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The Uprising (200 BCC)
“Justice! Justice!” The crowd chanted, gathered in an undulating mass in front of a makeshift stage.
Marcus Stone struggled in the clutches of his captors. Two massive Secret Service Agents—one on either side—dragged him along the ground toward the wooden platform. As if on cue, both sets of giant meathooks released their grips, sending Marcus face first to the gravel below. Dirt packed up his nose, mixing with snot and blood from the generous beating they had doled out to him on the way into town.
“Justice! Justice!” The roar almost drowned out the Executioner’s speech at the podium. The leader, nearly as massive as his henchmen, raised a hand to silence the mass of people gathered for the show. Instantly they complied, all but the faint whimper of a baby in the distance. Marcus chuckled to himself at the thought of ‘baby’s first execution’.
Executioner Cho, standing high above the yard on stage with a banner that read “Justice For Our People!” adjusted the microphone, sending a high-pitched squeal through the curved concert speakers behind him. “Citizens of Reidville, I promised to deliver the usurper and here he lies before you. Marcus Stone has been tried under the highest court of law in our land and found guilty of the worst offense imaginable. Treason!”
The crowd roared to life. Marcus lifted himself to a sitting position, titanium shackles eating into his already raw wrists and ankles as he steadied himself. The guard on his left, who’d gone out of his way to make the last week a living hell, gigged him with the ZapStick.
Marcus’s limbs contorted in full rigor, throwing his manacled hands above his head. With his abdomen exposed, the guard on the right welcomed the opportunity to kick him square in the chest. Marcus toppled over, still seizing.
“Stop resisting!” The left guard shuffled his feet to get them out from under Marcus’s rigid drooling body.
Executioner Cho continued. “Marcus Stone, you plotted against your own country, your fellow Continentals. You took unauthorized and undocumented liaisons to hostile territories. You sold this great nation’s secrets to combatant nations. And you incited your followers to disobey the law by destroying their identification records!”
“I only did that last one.” Marcus choked on the dust in his throat, his vocal chords still paralyzed.
“What was that?” Cho yelled into his microphone.
“I said,” Marcus rose to his feet defiantly. “I only did that last part. And I’d do it again.” He turned in a full circle, shackled hands closed in front of him. “I love my country and would never do anything to harm my brethren. But you have to see what this world is coming to. This is the last year of our century. Is this the legacy we want to leave for our children?”
“Booo!” Unanimously rang out.
“All I did was ask for my right to privacy, and that of every one of you.” He turned again pointing at the crowd.
“You are a traitor Mr. Stone!” Executioner Cho could barely contain himself, face red with hatred.
Marcus faced his accusers, straightening his back. “I fight for what I believe in. If I don’t, who will? Do none of you see that we’re in a dangerous time, all of us. Constant surveillance. Improper searches of personal property. Children forced to scan their IDs before being allowed to eat?”
He took a small step toward the crowd and they retreated in fear. “I’m not the monster they painted me to be. Just because they didn’t know where I was, doesn’t mean I was doing something wrong. I was just living my life.”
“Enough!” Cho slammed a fist on the podium sending another squeal through the loudspeakers. “I will not allow you to poison the minds of these great law-abiding Citizens. We have rules in this country and you broke them. You are guilty, Stone, and you will be punished accordingly.”
Marcus limped toward the stage, pulling the heavy chain behind him. “I accept my sentence. I’d gladly roll up my sleeve for you so I don’t have to see what world your kind is trying to create for our new century. I gotta say though,” he said, climbing the steps to the platform. “This is a bit cliche don’t you think?” he waved a hand at the crowd and the stage. “Public injections are so 21st century.”
As Marcus reached the top step, Executioner Cho sauntered across the stage, taking the microphone with him and grinning the whole time. “There will be no needle for you Stone.”
The chain yanked its prisoner off the platform. Marcus landed hard on his side, knocking the air from his lungs. He sputtered and wheezed as the two Secret Service Agents reeled him back to the center of the yard. The crowd closed in around him.
Behind Cho the banner fell away revealing a wall of white screens. On each was a different person from Marcus’s life. His sister Marjorie could be seen in the top right corner, a red streak across her face in the shape of a hand. All around her were other members of his family and close friends. His mother, in her living room surrounded by Agents, occupied the largest center screen on the wall. At each corner of the stage multiple cameras dropped from the ceiling, all trained on Marcus on the ground.
