IMMOLATION: CHAPTER 52

“...crushed the last of the European Alliance earlier this week and have begun their march through Egypt,” the voice from the television said over images of the war torn parts of the world. “No doubt hoping to secure for themselves the few remaining oilfields.”

France held out the longest, Judge Dervin thought with amusement. Of course, it helped the France was furthest from the Asian Pact and so buffered itself behind the rest of the European countries. Now, images of Paris burning dominated the news cast. Still, nothing shown on the television could be worse than what he could see in his room. He tried not to think about it, and tried even harder not to look at it. As for the smell, his hopes that he'd get use to it were fading and all he could wish for now was that it wouldn't last too much longer. What passed for food in his captivity was hard enough to swallow without the it being tainted with...

Judge Dervin shut his eyes and tried not to think about it. He focused on the pain in his legs, in his back, in his wrists. He listened to the news reporter, anything to get his mind off of—

“...Heat Machine is the only bright ray of hope,” said the reporter and Judge Dervin's eyes shot back open.

There, on the screen, were Matt and Dr. Muto smiling and shaking hands at a press conference and rage welled up inside of Judge Dervin at the sight of them.

“We are excited for the advances we have made in the last several months,” Dr. Muto was saying, “and we should be able to produce more of these Heat Machines within the year, providing clean, efficient energy for the world.”

Dr. Muto's voice faded out, though his image continued to speak, and the reporter resumed her commentary.

“Opponents of this new initiative,” her smooth voice stated, “have questioned the so-called philanthropic motives of Doctors Muto and Wellis, arguing that if they really wanted to help the world, they would make the plans to the Heat Machine available to all, as opposed to their current stance of secrecy on how exactly their Heat Machine works. Others have raised questions about how they're generating the heat needed to power the Heat Machine.”

Behind Matt and Dr. Muto stood the dome of the Heat Machine and Judge Dervin knew immediately what their heat source was. Though the dome was new, he had no difficulty in recognizing Joan's enclosure.

“But what about the others you're going to build?” he asked the television. “How are you going to heat those?”

A squelching sound to his side drove all other thoughts from his mind. Nothing could have prepared him for the horrors he experienced in his captivity, and the worst by far was sitting, or more accurately, decaying right beside him. A sound like a number of wet rags sliding and squishing against one another proceeded another squelching thump and a dripping drizzle that slowed and then, mercifully, stopped.

Stench beyond description assaulted his nose and eyes and he retched freely into his lap. There was no use in fighting his gag reflex any more. He didn't have the strength to resist anymore. Judge Dervin didn't dare to look, but from the sounds and smells he could piece together what had happened. Perhaps the body would decompose faster, now that...more of it...was exposed. A small consolation to be sure, but in such dire conditions he would take what he could get.

In many ways, he envied his one-time companion in captivity. He was dead, no more suffering, no more pain. Blissful, eternal sleep. Judge Dervin would have ended his own life not long after his companion's death if he could have managed it. Even now he considered starving himself but the pains of hunger were stronger, for for the time being at least, than his desires to end it all.

“Later today,” the reporter went on, “the President will be meeting in a closed session of Congress to discuss the South American threat. A declaration of war is expected, though many wonder if this is merely a ploy to gain control of the South American oil reserves, as opposed to what the administration is calling a justifiable preemptive strike.”

All his professional life he'd fought and argued for justice, always believing the good would ever triumph over evil. Certainly there were tragedies, certainly there were those who went unpunished, but overall, in the grand scheme of things, good would always win. Or so he had once thought.

Judge Dervin hung his head and he wept.

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Sorry for the late post. Root canals and sick children seriously slow down your day. I'm looking at going back and making some edits to Chapter 51, fixing some story stuff, so keep an eye out for that. 

About this chapter, I've tried to leave most of the visuals to your imagination. What do you think? I wrote it out very descriptively the first time through and didn't like it.