Crook Q Part 37

 He looked at me with his grossly bloody face and said, "Sister, we'll get them yet."
Nic coughed. Ephesus looked over and grinned, "And, I guess, if we've got you, too, you might as well join us."
"Well I'll take you. Or at least I'll take Philadelphia. With her trouble-making skills and unending passion for crazy schemes, we can't fail."
And I don't think I cared that I was in a police vehicle, headed to who knows where.

Nic sat back against his seat, alternatively looking through the glass that separated him from the sites of the city through which he was being transported, and down at the glass that had lodged in his chest. It wasn't painful, it must have just caught on his clothes or got him in the flesh somewhere. And bleeding was minimal. Not much of a wound at all.
Nic was not one to bemoan the missing glory of a lame wound. He could do well with just a shard of glass. He pulled it out, and after the searing pain of separating it from his skin, he didn't really care anymore. They had handcuffed him, hand and foot, and his seat belt was tightened and winched beyond the point of comfort. Basically he could control everything above his neck. That was enough for him, in most cases.
The car rolled on, deeper into a boundless Outside on which the sun never set. Towers rose around and giant statues proclaimed their dominance, but all Nic heard in their speeches was the theories of engineering that built every statue alike. He was being trucked through a sinister domain to say the least, but he was sure he could match it, if not in strength, in cunning.
And he wasn't half bad at being sinister, either.

And that, my friends, is the last of the regular installments of the pre-publication Red Rain sequel.
I have decided to end constant publication for a few key reasons. First, anything I publish now, especially lately, is heavily subject to revision. Already certain plot elements are inconsistent with the revised (or in-the-works) revised portions of this sequel. So I can't really write "the ending" because if I did I would have to choose an ending that fits this version not at all or one that has nothing to do with how the final version will end. To avoid confusion on both of our parts, dear reader, I call an end to the blog version of this novel (yes, I said it).
Second, and the reason you probably first guessed, I do want to publish this thing eventually. And having a full and complete version on a website free to the public is contrawise to good marketing strategy.
Third, I need to get back to those revisions, and the planning work with the one-and-only Aubrey Hansen. There is promoting to do, writing to do, revising to do, and lots of heated arguments with the real author of this stuff (not really). Actually, Aubrey has let me in on easy terms.
So now, dear friends, you must wait like normal readers for the final products. Do you want a few hints about what the changes might be?
You do?
How quaint.
Ok, fine.
1. Philli will get her Philliness back. We will give her back her nature that she had before, instead of the Philli that I created for the blog version when I realized that I couldn't take 30 minutes each Philli blog post just to get myself in the Philli mood by reading Red Rain.
2. The United will get some it's Unitedness back. Aubrey and I are working together to make sure the United doesn't change too drastically from the United ya'll knew back in RR1.
3. A spantabulous ending that Aubrey and I just love.
And if that's not enough for you, just take my word that the final product will be somewhere around 3.14 times as cool as this one was. So... why don't you comment and tell me what number this story would get if you multiplied it by that decimal number? And you can just multiply by 3, if you want, or 4 if you want to be generous, or just multiply 1 if you want to be redundant. Just tell me which operation you're doing!

Philli Part 38

The only different reaction I saw was Nic. His eyes acknowledged the event. Our car was destroyed and he was captured by the United. But somewhere in Nic's eyes I saw that same spirit that drove him to make Red Rain the first time. He whispered something I did not understand, but I heard in it the same voice that reminded me who was in control of the Mars base.
A wrecked car was but a slight hurdle in Nic's mind.
I lay against the side of the car, basically pinned under people and by the other wall. Then I heard a loud his and a bang. Giant steel scissors cut through the side of the car, inching their way through so that they could take us out. Nic's eyes traced their every move with deliberate disinterest. I looked over and saw Augustine grab the gun he had got from Nic. He had lost in the run and tumble in the car.
Was he really going to shoot whatever United officer was the first to show his face?
Nic was strewn between me and Stanyard, and we both watched as he shakily drew the gun up in front of his face, ready to sight it in on whoever was visible first. But gradually his hand crept around to the side of his face, and he held the gun muzzle against his head for a brief moment. Augustine clicked the safety off.
Nic instantly punched across the face and barked, "You won't get to heaven that easy! That's not how we do things!"
Stanyard lay there, paling. He barely got his words out, "We're sticked now. We've lost. They've got us. I can't let them get my information. Hundreds of us will die."
Nic snapped on him, getting his phrases out between banging hisses as the car wall was slowly cut away. Cutting armored cars in two wasn't very easy, I gathered. "Well, for all of you, to die is gain, so you may as well expedite your friends on. And for me, having you dead is the last thing I need, so do a wretched sinner a   favor and don't spread your brains all over the car."
Augustine didn't look convinced. His left hand crept over for the gun. I couldn't take it. "Oh for the love of God, Stanyard, don't murder yourself! What would Jesus do?"
Stanyard relaxed, still shaking all over his body. The last clank came and the United tore away our last mask of protection. Would they execute us all on the spot?
Cameras. They were filming the grand capture of the Unaccepted rebels. And I was one of them.
How had this started? How did I get involved with all this? I was a good girl. I did was right. I was respectful. Why did I have to get involved with this?
He stood up. The reason my life was being twisted apart before my very eyes. Nic stood up and saluted the cameras. As large thugs moved for him he blurted out, "It's time for another round, United! The stakes grow higher every time!" They struck him with long poles with wires on the end, and he fell on the ground convulsing.
Stanyard put his hands above his head and hid his face. He was grabbed and dragged away without a word as other guards bounded into the carcass of the wrecked vehicle. One grabbed Ephesus and pulled him out. He was thrown onto a stretcher, his face wrapped around with a towel. Cea stood and they grabbed her, practically throwing her out of the car.
Then they came for me. A tall guard jumped into the car, but before he even stepped toward me I hopped to my feet. I offered my hand like a proper lady, and I guess in instinct he must have offered his arm. I used his arm for a boost and stepped lightly out of the wreckage.
The city had paused around us. Cameras and microphones were everywhere, and teems of people watched the spectacle as more and more police cars rushed to the scene. I stepped out of the car before anyone could grab me, and some audacious reporter stuck a microphone in my face.
"Why would you Unaccepted do this? Why would you leave your safe and kind internment camps for this life of even greater crime?"
I looked pleasantly into his cameraman's lens. Be respectful.
"Because we love each other too much to be separated. And we love the world too much to let it fall under the yoke of the United."
Then they jerked me away and threw me into a car. And I didn't care what they could do to me. As long as I found my family again.
I looked over, and next to me was a man with a towel smashed onto his face. I really didn't think that that was helping Ephesus very much. Then I heard a dry voice from the far side of the back seat. "We should probably take that towel off his face before it congeals. Then it'll hurt to take off. They just didn't want the cameras on that."
I pulled it off slowly, the way I knew Ephesus liked his bandages coming off. Then he reached up and jerked it off. He looked at me with his grossly bloody face and said, "Sister, we'll get them yet."
Nic coughed. Ephesus looked over and grinned, "And, I guess, if we've got you, too, you might as well join us."
"Well I'll take you. Or at least I'll take Philadelphia. With her trouble-making skills and unending passion for crazy schemes, we can't fail."
And I don't think I cared that I was in a police vehicle, headed to who knows where.

