by David Brush
“W… w … w … work?”
“Yes, Doctor. The Crusaders are branching out, and you’ll get to play a starring role in our expansion. I know many people who would literally kill to be granted such a distinct honor.”
“W… what would I be doing exactly?”
“In time, Doctor, in time. See, Dr. Reya, how eager our newest recruit is? That go-getter attitude will get you far with me, Tellman. Now come along. I’d like you to escort me to the Induction chambers if you’d be so kind.”
“What for?”
“Again, Doctor, in due time,” responded Dante, rising from his seat. “Raphael, if you would, make sure that the good doctor here doesn’t fall behind.”
As the brute of a man approached the pasty captive, the doctor let out an audible squeak and hurried over to the door to lead the group through the maze of crisscrossing hallways that comprised the inner sanctum.
“Step quickly, Doctor! You’re doing the Lord’s work now,” said Dante through the twisted smile on his face.
A dull blue light glimmered through each pane of the reinforced glass that stretched the length of the hall. The cells in the inner sanctum were less like cages and more like suites. The corridor was lined with well furnished rooms containing everything that one could possibly desire. They had been built for captive high priority targets whom Dr. Nightrick deemed worthy of not suffering the indignity of being tossed into the actual prison that sat just a few blocks over. Mostly though, the rooms got used by high ranking Neuro Corp employees and government officers visiting the facility.
Dr. Karich sat there in one such suite, trying to figure out the source of the cacophony that he continued to hear. Explosions, gunfire, sirens, it sounded like a warzone, and it sounded like that warzone was moving towards him at an alarming speed. He stood up, continuing to stare out the mesh window. The sound of his cell door sliding open brought him back to the present moment. A brilliant green light rose up from the lone AI console sitting nearby.
“Your presence is requested by Dr. Nightrick,” stated Turing. “Please allow the Shadow Guard to escort you to the Citadel.”
A phalanx of soldiers flanked him as he walked out of the suite and dutifully made his way towards the stronghold that Nightrick used as his private chamber in the facility. The warriors surrounding him wore the signature black armor of Special Branch, each one masked in the same plated helmet that made them the faceless agents of destruction they were renowned to be. As the group entered Dr. Nightrick’s accommodations, he stood up from behind his desk to greet them. “Omar, Central Intelligence has just informed me that your son is approaching this wing to try and free you as we speak. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s insurmountably outnumbered.”
“If you do anything to harm him, John, you mark my words that my last act on this planet will be to crush the air out of your lungs.”
Nightrick walked to the other side of his desk. “I have no desire to harm him; I just want to speak with him. He’s got the potential to do great things if he can free himself from the ideological shackles that bind him. The easiest way to avoid a violent confrontation here, obviously, would be for you to explain to your son the situation and convince him that it’s in everyone’s best interest to avoid any further fighting.”
“Why would I help you?”
“Because you’ll be burying your boy if you refuse to help me put a leash on him. I won’t allow you people to further escalate an already unnecessary and brutal conflict because you want to take turns playing hero. If James works with me, together we can do great things. We can end this war and forge a new path forward for humanity, a path that will cast our light out to the farthest reaches of the galaxy. Your son is brilliant. I don’t want to see him squander his talent and his life dying in a futile and useless war against progress. I wouldn’t wish to deprive our species of everything that he’s capable of. But he’s young and he’s reckless. As you’re well aware, I was like that once too, but I saw the light in time to avoid destroying myself. I have a feeling that only you will stand a chance of talking any sense into him, and if you can’t, I’ll contain the situation without a second thought.” A second alarm blared loudly over the still shrieking first. Nightrick tapped his datacuff, silencing the siren. “They’re about two districts down. They’ll be here shortly. I implore you to make the right decision. If you care about your son’s future at all, you’ll help me make sure that he has one.”
Haley stared down the hall at the final door standing between them and the cellblock that they were fighting their way toward. She pushed on, even though she felt like her body was getting ready to shut down. The prison was less of a complex and more of a city, exhaustingly large and horrendously well manned. Matt hobbled along beside her, wincing every so often but keeping a decent pace. As they bypassed the final door into the inner sanctum, the group came to a halt. There before them stood Dr. Karich, pacing outside of his now open cell.
