by Justin Sloan
That was a tough one, considering the nature of his arrival and the fact that he had no idea how or when he was getting back to the time ship and his own time, if ever. Knowing that the Luke of his time would definitely be able to tell if he was lying, he simply nodded.
“Good.” Luke stood, glancing back, and then motioned Giovanni to follow him. “This way. Stay close.”
They ran through the jungle, gun shots and explosions very close now, and Giovanni became keenly aware that he didn’t have a weapon. Hell, he’d settle for one of those rocks right now, and as they ran he scooped one up.
Not too soon either, because a moment later a man appeared out of the bush, screaming, rifle aimed at Luke. Giovanni was on the newcomer in a second, bashing his head in over and over with the large rock he had grabbed. He didn’t care if this was his timeline or not, anyone who tried to hurt Luke was going to meet a quick and, hopefully, painful death.
“Damn,” Luke commented, snatching up the man’s rifle and slinging it over his shoulder but holding it at the ready otherwise. “That near death experience lit a fire under your ass, huh?”
“You lit that fire…” He scratched his head, still breathing heavy. “I think the adrenaline’s making my head hurt, that metaphor didn’t exactly feel right.”
Luke laughed. “Hey, I’m not into that kinky shit, just remember that in case we ever make it out of this hell hole alive.”
Giovanni felt suddenly very self-conscious, even with all of the fighting going on around them. He wanted to laugh at himself. All of this, and possible sudden death at any minute, and here he was blushing at the thought of getting down with Luke. In his timeline, they hadn’t had much time for stuff like that.
Judging by the tempting look Luke was giving him right now, that might not be the case here.
“Let’s worry about getting out of this first,” Giovanni said, unsure how else to keep his mind on track.
Luke chuckled, glancing around and kneeling behind the closest tree. “When we get back up there, I’m getting that date you promised. Understood?”
Giovanni nodded. “Sure.”
“Yes, Sir, would be more appropriate.” Luke winked, then darted off and hissed, “Stay on my tail.”
Without hesitating, Giovanni ran after him, only then processing the “get back up there” part of what Luke had said. He could mean the mountain, but something about the way he had said it made Giovanni unsure.
They found a ridge and two men ran by. Luke gunned them down, leaped up, and took their rifles, kicking one out of sight and tossing the other to Giovanni. He pointed to a small compound not far off, toward the mountain, and said, “Take cover, I saw you limping. I don’t need a liability on my hands. They come close, you shoot.”
“And risk you getting shot out there on your own?” Giovanni shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“If you weren’t you, I’d punch you in the throat for arguing, but…deal. Come on, dammit.”
He ran forward, the two of them moving away from the compound and deeper into the jungle. A woman in special ops gear jumped out from the ground in front of them, a beam of light shining from her rifle as she took aim, and fired—Giovanni barely managed to pull Luke out of the way, the two rolling across the ground as bullets riddled the spot where he had fallen.
Luke had a pistol out and he fired from where he lay—with a twang, the shot hit the rifle and she dropped it. Blood spurted and it was now clear the shot had also taken off one of her fingers.
She was up and charging them now, dagger in her good hand. Giovanni thought for a moment he recognized her from somewhere.
There was no time for that though, as she turned from him at the last second and lunged for Luke. Where Luke had fallen, he couldn’t reach his rifle. The knife was coming dangerously close to his head, leaving Giovanni with only one choice. He lifted his rifle, barely taking time to set her in his cross-hairs, and pulled the trigger.
His bullet tore through her shoulder and she dropped the blade, giving Luke the time he needed to shove her off, grab the blade, and tear it across her throat.
“Eat shit,” he said, spitting in her face, and dashed off into the darkness as she drowned in her own blood.
Giovanni stared in horror. He had seen worse, but this felt different. Why was she wearing very similar clothes to the two of them? Why did she look so familiar? A step closer and he froze—the hair was pulled back instead of down and she had war paint beneath her eyes, but this was definitely Xan. She was dead in his timeline now too, and her loyalty had been questionable, often oscillating between helping them out and betraying them.
