[PROJECT: TEAMWORK] Boulders, Bills, and Blades

*WHEN WE WERE DRAFTED*

I don't know why I lied to him. I don't know why I went along with his plans for so long. I don't know why I didn't tell him about Billy. I'd like to think it was because I loved him. Because he was cute at the very least. That's probably not the truth though. When I think about it, it had nothing to do with him. It was all inside of me. The way I explained it to myself was that he was the key I had used to open the combination safe Billy had locked me in.

I met Toolbox Aldahl in basic training. Neither of us had been very skilled at dodging the draft. Though I saw him almost every day at the time, we had very little time for socializing. It wasn't until we were both coincidentally sent to Ilhéus that we really learned anything about one another.

It was a sunny tourist city near the Atlantic Ocean. Some high ranking military analyst determined it was one of the locations most likely for Zero Branders to attack. Evidently that guy wasn't too good at his job.

During that war, the closest to Ilhéus an attack came was over 100 miles away from the city. While I did end up having to fight in that battle, that didn't happen until 21 months after I arrived in South America. That left Toolbox, me, and the rest of the troops with us almost two years to enjoy a tropical beach and beautiful city.

Toolbox and I became close with each other. We spent many days just talking. As you know from reading above, we eventually fell in love. Of course by that I mean that he fell in love while I used him to deal with my emotional problems. He was the first to start calling me Jan. Everyone else still called me Avalanche (because of my tendency to knock anything down when it got in my way). Toolbox said my real name suited me better, he would never tell me what his was though. I simply knew it began with an H. from his ID. It was the practice of the military at that time to not publish the full names of soldiers on any easily accessible documents.

Regardless of his name, he didn't want to be there. It wasn't the location, he just hated being a soldier. He told me stories about a place he came from. It was a sort of school for people who were tired of never learning anything. He said it was also a home for hundreds of people with no where to go. Something horrible happened there. I never found out what. He just told me that he really didn't need any more death in his life.

He would tell me about his plans to cause havoc, bring down the military, and escape. His ideas entranced me. I told him I agreed, that I hated war and the draft as much as him, and we had no business being there. As Toolbox began to encompass my world, I pushed the vows I had made to Billy far out of my head. With those gone, it became easier to spend all of my off time with Toolbox, to tell stories about where'd we'd be today if our numbers hadn't been drawn , to hold his hands, kiss his lips, lie with him every night, and tell him almost all my secrets.

With the passing time, Toolbox became increasingly serious about his plans. He would analyze them repeatedly looking for any flaw. The two of us began gathering supplies. It concerned me exactly how much he was getting into this, though at the same time it was absolutely exhilarating.

I've spent many hours thinking about my last week with Toolbox. Zero Branders were suspected as the cause of three riots that had occurred in the northern countries. It was decided we were to take a ship up the coast to the Brazil border. We were given very little exact information, other than to shoot when ordered. Toolbox saw this as the perfect moment for his plans to come to life. Each day we would secretly fill every crevice of the ship with the explosives I had helped him gather. The plan was that the two of us would jump ship once we got close enough to land. Toolbox would then detonate the bombs with a remote control, and we would use the incident as a peace offering to the Zero Branders so that we could escape the country under their protection.

During this time, Toolbox and I acted the same to each other. We still saw each other as much as we could, though considerably less than we had back on Ilhéus. I still sneaked into his room every night. I continued helping move along his conspiracy plans. My thoughts about him completely changed though.

When the news came one morning that we were less than ten miles away from land, I felt like I had just been punched in my stomach. I knew it was coming fast. Tonight, maybe. Tomorrow night at the latest. Toolbox was planning to blow up the ship very soon and only I knew it.

We sat on the deck polishing our rifles. We spoke about what was to happen using code words we had developed over the months. He was afraid taking a lifeboat would be too noticeable. He asked me how well could I swim. I thought of all the promises I had made. I thought of what going through with Toolbox's plan would mean. Billy's face flashed into my mind. I turned to Toolbox. I said I'd been keeping something from him, that I now needed to tell him. He asked me what. I looked into his eyes and forced the words out.

"I was never drafted. I enlisted myself."

By this time I had already tilted my rifle up without him noticing. I pulled the trigger and blood flew from the side of his head. I threw his body into the ocean. When it was learned I had disposed of a spy, I became a hero. Toolbox's plan would have never worked out anyway. The riots in the northern countries hadn't been orchestrated by Zero Branders. There wasn't anyone for him to run to.

*WHEN WE WERE CURED*

"You reading those bull crap comics again, Honor?"

