STEADFAST Book Three: America's Last Days (The Steadfast Series 3) by Telbat D.I

Author:Telbat, D.I. [Telbat, D.I.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: In Season Publications
Published: 2017-05-24T04:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 4

The morning of his execution, Eric was fed a slim piece of salted beef and a mug of weak tea. Beef! So, they'd found the cattle he'd told them about, he thought somberly. He'd delivered them from starvation, so now they would deliver him to the fire.

On his knees, Eric prayed. He felt a gentle joy in his heart. The prospect of meeting God gave him a peace that transcended any fear of excruciating pain. The pain would last but a few minutes. Eternity would last—forever!

Even with the meat in his stomach, he hadn't been fed well for a week. He prayed he would remain strong enough to die with honor for God, and not in shame or defeat. His cell door suddenly opened and he stood up.

"The judge wants you to wear this." Hicks tossed Eric a red, white, and blue armband that the resistance fighters wore. "Put it on."

"I'm dying as a resistance fighter, so why not be clothed like one, huh?" Eric said, as he pulled the band up to his biceps.

"Keep your mouth shut about the resistance, or this'll go much worse for you." Newman looked at the floor. "That's what Judge Grayport said."

"So, Commander Morris is here?" Eric presented his wrists to be cuffed in front of him. Instead, Hicks turned him around and roughly cuffed his hands behind his back.

"He's here—with two squads of his best men." Newman took hold of Eric's left arm. "They thought they might be coming to burn five Mastover people at the stake, if we hadn't resolved the resistance problem. Nothing will interrupt that now."

"Good thing you're resolving it, huh?" Eric joked as they led him upstairs. "How disappointing it'll be for you all when the resistance reignites since you're not killing its actual leader."

"Shut up!" Hicks jabbed him in the ribs. "No talking now."

When they emerged into the sunshine, Eric squinted at the charred earth near the side of the courthouse where it had been cleared for executions. The hanging platform Eric had seen months earlier was gone now, and the platform wood was piled for feeding the fire. Around the courtyard, the gray town stood like something from a black and white movie. Its streets were choked by trash, and the tallest buildings seemed haunted by silence, tensed for more death.

A crowd was gathered—voluntarily or forced, Eric wasn't sure—with Commander Morris seated on a metal chair at the front. Eric was marched over to him, and Judge Grayport walked up with his private security guard of five local soldiers. Twenty of Commander Morris' troops wore the gray and black insignia of a lightning bolt on the shoulders of their uniforms, distinguishing them as the Lib-Org's elite forces—apart from the rag-tag and recently-starved militia of Mastover. About one hundred Mastover soldiers were present, and all eyes were on the visitors and Eric.

"This is the resistance leader." Judge Grayport presented Eric, and gestured at his armband. Eric noticed the judge averted his gaze often, like he didn't want to make eye contact with anyone for too long.

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