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Casey Jones · (08-24-2013)

Darkness swept through the practically empty field, a cold chill tingling the spines of the two men as they jogged along at speed, carrying tools with them as they did. The boots they wore trampled loudly on the crops, crushing them completely under each large stride they took.

“Where is it?” the first man said, a trace of panic in his voice as he stamped on the ground around him.

“It’s around here somewhere, keep going” came the response. The second man’s voice was gravelly and bitter. He spoke slowly, enunciating each word despite the relative haste at which he needed to speak. The two men continued jogging along, the fear of being discovered almost parallel with the fear of not reaching the intended location in time.

A howl of a wild dog came from the distance, causing both men to jump slightly. They looked around suspiciously, before they realised the state of paranoia they were in and carried on, jogging slightly faster. They both knew that, to be spotted by police now would mean placing not only them but their family in danger, and neither could risk that. Eventually they stopped running, and the second man, slightly smaller than his counterpart, pulled a map out of his pocket. He glanced at it for a moment, before looking up at the bearded face of the first.

“This is it” he said bluntly, dropping the bag to the floor with a thud. The other man followed suit, opening the bag and pulling out a heavy looking shovel. “This needs to be quick River”

River nodded in response, ramming his shovel with difficulty into the solid, sun dried ground. This was not a case of George and Lennie; River was not a stupid man. He chose his words carefully, causing many to believe that he was ‘dumb’ or ignorant. He was neither. As River dug, the other man pulled a mobile phone out of the back pocket of his sweat drenched jeans and pushed a button. He raised it to his ear and listened carefully.

“We’re here” he said in his slow voice. River stopped digging momentarily and looked up expectantly. He was met with only a shake of the head of his counterpart, who motioned for him to keep digging. “You need to get out of there”

River watched on as the other man hung up his phone and placed it back into his pocket. He didn’t say a word as he grabbed a shovel and joined River in frantically digging a hole. Any other men would’ve simply given up, but for these two it was not an option. The two kept digging until they reached a hard surface. The metal of their shovels created a loud noise as it hit the surface, and the two looked around before River leaned down into the hole. “Pass me the drill Dax” he said softly, holding his hand out expectantly. As soon as the drill was placed into his outstretched hand, he reached down and used it to extract several large screws from the surface. He casually threw them to the side, before he lifted the surface with a grunt and passed it to Dax, who placed it gently on the ground. River looked down into the hole that he had created and hoisted himself out of the opening, standing over it and looking in, a satisfactory look on his face. He turned to his partner, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“What do we do now?” asked Dex as River sunk to the ground beside him.

“Wait” River responded bluntly, watching carefully.

A mere five minutes passed before a faint noise hit the ears of the two men. Immediately they stood, walking towards the hole. They looked down suspiciously, and saw a man climbing up the solid metal ladder that extended to the bottom of the pit. The metal of the ladder clunked against the man’s dress shoes as he climbed, and as he reached the top, both Dax and River reached down and lifted him out. He stumbled slightly as he reached the top, his forehead shiny with sweat but his clothing immaculate; his collar positioned perfectly on the sweater vest that he wore, the moonlight shining off of the leather of his black dress shoes. Dax and River immediately rush towards him as he stumbles, but he gently pushes them back, a calm smile on his face.

“Well that was unexpected” Casey Jones said. His voice was calm, but for reasons unbeknownst to Dax and River it seemed to magnify in their sub-conscious; it commanded respect.

“Are you okay? Are you injured? Do you need to go to a hospital?” Dax and River’s questions shot at Jones like bullets, but again he laughed them off.

“I am perfectly fine,” he stated calmly. “But it is my sombre duty to inform you that we’ve suffered heavy casualties. The police have arrested a large number of your brothers and sisters”

A deathly silence fell between the three men. The police raid on Jones’ compound deep below the realms of a charity shop in a busy centre was the reason for the sudden disappearance. It was only due to Jones’ cunning and foresight that he had managed to escape unharmed. The silence between Jones and his children lasted minutes, and the low rumbling of an engine was getting closer and closer.

“Where is Kathi?” River said, his soft voice finally breaking the silence before he could stop himself. He didn’t want to seem weak in front of Casey, but his worry for the woman he considers to be his sister won out.

“Ah, Michael, do not worry about Kathi” beamed Jones as headlights came into view. “It’s funny you should ask…”

A battered but large white van pulled over next to the men, screeching to a sudden halt. Before either Dax or River could say a word, the door swung open and a woman clad in a modified orange jumpsuit exited the vehicle and stood in front of them. Her lipstick was clearly smeared, and she nodded curtly at Dax and River before smiling lustfully at Jones. He warmly smiled back at her, seemingly oblivious to her obvious ulterior motive.

