When he finally awoke again, he simply lay, with his eyes clamped tight. Voices washed over him, and he was quite content to just lie on this… sofa thing, thank-you-very-much.
"How about you're the one about to die Battlefront?" a voice proposed.
"Eck, no, sounds like I'm about to die," a familiar voice declines. "But what about you're the one about to die!"
"But that sounds like I'm the one about to die!" the first voice complained.
Mike ticked his eyes open a tad.
"Hey, hey, I got it," another voice said. Mike blearily identified him as the guy who'd came up him last night at the top of the stairs. He blurrily saw the figure poise dramatically. "The Flashback Battlefront!"
Those around him gave him dark looks. "I wish this was only a flashback," someone whispered.
"What about the young-hearts Battlefront!" another boy suggested. He was small, with a face dominated by nervous, shy eyes.
"Come on Luke, Sounds like something from the Hardy Boys," someone else dismissed. Mike recognized the original speaker, an intense looking individual with a long nose and penetrating eyes. "What about Blood-n-guts-n-glory Battlefront?"
"Wow, very creative Emmanuel," the familiar voice sighed.
Winifred leaned against the table at the front of the room, holding her chin thoughtfully. The junk of the desk, paper weights, old papers, and dusty photographs, plus the collection of diplomas decorating the walls of the large office, gave the impression that the room was intended to be used for an important teacher. The principal's office, Mike realized.
But now, there was no sign of any one over twenty. A ram-shamble collection of youths were all that inhabited the room, joking with each other, pushing each other around, each one wearing the unusual, substitute school uniform from before. Besides the jeans, the only exceedingly remarkable item of the dress were the badges on the sleeves,
"Battlefront: Rebels against God," read the tag.
The "flashback" member huffed, and tried again. "Ok, sheesh, someone's picky. What about Suicide Core Battlefront?"
Winifred scowled at him. "No way Harry, just because it's happened doesn't mean we accept it, remember?"
"This is so stupid," a low voice murmured. Mike had to start to sit up to see the speaker. There was an ominous girl lurking in the corner, her face concealed by a veil of dark hair and a scarf.
"Desperate Battlefront?" proposed another girl. She possessed short, prickly hair and leaned candidly against a table.
Winifred huffed, beginning to pace. "No, no, we're not desperate! Come on guys, this is important!" she paused. "Hey, the new guy's awake! Pretty quick, considering you were snapped in half when we found you outside. So, what do you think?"
Mike propped himself up on his elbows, looking up at the young commando incredulously. "What are you talking about?"
"Our name! You've had time enough to think of one. Come on moron, you have to have something."
Mike bristled. "Screw-you Battlefront."
The people around him jerked, affronted faces turning to him.
"Hey, watch it bub," Emmanuel snarled, waving his fist in Mike's direction. "Don't go disrespecting Fred."
Mike scrambled up, fists raised. The thought of actually fighting left him very nervous, but he felt trapped. "So? I don't have to go along with you crazies!" An idea finally occurred to him, based off of the memory of last night's conversation with Winnifred. Previously, he'd done his best to suppress all memories of the girl. "I'm going to go get obliterated. Whatever that means!"
"Interesting…" came a soft murmur. Another young man stepped towards Mike, a tall figure with wire-rimmed glasses. "You would risk obliteration… even though you haven't the slightest clue what happens after it?"
Mike lowered his arms, starring at his peer nervously. "What happens… after?" The figure nodded, pushing his glasses back up his nose with a casual movement. "Indeed. The afterlife.
"Most religions are divided on the matter. Some believe in reincarnation, that maybe our destination after this world is another life. Others believe in heaven, or some other world that we move on to. In any case, our presence here proves little. Only that we are dead, and that there is some form of deity, or God, who brought us here.
Michael hesitated, his breath slowing. "So, I am dead? I mean, I'm really dead."
Everyone nodded.
"We all are," Harry added with a rueful grin. "Thanks for the reminder."
Mike thought on this. Well, as he couldn't remember anything from his life, he supposed it wasn't a terribly big deal. It wasn't like he had memories to mourn over.
"Most of us are in the reincarnation camp," a massive, heavily muscled young man with caterpillar eyebrows added helpfully. "It just seems more exciting. "
"And that's why you don't want to be obliterated," Elliot continued, his face impassive. "You don't know what could happen. You could end up anywhere, anything could come next. You could end up reincarnated, not just as a human, but as a…"
"A barnacle!" the bright eyed boy, Luke, pointed out. "I wouldn't want to be a barnacle."
A barnacle? Mike wondered, thoughtful. That does sound dull.
"Yeah," Emmanuel snorted, disdainful. "You could reincarnate as a snail, or even a barnacle, and then get eaten!"
"Are barnacles edible?" the giant wondered.
"Some are. It depends on the genus," Elliot explained.
Harry rubbed his jaw. "I never knew that…" he muttered.
"This is so stupid…" the girl in the corner muttered again.
"Enough!" howled Winifred, eyes scrunched in frustration. "You guys are ridiculous."
Mike looked at her thoughtfully. "Is that true? About what could happen next?" he asked, as the noonday sun from outside filtered in around them.
She shrugged, her eyes sparkling with flame. "Doesn't matter. Religion: Buddhism, Islam, Christianity, it's all just something people made up. Even if there is a God, and I suppose there must be for us to be here, he has no power over us. And we don't have to follow him."
She suddenly straightened. "Instead, we will fight against him, and take control over our fates.
" You see, back when we were alive, we lived under death's shadow. Death could come for us at any time, and any moment. We couldn't avoid accidents, our lives were fragile. But it's different here.
She leaned in, her pale face flushed with intensity. "Here, death has no power over us. It appears that as long as we are not obliterated, we cannot leave this world. As long as we resist, then we remain. Because we cannot die, we are free to pursue the mission of the Battlefront. Our true cause, you will learn in time."
She stuck out a calloused hand. "And so, are you ready to join the, the…" she paused, her momentum flagging. "Uh, what are we called now?"
"Barnacle-Battlefront" Harry put in helpfully.
"Right, right, the distinguished Barnacle-Battlefront-"
CLONK.
Harry fell back against the wall, whimpering. "Nice kick," he moaned.
Winnie turned back to Mike, hands on hips. "Right." She took a breath, and returned her gaze to Mike. Everyone around Mike leaned in.
"So, what do you say? Will you join us in our crusade? Will you help us fight against God's angel? It's a hard fight, but together, we know eventually we will be victorious."
Mike starred back at her. He swallowed.