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 4
by AoifeM

(In Ian's PoV)

“I’m Scott Ryan,” I kept telling myself as I stared directly into the mirror.

I really didn’t understand any of it. Is she so insecure about coming to terms about being a girl that she refuses to even reveal herself to people? They were all Wyld, or at least sympathetic enough to know that changing genders is a common occurrence.

And that’s concerning to me. If you want to be a leader then take charge of the situation! The whole thing just confused me.

Still my goal, the whole reason I was even here to begin with, it to find some way to bring peace to the region. This is an odd way to go about it, though.

Marcus came into the room. Today was a big day. We were going over a two part plan and my
assistance would be vital.

“I see your well,” Marcus began, “To be honest, I’m surprised you’re willing to do this.”

“I’m surprised myself,” I admitted. One thing began to segue into another and my mind digressed back to Scott Ryan. “So, how long have you known her?”

"Oh, Scott?" He chuckled a little bit, then began to retell his story. “I suppose it was 10 years ago…”

Columbus, Ohio, December 19, 2013

There were two men, soldiers of the Confederate Army. They were driving a dump truck. Their destination was a local kiln; their payload was a bunch a corpses, all tied up in burlap sacks.

These were Wyld corpses, killed in another round of Wyld extermination. Those who were useless to them were destroyed, their bodies burned. They called it purification under holy fire. Back then many people still thought that becoming Wyld was like transmitting a disease, even though every day people were proven that a falsehood. People just want to hear what they want to believe.

Marcus ran in front of the truck, forcing it to a complete stop. The driver got out of the truck and began yelling. “What’s the big idea!?”

“I see that you’re carrying dead bodies in that truck,” Marcus stated.

“So? What’s your point?” The driver began to feel agitated.

Quickly the priest opened up his wallet and began to count the dollars he put into his hand. “Seven thousand, eight thousand, nine thousand, ten-ten thousand dollars for you and your friend each if you redirect it over to my church down the street,” he offered.

A grin reached the driver's face. He obviously was bought. “Whatever. Don’t matter to me where these bodies go.” He changed direction and drove towards the church. A good 45 minutes later the bodies were unloaded and the bribed soldiers were on their way.

Marcus stared at the unloaded sacks. Each contained a person whose life was cut brutally short. “Disgusting,” he replied, shaking his head, “even Wyld at the very least deserve a proper burial.”

He began to unwrap the bags gingerly so as to preserve the bodies as they fell onto the cobbled floor below. Many of the screamed and cries of agony were still etched onto the faces on the slain Wyld. Each one a reminder of the indifference the world had. Marcus was numb to it though. He’s seen this all too often.

Unwrapping the latest bag, a young girl lied before him, her shirt ripped to shreds, and bloodied from head to toe. She looked like she took a shotgun blast to her torso. “So young,” Marcus said, feeling a tinge of pain in his eyes. He stared at the young girl. She probably could have lived a normal life if she wanted, albeit her powers hidden.

And like some scary movie, her eyes suddenly opened, and she gasped for air.

“Holy mother of Jesus!” Marcus cried, he immediately walked over to her aid. “Are you okay, child?”

After her few breaths she stuttered out her first few words. “Where-Where am I?”

He wrapped his cloak around the lady, “You’re safe now.”

The entire trauma the girl experience exploded from her tough exterior. She wanted to try and fight it, but she couldn’t. She laid her face upon Marcus’s shoulder, and began to bawl, uncontrollably.

“It’s ok now,” He said as he put his hand on the back of her head, holding and comforting the lady.

December 20th, 2013

“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” Marcus admitted, handing her some clothes. These are all that’s left of the donation bin. There hasn’t been many supporters since I was excommunicated.”

Still wearing Marcus’s cloak, she took what he had available. She was at least happy the clothes weren’t overly feminine.

“You still haven’t told me your name,” Marcus said as he sat down beside her.

She paused, still unsure of him. She was unsure of everybody right now.

“It’s okay,” Marcus assured her. “You needn’t tell me if you don’t want.”

“…Scott,” the young girl blurted out, “Ryan. My name is Scott Ryan.”

“That’s quite an odd name for a young lady…”

Scott began to tense up; the moments that led to her in a body bag weighing heavy on her mind. I’m Wyld, he’ll hurt me, like everybody else, she felt.

“It’s okay.” He put his hand over hers, trying to calm her. “It is what it is. You couldn’t help it. That’s the thing about being Wyld.”

“W-why are you helping me?” Scott asked, struggling to inch out of her shell.

“I suppose I’m just trying to continue the dream,” He stated. “You know the one. Where all men are created equal?”

She stared down at her bosom, “I guess I don’t apply on all counts.”

“Nonsense. You look like a human. You act like a human. Replace man with woman and you still deserve to live with those rights. Nothing should be taken away.”

“Tell that to the rest of the world,” Scott quipped.

“You can’t start the journey unless you take the first step.” Marcus got up and began to walk away. Turning around he stated, “You must be hungry. I’m going to head outside and find some breakfast. Give you some free time to be alone and get dressed.”

She nodded in approval, and he left her to her business.

Present Day

I walked with Marcus into the abandoned automotive plant. There I could see Scott’s minions at work. Old beat up cars were being reinforced in layers upon layers of sheet metal. Grond was busy bending metal bars, lining the cars’ windows with them.

“Seems like you’re doing a good job there,” Marcus complimented the 15 foot tall giant.

