Their eyes lock, each one studying the other. Neither one intending to make the first move if they can avoid it. They know that they are an equal match, that this confrontation will come down to a single move. Or, rather, the failure of a single move. The first one to make a mistake will be the one to fall here today. So much rides on that inevitable failure. The rise or fall of an empire. The freedom or oppression of a people. Victory or defeat this day would decide the future for millions.
It's Blue who makes the first move, throwing a right hook aimed tor Red's temple. Red deflects it with his right arm and fires off a left straight that Blue just barely sidesteps, putting him in a position to fire off his own left handed uppercut. Red backs off and a space is created between the pair.
---
“It's not fair.”
Blue lowers his guard to to address his friend's declaration. “What's not fair.”
“This whole system. Our parents spend their lives working, spinning their wheels, and for what? They don't ever get anywhere, they don't ever have any more power or a life that's any better than they do now.”
Blue shrugs. “It's not like things are so bad, though. Right?”
Red simply waves that comment off. “I'm going to change things one day.”
“Good luck.”
---
Blue ducks Red's hook, shifting the movement into a sweep that Red jumps over. Red extends his right leg, adding his own strength to gravity in order to produce a heavy hell drop in the spot where Blue once stood. He looks up to see his opponent charging him. Red steps to the side and extends his foot, tripping him. Blue falls forward, but converts it into a roll at the last moment. And again the two find themselves separated.
---
“It's not fair,” he declares to the crowd of people huddled in the basement. “Our leaders sit at the top of the world benefiting from our efforts and giving us barely anything in return. I say we can no longer sit idly by and allow them to profit off of our blood sweat and tears.”
The crowd gives a shout of agreement in response. Blue stands in the back of the room, next to a rack covered by a tarp, watching as his friend whip this crowd into a rebellious frenzy. It's impressive, he thinks, the kind of respect that Red commands, the authority he wields, with only his words. His friend has grown into an admirable figure. It's also dangerous, the way these people hang on to his every word. The way they subsume their will into the will of the crowd.
“This is our chance to take it all for ourselves,” Red shouts. “And this is how we'll do it,” he points to the room's rear. Blue grabs the edge of the tarp and pulling it away to reveal the stack of firearms the two of them had managed to smuggle, liberate, or otherwise obtain. The cards were on the table now.
---
They circle each other now, slowly, watching for the first sign of aggressive movement. For the first evidence of defensive vulnerability. The circle grows, slowly, ever smaller. Drawing the two combatants nearer and nearer. Soon they will be in striking distance again, and the fight will continue.
They can feel their pulses now. Their blood is boiling. this has been a long time coming.
---
“It's not fair,” Red says, resting his automatic rifle on his shoulder casually. “It is not fair the way you wield the power you've been given. And, as such, my colleagues and I have decided the situation must be remedied.”
Blue lets loose a burst of gunfire into the hall as security that evaded the others come to their employers' aid. He is quickly joined by two more members of Red's resistance.
“Gentlemen, this is an uprising. Welcome to the bottom of the food chain.
---
They find themselves grappling. Each uselessly trying to over power the other. They continue to circle as they push against the hands of their opponent. In a flash both of their right hands release and dart for the neck.
Their eyes meet. Each has a hand free and a hand occupied. They now know how this will end.
---
“It's not fair,” Blue thinks to himself.
The ideas behind the movement were so good. So pure. No more people sitting at the top of the pyramid taking for themselves that which they did not earn. Leaving everyone below to fend for themselves.
They would change it, he promised. He kept this promise.
They would make it better. That, that was a lie.
He may have wanted to when it started it, but once Red saw that view from the top, that went out the window. Things were not getting better. They were getting so much worse. And he was not content simply standing on the throats of his own people. No one could fight for freedom if no one told them what freedom was. What once had been a nation of the subjugated had become, now, an empire of the subjugated.
The sad part is that Blue knew this was coming. As he stood by his friend's side helping him every step along the way he saw the signs, and did nothing to prevent the inevitable outcome. And now red sits in the position he coveted, unopposed and with more power than any before him.
He has to be stopped. It's unfortunate that Blue's the only one in any kind of position to do so.
---
Blue swings and another hit connects with Red's jaw. Before he can recover, another is fired off. And another. And another.
The fight is over. They both know this, despite Red's insistence on continuing. He made the first major mistake, allowed the first clean hit, and gave Blue all the momentum he needed.
Red makes one last ditch effort at an attack. It is not only blocked, but caught. Red's arm is wrenched behind his back, and his face is pressed into his desk.
“Surrender,” Blue orders.
“No.”
---
“So you've decided to start your own uprising? What's the matter? Couldn't continue living in my shadow,” Red inquires from his seat behind the desk that serves as the room's centerpiece.
Blue keeps the automatic trained on his friend.“I think it is more of a coup than an uprising.”
“So, how are we going to do this?”
“I can shoot you right now, or give you a fighting chance.”
“I'm sure you would prefer the latter.”
“I would.”
Red stands and walks around from behind his desk. He jerks off his tie and shrugs off his jacket, eyes never leaving Blue's.
Blue ejects the gun's magazine and empties its contents before throwing it and the gun itself to opposite ends of the room. He came prepared for this final confrontation, needing to shed nothing more.
Their eyes lock, each one studying the other. Neither one intending to make the first move if they can avoid it.
---
The guards pour into the room, surrounding the exhausted pair.
“Did you really think I'd leave this up to a fight between us? To, basically, a coin toss?” There's none of the friendship from before left in his voice. It is as cold as it is victorious.
Blue looks around the room at the dozen or so guns pointed at him. He doesn't release Red, in fact his grip seems to tighten.
“I didn't,” he admits, sadly. As if this act, to him, is the final and ultimate disappointment.
“Sir,” one of the guards asks.
“Release me,” Red demands smugly, “or I will have them fire.”
Blue's only response is to turn to the guard and nod. He nods back and two more guards turn to face the men next to them. They fire, killing them as Red and Blue watch on in stunned and knowing silences respectively.
“A coup doesn't work with one person, Red,” Blue says, an unsettling calm in his voice.
“That's... That's not fair!”
“It rarely is.”
Really like the structure of this one, with the final scene intercutting with how the characters got there. The recurring quote is a nice motif as well. The generic character names and the perfect balance between them suggest something like a chess game (though the first game I thought of was honestly Rock'em Sock'em Robots).
ReplyDeleteVery well put together. You've got a nice style going on here. The characters could use new names, though. I kept waiting for the "it's actually just a game of Risk that's come down to two players" punchline. Keep up the good work!
ReplyDelete