In the former state of Ohio many factions fight to claim the land as their own. For one rebellious Wyld, she too battles internally in order to maintain some semblance of her previous life while struggling to adapt to what she had become. Can a negotiator from the Northwest do the impossible and peacefully resolve the conflicts on the battlefield and within this young Wyld's heart?

The Heart of It All
A Wyld Universe Story
Part 9
By AoifeM

It didn’t take too long to spot the smoke clouds in the distance. The battle was already in progress, and the way it was being fought was too reckless even for my rebellion. However, for someone as stubborn and adamant like Mohammed, well, I wouldn’t put it pass him.

The Four Windmills was an unofficial landmark of Ohio. It was quite the site as you traveled out from the old Bowling Green Campus- The campus I would have attended if I hadn’t had the unplanned sex change. Then again, it wouldn’t be a year later when the campus would shut down entirely; the Confederacy gained control of the state one year later.

And with its control all the power from these windmills were redirected into the city, which was needed to create a new fortified base to defend from Lake State incursions. While back in the day it proved a necessity, over the next ten years new plants and power supplies made the windmills irrelevant. Still they are a part of the city’s power grid. Even a minor fluctuation could sound off the alarms.

Of course there are better ways to go about getting the job done besides charging headfirst into the heat of battle. The Windmills are guarded by a small base of about 60 soldiers. A highly trained military force might be able to take them, but for the ragtag group that I employed a Pyrrhic victory was all that awaited them.

I couldn’t change anything now. We had to eliminate the troops quickly and destroy those windmills before reinforcements arrive.

And once through I’m gonna rip that jackass Mohammed a new one, so help me God.

And by my side was Mohammed’s little daughter, Fatima. Seeing her in action, she was a rather formidable fighter, even if her father thinks less of her. However I still felt guilty having her with me. She was still young; a newborn Wyld, if you would. To be so young and already tasting the bitter taste of war pained me. I wish I could just find a place to hide her as I join the fray, but there was no time to spare. I had one advantage that my soldiers didn't- It takes a lot more than bullets to kill me.

…Time for my biggest strength to become my biggest curse. Reaching down my holster, I pulled out my 9mm. Reaching for a clip I loaded it and immediately handed it to Fatima.

With her eyes widened, she cried, “What do you want me to do with this!?”

With my eyes on the road I put a hand on her shoulder and replied. “I’m gonna go out there and lure them out. I want you to cover me.”

“What?” she screamed, obviously stunned by what I was suggesting. “I’ve never handled a gun in my life! What if I hit you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her matter of factly. “I’ll be fine. Now, get down!”
Nearly at the front gate I slammed my foot on the brakes and power slid my humvee 90 degrees, providing Fatima the cover she needed.

"Stay behind the vehicle," I implored. "Do not come near me, no matter what the circumstances."

With the dust clouds impeding the enemies’ sight, I grabbed a hold of my Sub Machine Gun and vaulted out the car door, guns blazing. If this was an MMORPG, I would be the tank, and it was time to get agro.

I began by immediately targeting the sentry towers; if anything would cause me the biggest trouble it would be them. With a quick glance I aimed my gun and began to fire, killing the guard in a pre-emptive strike as I sprayed the tower with rounds of bullets. With a swift shift to my right, I shot the guard from the other tower; the bullets flying like mad, they didn’t see it coming.

Even though the gun was rather inaccurate, it did its job. And it looked like it got the troops attention. The guards were swarming out from the gate. With my gun reloaded I began to shoot them as they appeared. Obviously this wasn’t going to last forever, but that was the point. I was out in the open; nothing short of painting a giant bullseye on my body could make me a bigger target.

…And how I was a glutton for punishment.

I unloaded another round as I began to take shots in my abdomen. I struggled as I loaded another magazine, only further hampered as I took a shot in the shoulder.

Kneeling in agony and only able to hold on by adrenaline at this point, I resumed firing. Everything was in slow motion. It was like an old school war movie. It’s a shame this is real life.

I was out of ammo, and I was out of gas. A quick shot in my head and I was out. My last thought was, please Fatima don’t go running out to assist me.

Death is a funny feeling. It’s a lot like sleeping really. People talk about out of body experiences or visiting old loved ones or whatnot, but I haven’t had any of those. Then again, maybe I haven’t been dead long enough to find out. Time just seems to stop. Hell, it might’ve felt like two hoursin my mind only to find when I come to it’s only been a few minutes.

It took nothing more than a poke from an enemy soldier’s shotgun butt to stir me back to consciousness. I could feel the presence of the confederate soldiers surrounding me.

...Fools.

As they began to walk back to base, not even paying attention to my humvee, most likely because of the battle on the opposite end of the field. The bullets fell out of my open wounds as the injuries began to seal themselves up. Time to surprise these idiots a second time.

I discreetly loaded my gun as I rose from the blood stained ground. With a sly tone I called out to the soldiers. “Hey, boys.”

They turned around as I began to fire at the once again. They were hopeless, like sitting ducks as I put a few soldiers out of their misery. Signaling Fatima, she rose from behind our vehicle and pelted a couple more. With just the two of us we successfully took out one third of their men out.

Fatigued beyond belief I fell to the ground- rapid regeneration can do that to you. With everything in the clear Fatima ran up to me and wrapped herself over my shoulder for support.

“Are you okay?” She asked. “Did I shoot you?”

