Incarnate- Essence

by Thomas Harper

  “Incoming!” Major Ellison shouted.

  “UAV?” Ross asked, “where?”

  “The road!” Major Riviera shouted.

  “What…?”

  There was no need to explain. Two more transport trucks approached, kicking up a cloud of dust. Reinforcements. The LoC Security agents fired on them, 20 mm guns thundering. The trucks swerved. Muzzle flashes blinked from turrets on top.

  “They’re unmanned…” I said.

  Darren paid little attention, concentrating on driving toward the-

  “Fuck!”

  The UAV railgun hummed. I looked up, trying to find it through the Swiss cheese roof of our van. Shouting over my earpiece. The humming surged.

  “Where?” someone said just as a flash burst behind us, the savage roar of the explosion hitting a split second after.

  I turned, looking through the mangled back doors of the van swinging behind us. A column of smoke and wreckage climbed toward the sky from our headquarters.

  “We got UGVs!” Riviera shouted.

  I turned back around, looking through the missing passenger window. The two approaching trucks had opened. Four more SABERCATs bolted out, spreading over the yard. Grenades whistled from their turrets, exploding, debris joining the deluge raining down from the devastated headquarters.

  “Ellen?” Darren said, barely audible over the havoc.

  “Keep going!” I said.

  “The medics were in the house…”

  “Keep going or we’re all dead!”

  More 20 mms bellowed. Boards on the upstairs windows splintered. The cacophony grew louder as we approached the bullet-riddled trafficker’s house. M16s popped, .45 caliber rifles cracked. Voices shouted. UGVs tore across the terrain, firing .50 caliber machine guns. Grenades howled and exploded. Dirt flung into the air around us as steel rained down everywhere.

  Darren skidded to a stop near the ruined transport trucks. Both of us jumped out, looking at the moat blocking our path.

  “The transport truck!” I shouted.

  “Huh?”

  “Push it into the moat!” I ran to the driver’s side.

  Darren followed. He used his bionic left hand to smash the window, reaching in and opening the door. He jumped in, glancing back out at me, blood dripping down his fear addled face.

  Then the crescendo of the UAV’s surging rail gun sounded again. Shouting flooded my earpiece. Darren’s expression twisted in terror. I dove to the ground as the piercing blast rocked the earth, shockwave lifting one side of the truck off the ground several inches, landing a foot from my head. Pain pierced my chest, ears ringing.

  And then more blasts, the agents firing their 20 mm guns at the drone.

  I scrambled to my feet, running toward the front of the truck as a burst of bullets tossed dirt up around me. I stopped, jumped to the side, dancing around like the ground was lava as dry soil sprayed over me.

  Darren tried starting it, getting only a ticking sound. A guard jumped across the moat onto our side, trotting toward the truck. I peered over, pistol in hand. The guard’s M16 popped, bullets whizzing past my head. Darren shouted. I dropped to the dirt driveway, peering around the truck, and fired my pistol wildly, all shots missing the guard.

  Finally, the moving truck’s engine sputtered to life, belching smoke. Darren peeled out, backing the truck and hitting the bellowing guard. He frantically turned the wheel, coming at the moat at a slant, and then jumped from the door, letting the vehicle crash into the sludge with a thick splash, sinking sideways into it. The guard held onto the back, his screams turning to gurgles as he sunk into the moat.

  I ran back to the van, lifting the heavy .45 caliber off my seat. I followed Darren as he limped onto the side of the truck sticking out of the thick water and ran across to the other side.

  A blur barreled past, sending me sprawling on the dry grass, dropping the large rifle. A SABERCAT. I scrambled, trying to pick up the rifle. My ears popped, ringing as an explosion lifted me off the ground, slamming me down. Vision blurred and disoriented, I got back to my feet.

  “It’s coming back around again!” agent Brie’s voice said in my earpiece.

  I turned, seeing the animalistic robot whip around and head back toward me. Awareness took several moments to return once I saw muzzle flashes. Something else knocked me off my feet.

  “Keep moving!” Reynolds growled.

