Awakened

by C. Steven Manley

  “I agree. Israel is definitely more suited to an urban environment. I think the DGRI’s failure lies in the fact that they’re hunting him as they would any other Necrophage. They think he’s on the hunt and are focusing on the population centers, campgrounds and the like. The only way that will work is if he’s not in control of himself. Since they haven’t found him, we have to assume he is in control and sticking to out of the way spots. It’s just a matter of time, though.”

  Erin nodded, but the tight lines of her jaw betrayed her displeasure.

  “It would help,” Warburton said, “if I could pull some of my Sentry resources off the search for you and put them toward looking for Israel. To do that, I need to let Stone know that you’re here. Is that acceptable?”

  Erin considered it, then said, “Fine. But tell that short shit to keep looking for Israel and to leave us alone. I’m not going anywhere unless you give me a reason.”

  Warburton agreed and made a call. “Stone,” she said. “You can shut down the Runaway search, it’s been resolved. I’ll give you the details later. Put everything into the other search.” She listened for a minute and then ended the call without saying goodbye. “As of now, every available resource I have is looking for Israel.”

  Erin nodded. “Runaway?” she asked.

  Warburton smiled a little. “Stone has a fondness for radio call signs. That’s the one he gave you when you vanished.”

  Erin grunted and turned her attention to the window again and the spot she was holding in her mind in case she needed to make a fast exit. They waited like that for what seemed like hours, Warburton working at her desk and Erin wandering the office, flipping through books without really reading them, brushing off Warburton’s attempts at conversation, and generally being bored. Eventually, Warburton offered to have some lunch brought in and Erin accepted, grateful for the change of pace.

  A young woman in black slacks and a crisp, white shirt came in with a cart containing coffee in a silver pot, iced tea in a crystal decanter, and a tray of assorted sandwiches cut into neat, crustless triangles. Fresh fruit finished off the meal. Warburton nodded her approval, then thanked and dismissed the server. After she rolled over and joined Erin by the couches, she invited the younger woman to partake.

  Warburton had finished one of her sandwiches when her phone rang. She answered it. “Yes, Mr. Stone?” She listened for a moment, then said, “You’re sure? This is confirmed?” Another pause. “All right, bring the chopper back and I’ll meet you at the pad with Runaway.” Again, she listened. “Yes, she’s with me. Quickly, Stone, get back here.”

  She hung up and said, “The DGRI have located Israel near the capital. They don’t have him in custody, but it won’t be long. I’m assuming you can’t just pop to where he is? You need line of sight?”

  “How the hell did you know that?” Erin snapped.

  “Please, Erin. You’ve been staring out that window for two hours like it was the light at the end of the tunnel. It wasn’t a huge leap.”

  “Okay,” Erin said. “Yeah, I need to see where I’m going.”

  Warburton smiled. “Have you ever ridden in a helicopter?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Why would I need to talk to you?” Israel said to Jordan Screed. “From what I see, talking isn’t your go-to option.” Israel took slow, careful steps to one side as he spoke, positioning himself so he could see both Jordan and Carmine. He could hear the cars on the nearby interstate and wondered if he could get to it if he needed to. The tang of blood and cordite filled his nostrils; one of them made his skin tingle. He ignored that and focused on the two men.

  Jordan looked down and said, “What? These guys? They don’t matter.”

  “They were people,” Israel said. “They mattered.”

  Jordan shook his head and waved one of the guns dismissively. “You’re new to this whole Awakened thing so I can see why you’d think that. Besides, do you have any idea what the guys these grunts work for are planning for you? Israel, my friend, it would have been a full on dissection. Even among Awakened, you’re unique. There isn’t a government on Earth that wouldn’t want to know what makes you tick.”

  “Oh, so we’re friends now. You said we met in Chicago. Why is it that I don’t remember that?” Israel scanned the parking lot, checking for the best route away from the brothers.

