the question. They tend to be defensive after...”

“Seeing someone die? I, I didn’t see anything.”

“But you were t…”

“Are we done?”

“um, Yes you may go.”

She nearly slipped up. She left the room and proceeded directly to where her mother and mother lived it always felt so empty and loveless but it was comforting. She went to sleep quickly and only woke late the following evening. She didn’t know but she had too see her mother and she knew where she was. She knew all about the horrors in Building A-7. And knew that’s where she had to go.

She found her father on the way to a lift. “FATHER!” she shouted. He turned never emotional. “What do you want?” he said.

“I want to see my mother.”

 “Do you want to see your mother?”

“That’s what I said didn’t I. I know you turned her into one of those things.”

“Very well.”

She climbed into the lift with the man she couldn’t help but love unconditionally. And he always suspected that she knew more about this place than what she had been told. The doors opened and there was “Mommy.”

When Peace first saw her mother that night she couldn’t believe that the crumpled industrial spill before her was indeed he mother.

“Father what gives you the right to play God.” Her tone was choked.

“Because God and The Devil are the same, they are men with…”

“Guns? And because you make most guns that make you the God of Gods?”

“He is both.”

Peace look down she barely heard the creature speak.

“I’m sorry for abandoning you, for you having to watch me die and for what I’m know, arch-angle.”

“ssssh.It’s fine he’ll turn you back.”

“Run. Hide by the tree.”

“What?”

“The Arc-Angle shall punish the creatures of this hell, but your mother will keep you safe.”

Arc- Angle? She had heard her father and mother talking about it when she had been  “sleeping”. It was supposed to control the resurrections and Edward Bates her father had turned her mother into it. And she ran blindly noticing everything along the way but not processing it. All the alarms and the Forth Sniper security personnel trying to evacuate people and fight off the resurrections and losing. When she reached the meadow and tree it had become a garrison unit. Tanks, howitzers and machine gun nests became one with barbed wire and the noise of helicopters preparing for a hot extraction en mass. Peace had just made it inside when all hell broke lose. The line of choppers erupted into flame followed by the arms of the Fourth Sniper. Peace found an unoccupied fox hole and balled up in it. For hours the sound lasted.

“ A grenade landed in my hole and David grabbed it and was throwing it back when it went off and nothing it all stopped after that nothing was left alive. When I was rescued I was lock up for five years to recover and nothing was done. They ignored the situation and could blame no one so the left it. It’s been ten years I’m going back with a friend do want us to bring him back?”

Anthony was in tears when he gave his answer. “No. Thanks for the help I think I should rather go home.”

“ Are you sure?”

“No I am fine”

The old man didn’t look fine. But no one that was connected to UPS looks fine, so thought Peace.