“Dad,” said James running towards him.
“How could you be so stupid, James? I taught you better than this,” said Dr. Karich, embracing his son. “This is suicide. And you brought Haley along for this madness? This has to stop. Put your weapons down and Dr. Nightrick has agreed to spare all of you. He doesn’t want to fight you, James. He wants to work with you. Your life doesn’t have to end here.”
James frowned. “Work with me? I’ll never work with that tyrant. He’s enslaving our entire species. Why can’t you see that? He alone is responsible for the deaths of millions. He shells civilians indiscriminately, tortures dissenters, enslaves the young, and sweeps aside the old. There’ll be no peace until he’s been removed from power.”
“Removed by what, James? The five of you? He has an army at his disposal and unlimited resources. If you try to fight him here, he’ll kill us all. I’m not going to let you throw your life away like this. It’s meaningless.”
“It’s not your life to throw away, it’s mine.”
“And what about Haley? I imagine you two ran away so that you could be together. Getting yourselves killed here will have made that thoroughly pointless. If you end this now, I’m sure that we can convince Dr. Nightrick to give both of you a pass on Induction. I’ve known him for a long time, James, a lot longer than you. He can be a reasonable man, just don’t push him any further.”
“What about me?” said Haley, stepping forward. “We made our decision together and we’re standing by it. If we don’t fight Nightrick now, while we still can, soon there will be no one left to oppose him.”
Dr. Karich shook his head. “There will be no one left to oppose him if you all die here because you’re too proud to stop. Survive now, fight later. You kids don’t know the first thing about war. You think this is a game? I’ve seen what comes from rebellion, and trust me, it’s never what you hope it will be.”
A burst of gunfire rang out in the block as Michael staggered to one knee. He pulled his hands back from his side, smeared in crimson. The group turned, reflexively raising their weapons as Dante and his ensemble approached from the adjacent access way.
“I hope I’m not interrupting this very touching reunion,” said Dante, keeping his handgun trained on Michael. “It looks like you didn’t need our help after all. I haven’t been able to locate our old friend Dr. Nightrick yet. I don’t suppose you’ve seen him?”
“Raphael,” Michael groaned in agony, still clutching his side. “Where’s Gabriel?” He didn’t need a response to know what had happened. The shamed, infinitely sad look on his brother’s face said more than any words ever would. “How could you?” he murmured in disbelief. “He was our little brother, our flesh and blood. He loved you, Raphael! He would have died for you!”
“I’m a soldier, Michael, same as you are, same as he was,” said Raphael. “We all knew exactly what we were putting on the line when we joined the Crusaders.”
Michael looked down at the ground. “Then both of my brothers are dead.”
D
ante sneered at him for a moment before lowering his pistol. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have pressing business to attend to,” he said, turning to continue down the cellblock towards Nightrick’s chambers. “This seems more like a family matter anyway. Raphael, make sure that these traitors and blasphemers do not interrupt me ever again.”
Before the massive Archangel could raise his coil rifle, Michael flew at his brother like lightning, blind to the physical pain that he had felt just moments before. He knocked the weapon away and grabbed onto his collar, trying with all his might to throw the giant. Raphael countered, sending the duo into a spinning grapple. They jostled, slamming each other against the walls, both locked in their final embrace. The giant finally managed to break the stalemate, slamming his head into his brother’s so hard that he went blind for a moment. Michael staggered backwards in a stupor, just barely dodging the flurry of swings being thrown at him as his vision blurred back into focus. He fought with all his might, but he was losing blood too fast to maintain his strength. He took another desperate lunge at Raphael, who simply snatched him out of the air as if he was a plaything. The giant lowered him back to the ground and brought his boot down through his knee, crushing the leg backwards. Michael screamed in agony as the bone gave way before the onslaught of the black combat boot. Resisting the urge to pass out, he propped himself up on his remaining knee, grabbing hold of the nearby doorframe for support.