I tried to ignore Barter's voice. I was tired of having to justify everything I did to him.

"Which one's this, the girl who turns into a thief or the dude who's on fire?"

I groaned.

"The fire guy."

"Oh, Fire Freer or whoever."

"Freedom Fire," I corrected him.

"He's going to be stupid no matter what name you call him by."

I set the comic down on the dining room table and turned around in my chair to face Barter, noticing he had left open the door to our apartment and thrown the bags he had brought with him from the store onto our already cluttered coffee table. He was now sitting on the couch burying his face into a novel trying both to pretend that nothing had just happened and to find a place for his feet somewhere on the overcrowded coffee table.

"Oh, and what are you reading?" I asked.

"The new Frederick Lincoln book," he answered without looking up.

"Which one's that, The Spring of Iron Ore? Or is it The Season of More Pointless Elf Magic?"

"It's The Summer of Air. I'd try to explain it to you, but I doubt you would understand any sort of literature with a meaning, let alone no drawings."

"That rubbish is a half-assed attempt at children's stories."

"This is coming from the grown man who still reads picture books."

"At least my picture books are written by half-way original authors. That Lincoln guy just took four seasons and four hyper-clichéd elements and was like, 'I'll write four idiotic books with a bunch of elves in them. Hm, The Winter of Water? How about the elves have to deal with a really cold flood.' My goodness, man, it's mind decaying."

"The title had so many more meanings than just that. Come on, there was also the march of the Liquid Army. Or how about the tragic drowning of Mil. Oh, or the shocking ending in which it is revealed the Dark Leviathan and Hander were the same person. Does your Freedom Fire have any sort of complex plot or symbolism like that, huh? What's the title of this month's story? I'm sure it will blow me away."

"'Miss Whitney's Bosom.'"

"Wow, that's wonderful. Care to give any meaningful insight into that?"

"Sure, it's a joke. I'm only half way through the issue and already Zachary Hart, er, the fire dude, has discovered two of his friends murdered, the whereabouts of his family, and the true identity of the new Black Jacket; but with all those important plot revelations the title acts like the most important thing was that on the first page Zach accidentally walks in on Alice Whitney naked in the bathroom. It means that not every form of entertainment has to be stuffed with pseudo-deep philosophy and full of freaking elves!"

Barter moved himself quickly so that his back was toward me and started reading his novel intensely. I turned back around and picked my comic off of the dining room table. After a minute of silence I spoke up.

"Dude, I'm sorry. They're just books. Let's find something to agree on."

"Like what?" he asked still faced away from me.

"Well, I don't know. I mean, I think werewolves are about the coolest things ever."

"Really?" His voice perked up.

"Hell yeah, man."

"Cool, because I think they're badass also."
***

After Jan had shot me, a young man named William Barter found me in the water. He rushed me to the hospital. It was a true miracle I survived. Barter kept checking up on me. I was surprised to find he spoke English, though he didn't really look like any of the natives. He was a black man with short hair. Skinny, but strong. He wore clothes of many vibrant colors that never matched, and it seemed he carried everything he owned in a worn out blue backpack.

The first few months I was determined to get healthy again so I could track down Jan and murder her. Barter never tried to stop me, but he always said even if I managed to kill her it would do me no good. I guess he was sort of an expert on it. He spent over a year trying to find a mugger who had killed his father, though he never succeeded. By the time I was in good enough shape to leave, Barter's stories had gotten to me. I decided to just stay with him in his apartment and spend my days in a beautiful tropical paradise.

Barter introduced me to his friends. There was a dozen of them more or less, and they called themselves the Super Undead. I still don't understand the name, and I've been hanging out with them for three years. We all just took up odd jobs around the community and shared our money with each other. We spent the rest of our time being lazy. Barter and I couldn't afford the electricity bill, so we just bought books.

It was strange. I even began to forgive Jan over time. I looked back on my time with her, and it made me laugh. One night the Super Undead and I were heading to our newest obsession at the moment, an out-of-the-way bar at the end of town called The Boulders. I pointed to the two rocks out in front of the building and said they reminded me of Jan's chest. I immediately froze, and then felt relief pass over me as I realized the regret I was feeling was because I had just said something perverted in public and not because I was talking about her. I snapped back into reality and found my friends were smirking at my comment. I then went on to explain that though Jan did not know it, she had actually been given her nickname Avalanche after some guys noticed the anarchistic movement of her breast when she failed to wear a bra while running one day.

Though I again regretted having said such things, I realized at that moment that I was free from the pain Jan had caused me.

