CHAPTER 3
I awoke again, this time not as jumpy, but also to not as welcoming faces. Fi had her fist balled up ready to strike me again. I slowly sat up, with a headache. I noticed on the floor some soil. Apparently someone nailed me with a vase. I sat up, leaned back with my hands up. "Look sorry, I've had a bad few weeks. I've witnessed friends and family get slaughtered around me a lot this month and really don't care to see it again. So I'm reluctant to let you help for that reason."
"Listen young man. These people here are good at that stuff. Listen to them. They can help you; quit trying to be Mr. Hard ass and listen." She let's out a sigh of disgust as she turns still blazing a cigarette.
"Listen, by the way what should we call you?" Michael asked, speaking very slow and stern. This at first aggravated me but all things considered I let it go.
"Call me Ike or Isaiah." I responded somewhat defeated. "Can I have another cigarette? I'll talk just can we relax, maybe have a drink?" I was deflated; really just wanted to get it over with. My spirit was broke, really wasn't in the mood to argue any more, ironically these aren't the ones trying to kill me.
"Sure thing, here Ike," Sam handed me a cigarette and lit it. He handed me a beer, which wasn't that good but my mouth was dry. "Listen up. While you've been out, Barry told us what he knows and we looked up your old man. Now we have a good idea, if your lying or not."
"Listen, don't believe all you hear ok. My dad wasn't a malicious person, fanatic maybe but ultimately he believed in what he believed. Something America needs to understand sometimes."
"Listen we all know the trash that can be put on your name. Michael here has first hand knowledge of it." Fi interrupts; she leans across the chair in front of me. She was mildly tasty but you could tell she was all Mike's.
"Ok, here's my side, the truth as it be. My dad was a fanatic of LDS, yeah he was a Mormon had many wives, that whole deal. But he believed America was in a downward spiral you know eliminating God We Trust all that stuff. So he wanted to start a revolt and declared the government his enemy. For years while I was growing up that's all we heard at church. I didn't go to school I was taught at home. I trained with martial arts, learned how to speak German and Russian. Dad wanted me to be his leader, his general. He was aging, wanted me to take the helm. I could have cared less. Yes I was taught all the rhetoric but I had a natural curiosity to learn. So I read newspapers, watched TV and learned this and that and developed my own ideology. Trust me pops didn't know about this or that." I showed my smokes and explained about me sneaking around learning things from outside his views. So he attacked some ships off the coast hoping to blame the Latin community and start a civil war. All it did was put the entire church as targets. They killed all the family knew except dad. Not sure if he's alive or not. I think he's dead, and they want me dead. I'm basically the last bit of the faith" I said while finishing my smoke. Analyzing their body language, they didn't quite trust in what I said. I could feel the doubt and thought perhaps maybe I'm the bad guy. "Look, you don't believe me, that's cool. Don't want to help; all right. But right now the government has hired mercs to hunt me down and kill me. The government has washed hands clean of this. They charged me with petty crimes. All I did was stand in what I believe in." I could tell they were still puzzled. I didn't care really. If they were willing to risk their necks, so be it.