“Did the plan run smoothly?” Jones asked, his face suddenly serious.

“Yes, the cat is in the bag, so to speak” replied Kathi. Her voice had a definite seductive purr to it, something that came naturally to her after using it to her benefit on so many occasions.

“Wonderful” said Jones, his face suddenly lightening up again. He turned to his two associates and motioned to the van. “Would you like to step inside? All will be explained to you”

Immediately the two men opened to the door to the back of the van, asking no questions, and sat down in the darkness, the door shutting behind them. Jones walked to the front of the van and sat in the passenger seat, Kathi smiling at him as she turned the key in the ignition. The car started and she began to drive, keeping her right hand on the wheel as she placed her left on Jones’ upper thigh. Jones lifted her hand and placed it back on the steering wheel, keeping the smile planted firmly on his face.

---

After what seemed like hours, the van pulled up outside a grimy looking motel in what was apparently the middle of nowhere. The sign outside called it “Lucky Joe’s”, and it boasted that there were ‘full vacancies’. That couldn’t be good for business. Jones and Kathi exited the car and walked in. An older man with rosy red cheeks and a nose that could rival Rudolph’s glanced up as they walked through the door. The musky smell of the lobby hit Jones and Kathi immediately; whilst Jones was subtle about his disgust, Kathi could barely contain herself from gagging. Jones walked up to the bar and beamed at the owner, presumably Joe.

“Good evening” Jones said exuberantly. “I’d like to make you an offer”

“Rooms are fixed. $15 a night. Don’t even think about trying any bullshit” Joe responded immediately. Jones’ smile dropped slightly and he winced at the use of swearing by the owner.

“That wasn’t the offer I had in mind” Jones said. “I’d like to buy this hotel”

Joe coughed slightly in surprise and took a double take.

“You’re kidding right?”

“Most definitely not”

“Get the fuck out of here, I ain’t selling” Joe shouted angrily, catching Jones off guard.

“Sir if you will just be willing to listen to the offer…” Jones began.

“I ain’t listening to jackshit! Fuck off!”

Jones studied the man’s face for a while, before sighing and turning on his heel. “I’m sorry you feel this way. I won’t take up anymore of your time”

Jones took Kathi’s hand and led her out of the motel, walking back towards the van. He stared at the van for a moment, collecting himself, before he knocked his hand three times across the back doors. Immediately the doors swung open, and Dax and River exited the vehicle, followed by twelve men clad entirely in orange jumpsuits. The men walked towards the motel and entered, as Jones reached into the glove compartment of the car and pulled out a newspaper. It was as Jones flipped through the paper that the screams of Joe filled the air. As the man’s screams reached their peak, Jones saw something that caught his eye. It was a poster, and something that Jones found very interesting indeed, but it only comprised of two words;

WAR GAMES

Doctor’s Journal

Is it true what they say? That war never changes? I, for one, hope with all my heart that they are wrong. I, for one, dream of a day where war is eradicated; it’s needless, unwarranted, and violent. I, for one, know that will never be the case. War is a necessary evil in a world such as ours. It is a way in which people can prove dominance over others. It is a way to determine who the superior human really is. War is, in essence, a game, and that is exactly what has arrived in my life. War Games to me brings up a twisted, bizarre image of a man wielding a gun playing a game of chess, but even that is over-simplifying things. In a game, the purpose is to win by demonstrating superior skill and talent. Is that not also the case in war? And that is what will occur in next week’s Warfare. A game of war. I go into battle accompanied by people who barely know who I am, by George, I don’t even know who they are! Can I trust them? Of course not! They will all be heading into War Games with an ulterior motive. They all want to score the ‘decision’ so to speak. In the case of Mister Havok, that would be to fuel his ‘revolution’, something that he utterly failed in doing on Madness. In the case of Angelus, that would be to reclaim the XWF for the ‘good guys’. Are there really any ever good guys? That still remains to be seen, but it is apparently his mission nonetheless. In the case of Mister Eli James, it would be to bring the crown to the Congregation. All of these different motives from all of these different people begs the question; what is in it for me? Why did I want to be a part of War Games? As to the answer to that question, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I was possessed by a desire, and it is still yet to be determined where that desire leads me. I’m not fighting for the ‘good guys’. I’m not fighting for the ‘fans’. I’m not fighting for a ‘revolution’. I’m not fighting to prove myself. I’m not one for incessant boasting, but the one thing I will say is this; at War Games, you will see something special. It’s not a boast as much as it is a fact. You will be surprised, you will be shocked, and, in the case of Angelus’ team, you will be defeated.

Goodbye for now…

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