Osa hauled himself into the truck beside Noah. Behind them, a sea of five thousand men tramped the dirt road, rifles banging against their backs. Their green tunics were streaked with sweat and dust; red scarves hid everything but their eyes. The air quivered with the sound of boots and the metallic click of loaded weapons.
When the truck screeched to a stop at the edge of Zo-Zo City, Osa climbed down and raised his fist.
"Today," he growled, "the government falls."
The mob poured in behind him like a flood.
Across the city, Jared stumbled out of the hospital. His face drained of colour. The streets were a slaughterhouse—police officers lay scattered like discarded dolls, holes punched through their bodies, rifles slipping from their hands. Blood crept across the pavement and gurgled into the storm drains. The stink of iron and gunpowder clung to the air.
"Cindy!" he shouted at his former nurse.
She spun toward him, eyes wild. "It's a coup! Run, Jared—run home before you're cut down!"
He bolted into the undergrowth, branches slashing his arms as the gunfire cracked closer.
Meanwhile, Osa's lips curled as he led the charge toward the palace. His eyes glistened with hunger.
At the iron gate, a lone guard lifted his rifle. "Halt! You have no authorization—"
Osa leaned into Noah's ear. His voice was almost tender. "Kill him."
Noah's pistol barked. The guard's chest exploded, spraying the bars with gore. He crumpled sideways, mouth opening and closing like a fish. One of Osa's men ripped the keys from the dying man's pocket before his body even hit the ground. The gate groaned open.
The palace resounded with the sound of boots and shouts. They found Milton at the far end of the hall, trembling behind his desk. His chair scraped back as he staggered to his feet, hands raised high.
"Please," Milton begged, voice breaking. "I'm a good man. Don't shoot me. Apa-ti-osk—"
Osa's pistol flared. The bullet slammed into Milton's chest. He tumbled down the stairs, his blood spraying in arcs across the marble. He gurgled once, then lay still.
"I don't understand your gibberish," Osa sneered.
Two officers dragged the body away, leaving a smeared trail of red down the hall. Osa strode over the mess, boots squelching. He flung himself onto the throne, his tunic spattered with blood.
"Now," he said, almost laughing, "I am ruler of Cascadia. And every Cascadian will kneel, or choke in the dirt."