A bullet- most like from her gun, dislodged from my forearm as the wound healed shut. “Eh heh,” I laughed weakly, “But a flesh wound.”

“You have an amazing gift,” she claimed, “I just wished you would’ve said something about that earlier. Seeing you shot like that nearly traumatized me!”

I apologized. “…Sorry.”

With her support I made my way inside the base. My distraction proved beneficial; by splitting up their forces my rebellion made quick work of the rest, suffering few casualties. Marcus and Faried were there, standing by.
Staggering, barely able to stay on my feet, Marcus recognized me and quickly alerted the troops. “Look!” he cried.

“Fatima!” Faried also exclaimed as he began running to my direction.

Now surrounded by friendly faces I let go of Fatima, allowing her to embrace her brother.

“What are you doing here?” A dismayed Faried asked his sister.

“She needed my help to escape,” she explained.

“She did a good job,” I told him. “She’s a strong woman.”

Turning to her, he squeezed her tightly in his embrace. Even though I could tell how protective he was of his sister, he also was proud of her. Sometimes I wish I knew someone like that who was just as proud of me.

Interrupting my train of thought, Marcus came over and started to apologize to me. “Sorry. I knew that Mohammed was a misogynist but I didn’t think he could go as far as that. I should have waited on you.”

“It’s okay, Marcus,” I consoled him. “I should’ve been more careful.”

Letting go of his sister, he turned to me and explained. “Yes, my father’s power of escort. He can place barriers over persons of the opposite sex, giving them protection as long as no one enters the barrier. Of course, that can be as much a hindrance as it is a benefit.”

“Yeah…” I cynically replied. “I’ve noticed.”

Mohammed and his group of Muslim militants marched out from behind the corner. Witnessing my escape, along with his daughter in tow, he shouted. “How dare you leave my sanctum without my consent! And to bring my daughter…”

I wanted to give him a piece of my mind, but Fatima had beaten me to the punch. “How dare you father for restraining a major part of their army without cause!”

“Without cause?” He mimicked. “She is a woman! She has no business being in the field of battle!”

“And you have no right holding her to the edicts of our religion!” She interjected. “If those truly are the edicts. As I have read, I thought our Prophet held women in high regard, not purely pets, privy to a man’s command!”

Mohammed was speechless. This must’ve been the first time she ever talked back to him. And in my mind I was cheering her on. At this point I was her number one fan.

“Do you not understand what we are fighting for?” She continued. “We’re fighting for the right to live, as Muslim and Nasnas! We are so discriminated by these Confederate soldiers that they treat us like cattle, diseased and destined to be shot. What makes their hatred of us any different than your hatred of us?

“I…I don’t hate you,” Mohammed said profusely.

“You may not,” she stated. “But your actions say otherwise. It is obvious you treat Faried and Sadiq with much more respect than I.”

“It’s not that…” He didn’t have time to finish

Fatima was on a roll; she interrupted her father and resumed her verbal assault. “This woman saved your life. She had killed many of our foes, allowing our victory, without the blood of our warriors. She has shown me true strength, strength in which I now use against you. I want to fight for our freedom. But not just freedom for our kind, or our religion, but freedom for my gender as well. If we are to live in harmony, then we must be equal in all facets. I will not hide in your shadow any longer, father. I will fight, and together we will build a brighter future.”

The whole area was silent. It was a rather awkward situation, having seen a fight that normally should be restricted indoors in private.

Faried walked forward, and declared resoundingly, “I’m with my sister. She is my other half, and she deserves to be my equal.”

The Muslim squad protecting Mohammed slowly walked over and joined him. It was obvious he was defeated, and had no choice but to capitulate. If he wanted freedom, it wouldn’t be under his terms.

“I’m sorry I have to interrupt this moment,” Marcus chimed in, “but we need to finish what we started. Reinforcements are going to be on their way in no time.”

Even though this wasn’t the most well thought out plan, the distraction was a success. With all this bloodshed, I didn’t even think we had to destroy the windmills at this point. However, I’m a completionist, I never leave a job half done. Besides, even if it wouldn’t drain a whole lot of power, you never know how much it’ll impact everything in the future.

“Call Grond,” I commanded. “Take a small team over to cover him. Take out the windmills.” At this point I was rather woozy. I needed to lie down.

“Alrighty,” Marcus agreed as he went about his way, carrying out my orders. All that remained were Fatima and Faried, who were worried about my condition.

“We need to take her someplace safe and let her rest,” Fatima said.

Faried didn’t hesitate. Using his arms he picked me up and carried me to safety. I was like a bride being carried off by her groom, his arms cradling me against his chest as he walked towards the one of their stolen army trucks.

I hate being a featherweight…

Off in the distance you could hear the destruction as the windmills began to fall similar to a tree falling after being chopped. I wanted to yell “Timber!” but I didn’t have the strength. It wouldn’t be long until the confederates will be checking in.

Mohammed, along with the other troops, was waiting. I still had enough in the tank to get in my two cents. Motioning Faried to let me down, I walked up to Mohammed.

With my face up to his ear, I sternly whispered, “You ever do that to me again, I’ll rip off your testicles and use them as a talisman.”

With my mind finally cleared I hopped into the back seat of my car, and drifted to sleep. Act one was a success. Next comes the grand finale. I just hope everything is going well from Ian’s end.

It’s up to him now.