  “Well, see, that’s the thing. We sort of crashed your celebration at that bar. Well, technically, I guess I did. Carmine’s not really what you’d call a ‘people person’. Anyway, I joined you and your buddies- great group, by the way -and I slipped a little something into one of your Vodka Collins. A little something to make you more compliant.”

  Israel’s eyes slowed their scan of the parking lot and came to rest on Jordan. “You drugged me? You’re the one who took me to California? To the place where… this… happened?” He made a sharp gesture at himself.

  “No, I drugged you and took you to a Progeny transport plane at O’Hare International. I had no idea where you were headed after that. We’re strictly acquisitions agents.”

  “You’re a god-damned kidnapper! Do you have any idea what happened to me?”

  Jordan half-smiled. “Oh, yeah. I know. We,” he gestured toward Carmine, “know.”

  Israel thought about what he’d just seen. He saw the crushed men at Carmine’s feet and the three at Jordan’s, all with two identical and perfectly placed bullet holed in their foreheads. “Paragons. You’re Paragons,” he said.

  “Good, they told you about that. Yeah, we are. We’re like you- three of a kind. This is really kind of historic when you think about it.”

  “Jordan,” Carmine said. “We’re on the clock.”

  “Right, we are. I tend to ramble. Bottom line, long story short, Israel, we need you to come with us. Our car’s out front.”

  “Excuse me?” Israel said.

  “Hey, look,” Jordan said. “Left to me, I’d just as soon tranq you and avoid all awkward conversations. Thing is, drugs only work on people with a pulse. No offense intended.”

  “Oh, none taken,” Israel said with a relaxed smile and clenched fists. “Why the hell do I need to come with you? You work for the guys who were planning to cut me open in the first place.”

  “The Seer wants to see you,” Carmine said.

  Jordan’s face flushed and he said, “Dammit, Carmine! You want to just give him the address while you’re at it?”

  Carmine shrugged. “What’s it matter if he knows about The Seer? We’ve got him, he’s coming with us no matter what.”

  “The hell I am,” Israel said.

  The smile on Carmine’s face came up like a black sun rising. “I’m so fucking glad you said that.” The big man took a step toward Israel.

  “Carmine!” Jordan shouted. “No time for that, little brother.” Jordan leveled his pistols at Israel. “Be reasonable, Israel. This doesn’t have to hurt. Our employer can offer you some amazing things. There’s a new world coming and we can be its kings.”

  Israel waved a finger at Jordan. “No, no, no. I saw what your employer had to offer people in Oceanside; I’ll pass. As for your guns, put them away. You know they won’t stop me. Besides that, I recently realized why people keep coming at me with tasers. Bullets leave messes and the messes my body leaves behind could really be a problem if they get into the wrong place. You know, like the water table. Or maybe a stray dog.”

  Jordan held his position for just a second and then his hands flashed to the small of his back and the pistols were gone, holstered somewhere Israel couldn’t see. It happened so fast he had barely seen the man move.

  “You’re right,” Jordan said. “I should use a taser.” Lightening quick, he rolled forward and came up running toward Israel’s left with a dead DGRI agent’s taser in each hand. From his right, Israel heard Carmine rushing toward him with a growl of feral joy and blood-lust.

  Fortunately, Israel was a lot faster than he used to be as well. He sprinted forward as th
ey came toward him and heard the pop an sizzle of one of the tasers discharging but missing him completely. He cut hard to the right and heard the second one pop off, followed closely by a frustrated scream from Jordan as the steel darts hit empty air. Israel knew the weapons only fired once before needing to be reloaded, but there were three more loaded on the ground and no telling how many spare cartridges on the dead agents. It was time to go.

  The old smokestack loomed up in front of him and Israel could see a route past it and back onto Martin Luther King Drive. He veered toward it and poured on the speed. A flying shadow suddenly grew on his right and something hit him hard enough to knock him from his feet and pile him up at the base of the smokestack.

  He got his feet under him almost as soon as he hit the ground and saw the projectile that had taken him down. It was one of the slain DGRI agents, his head a flat mass of leaking fluids. Israel looked up and saw Carmine rushing toward him and realized that the tattooed bastard had actually thrown a dead man at him.