  I was in the arms of an exoskeleton as .50 caliber bullets whizzed past. Another explosion, chunks of dirt blooming in front as my rescuer skidded to a stop. The metallic cheetah bolted past, my rescuer whipping around, firing their 20 mm gun, missing.

  “Get inside,” Reynolds ordered, setting me down.

  I stood a second, dazed.

  Which way is the house?

  Reynolds took off, sprinting toward the SABERCAT. I watched after him, the exo suit limping, chunks missing from it. Ahead of him the SABERCAT erupted in an explosion, sending it summersaulting through the air.

  Spotting the .45 caliber rifle, I hobbled back over. It sat on the edge of a shallow crater where a grenade had exploded. I picked it up, checked it – still functional – and started toward the front entrance.

  My lungs burned as I gasped. Smoke and fumes filled the air. I leapt the foot between ground the the side of the truck, foot catching on a whole in the shredded siding. The .45 caliber fell from my hands as I stumbled forward, catching myself. Sharp pain spiked through my shin as jagged metal bet into it. Gritting my teeth, I carefully liberated my leg from the hole. Blood poured over the bottom of my torn pants onto my shoe. Ignoring it, I shambled across the flimsy vehicle, retrieving the rifle. Darren made his way over, grabbing me and helping me the rest of the way across.

  “You awright?” he asked, shouting over the cacophony.

  “Yeah,” I said, limping, “keep going. Inside.”

  Before opening it, the door came flying off the hinges, knocking me back onto the porch floor, dropping the rifle again.

  Christ, I need to bungee that shit.

  Two people wearing the EXO:B-009s darted out. Darren fell just as one fired his .45 caliber, the shot grazing the shoulder of Darren’s Kevlar vest. Darren screamed. I grabbed my .45 and pointed it up, firing, the shot knocking the man back as it tore through his vest. The other guard shouted, raising his rifle to shoot at me just as Darren fired his pistol, hitting him in the leg. The guard’s .45 roared, but the bullet hit a porch pillar, splintering the wood.

  “Go! Go!” I yelled, Darren scrambling to his feet and running into the house just as the swelling hum of the UAV’s rail gun started.

  I stood up, drew my pistol, and aimed at the wounded guard. He was about to shout something when I pulled the trigger, splattering blood over the porch. I picked up the .45 caliber and lugged it through the front door just as the rail gun vented in a ferocious detonation, the entire frame of the house jolting, sounding as if it might give out.

  Darren stumbled and came to a stop just inside. A bearded man sat on a wooden chair in the middle of the living room, eyes staring off at nothing. Darren glanced to me with a confused look. I holstered my pistol and put a finger to my lips, handing him the cumbersome .45 cal. He watched, his confusion abating as I walked quietly toward the bearded man, taking out a combat knife.

  Just before I reached the bearded man, he jumped from the chair, cursing. I lunged at him, sinking the blade into his forearm. He shouted. Darren ran, throwing himself bodily into the bearded man, hitting him with the rifle. Both of them toppled to the floor, the bearded man rolling Darren over onto his back and wrapping his hands around the former trafficker’s neck.

  Darren tried in vain to push him off with the rifle. I sprinted over, plunging the knife into the bearded man’s side. He hollered, reaching back for me as I pulled the blade away, bringing it back down again. He fell off Darren. I leaped over him, my legs straddling the trafficker’s torso, and swept the blade across his throat. He sputtered, grasping at the bleeding wound as it reddened his
dark beard.

  I sheathed the knife and groped at the man’s eyes, hearing a wet gargling as he tried to scream. I slipped the AR contacts from his eyes as I stepped away from the spasming body, bringing them up to my eyes. Darren stared at me with disbelief as the display from the UAV’s point of view came up

  “Got it,” I said, “I got the drone!”

  From above the battlefield, I saw the eight remaining agents, the others having all fallen victim to the drone’s rail gun. Nothing left of them but the smoldering craters left in the dry earth. The survivors were still engaged in a firefight with one remaining SABERCAT and ten of the guards. The truck Darren and I used to cross the moat had been destroyed by the UAV. Chunks were missing from the house, acrid smoke wafting in.

  “The goddamn moat’s on fire!” Darren said shrilly.