Raphael took a moment to regard his older brother before kicking the gimped man square in the chest, collapsing a number of his ribs and flinging him back into the cell through the sheer force of the blow. By the time he landed on the tiled apartment floor, Michael was so deep in shock that he could barely even feel his imploded chest. It was all he could do to draw enough oxygen into his body to remain conscious.
The two Archangels were still too close to each other to offer a clean shot to anyone else in the room. Turning from his brother, Raphael drew his sidearm in response to James’s attempt to rush him, squeezing off the first shot with the effortless accuracy of someone who treated their weapon like an extension of their own arm. As James realized his mistake, he felt the impact of Dr. Karich’s foot, knocking him into Matt.
Raphael fired another shot at the tumbling rebels, but failed to get a third off before being tackled by the doctor. Both men went careening into the cell onto Michael, who spit a large glob of blood up into the air as the duo landed on his battered chest. The moment the path was clear, Megan ran over to the room’s exterior interface and quickly locked the cell door with her datacuff, causing the entry to slam shut as Raphael and Dr. Karich rose to their feet.
The Archangel hammered blow after blow down onto his significantly older opponent, but the doctor managed to deflect all of them. Dr. Karich brought his knee up hard into Raphael’s groin and turned, rolling the giant off of his hip. The Crusader pushed out of the spin and back onto his feet, albeit hunched a bit from the strike. He kicked for his opponent’s knee to collapse it as he had his brother’s, but the chemist was faster. The old man dodged sideways and swept up with his hand, forcing Raphael’s leg past its natural elevation, sending the giant spiraling down hard onto the cell’s surface.
The Archangel propped himself onto his hands and knees with a grunt. For the first time that day, he could feel a trickle of blood running down his chin. He shoved back onto his feet and studied his opponent for a moment, pacing the room without reengaging. Dr. Karich stared back, never breaking eye contact. The Archangel nodded, wiping away the blood on his face with the back of his hand. “Congratulations, old man. You’re the first decent fight I’ve had all day.”
Dr. Karich gave him a small smile. “I’m also the last decent fight you’ll ever have, so enjoy it.”
“We’ll see,” said Raphael, sweeping down on him again like a hurricane. The doctor blocked each blow, but he could feel his arms beginning to give way under the immense power of the beast trying to kill him.
James untangled himself from Matt, scrambling back onto his feet. The side of his chest felt bruised from the raw force behind his father’s kick, but he ignored the pulsing pain as he ran to collect his weapon off the floor nearby. Haley and Matt were already at the cell door by the time James had gotten over to them.
“Megan, open the door,” said Matt, giving her a nasty look. “We don’t have time for this shit.”
She shook her head. “We can’t risk Raphael escaping. He’s got enough chlorine gas on him to flood the entire cellblock with it.”
“I’m armed, for God’s sake. Open the fucking door!” Matt yelled at her. She backed away, never letting her gaze wander from Michael’s broken body. As the argument continued, James’s eyes were locked squarely on his embattled father.
In the cell, Dr. Karich continued to keep Raphael at bay, but he could tell that he was no match for the seasoned Crusader. He looked out on James and realized that the second the boy managed to get the cell door open again, the now cornered Archangel would unleash his chemical arsenal, turning the entire sector into a vapor holocaust. He smiled at his son one last time, then slipped his fingers through two of the metal rings dangling off of Raphael’s vest and pulled. The Archangel tried to stop the old man, but he was too slow. As the first ring cleared the green canister that it had adorned, a stream of pressurized gas poured into the room.
“DAD!” screamed James, running over to the cell door as Raphael and Dr. Karich stopped fighting each other and started fighting for air in the quickly filling chamber. He pounded his fist against the glass, then stepped back and unloaded his rifle into the sheet, which cracked but held.
“Open the door! Open the ventilation ducts in the room, Megan! Hurry!” he said, tossing his empty rifle aside with a wild look on his face.
“I can’t. If Raphael survives, then everyone here dies. Your father knew what he was doing.”