  Israel Trent had never been a fighter. He’d grown up in a very average, middle-class neighborhood. It hadn’t been the best, but it had also been a long way from the worst. With the exception of some shoving matches on the basketball court, he’d always managed to think or talk his way out of any trouble he found himself in.

  Something about these men, though, and the way they so casually disregarded other people triggered something inside him. He glared up at the onrushing Carmine with anger bubbling through him like poison. He could have kept running for the street. Instead, he surged from his kneeling position and met the larger man at a full run.

  They collided like a pair of NFL linemen. Carmine was larger, but seemed shocked at Israel’s sudden assault and was unprepared when they impacted. Israel hit him low and rose up with a mighty push at the last second, just as he had back in the field outside Silversky, and sent the big man flying. Carmine rolled through the air and hit the windshield of the damaged SUV face first. The weight of his big body finished off the reinforced glass and shoved it and him into the vehicle’s cockpit. The big man struggled to right himself and get out of the car.

  A flash of movement caught his eye and Israel sidestepped quickly as Jordan snatched up another taser and fired it. Israel was fast, but one of the steel darts managed to stick in his shoulder. Fortunately, without the second dart to complete the circuit, there was no effect. Israel ripped it from his shoulder as he rushed the smaller Screed brother.

  Israel was on him in a second. He tried to grab the smaller man, but instead just hugged empty space. Three quick impacts registered on his right side. He backhanded that direction and, again, connected with nothing. Jordan rolled in front of him and leapt straight up over Israel’s head with his knees pulled to his chest. As he flew directly over Israel’s head, Jordan extended both legs down hard and used Israel’s shoulders as a fleshy springboard to launch himself into a double forward flip. He landed in a crouch a few feet away and looked back at Israel, a smug grin on his face.

  The impact had definitely dislocated Israel’s left shoulder because he could feel the disconnection in the joint and that arm wasn’t moving correctly. There was no pain, though, and Israel took great pleasure in watching the smug expression on Jordan’s face fall away when he realized Israel wasn’t crumpled to the asphalt like he’d expected. He took advantage of the kneeling man’s momentary confusion and stepped forward, kicking out at his head as hard as he could manage. Jordan flinched away, but the blow still partially connected and was hard enough to snap his head backwards.

  Israel was about to kick him a few more times just to make sure he stayed down when he heard metal snap and tear behind him. He spun and saw Carmine stepping out of the car. He’d ripped the car door from its hinges and was holding it like a giant mangled Frisbee. Carmine stalked forward and said, “Zombie motherfucker! Let’s see how tough you are when I tear your head off!”

  Israel reached over with his right hand, grabbed his left bicep, and shoved his shoulder back into place with a dull, wet pop. He extended his restored left hand with a gesturing motion and said, “Come and get it, bitch.” He really hoped he sounded tough.

  The car door spun through the air toward Israel’s head. He’d expected that, though, and ducked under it. Israel and Carmine rushed toward each other, but, this time, the larger man didn’t just come charging in. Just as they came into striking range, Carmine took a slightly angled step to the left with his right elbow extended. The hard joint caught Israel across the nose and then again in the muscles at the base of his neck when Carmine snapped it up and back down again hard enough to dent steel. Israel’s sunglasses clattered to the asphalt and the world was once more too bright.

  Again, there was no pain, but the sheer force of the blow sent Israel staggering past Carmine. He spun back to face his attacker and found him right in front of him. Carmine’s fist lashed out and smashed into Israel’s face, staggering him again. He felt another blow and another, each one fracturing bone and pushing him farther backwards. He needed room to move and a second to think. Israel took a fast step forward and shoved hard at Carmine, pushing the larger man backwards.

  Israel had one move that he knew. He’d learned it from one of his cop friends at a housewarming party years ago and he hoped he could pull it off now. Carmine came forward again. His right fist lashed out toward Israel’s face.