The crowd gasped collectively and fell silent. “For you, Marcus Stone, I think a death sentence more to your liking is in order. You want to live off the grid like ancient times, you shall die without the modern conveniences of our times.”
Marcus’s mother cried out on the large screen and an Agent slapped her across the face.
“But before we get to the main event... we need a little reminder for those of you watching at home.” Cho spun and smiled for the cameras. “Everyone you see before you,” gesturing to the screens, “has aided and abetted Mr. Stone’s crimes. They harbored a fugitive. They helped Mr. Stone evade capture by concealing his identity, destroying government issued documents. They all participated in his rallies against your government. It’s time that justice be served!”
“Justice!... Justice!” The crowd sprung back to life.
On the ground, a fresh boot print on his cheek, Marcus watched in horror as his mother wept, larger than life above the stage. His younger sister MaryAnn, on the screen right above her, spat at Cho through the camera in her face.
Unfazed, Executioner Cho continued. “Evelyn Stone will you please show Agent Maldanado your identification?”
The woman wept, shaking her head.
“You can’t, can you?”
Another slow shake ‘no’, her entire body quaking. The Agent who had slapped her now held her pinned to the back of the couch.
“In fact,” Cho plied the crowd, “none of the people you see before you today can show identification. These aren’t even all of his conspirators.”
Another gasp from the audience.
“No, these are only the few we could locate. There’s no telling where the rest of these dangerous criminals are right now,” pausing for effect, “or what they’re plotting!”
Marcus met his mother’s gaze and wept with her, mouthing the words ‘I’m sorry.’ The old woman composed herself enough to shine a loving smile on her son, kiss two fingers, and touch them to the camera lens.
“Coward!” Marcus raged at Cho, straining at the end of his chain.
Cho walked down, then stopped and crossed the yard. He stopped just short of Marcus’s reach and raised a hand to silence the crowd.
“Evelyn Stone, you are hereby found guilty of Treason.” A shot rang out and the white screen flashed orange, then red. Through the spray on the lens her body slumped over.
More shots, one by one, from each screen as Marcus watched helpless in a ball on the white sand. After all had flashed orange then smeared red they went black.
“Stand up and be counted.” Cho taunted, motioning for the guards to lift Marcus.
Slowly he rose to his full height, wiped his blood and mud caked nose and glared at Executioner Cho.
“Mr. Stone the blood of those you loved is on your hands. And now it’s time for you to suffer the same fate.”
Marcus closed his eyes and braced himself for the bullet. A sharp pain tore at his shoulder. He stumbled but didn’t fall. Then another in the center of his back. Again, he stumbled but didn’t fall. Marcus opened his eyes in time to see a rock hurtling directly at his face.
“Since you want to live like a savage Mr. Stone, it’s only fitting that you die like one.” Cho picked up a baseball sized gray rock and smashed the side of Marcus’s head. A loud crack reverberated through him and warm blood oozed over his temple. Still he refused to fall.
Suddenly dozens of stones pelted him from all angles. He raised a protective arm to his face but the guards snatched the chain. His arms fell to his waist as a sharp pain exploded in his mouth. He spat chunks of tongue and teeth on Cho’s polished shoe.
A swift kick from the other shoe buckled his knee backward, sending him to the ground at last. All around him the cries for ‘Justice!’ sprang up again. People rushed forward, their newfound courage flying from their hands and tearing into his flesh. Others picked up already bloodied rocks at Marcus’s feet and bashed him in the head with them. Eyes swollen shut, Marcus could only claw at the ground vainly in search of refuge. What he found was the butt of a rifle shattering all the bones in his hand.
“Mr. Stone!” Cho’s voice froze the crowd, giving Marcus a momentary respite from the onslaught of rocks. “May your story serve as a cautionary tale to those who dare follow you. And may your death bring our great nation the peace it deserves as we turn the pages of history to a new century, a new world!”
Executioner Cho stood over Marcus’s head and hefted a boulder as high as his wingspan would allow. He brought the rock down hard and swift. Marcus twitched briefly as the sand turned red under the boulder. With the excitement over the townspeople dropped their stones, filed back into their cars, and drove back to their lives.