So, we spent the next month frequenting The Boulders almost nightly. We made friends with all the regulars, a few gruff, old men who spoke a strange mixture of every language I've ever heard and had no interest with the hip dance clubs at the center of town, as well as the bar's owner, Winslow Kistos, an American who came to South America many years ago to escape some troubles and never left. We spent our nights getting drunk and having arguments similar to the ones Barter and I had over books.

Knowing everyone at the bar as well as we did, it wasn't hard for anyone to spot a certain newcomer. He sat at the end of the bar away from the rest of us, and drank very slowly from his glass making the same drink last for over an hour. He said nothing aside from his original order to Winslow.

We all began to look over at him and quietly discuss why we thought he was there. The old men were adamant that we should leave him to his own business. The Super Undead were split on the matter. Finally, Cookie, a girl in the Super Undead of about 19 or 20 who wore her hair in pig tails and dressed almost exclusively in pink, walked up to the man. She tried to speak quietly so we couldn't hear her, though the distance wasn't that far, and we all managed to eavesdrop perfectly fine.

"Hi," she introduced herself.

"Hello," he said hoarsely.

"Me and my friends were wondering if you would care to join us."

"Why would I do that?" he responded.

"I don't know," Cookie replied timidly, "company?"

"Don't need any?"

"Um, we could buy you a drink," she suggested.

"Doing just fine with the one I have."

"Well," she paused, "Ooh! If you come join us I'll flash you my boobs!" she said excitedly.

"That isn't necessary."

"Yes it is!" shouted Jones, one of the old men, with a grin. Cookie blushed.

"Look, you're real nice lady," he said straightening himself up, "But I'm only here to see one of you. Now which one of you might happened to be a Mr. H. Aldahl?"

I looked up very quickly.

"That's me," I said loudly, "How do you know me?"

"Well, I don't," he answered, "but if I'm not mistaken you used to know my daughter, Janet Blanche."

The Super Undead broke into laughs and shouts at the mention of her name. Barter slapped me in the back.

"Yeah, I knew her," I said, trying to ignore them, "Why?"

"Oh, nothing big. I just thought you might be interested in helping me get her to her grave."

I was speechless. Everyone looked at me. Barter stepped up.

"No way, sir," he said angrily. "My man is over his revenge, so you can just leave here and never see him again."

Jan's father stood up and walked toward our group.

"I really hate it when someone speaks for another person," he said sternly to Barter, "so when your man retrieves his ability to use his tongue for himself, he can reach me if he's interested." He turned to me and handed me a small white business card. I took it, but still did not speak. He then dropped some bills on the bar counter, turned around , and left.

The next afternoon I sat on the couch of our tiny apartment with a still messy coffee table in front of me. I read the card over and over again.

MURPHY BLANCHE
FREELANCE
I'LL BE HERE ALL WEEK


The last line was written with an ink pen, and slightly overlapped a telephone number in smaller print.

Barter walked in on me.

"Why are you still looking at that piece of trash?" he asked. "Revenge isn't going to make anything better, you know that."

"I do know that," I replied, "but maybe I just want to see her again. Maybe I want to know what really happened."

"She shot you in the head and threw you into the ocean to die because you were a revolutionary and she was a soldier. There's nothing else to it."

"Let me think for myself, Bart. You don't always have to be such a controlling dick."

I waited until that night. Barter was working a late shift at a local burger joint and was going to meet up with the Super Undead at The Boulders when he got off. I decided I wouldn't be there. Instead, I was in the lobby of a fancy hotel with a name that was Spanish, or maybe Portuguese. Who knows. I founded it by Murphy's description of it, and waited for him to show up.

On Barter's bed I left a piece of paper with a brief message carefully written on it.

"I'm sorry, man. I thought I had healed like you, but I guess you're a lot stronger. I've still got this disease in my head, and this is my only cure.

-Honoratus"

*WHEN WE WERE CURSED*

I was pretty pissed when I found Honor's letter on my bed, and not just because he sounded like a middle schooler in it. I had spent years of my life with the guy, and we were just fine. Then out of nowhere someone offers him the chance to kill his ex-girlfriend, and he bails on me. So I followed the dick. For six months I followed him, never reaching him before he went somewhere new.

So after rapidly hopping from one exotic paradise to the next, the man finally slows down in Hell on Earth itself, Louisiana. Seriously, the place is just like this giant swamp full of mosquitoes and people who speak French and then eat really weird things. If I had actually ever read Paradise Lost or Dante's Inferno I'm sure they're what I would have been reminded of during my first week here.

Fish loved it though. He had never seen anywhere but the tiny village where he had spent the first 14 years of his life. I guess it was sort of like an amusement park to him.

