The Last Revolution by R.T. Carpenter

we’re living through,” the Polemarch responded.
    “We won’t let you down, sir.”
    “I know you won’t.” With that he turned and boarded the flight. The stairs disappeared into the side and the jet engines roared to life.
    Alden stepped back and shielded his eyes from the billowing sand. He took cover behind one of the vehicles as he watched the plane lift off into the evening sky. It banked to the right and then disappeared out of sight as the refraction system kicked on.
    Alden jumped into one of the off-road vehicles, and sent sand and mud flying as he floored it up one of the paths. It had been poorly maintained and parts of the road had been washed out. It was all he could do to remain seated as he bounced up the mountain. He finally burst through the last bit of low-hanging foliage and into a small open area.
    The communications hub was a small square building with a large tower in back. Alden stepped out of the vehicle; in the distance a thin dark funnel was forming amongst the clouds. They swirled around each other in a deadly spiral. The wind billowed, bringing the salty smell of the ocean with it. Trees swayed back and forth beyond the outpost. The lightest drops of rain landed on his face.
    This is not where I want to be. What the heck are those communication operators doing up here? With this kind of storm coming in, they should be reporting into the general regularly. He couldn’t discern any signs of life inside the building. The windows were completely dark. Normally there would be radio activity, laughter, or a guard on duty. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.
    Alden reached into the back of the vehicle and found a hard plastic case. Inside a handgun sat nestled in protective padding. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and pulled it out as he jammed a clip into place. He pulled the slide back, loading a bullet into the chamber. Alden bent his left hand slightly and held the weapon in front of him. The cold steel felt like a glove. After all these years it was a natural extension of his body. He didn’t waver or flinch, but eased forward.
    Pushing the door open, he moved inside. Blood was splattered across the back walls. One of the operators lay face down on the floor at his feet. Several dark spots pooled across his back. The other operator hadn’t even been able to make it out of her chair. She was slumped back against the seat, arms dangling at the side. Blood ran down her fingers and pooled on the floor centimeters below.
    All communications and weather relay equipment had been destroyed. Some circuits popped with sparks and others were smoldering and fizzling. Alden dropped and checked for a pulse…nothing. They were under attack; he had to warn the general! Looking down at his wrist deck socket he remembered giving it to Father McKinley. He had to get down there to warn them.
    Alden sprinted out of the building. He covered the few steps to the vehicle in a heartbeat, and leapt into the driver seat. Suddenly, a loud explosion rocked the silent Island. Alden stood up and looked down towards the school. None of the buildings were visible but smoke was already rising from below.
    He dropped back into the seat and gunned the accelerator. As he rounded the first corner the vehicle nearly flew over the end of the mountain, careening down the trail on the other side. The jungle was a green blur as he flew through the foliage, a ledge appeared on his side and the path turned a sharp corner and dipped off to the right.
    Cranking the steering wheel over as fast as he could, gravel and dust flew off into oblivion as he nearly toppled off the edge. The adrenaline, speed, and rapid reactions reminded him of being inside the cockpit of his fighter jet. He loved the freedom of limitless air.
    Brrrp. Brrrp. The familiar sounds of automatic gunfire echoed through the valley. The pitches sounded at near equal decibels, which meant return shots, a firefight. Alden was getting close. Who would be