“Grond happy!” He cried. He began to jump up and down, causing a minor tremor as rubble fell from the ceiling. “Grond work hard!”

“Uh…good,” Marcus replied, “…Keep up the good work.”

Trish walked over to see the commotion. “And you guys complain about us girls getting ready. And Marcus, did you really have to get Grond in a frenzy like that?”

“Gotta keep him feeling happy,” He said. Lord I don’t want to know what happens when he’s angry.

“Come on, Sis is waiting.” Trish said, leading us to her. I guess calling her “Sis” keeps others from knowing Scott’s true identity. They didn’t seem related. Although, I guess they are rather close.

Inside an old conference room Scott was waiting, busy writing notes on her little note pad, most like finishing some little details before going into the mission plan.

“Well, I’m glad we’re all here,” Scott began. “Trish, if you don’t mind.”

“No problem,” She walked over to an old, busted down computer. With her hand, she touched the tower, and just like that, that old pile of junk turned on. One upping herself, she connected to the world wide web, which was shut down in this region, since the United States still held monopoly over it. Connecting to the GPS website, she zoomed into to the site of our latest battle.

“This is Toledo,” Scott began, “one time a major city the bordered the former state of Michigan, today it serves as a heavily fortified ground and naval base for the Confederacy.”

Zooming out towards Lake Erie, Scott continued, “The Confederates control of the region has caused complications between the bordering nations, in particular the Lake States. A Merchant power, it’s major cash crop is corn. Besides being a food source, it is the major ingredient of the renewable resource called ethanol.”

This was fairly elementary, but she continued. “Because of its location the Lake States have been bottle necked by the Countries of Texas to the south and east, Alberta to the Northwest, and Mormonia to the West. These countries are major producers of Oil, and seeing Ethanol as a threat, continues to blockade the export of this fuel.”

Pausing a second, she went on, “the United States, plus many other foreign countries would be interested in the expansion of Ethanol based products. However, only the Lake States are stable enough to further develop it. And since flying is a dangerous prospect when the bordering countries are threatening you, sea travel is the way to go. And for that reason, Toledo holds significant importance.”

“You want to take Toledo?” I said in a shocked manner. “You know we can’t do this! Your rebellion has what- two, three hundred people at most?”

“You’re right,” she admitted, “We can’t. At least not alone. That’s why we need you, Mr. 'Scott Ryan'.” She smirked a little bit after saying that. “You are going to Detroit and meet with the Doge.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry, Trish will go with you. She’s a very capable bodyguard.”

“We’ve had this set up for awhile,” Trish interjected, “They agreed, their only condition was they would only negotiate leader to leader. We are to meet a small group of Laker troops outside of Toledo. They will take us to the Doge. We need you to negotiate the terms of agreement.”

“What are these terms?” I asked.

“That Toledo belongs to us,” Scott answered, “We will allow safe passage through town, the garrison of their troops and allow trade back and forth from Lake Erie. We want to be treated as an autonomous government, kinda like how Scotland and Wales were back when the UK was still the UK.”

“And what will you guys do in the meantime?” I asked.

In an almost cinematic like way, she held up her machine gun, slapped a banana clip in, and cocked it.

“We’re gonna do what we’re best at,” She claimed, “We’re gonna distract them.”

“You know, that what you’re demanding isn’t going to be an easy sell. They could just eliminate you after you eliminate the Confederates.”

“Well, you’re the negotiator,” Scott said. “One of the best around, I heard. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

Great. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“Anyway,” Scott replied, “You’re dismissed.”

I got up from my seat and walked out as Trish put a hand on my shoulder. “Scott wanted me to get you to do one other thing.”

Huh? I wondered, as she began to drag me out back to the garage. Put in front of all the workers, I suddenly felt a bit of stage fright. Trish picked up a rather giant metal wrench, and began to beat wildly on an empty oil drum. The resonance quickly brought everyone to attention.

“Listen up everyone!” she cried. “Your leader, Scott Ryan, has recovered from his injuries from his meetings in Columbus. He wishes to speak to you.”

Immediately I was the center of attention, not knowing what it was I was supposed to say. I heard Trish whispering in my ear, “Try to encourage them.”

Simple enough. Yet, somehow I felt like I was about to send them into a suicide run. Do I really want to encourage something that has but a slim chance to succeed? I’m a negotiator, not a miracle worker! And what chips do I have to bargain with?

Focusing my thoughts back to the men and women in front of me, I put my best foot forward.

“Men…I’m sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t been around, watching you sweat, bleed, and die for me- no, for the cause. I know how difficult it has been. It could be just so easy to run away from it all. But just because it’s easy doesn’t mean it’s right. That’s why we’re here. We don’t want to live the rest of our lives, running from house to house, hiding what we are just so we can go on living as normal as we can. We deserve to live life the way we are! As Wyld!”

The cheers of the soldiers deafened the area, but seeing as I wasn’t done, they quieted down.

“You know, they say that God is infallible, but tell me, if he was so infallible, why did he make us? I’ve dwelled on that thought, quite a bit actually. I think I’ve come up with an answer. We all are imperfect beings! And by being imperfect beings God made the perfect creatures. Creatures who feel compassion, sympathy, and ultimately understand that we cannot live life all alone! By standing here today, as brothers and sisters in arms, either Human or Wyld, you have made a statement. You made the statement that we do not fight for greed, or vengeance, or justice, but rather we fight for love, love for the common person, no matter what we are. So tonight, let us battle for each other, so that tomorrow we can all celebrate together!”