  Maneuvering the UAV was’t easy. I tried aiming at the guards hiding behind the remains of the transport truck, seeing flames licking across the moat. The agents closed in on them, no longer having to fear the UAV. I fired the machine guns, crumpling the remaining SABERCAT, but almost hit one of the agents when I pulled up.

  “I thought you had it!” Major Ellison shouted.

  “Sorry,” I said, cringing.

  “Goddamit, kid.”

  The UAV flew so fast I had to make a wide arc to turn it back around.

  “Come on, come on!” I heard Darren’s voice.

  “You find the kids?” I asked.

  “No,” he hissed, “they got suited guards at the door.”

  “They do?” I asked, “Why aren’t they outside…”

  I didn’t have time to think about it. A message popped up. My manual override clearance was being overruled. Someone was taking back control of the UAV. I pulled down hard, aiming the UAV at the ground, seeing a brown cornfield approach fast. Just before impact, the display went away, kicking me off control. Too late. From the distance came a rumbling explosion as it crashed to the earth.

  “It’s down,” I said, taking the ARs from my eyes, throwing them to the floor and stomping on them.

  Darren handed the .45 caliber back to me as I followed him into the kitchen. I peered around the corner, seeing two more traffickers with their crude Kevlar exoskeletons.

  Darren, with a frightened look on his face, stepped out into the kitchen, an M16 he’d taken from the drone pilot held down at his side. I was about to follow after him when I realized his plan. He still has his RFID from being a trafficker.

  “What the hell?” A voice said, “What are you doing here?”

  “We need help out there,” Darren said, “those guys in the exos’re tearin’ through us right quick.”

  “Fuck you,” one of the traffickers said.

  Another 20 mm shot rattled the house.

  “Forget about the got-damn kids,” Darren said, “ther gonna kill us all.”

  “What are you, retarded?” the guard asked, “we’re not here to guard those spic runts you fucking dimwit.”

  “Well I’m fixin’ tuh get the fuck outta here,” Darren said.

  “You’re gonna surrender?” one of the guards said, taking a step forward.

  “Ya’ll really wanna risk yer lives for this?” Darren asked, “I dunno bout ya’ll, but I only got inna this shit cuz I was in debt up ta my asshole.”

  “Ain’t gonna pay us if we run off,” the other guard said.

  “Ain’t gonna pay us if we’re dead, neither,” Darren said, “An’ fuck this shit anyway. This really what ya’ll saw yerselves doin’ for a livin’?”

  “If it weren’t us doin’ it, someone else would.”

  I watched out the window as I listened, flame and black smoke dancing wildly off the moat and spreading onto the dry grass. The guards were dispersing into the corn field, LoC Security agents chasing after them.

  “Maybe,” Darren shrugged, “but right now, them LoC folks are fixin’ tuh crack skulls. I for one mean ta keep mine in one piece.”

  “They might kill us anyway!”

  The gunfire grew quiet as the agents pursued the traffickers farther away.

  “The other houses surrendered right quick,” Darren said, “they were shown mercy. Listen,” he paused a moment, “the fightin’s comin’ to an end. If the got-damn house don’t burn down, they gonna be stormin’ in here mighty fast. You think them clunky suits’re gonna protect you against 20 mils?”

  “Man, fuck this!” the closest guard said. He started undoing the straps holding his suit to him.

  “The hell you doin’, Stevens?” the other asked, fear in his voice.

  “This shit ain’t worth it,” Stevens said, “I paid my debt off months ago. I dunno why I’m still here.”

  “Montgomery’s gonna kill us!” the other said.

  “Fuck ‘em,” Stevens said, “you can do whatever ya want.”

  The other guard grunted and started undoing his straps, too. Both of them looked up in surprise when I limped into the room holding the .45 caliber, barrel pointed at the floor.

  “You ain’t one of our guys!” Stevens said.

  “Use’tuh be,” Darren said, looking back at me, “till the Christmas Crossin’,” he looked back to the guards, both with their exoskeletons half way off, “they shown me more mercy’n I ever deserved. Reckon they’ll do the same fer ya’ll.”

  Both guards stared at us in silence as we made for the door. Darren nodded to the other guard. He raised his forearm, letting the RFID chip embedded there unlock the door for us, and we proceeded into the basement.

