Hello, everyone. So I just wanted to inform those of you that have read my story that I decided to do a rewrite of the first two chapters. Rather than having a bunch of POV squashed together in the same chapter, I decided to make each POV its own chapter. While this means that each chapter will probably be a tad shorter than usual, each will be more in depth, have better character development and result in longer, richer and more detailed story. Essentially, the first two chapters now constitute the first five of this story.

And for those of you that have not yet read my story and this the first time, then you what is above does not pertain to you, and I hope you enjoy!

Please let me know what you all think and I really hope you all enjoy the read!

-Taylor

Chapter 1: Heroes Left Behind

The warm sunlight did little to sway the cold of the day to go away. Though he was clad in a thick leather jacket, a gift from his father many years ago, Daniel could not help but shiver. But it was more than just the cold of the day that ate away at his bones and formed goosebumps all over his skin. Anxiety, fear, general nervous and a touch of adrenaline also lent to his current state.

He stood at the head of a crowd of hundreds. Like him, all were bundled up in vain attempt to stay warm on the cold October Friday. For them, unlike Daniel, they were possessed by a positive and unyielding force that kept them going and warm. Of course, also unlike Daniel, they were not in charge of the protest that had slowly swelled in numbers over the past two hours. If they were, then he was sure they would be in the same state as he.

Daniel had been involved in a growing number of protests over the recent years. His very first had been in his youth long ago, when fear of the New Plague sparked the citizens into action, demanding that their government act at least somewhat responsible as thousands were killed off in the early fifties. With his father on one side, his mother on the other, he remembered marching down the streets of Jacksonville hoping that their voices were more than just vain noises. They weren't. And over the years Jacksonville had seen its fair share of protests, and he had become more involved. Protests over food and fuel were common place. The people were hungry and needed warmth, especially in the winter. Anti-War protests also had become popular, especially recently when American forces were so decisively winning the war against the red menace that was the Chinese. Daniel and many others knew that peace had to be a priority. China was losing, but pushed into a corner then even a simpleton understood what would happen. Humans were animals, and animals pushed to the extreme always lashed out. But it seemed that the government were either ignorant of the threat, or wished for it. Which was worse for such powerful men and women that were in charge, Daniel did not know, but the consequence would be the same, at least for the masses.

Today, though, Daniel did not lead the group of hundreds because of war, food or fuel. War allowed men to get away with the cruel and unusual. In the Second World War, the citizenry of the republic had stood by as FDR demanded Americans of Japanese decent be locked in camps like a feared beasts. But Daniel, and those standing with him, would not follow the Americans of yesteryear that allowed their fellow citizens to be taken and locked away.

Like the Japanese-Americans over a century ago, today it was common routine to see Chinese-Americans rounded about by the busloads and shipped across the country. While it was cruel what had happened to the Japanese-Americans, they at least were treated somewhat decently in the confines of their guarded camps. Those taken in today's America, though, were not so lucky. Rumors spread like wildfire of the treatment of the modern camps. Experimentations and executions on a level that would make the Germans of the 1930s and 40s envious.

And it was the imprisonment and torture of his people that made Daniel take on this responsibility, one such that was sure to have consequence. He thought briefly back to the conversation he had with Sam two weeks prior when he suggested leading this demonstration.

"Your sure, son?" the old and gray woman had asked him as she smoked a cigarette in the lounge of a local bar.

"Someone has too, and no one has stepped up yet," responded Daniel as he nursed a whiskey.

"If it goes bad, hell, even if it's a peaceful as can be, they could come for you," she warned. "You, your wife and your daughter."

"I know, Sam. But if we fail to step up, then we are still guilty. We can't let them get away with this shit any more than they have."

"Alright, son. This one's yours. Don't fuck it up."

So far he had not fucked anything up yet, but he knew that fun was only about to start. Any fuckups would come then and there.

"We almost ready," said a man to Daniel's right. It took him a second to realize the man was Juan, head of the protest's security. The large man wore a long coat, which Daniel knew hid weapons and armor underneath in the event peace decided to flee them that afternoon.

"Does everything look good?" asked Daniel.

"As good as we think they can look," responded Juan. "But those army boys look nervous. We will have to make sure that none of the crowd gets out of hand."

"Yeah, we don't want any bloodshed."

"Don't worry, Daniel," comforted Juan. "The boss wouldn't have put you in charge if she though you couldn't handle it."

"Let's hopes Sam's not wrong then.

"At least no news vans showed up in case you are," joked Juan.

Daniel realized Juan was right. Usually there were at least some news coverage, but not today. They were probably under orders. The government did not want to give the people the wrong ideas about being loyal citizens.

"Yeah," said Daniel. "At least."

Juan put a comforting hand on Daniel's shoulder for a second, then stepped away back to his duties among the crowd and managing the other security personnel.

