In Huck's Hands

Chapter 4: Not Your Savior

The atmosphere grew thick with tension as the thunder of motors heralded the rebels' arrival. Through the haze of smoke and dust, he appeared, the imposing rustic outline of Aygu, The Mad Butcher of Buriti. His scarred mouth was set in a cruel grin, relishing at having reduced the capital to smithereens. He clicked his tongue as the sound of feet and the cocking of firearms filled the air.

I had narrowly followed Aiko's athletic militant figure out the door before they had caught us off guard. There must either be snakes among my fellows' ranks or these guerilla fighters actually were a real threat and could prove such. I cupped my ashy hand to my eye as I was surrounded by royal guards. The large ally tank's barrel aimed dangerously a mere foot above my head.

Aiko moved swiftly in front of me, shielding my body with her own as she leveled her rifle at the warlord's bald head. Her entire body trembled with rage at the sight of her family's killer, her finger hovering over the trigger. I peered from over her shoulder to only see Aygu smiling to himself, he picked at his ear with the small of his middle finger before speaking."If it isn't would be Queen Aiko,"

Aygu rumbled in his gravelly voice. "I desired we would meet again. You've grown more stunning since our last encounter." His lewd gape raked over her as his 'men' fanned out, cutting off any escape, the whole street was now brimming with rebels and allies alike. I folded my arms silently soaking in the display of our powers at odds. I needed a way to turn them against this old man...but how?

"I've dreamt of this day," Aiko hissed through gritted teeth. Her brown eyes blazed with a fury I had never seen--even at my own antics. All soldiers but her were anxious, racing eyes and scowls marked everyone in attendance. I felt my dreadlocks blowing in the Buriti breeze. Chalky crimson dust integrated with silver dust stung my eyes as it clung to anything on its track.

Aygu simply chortled. "The orphan turned concubine still clinging to her delusions of vengeance. When will you realize your precious lineage were sufficient casualties?" He wiped his bald head with a small rag. His soldiers could be no older than mere boys. The head among them; was a 14-year-old boy with an eye scar like mine. We were not that dissimilar despite what old men and foreigners told us.

With a primal scream, Aiko crammed the trigger. Her shot thundered through the smoke-filled air. For a split second, her eyes blazed with a missed long-awaited vengeance as Aygu's scarred mouth seemed destined to explode in a shower of gore. Then his cruel grin emerged unfazed, the bullet clearly having gone purposefully wide.

Aygu knew as much as Aiko and I rued we would get nowhere with more Buriti bloodshed. The smoke from her rifle rose above the barrel of the tank looming above us. I hoped I was not seeing the premonition of its blast. I cleared my throat loudly before fanning red dust from my face.

"You have said enough Aygu...If I were you--and im glad I'm not; I would think very carefully about the way you address the Minister of Internal Affairs and head general of all Vascan armies." His eyes narrowed as the titles stabbed his chewed ears. Not even Buriti Hallow-cased bullets pierced this man...but a woman in power appeared to gut him for every stray bullet meant to kill him he had dodged...his tenure as rebel leader marred in the dead faces of the charred bodies around us.

Hiding amongst the rubble and souls mixing with the decade-long cascade of war toll. Aygu twisted his lips to speak. "You mean to--" I stepped forward, emotions warred within. Red-hot rage at this butcher who'd brought ruination. The bone-deep weariness of an endless cycle of retaliation. Sadness to see our vibrance and community decaying amidst the flames and rubble.

But piercing through rang the conviction - the refusal - that this man would determine our fates any longer. We had battered each other bloody year after year, what did it achieve but mountains of Buriti dead? Our people deserved more. The choice loomed - answer violence with violence once again here in this blood-soaked street, or somehow, impossibly, try another path.