Was that what this was? A different version of the fight between her faction and the other resistance fighters and Marines? He supposed that could make sense, and that, in these circumstances, killing her wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. In his own timeline, she had imprisoned them and, in some ways, been responsible for Samantha’s death. Nobody would ever forgive her for that, and given Giovanni’s loyalty to Quinn, he almost relished this opportunity for an alternate reality chance for revenge.
The night felt almost too quiet for a moment and he turned, wondering which way Luke had gotten off to.
An explosion made him spin just in time to see another black-clad warrior with a pistol aimed. Giovanni hit the deck, struggled to get his rifle up, and let out a three-round burst just as the man got his first shot off.
The bullet grazed Giovanni’s ear, creating a tearing pain that stung like a bitch. While Giovanni felt the wound, relieved to find most of his ear still there, the other man fell down before him, gripping his stomach and chest as blood spewed forth.
This face wasn’t so unrecognizable, he thought with shock. “Milo?” He scooted forward, inches from the man’s face. “Milo, what the hell’s going on here?”
Milo’s mouth worked, then he coughed up blood, spitting some of it purposefully at Giovanni’s face and connecting.
“Traitor,” Milo finally managed to say, and then was still.
For a long moment that could have been seconds or could have been hours, Giovanni lay there wondering what the hell that was about. Traitor? Him, a traitor? Maybe Milo and his friends had joined Xan and those bastards in this timeline, and so being a traitor was, perhaps, a good thing.
He had a horrible feeling that wasn’t it though. A chill went up his spine in spite of the warm breeze blowing his hair across his face, along with the harsh stench of explosions and burnt flesh.
“Where the hell are you?” Luke’s whisper sounded, breaking through the darkness, and Giovanni realized the shooting and explosions had largely moved on, closer to the mountain now.
“Here,” Giovanni croaked. “I’m…here.”
Luke was at his side, helping him to stand. “Christ, were you shot?”
“Just grazed, the ear.”
“Yeah, I can tell. You look like shit.”
Giovanni wasn’t in the mood to laugh, he just nodded, checked to see that his rifle was there.
“This is the worst of it, right?” he asked. “I mean, it doesn’t go much closer to hell than this.”
Luke’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “Something’s off with you tonight, Gio. You know, it doesn’t suit you.”
“Yeah, well…”
Giovanni glanced around, wondering what would happen next and who he would run into.
If Quinn or Samantha showed up, there was no way he would pull the trigger. Part of him even wanted that to happen—he wanted one of them to kill him, to end this confusion. Maybe if he died here, he’d be pulled back to the time ship and be done with all of this.
Somehow he doubted that, though, so instead he decided to press forward. At least survive this, figure out where to go from there, and how to get back to his own time.
As far as he was concerned, entering the time ship had been a horrible mistake. Whatever the hell was happening here, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how it was going to change a d
amn thing.
He just needed to survive. Then he could worry about how to escape.
When his next attacker arrived, Giovanni reacted quickly, in spite of the confusion and conflicting emotions tearing him apart. He was trained, and it was time to let the training take over. A quick tug and he had pulled the Ka-bar knife Milo had on him, then lunged and jammed it up into the man’s throat. Next, he spun to shoot down a woman and two men who charged into the clearing.
Shots sounded nearby and two more bodies fell, then Luke appeared, eyeing it all, and nodded.
“Wasn’t sure you had it in you.” He nodded in the direction away from the mountain, and they ran side by side until they came to a halt behind a clumping of rocks.
“What’d you mean?” Giovanni asked.
“Huh?” Luke’s eyes were searching in the night.
“About me having it in me. What are you saying?”
Luke turned and frowned. “You…your friends. I didn’t think you’d be able pull the trigger, but you were right. Nothing’s going to stand between us. Not now, not ever.”