Finally, the moment came. At the head of the crowd a large crate was placed and a smaller one was situated next to it to provide a necessary step up. Someone, who in his moment of commitment Daniel could not recall, handed him a megaphone, and then Daniel made his way up and to the crate. He stood above the rest. A small sea of hundreds stood tightly together before him. They went through various chants and held their signs of protest above their heads proudly. Daniel couldn't help but smile.

A gust of wind cut into his eyes and he turned away from them, away from the crowd of protesters and towards the object of their protest, Fort Saturiwa. Situated along the St. Johns River, the fort has one been the city's naval air station. Then, in the 2060s, the base had been given to army to serve as the new headquarters for the United States Southern Military Command following the series of protests in Miami that left much of the city nothing but a smoldering pile of rubble.

It was here on this day that thousands of Americans civilians had been brought to be shipped out to various camps around the country, including the infamous Miami camps down south situated in the ruins. Even without binoculars, Daniel could see the hundreds of busses in the distance well inside of the fort where the prisoners had been loaded onto throughout the day. The sight did nothing but piss off Daniel, and the fear and anxiety began to melt away, though not completely. Part of him wished to take his crowed and march them through the chainlink fence that surrounded this section of the fort, but that would have been a fool's errand. The dozens of soldiers, some clad in power armor and armed with mini-guns, would make short work of them if they tried. But still, just that moment of taking things into their own hands left a longing on Daniel's mind.

Instead of his march, he turned back to the crowd and lifted the megaphone to his lips. "First, I would just like to thank you all for coming out here on this warm Florida day." A few in the crowd chuckled at the poor joke. "But in all seriousness, seriously, thank you all. We live in dangerous, tough times, but it gives me some faith in humanity to actually see people out here today for no other reason than to reject what our government is doing with our people."

Cheers erupted from the crowds as the mass waved their many signs. "What they are doing is fucking wrong," boomed Daniel as he gestured to the fort behind him. "And we are not going to let this stand. We aren't going to let these sons of bitches that are supposedly our leaders get away with this; that this ain't going to go down like this. We-"

A gunshot rang out from the crowd cutting Daniel off. His eyes widened with horror as he saw a man amongst the crowd holding a smoking pistol. Those protesting around him had crouched down at the sound of gunfire leaving the shooter standing tall among that section. Daniel stared at the man, and then the gun. Then he followed where the gun was pointing. Not to him, but behind him. Daniel turned around. One soldier was on the ground. Blood pooled around his still body as other soldiers came to his rescue above him.

As the seen unfolded protestors were running. They knew. So did Daniel. He jumped off of the crate, and as his feet touched the ground, the first returning gunshots echoed from the soldiers behind him. The protestors screamed as the gunshots intensified. Daniel ducked behind the crate, the only cover he had that could shield him from the gunfire. The others were not so lucky. As they ran, bullets ripped into their backs and knocked them down to the floor. Blood was everywhere, along with the screams. The worst screams, from the most dreaded of human misery, came from those left alive on the ground. They either could not move, tried to get away, or in some cases desperately tried to stuff their guts back into their stomachs. If the shock of it all was not holding Daniel so strongly, his stomach would have let go of all its contents.

"Goddamnit, Daniel," roared Juan as he slid in beside Daniel. Gone was the man's coat, replaced with heavy army around his body and a rifle in his hands. "What the fuck are you doing back here?"

"What the hell am I suppose to do?" asked Daniel as gunfire spread itself around them. "I don't exactly want to get mowed down!"

"Worse things can happen, Daniel," answered Juan. "Now let's get out of here!"

Juan yanked Daniel put his face, and the large man put Daniel in front of him, behind a shield of flesh and armor. Daniel felt Juan pushing on him, and without another choice, he ran. Juan kept close. Bullets made impact all around them. Daniel tried to speak out in protest, now wanting Juan to be hurt, but the man just told him to shut up and focus on his running every time he tried.

Along the way the bodies that littered the ground were either silent or screaming. The sights revolted Daniel. He couldn't stop and help, Juan kept forcing him to keep pace. But others were helping. Men and women with guns faced against the soldiers. Their cover fire allowed others to grab the wounded, at least the wounded they thought they could save.

At last, Daniel and Juan turned a corner with Daniel still in the front. Awaiting them was a black van, guarded by a few of the protest's security and already filled with some of the other protestors. The door was open. Juan forced Daniel up to it and pushed him inside.

"Get him the fuck out of here," shouted Juan. "They all saw him. They will be looking."

Daniel turned around to protest the order. He could help the other wounded. He could do something! But his own protest died when he laid his eyes upon Juan for the first time since the man forced him to run. The man, somehow still standing, was covered in blood. It was mostly his own. It was soaked into his clothes. Small cuts covered him. Daniel stared horrified, scared to see the man's back. But Juan still stood, though wavered in place, as the van door was slammed shut on Daniel's face. Daniel fell to the van's floor as the van sped away.

Daniel recovered, and made it to the back window. Looking through, he watched as an ever shrinking Juan fell to his knees as the other security personnel moved to check on him. The van turned a corner and Daniel saw no more of his Savior.