Oh, yeah, you don't know him. Fish is a teenage boy I met somewhere in Central America, I think. Let's just say I've been to a lot of different places this year. You can't expect me to remember all of them. Fish isn't his actual name, of course. I just call him that because I have trouble pronouncing his real name. And spelling it. And remembering it.

Cute story, really. I was in the mentioned Central American country , and I was fighting people illegally for money and winning. Anyway, this kid challenges me, and he's all, "I'm gonna knock you out!" and I'm all like, "With what, small fry?" and he's like "With my fists!" except it sounded like he said feesh. Anyway, after that he did knock me out with his fists, and then he got himself a fistful of my dollars, but we've made up now. And he tags along with me from country to country. And I'm not sure any of his family knows where he is. Back to Honoratus.

Like I said, he was in Louisiana. Smallish town, lots of big houses. Rich people. Murphy was there too, and as one might expect, so was his daughter supposedly. Actually, the two knew exactly where she was, but they decided to hide out for a while waiting for the best time to kill her.

Fish wanted to go and confront Honor so we could convince him not to kill anyone. I came up with a better idea. I decided we should just tell Jan herself what was going on. We went with my plan.

So let's just cut to that evening. Fish and I are there sitting in her huge house on a tiny couch. Nice stuff everywhere. Jan was there. Short brown hair, brown eyes. She was wearing a baggy white T-shirt and blue jeans. Sort of looked out of place compared to the house, but then again I was wearing a bright orange tank top and Fish had never combed his hair since I met him, so I'm not really one to speak.

She looked at me. I looked at her. Fish looked at a mounted deer head on the wall. I had let him watch Evil Dead II with me earlier that week. I think he was afraid it was going to start moving like the one in the movie.

"I'm curious," Jan said.

"About what?" I asked.

"You say Mr. Aldahl is your friend. Yet you come here to tell me he's going to kill me, knowing very well I didn't have a problem with killing him in the past and probably won't have a problem with going out and trying to kill him again."

"Well, come on, no one has to die," I replied.

"Yeah, but everyone on Earth still seems to do it sooner or later."

That line should have scared me. I should have taken that chance to run away back while I still could. I didn't though.

"Okay," Jan said, "if you help me get your friend here, I promise I won't kill him."

So now we cut to me, a camera, and a fake hostage tape where I tell Honoratus and Murphy that Jan has kidnapped me. Probably another bad decision on my part.

Fish and I spent the next few days crashing at Jan's place. It was much nicer than most of the places we'd been staying. I ate and slept a lot. Fish crawled behind things and stuff.

Anyway, now we get to the important part. It's a dark night. Murphy and Honor's just got the video that morning. Around midnight they show up, of course planning to kill Jan and free me. However, we have it planned out where Jan will disarm and retain them (seeing as she is a well-trained soldier and expert in combat), we'll call the cops on them, we destroy the tape, I deny ever being kidnapped, and then Honor is safely kept in jail while Jan gets to be safe in her giant house.

So, Honor and Murphy walk in the front door. Both are wearing long coats. Honor in brown. Murphy in black. Jan's there to meet them. Fish and I are behind her, tied up very loosely on two wooden chairs.

"Hi, dad. Hi, ex-boyfriend."

"Give me back Barter."

"Stop trying to kill me."

Blah blah blah. Honor pulls a gun. Jan snatches it and points it at him. Honor's all like "It's not loaded, I just wanted you to be holding a useless weapon so I could chop your head off." He pulls out of his coat this huge antique battle axe with engravings on it and a wooden handle with a large, decorative metal spike on the end. He swings at her. She dodges. Then Murphy pulls out an axe of his own. Jan slides to the ground, trips him, and grabs his axe. Honor swings again. Jan blocks with the stolen axe. She then rushes Honor, knocks him to the ground, takes the spiked end of her axe and stabs in through his right shoulder into the floor pinning him there. I begin to freak out and squirm out of the rope.

Jan picks up the axe Honor had and points it at her father threateningly. She then looks down at Honoratus.

"I would love so much to just kill you right now, Toolbox. Sadly, I've made a promise, and I try to keep those." She glances back at me. "On the bright side though, I only promised that I wouldn't kill you myself, so I had the foresight to invite an old friend of mine to this party."

"Oh, good, I thought you were never going get around to announcing my arrival."

The voice has a southern accent, and comes from the dark room to my right. Out steps this ancient man. He is extremely skinny, and only has a vague hint of hair left around his head. He is also dressed in a black business suit with a red tie, and carries a black cane with a golden handle.

Jan smiles at him.