  At the top of the stairs I already spotted the tear-soaked faces of three children looking back up at us. I ran down to the landing and looked into the large holding area. An overweight man in a rumpled suit and slicked back hair sat on the other side of the room, a little girl on his lap, pistol pointed to her head.

  “I take it you’re here for them?” he said in a shaky voice, the sound of a distant explosion rumbling through the dingy cellar.

  “Who are you?” I demanded.

  He said nothing for some time. His eyes stared off, the pistol trained at the girl angled so far it would only graze her. The man wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings.

  He’s bringing in another UAV.

  Darren came down the stairs, joining me at the bottom. He started lifting the M16, but stopped when he saw the situation. Another 20 mm shot off in the distance.

  They’re going to be sitting ducks out in that field if another UAV shows up…

  “I don’t suppose I’ll be getting outta here alive,” the man said, still staring into his ARs, “but I wonder how many of these kids you’ll sacrifice just to get me.”

  “I don’t even know who you are,” I said.

  “I imagine your friend does,” he said, a smirk appearing at the corners of his mouth.

  I looked to Darren.

  “Corbin Montgomery,” Darren said, keeping his eyes on the man, “the boss. He’s the one who recruited me.”

  Corbin’s grin widened, “there’s never a shortage of desperate men who need an opportunity to turn their fortunes around. I recruited you, but I’m certainly not the boss.”

  “Who is?” I asked, the .45 caliber rifle getting heavy in my hands.

  “Quiet,” Corbin said with a chuckle, “you’re distracting me.”

  I started forward, but his pistol aimed back at the girl again after a few steps. Her lip quivered, eyes soggy with tears.

  “So, what is it you want then?” I asked.

  “Well, if it’s not too much trouble, you can get all of your people and leave,” Corbin said, “maybe send back all of my property, too.”

  “Go to hell,” Darren said.

  “I didn’t think you would see it my way,” he shrugged, “Worth a try, though. I suppose the best I can ask for then is for you to let me live and go free?”

  “You’ll let all these children go if we do?” I asked, the smell of the burning moat crawling into the basement now.

  “Why not?” he said, �
��if anything is more abundant than desperate men needing quick cash, its desperate Mexicans willing to sell their children like cheap roadside trinkets.”

  Darren grunted. I could feel his anger as he stood just behind me. Corbin Montgomery embodied everything Akira accused Darren of being. I held my hand up, signaling him not to do anything rash. Corbin didn’t seem to notice the gesture. I stamped my foot. He re-straightened the pistol again.

  He’s only seeing the UAV display.

  I pointed to the girl sitting in his lap. She looked at me with fear and confusion. I put my finger to lips, shushing. She kept her eyes on me. I pointed to her, then to me, and jerked my head back. She kept staring in confusion as I did this two more times. Finally, understanding came into her eyes, but she shook her head. I nodded, but she shook harder.

  “Are you sending secret signals to my hostage while I steer in another drone?” Corbin said, “How am I to make my daring escape when your devious ploys to-”

  The girl finally heeded, swinging her head back, hitting Corbin’s nose with a sickening crack. He cried out, pistol going off, girl screaming as she fell to the floor holding her ear. I lifted the .45 caliber and squeezed the trigger.

  The bullet severed Corbin’s arm as the children cried out in terror at the deafening blast. The trafficker screamed in pain, head swinging wildly as if trying to see. I rushed him, swinging the heavy rifle. It connected with Corbin’s temple, sending him sprawling from the chair, blood pouring from the stump of his arm.

  Darren rushed beside me, lifting his foot and kicking. Corbin wheezed, getting the wind get knocked from his lungs. Darren raised his foot again, kicking the bleeding man in the crotch, causing him to squeal in agony. I put my arm in front of Darren, trying to contain his fury. He gave one last kick into Corbin’s stomach before stamping off.

  “Get the kids out of here,” I said, bending over and using my thumbs to pry open Corbin’s eyes and peel the AR contacts from them. He started throwing up, swirls of blood in his thick, yellow vomit. I reached over and grabbed the pistol from his severed arm, tossing it away.