  Israel took a forty-five degree step to his left while simultaneously using his right arm to deflect Carmine’s blow down. Israel then brought his own right fist up as fast and as hard as he could underneath Carmine’s jaw. The blow connected perfectly and lifted the big man two feet into the air and deposited him onto the asphalt flat on his back. Blood streamed from his lips and nose.

  Israel could smell it, almost taste it. His skin crawled with the hunger, like ants burrowing through every inch of his body. A low, throaty growl escaped him as the hunger came over him. He backed away from Carmine, away from the sweet scents of blood and warm flesh.

  Carmine had shaken off the blow and was rising to his feet. He touched his face and then stared wide-eyed at his bloody palm. “I’m bleeding,” he said, though it sounded like he was talking with a golf ball in his mouth. “You made me bleed!”

  The blood seemed to call to Israel. “Get away from me,” he said in voice he didn’t quite recognize.

  “I’m going to tear-”

  Israel didn’t hear the rest. There was a popping sound and his body suddenly spasmed all over. For the first time in a day or more, he felt pain- hot, intense, unrelenting. It vibrated through him with an electric sizzle and he crumpled to the ground. Through a twitching haze, he saw Jordan standing a few feet away with two thin wires trailing back to the taser in his hand.

  He couldn’t move. He could barely hear or see. Carmine walked toward him with a piece of metal. It looked like something torn from one of the cars. Jordan stopped him, and said something about bringing Israel in. Carmine wanted to take his head off, though, destroy him. That would destroy him.

  Israel struggled to get his muscles under control. The hunger seemed weaker now but was still there, waiting to take over. He tried to sit up, made it a small ways, but it was no use. Suddenly, Carmine was standing over him with a long length of metal in his hand. It looked heavy enough to crush his head to pulp.

  “Roast in Hell, you undead fuck,” Carmine said, raising the weapon high.

  Then he simply wasn’t there anymore. The space where he’d been was instantly filled with glaring sunlight and a somewhat petite, female-shaped silhouette. Distant sirens wailed.

  “You,” Erin Simms said, “look like shit.”

  Israel let her help him up. The hunger was aching in him and he took a quick step away from her. “Where did you come from?” he asked.

  “Long story,” she said. “I’ll fill you in later. Seriously, man, you don’t look good. You’re kinda… gray.”

  Israel ignored her. “Where’s the guy who was on me?”

&nb
sp; Erin smiled. “Wait for it…”

  As if on cue, Israel heard a faint, persistent scream. As it grew louder, he realized it was coming from overhead. He looked up in time to see Carmine falling through the air just before he hit the hood of the undamaged SUV. The tattooed man bounced off the truck and landed face-down on the asphalt. He didn’t move after that. A second later, a long, heavy piece of metal clattered to the ground behind him.

  Despite the hunger gnawing at him, Israel stared wide-eyed at Erin.

  “Yeah,” she said. “It’s kind of like that now.”

  He was about to bombard her with questions when she suddenly bent down and picked something up. She held out a cell phone that was covered in a thick, protective case. “Is this yours?”

  Israel shook his head. “Could be his. Hang on to it.”

  Erin slipped it into a pocket. “Clues and shit?”

  Israel nodded. The sirens were getting closer. He could hear the rapid chopping of a helicopter just beneath the interstate sounds. “Authorities are coming.We need to go.”

  Erin looked around and said, “Are you sure? I don’t hear-”

  “I’m sure,” Israel interrupted. “I can hear a lot better than I used to. We need to get gone.”

  “About that,” Erin said. “I want to try something. I just don’t know if it will work, but I think it might. Maybe.”

  “Is this really the time?”

  “Oh, hell yes. The DGRI is full-on coming for our asses. I caught a ride with Stone and his goons as far as the first roof they could drop me off on, so they’re on the way, too, but I’d rather you and me have a talk before we deal with them. This is the perfect time.” She extended her hand to him and said, “I need you to trust me, Izzy.”

  His body ached with hunger. The scent of her flesh was like an early morning bakery to a starving man. Israel tightened his resolve and pushed the hunger aside. “Not a problem,” he said, taking her hand.