James rushed at her with blood in his eyes, drawing his sidearm and raising it to her head. “Open the fucking door now, or you’ll be taking the same trip as everyone in that room.” He could hear his father gasping for air. He glanced sideways and saw the men pressed against the glass, instinctively trying to free themselves. As he caught his son’s eye, Dr. Karich stopped struggling and pressed his middle finger, forefinger, and thumb up against the glass in the form of an upside down triangle. James watched his father reaching out towards him in his final moments, trying still to save his son.
“James!” cried out Haley, causing him to turn towards her. “Don’t! It’s not what he would want!”
As he turned his attention momentarily towards his girlfriend, Matt tried to make a move. He sprinted forward as best he could, but his wounded leg slowed him. James threw a hard knee into his chest, sending him reeling backward. “One more step, Matt, and she’s gone. Now open the door, Megan, or I’ll open you.”
“I’m so sorry, James. I know how hard this is for you, but I can’t…” The slug knocked her head back, lifting her just slightly off of her feet. James grabbed her wrist with his free hand as her lifeless body slumped over against the wall. Matt let out a cry of rage and rushed at him once again, but couldn’t move fast enough. James leveled the pistol and fired another shot clean through his friend’s already damaged right leg. Matt collapsed onto the floor in an erratic spasm, blacking out in an ever growing pool of his own blood.
“JAMES!” screamed Haley in disbelief. “You… you…”
“Did what had to be done,” he responded with an angry confidence that sent a shiver through her whole body. He tossed the depleted pistol aside and tapped the datacuff attached to the deceased woman’s wrist, turning on the ventilation shafts and rapidly sucking the poisonous cloud from the room, lifting the vale of death. James touched the display one more time, opening the door to the cell, before tossing Megan’s limp arm aside like a piece of trash. He rushed into the room, turning Dr. Karich over onto his back. The master chemist had closed his eyes before dying, but the greenish-yellow skin on his face was
blistered and disfigured. The young rebel let out a cry of fury as he held his father’s head. For the second time in his life, he faced the agony of being orphaned. He looked through the pane of glass at Haley, who had rushed over to Megan. A large part of the dead woman’s skull had detached as a result of the near pointblank shot, and it hung loosely as Haley lifted her to check her condition.
“You killed her…,” she started in disbelief. “She was your friend, James…you… you killed her…”
“She killed my father,” he bit back in blistering rage. His red eyes turned on her in disgust. “The bitch killed my father. She’s lucky that she got the quick death she did.”
“And Matt,” she continued, standing up and approaching the grievously wounded CLF agent. “He needs medical attention or he’s going to bleed out. What have you done?”
“They killed him, Haley. I warned them both never to threaten the safety of my family again,” he gasped out, trying hard not to let his anger turn against her. “Whose side are you on? He loved you like a daughter, Haley. Fuck Megan and Matt. All we have left in this world now is each other.”
“You know that I loved him too, but he never would have wanted this. If all we have left is each other, then I have nothing left at all.”
James gently set his father’s head back down against the cool tile and stood up to approach her. As he neared the door, the heavy metal slammed shut again, locking him in the chamber.
“What the hell?” he said, slamming his fist against the door. One final shot rang out in the cellblock. He looked out at Haley as she staggered forward a step or two before collapsing onto the ground next to Matt. Dr. Nightrick walked into view of the chamber, holding a small handgun at his side. The Shadow Guard stood nearby, maintaining a respectable distance.
“She’s fine, James, just unconscious,” said the doctor, bending over to check her pulse. He paused before standing back up, eyes locked on his old friend’s corpse. “What a mess. I’m sorry about what happened to your father. Omar Karich was one of the greatest men that I’ve ever known, and I’m proud to have called him a friend once. His loss is a scar that this nation will bear until its twilight. Your father was a wise man, James, wise enough to see how fruitless all of this fighting is, and yet still he paid the ultimate price. This is the legacy that the Crusaders leave everywhere they go: carnage. That coward Dante ran off the second he realized that he’s only strong against unarmed civilians.”