Giovanni felt his mouth go dry. So he was friends with Milo and the others in this timeline. Holy shit. He shook his head, trying to push those thoughts away. None of it would matter, not once he managed to escape, to get home. Rather…if he managed. But thoughts like that didn’t help anyone, he reminded himself.
“The attack is coming from there,” Luke said, pointing out to a series of jeeps just visible in the night. “We can take them out, then get back to the mountain to see the rest of them wiped off the face of Earth. You with me?”
Giovanni nodded. “Always.”
“Damn straight.” With that, Luke leaped up and ran. He reached the next set of trees, and then hid behind one as Giovanni caught up. Luke motioned toward the rear of the procession of jeeps. “Their command is likely back there. Get in, get it done, get out.”
A whirring sounded from the skies and Giovanni spun to see drones approaching.
“Shit!” he pushed himself up against a tree, noticing a look of confusion from Luke before the man turned and ran for the jeeps.
Giovanni wasn’t sure what to make of that look, but he knew he needed to get the hell out of there before the drones spotted him.
“Mechs will follow soon,” Luke said as Giovanni came up to the back of the last jeep with him. “What do you say we get this done before they arrive?”
“I’d say that sounds like a damn good plan.”
Giovanni nodded, then pointed ahead to the silhouette of a man and women at the other end of the line of jeeps. “Stay low and out of sight, and we got this.”
They crept forward, rifles at the ready.
“Those Syndicate sons of bitches,” one of the two was saying, screaming into a comms device, “I want every one of their nuts stuck onto my jeep’s antenna, I want their tongues carved out and nailed to the back of the jeep like a just married celebration, you don’t get in there and finish this, holy damn I will—”
His words were cut off by another dark form appearing on the far side of them, slicing his throat just as Luke lunged and took down the other.
The two met in a quick embrace, then Luke turned to Giovanni with a wide smile, his expression like that of a child who has just won a grand prize at the local carnival.
“We got him,” Luke said, and for a second Giovanni wondered about whom he was referring to.
Then the other figure stepped forward and said, “I hope it was worth it,” giving Giovanni a skeptical glance. “All of this, I mean.”
General Aames… Giovanni stared at the man, gave a barely perceptible shake of his head, and took a step back. No way was this happening. Luke and General Aames, working together.
“Get the mechs in here to clean up the rest of those bastards,” Luke said. “We’re getting suited up.”
General Aames nodded, and only then did Giovanni notice he wore the red armor of the Syndicate.
“I’ve got your armor and an extra for lover boy here,” General Aames said. “Just hurry up in case they come back this way.”
“They retreat, we mow them down,” Luke replied already moving off in the direction General Aames had indicated. Giovanni followed, and they came out to a clearing where a small Syndicate glider had landed.
Boarding the glider, Luke tore off his clothes, revealing the body Giovanni had looked on so many times with passion, but now was just one more part of an alternate version of this man, a version he was starting to understand he should hate.
Drones were firing down on the jungle, and then the first mech appeared on the mountain, coming out of an opening in the rocks, followed by more. Shouts sounded in the jungle, and then the real fight began. Or rather, slaughter.
“Get dressed,” Luke commanded, nodding to a set of armor beside him. “I’d rather be part of this than a casual observer.”
Giovanni found his voice harsh when he finally managed his accusation. “You’re with the Syndicate.”
Luke smiled, though confusion showed in his eyes. “A General, as you may recall. What the hell’s this about?”
A General in the Syndicate forces? Giovanni rubbed his temples, trying to process this.
“And I just betrayed…what? The resistance? My friends and everyone fighting against the Syndicate so that we could be together?”
“That was the plan.” Luke’s eyes flicked over to his blaster on the wall, then back to Giovanni. “It was the only way, but…if you’re having second thoughts…?”
The breaths coming in short bursts seemed to catch in the back of Giovanni’s throat, but he forced them out. His tongue brushed against his suddenly dry lips, his hands shaking.