"You always are the symbol of absolute class, Billy."

He looks down at Honor with a grin and says, "You know, I was just going to shoot you, but since you brought up the idea, I've realized I never get a good chance to use this old thing."

He then hold up his cane and pulls on the handle revealing a long, slender blade.

By this point, I'm completely panicked, but I'm also out of the ropes, so without thinking I begin running at Billy. Jan of course notices, grabs my arm, and throws me down. This does however give Murphy enough time to jump at Jan and knock her axe away. In just a quick moment, I have enough time to look around, and I see it all in slow motion. Jan and Murphy, father and daughter, fighting each other to the death. Fish is still tied to a chair struggling with a knot. Then Honoratus is over there with the handle of an axe stuck through him and about to be beheaded by a creepy old man who looks like a skeleton and actually carries around one of the swords that you hide in a cane. Why is any of this happening? I don't even really know.

It hits me then. This all has to do with these people's burdens. I have no reason to be here. If they all want to kill each other let them. I can find new people to hang out with.

As quick as I can, I stand up and begin running toward Fish, all the time fearing someone is going to throw one of those battle axes like a tomahawk into my back. I untie Fish, and without much thinking we run to the front door that Honor and Murphy came in through. The front door that everyone is fighting in front of. My heart is pounding. We weave past Jan, we hop over Murphy, Fish gets ahead of me and is nearing the door. So am I, but then Billy reaches out and shoves me over. I fall to the ground.

"Where are you running to?" he shouts at me, and then with two swift movements of his blade he slices through my legs above my knees. Now that is something that hurts a lot. I looked down and my legs were no longer attached and blood was everywhere, and I just remember thinking, "This bastard didn't even cut them to the same lengths." The right stub was about three inches longer than the left.

Honor tore the axe out of his shoulder and ran towards Jan. He tackled her. I was getting woozy. I struggled to keep my eyes open. I could barely hear him as he said, "I was hoping to leave here alive, Jan, but all that really matters to me is that you die." He then pulled a small box out of his coat and blanketed himself over her. He pressed a button on the box. There was a loud boom, a splatter of blood, and the two bodies jolted. I passed out.
***


I woke up in the hospital late the next day. My stubs were sewed up. I still felt terrible. Fish was there waiting for me. He couldn't tell me much, except that Jan and Honoratus were both killed by the detonation of small explosives he had been wearing on his body. Murphy was alive too. He came to visit me a day later. He wanted to explain things.

He pulled up a chair next to my bed, and asked me how I was doing. I didn't reply. Not because I was cold-shouldering him, but because it was a stupid question.

"Look," he said, "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," I said.

"Billy's still alive. You, me, and that boy are the only three people who even know he was there that night."

"I'm not interested in revenge, if that's what you're getting at," I told him.

"It's not," he answer, "you couldn't get it even if you wanted to. Billy is William Kenpon."

I shrugged.

"I take it you don't know the name then," he continued, "Billy is quite the powerful man. He's known around these parts for owning 85% of all the major businesses, but trust me, he's far from being just local."

"What's your point?" I asked.

"Billy spent quite a few years in South Africa recently. He both funded and founded a certain group that's been making mischief for the U.S. government."

"You're telling me Billy created the Zero Branders?" I asked.

"It's just one of his many projects."

I thought this over.

"But the army was sent to Brazil to fight Zero Branders. Who's side was your daughter on?" I asked.

"Janet was on no one's side by Billy's. She became his property long ago. For a brief time there, I thought she'd get out of his mind traps, but I gave up hope a year and a half ago when they got married."

I cringed.

"I know," Murphy agreed, "the guy is almost 30-years-older than me. Jan didn't love him. She barely knew anything about him. I know that it never would have occurred to her that he practically puppet-mastered the whole war. All she saw when she looked at Billy was her master."

"So, I'm still confused. if Billy was controlling pieces of both the Zero Branders, and the U.S. military, why is any of the war happening?"

"The thing you have to understand about the Zero Branders, is that most of what they did never actually happened. They weren't formed to attack really, they were formed to create fear. When people get afraid, they start making ways to protect themselves. This is just my theory, but I think Billy is anticipating the military will create a new force of defense against his Zero Branders, and he wants to harness whatever it is once its created. I'm just glad my daughters not involved anymore."

"Honor and your daughter," I put my hand on his, "they're really the luckiest of all of us. Back at that house, I was thinking I didn't need to be involved. None of that had anything to do with me. It doesn't have anything to do with a lot of people, but someday this is going to reach all of them too. We need to do something."

Murphy stood up ready to leave.

"All you can do right now, kid, is rest."