“And what exactly have you been waiting for?” Charlie said, wondering whether he was pushing things too quickly, the tip of the blade still within striking distance of his throat. The bomb lay just ten feet away. All he needed to do was open the flap on the bag and press his finger to the touchscreen.
Ten seconds later and it’d all be over.
A tiny flicker in time is all it would take.
“I’ve waited for this moment, Mr. Jackson. This point in time when I slay the rebellion and make amends for the collapse of one empire and start another.”
Augustus turned his face to regard something on the display wall, exposing his side profile. Charlie’s mind itched with recognition. There was something familiar about him. Someone he had seen or read about… “Just who are you?” Charlie asked as Augustus looked back at him with a smile.
“If I told you, you would think me a mad man.”
“I already do.”
Augustus inclined his head and brought the sword back to his side, unable to keep the weighty weapon in place. “I am Flavius Julius Valens Augustus, eastern Roman Emperor, Last True Roman.”
Charlie let it sink in for a moment as he scrambled away, putting his back against the wall and bringing his knees up to his chest. Augustus, or Valens, stepped forward, blocking off his routes. Looking around the exacting detail of the place, the sword, and that recognizable face, Charlie wondered if the croatoans had perhaps cloned him or brainwashed him into thinking this, but for what reason? What purpose would that serve?
But beneath all that was the history. Charlie had studied the Roman Empire and knew full well who Emperor Valens was: the brother of his co-emperor Valentinian—the pair who signaled the collapse of the empire. His body was never recovered at the battle of Adrianople. Many scholars assumed he had died in battle after removing his imperial robe and running headlong into combat, while others suggested he was burned by the Barbarians at the behest of their leader Fritigern.
Charlie had his own theory.
“I don’t understand,” Charlie said. “How is that even possible?”
“They were always here, watching us, waiting,” Augustus said. “I’m sure you read about what happened in Adrianople.”
“It was a crushing loss for the Romans,” Charlie said. “Humiliating in fact. Valens was rumored to have left the field of battle, unable to face the catastrophic consequences of losing to the Goths. Others said Valens was a traitor, a coward.”
The smile on Augustus’s face twitched at the edges and his hand gripped the hilt of the sword tighter. He leaned down until his face was inches from Charlie’s. “I survived, Mr. Jackson. Something you know a great deal about. Doesn’t matter how you do it, you survive, breathe another day.”
“So tell me then, how did you stand the test of time? Was it cryogenics? Cloning?”
“Neither. You remember the pods that rose up from within the Earth? I’m sure you realize now how ancient they were. Put two and two together, Mr. Jackson, it can’t be that difficult to understand. Now, before I run you through, tell me, why come here now? Look out there, you see it, don’t you? The ship that will change the world, remove the human disease from its surface, it’s too late for you now. Your time has come to an end.”
Augustus brought the sword back to his throat, pushing the tip in until it broke the skin, pressing against his windpipe, cutting off his air. “I came for one reason only,” Charlie said with a whisper as he squeezed the words out.
He reached up and grabbed the sword, but instead of pushing it away like Augustus was expecting, Charlie pulled it in, driving the sword further into his neck, but at the same moment, unbalancing the old emperor.
Charlie capitalized by grabbing his toga and yanking him toward him while simultaneously striking out with his legs, catching Augustus in the calves. The emperor toppled forward as Charlie slid to the side.
Augustus hit the wall with a heavy thud. His mask fell off and clattered to the floor. Charlie held his breath as he pulled the sword free, dropping it to the floor. On hands and knees crawled frantically like a cockroach to the backpack.
He reached out and grabbed one of the cut handles, pulling it close to him. Undoing the flap, he reached inside and pulled out the bomb. He spun it over, exposing the touchscreen. He brought his hand down and pressed his finger to the glass screen.
It beeped once for confirmation.
Charlie rolled onto his back as Augustus rose to his feet.
“What have you done?” Augustus said, looking down at Charlie not understanding what he was smiling about. The emperor’s face was gnarled and twisted, and Charlie realized the truth to him being burned.
A part of Charlie took great pleasure in knowing that he’d destroyed an emperor.
“They all crumble,” Charlie wheezed, coughing out blood between each word.
“Crumble? What?”
“Empires. They all eventually run out of time.”
Charlie coughed once and passed out, the last image he had was of Augustus reaching for his neck with his hands. But like before, he was too late.
The time was now.
Chapter 38
SITTING on the steps to Gregor’s office, Denver held Maria’s hand. Together they watched the skies. A tense, quiet had descended since the last of the croatoans were put down. The only noise came from the groaning and shuffling of the now-free humans, led by the now conscious Alex, into one of their shelters. She’d only took a glancing blow from a croatoan rifle, Vlad wasn’t so lucky.
Denver blinked, waited and watched the mother ship’s pink circles, like alien eyes stare down at the Earth. They remained bright, still working. He pictured Charlie stuffed inside the container, the bomb tightly held as he waited for his time.
“What if he was caught before he had chance?” he said.
Maria squeezed his hand and leaned in. “He’ll make it, I’m sure. I might have been only outside of the harvester for a few days, but one thing I’ve learned is that if your dad wants to do something, there’s no one who could stop him.”
Denver glanced in Gregor’s direction.
The old gangster, Charlie’s nemesis, stood with Layla by the alien hover-bikes. They seemed eager to leave, but Denver didn’t know where they expected to go. Nothing was settled yet. The people on the farm still needed to be cared for.
“Thinking of skipping out on us?” Denver said, raising his voice so they could hear him. He kept the alien rifle close by his side, one hand on the stock, ready to lift it into place within a fraction of a second.
Gregor tutted and looked away, not even trying to hide the disdain on his face.
Layla, however, stepped away and approached him. Her eyes were glossy and red. Dirt stained her otherwise unblemished face. Wiping a rogue hair from her forehead she stood over him, casting a shadow.
Unlike Gregor, she wore no expression of disdain, but rather sympathy, pity even. “I’m sorry for everything,” she said, regarding them both. “I’m sorry about your dad, Charlie, and you, Maria, I’m sorry that you’re the only one left from the harvester crew. I don’t know how much they taught you about grief and death during your education, but I just wanted you to know that I understand what it feels like. I lost everything and everyone I knew during the invasion.”
Maria brought her hands to face as she sobbed, the pent-up emotion over the last few days finally coming out. “I can’t believe they’re gone,” she said between ragged breaths. “We’ve only just got free, and now Ethan and Ben are gone, leaving me behind. Why me?”
“It has to be someone,” Denver said. “We need the strong to survive, and as far as I could tell in all this, you were the strongest of that group. I’m sorry your friends and colleagues didn’t make it, but we’ve all had to make sacrifices. It’s how the world is now.”