“How?” he managed to blurt out. “How could you be doing this?”
“A chance of survival! It’s us or them, those who choose to be on the winning side, and those who would fight for no reason, die for no reason, other than to proclaim a false sense of freedom. Fuck that, I choose life.”
Giovanni stared at his friend, his lover…or, rather, the alternate timeline Luke that was neither of those things. Not like this.
“I can’t let you do this,” Giovanni said, lunging for the fusion rifle on the wall and taking aim.
Luke laughed. “Stop playing around. This isn’t funny.”
“It really isn’t,” Giovanni replied, and then pulled the trigger. The rifle exploded in his hands, sending him flying back to slam into the opposite wall of the glider. Damn, that hurt.
He tried to recover, feeling searing burns on his hands and face, and screamed.
“What the FUCK have you done to me?” He turned on Luke, releasing all his confusion and newfound rage. “This isn’t you, this could never be you!”
“No?” Luke shoved him back against the wall again. “You think you have any idea who the hell I am? What I’ve been through these last four years since the invasion started? That day I first met you, when I saw you, I thought you were special. You ran, you escaped, but the Syndicate grabbed me as I ran after you. They forced me to become this, and I hated it. I fucking hated it. But you know what? After enough pain, enough convincing, I realized there was only one choice, adapt. Survive. And you know what? I now understand something you and your idiotic, pitiful friends never could. This whole fight is so much bigger than this, so much more important than your little squabble. I’m trying to make a change from the inside, while you sit here and whine about morals. Fuck you. Do you have any idea what I went through to rescue you tonight?”
“That’s what this all was?” Giovanni looked down at the black clothes, realizing it. “An undercover mission to get me out of there and onto your side?”
“As you agreed to,” Luke spat back. “You weren’t all holier than me just yesterday, when you poisoned that bitch Quinn so you could escape. You did, didn’t you? Oh shit, don’t tell me you bailed on that too. Don’t you dare.”
Giovanni was in too much pain to fully process everything that had just come at him,
but he hoped to god none of it was true. He didn’t care what time line he was in, no version of himself would ever do that.
Screw love. Screw lust, or whatever these alternate versions of him and Luke felt. None of that was more important than loyalty, friendship, and humanity.
“This is…wrong.” He tried to sit, but it hurt too much and he screamed out instead. “DAMMIT! THIS IS ALL WRONG!”
“No…you are wrong.” Luke slowly bent, picked up the rifle, and when he looked at Giovanni, his eyes glistened with tears. “You are the wrong Gio. Not my Gio.” He shook his head, slowly. “No matter how many times you all try this, I win. This is the version of me that’s coming out of this time shit. With…or without you.”
“You…know?”
“Of course I know!” Luke screamed. “I know something’s going on anyway, though the Potentate doesn’t give me the full picture. And I know that if I’m loyal, he’ll find a way to get me the version of you I want. The version I deserve. Not this,” he gestured at Giovanni with disgust, “piece of shit that you’ve become.”
That look in his eyes hurt more than any wound ever possibly could.
Giovanni stared at that blaster rifle, waiting for the hit to come. For it all to end. Maybe it was even better this way? Less pain. Less confusion.
But then he remembered what that meant for the others—for Quinn and Samantha, for Milo, for his Luke, waiting back in the other timeline, waiting for him to return.
No way in hell was he letting them down.
With a war-cry like a mother-fucking dragon, he shot forward, knocking the rifle aside. Two swift, burn-stinging punches to the nose and throat sent Luke reeling backwards, blood spurting out of his nose as he hacked for breath. Giovanni cursed at the pain in his hands but didn’t stop there. He figured the best part of him right now was his legs, since they weren’t burned. With a jump, he wrapped his forearms around the back of Luke’s head and brought him in for a knee to the face.
Then, as Luke fell to the ground, Giovanni came across with a kick to the side of his head, then another.