Philli Part 37

We flew forward, the awkward pile of us petrified individuals, plus Augustine, lurching around awkwardly. Where were we go...
I heard a crash and lurched toward the front of the car. The rattling and pinging of the bullets on the outside of the car increased. Bright light burst in. I could finally see the pile more closely. Daddy's head was right next to me on one side, and Nic was right on the other. Cea was on top of all of us, with Stanyard crouching in the back, trying not to touch the walls. It must have been because of the dents that kept happening.
Then I realized what was going on. We had just driven through a garage door!
The car swerved to the right, tires screeching like one of those bad movies.
Bullets began cracking the windows in tiny spider webs. Evidently this vehicle was not meant to take sustained fire.
I got up and watched out the windshield. Grey buildings and bricks and street signs flew by in long whitish blurs. I don't think Ephesus even knew where we going. We were just going, and fast.
An explosion rattled the car from the left side. I looked back and saw a building collapsing behind us. What was this?
I must admit I screamed, "Why are they doing this?"
Augustine rolled over and sat up, "Because they are the United. This is a show for their people."
"They want everyone to see them blowing up their own buildings? Destroying their own property?"
"No, Philli. What everyone will see is us doing this. We did this. Just like we burned Rome two and a half thousand years ago. That's what they will say. And they just barely managed to stop us. And they will say, 'Look at what the Unaccepted do! We must get rid of them faster. We would try to be merciful, but see what they do? They must all assimilate or be removed."
Assimilated or removed. Assimilated or removed. Lately they seemed to prefer the second option.
A harsh left turn sent the van hurtling through an alley only a few feet wider than the machine. The only pursuit now was a few men on giant motorcycles. They wore reflective helmets and shiny suits. One of them drove with his legs while carrying a long tube. If demons ever materialized into the modern era, I think they would don similar attire.
A huge flash of light came in from the front. Glass blew in from the front, and Ephesus screamed. We all got some of it, and the noise grew overwhelming. Then a hard brake followed by a right turn. We were on the main street.
I watched as my brother, blood pouring down his face, wiped the life fluids away from his face with his right hand while driving with his left. Some glass had lodged in my arm and my hand. Daddy looked like his clothes had blocked all of it. Cea was picking shards out of her clothes, but it seemed she had been spared most of it by reason of her long sleeves. 
Nic had got one large shard. It stuck in his chest, and he just stared at it blankly. He shrugged and looked to the back, then sighed.
Then the wall jumped at me. I flew across the van and hit the opposite side, and so did Nic. I caught one glimpse of his face. His eyes were rolled toward his brows. He muttered one word, "Unaccepted."
The van slowed, tilted as it turned, and then rolled over. Down we all toppled onto the flank of the van.
This was not how it went in the movies, I was sure, even though I never saw much for movies with this kind of content. How am I living a lifestyle I never was allowed to watch as a child?
It took me about ten seconds longer than Nic to realize we were totally undone. Our glorious escape ended in a dented and destroyed care with my brother bleeding from multiple facial cuts. Daddy lay there helpless, and Cea was resigned to it. 
The only different reaction I saw was Nic. His eyes acknowledged the event. Our car was destroyed and he was captured by the United. But somewhere in Nic's eyes I saw that same spirit that drove him to make Red Rain the first time. He whispered something I did not understand, but I heard in it the same voice that reminded me who was in control of the Mars base.
A wrecked car was but a slight hurdle in Nic's mind.