by SD Tanner
CHAPTER THIRTY:
Last Man Standing
(Granger)
“We can’t hold them back!”
The clock was ticking, only not fast enough. Navigators had worked out where they were, but not what they were doing. At first, he’d assumed they would break into the room, shutting down the transformation. Instead, they’d taken positions inside of the reception room by the broken and blocked door.
One of his group was crouched in front of the door, aiming his gun at the pile of furniture blocking it. “I don’t think they know we have a transformation in progress.”
“So?”
“They don’t know we can defend ourselves.”
Parker’s girlfriend was monitoring the transformation from behind the hooded desk. “He’s right. They can’t see in here. The equipment interferes with their visors.”
That was probably true, but he couldn’t see how that was going to help them. They still had to fight their way past an army of Navigators parked outside of their only way out.
A voice shouted between the gaps in the furniture piled into the doorway. “Get outta there! I’m not gonna tell you twice!”
Despite feeling like a scolded child, he knew they weren’t playing with him. They were trapped in a room and he couldn’t see how three newly transformed Bombardiers could save them. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” The Navigator asked in a disbelieving tone. “You broke in, not the other way around. Now, quit messing about and get out here.”
Of the twenty men who had broken into CaliTech with him, only twelve had made it into the transformation room. Two of them and Parker were inside of the chambers being transformed into Bombardiers. Crouched and aiming his weapon at the door, one of his men turned to look at him. “We’re not going out there are we?”
Glancing across to Parker’s girlfriend, he asked, “How much longer?”
The green light over the chambers began flashing, and the glass covering the round tubes was sinking into the floor. Parker stepped out of the chamber, unrecognizable as the man he was. Taller by at least a foot and wider too, his highly structured face was fixed as if it had been carved out of stone. Always well built, his body now rippled with ropey muscle as he walked naked into the middle of the room.
“Great ride,” he boomed in a voice that was now deeper and more gravelly.
His girlfriend was handing all three of the newly transformed Bombardiers loose fitting pants, clearly meant to accommodate their new size. While Parker tied the drawstring on his trousers, he waited in a crouched position by the door watching him. “We have a problem.”
“I can see that.”
“How are we going to get past them?”
“We’re not,” Parker replied, sounding relaxed.
His answer didn’t make any sense and he sighed with frustration. Parker had already turned away, dropping to his knees in front of the chamber he’d just left. Forming a fist, he began punching at the floor. It buckled under each blow, revealing a hollowed out base.
“There’s always more than one way out of a rat trap.”
The other two Bombardiers seemed to understand what Parker was doing, joining him to punch at the floor. With their added strength and exoskeletons, every blow was like a jackhammer. A widening hole was forming and they began tearing away the tiles.
Giving him a slow wink as she strolled past him, Parker’s girlfriend dropped to her haunches next to the hole. “The medical bay with the sleepers is under here.”
“Sleepers?”
“Yeah, they found them two hundred years ago. They’ve sort of been alive ever since.”
“How?”
“Nobody knows. They live inside of a goo left by the aliens.”
He’d never heard of these transformed people, but he didn’t care. If they took another way out then he needed to make sure they weren’t followed. “Have we got the explosives?”
Rising to his feet, one of his men clutched a filthy backpack in one hand. “Yeah, why?”
“We need to mine the door.”
Parker’s girlfriend shot him a surprised look. “Blowing that door could bring the whole building down.”
Her warning immediately made him wonder where they might be holding his son. “Do you know where they’d keep a young child?”
“What do you mean?”
“I brought my son here. He’s only two years old, but he was sick. Would he be in this building?”
Rising to her feet, she frowned, clearly sharing his concern. “I don’t know. The levels above us have patients, but...”
Parker was also on his feet, staring up at the ceiling as if he could see through it. “There’s a lot of equipment up there. I can’t see anyone small enough to be a child, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t here.”
“I only came here to get him or die trying.”
Lowering his head to stare at him, Parker’s fixed features seemed to crack when he broke into a wide grin. “You’re the most optimistic person I know.”
His heart sank, but he asked the next logical question. “Why?”
Dropping to his knees again, Parker waved at the men who were priming the explosives next to the door. “Time to go.”
Once each of them had been lowered to the floor below, he was the last of the humans to leave. As Parker held his hands while others caught his legs from below, he looked up. “You didn’t answer my question. Why am I an optimist?”
“Because you think we’re going get out of here alive.”
Ripping through the floor had damaged the lights in the room leaving it gloomy and flickering. Looking around the room, he saw the two creatures Parker’s girlfriend said had been alive for hundreds of years. Their bodies were oddly elongated, slightly transparent and motionless. Instinctively reaching out his hand to touch one, feeling a sliminess beneath his fingers, he jolted back when the creature’s eyes snapped open.
Parker landed heavily onto the floor. Grabbing him by the arm, he flicked his head. “Gotta go.”
“What kind of insane place is Dunk running here?”
Above his head was a loud and muffled bang followed by several smaller explosions. Dust fell from the hole in the floor and part of the ceiling sagged lower. He was being pulled now, dragged through a door into what had been a lit corridor. Now it was gloomy, flashing with a dull red light.
“What happened?”
Hustling the other renegades, the Bombardiers were pushing them along the corridor. From behind him came the sound of Parker’s new gravelly voice. “The explosion damaged the power, but they have backups so we’ve gotta move fast.”
“Where are we going?”
In the darkness, he couldn’t make out anything, but Parker seemed to know where he was headed. “Dunk was no ordinary nutter.”
A Bombardier was hammering open a door, breaking the security lock. Behind this door was a set of stairs. To his surprise, the Bombardiers were leading them downwards.
“Why down? Won’t we be trapped?”
Parker was still pushing him forward. “Guns upstairs and dead people below.”
Frustrated, he stopped, pushing back against Parker’s heavyset body. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Relax, will ya. The original Dunk is under this building, napping in a cryogenics chamber. He built himself a hidden exit. It was supposed to be hush hush and all that, but you can’t keep anything secret for hundreds of years.”
He might be crazy, but at least Parker wasn’t suicidal. A loud bang could be heard from the room they’d left, making Parker turn around. “Go. Go. Go.”
As he made his way down the concrete stairs, one of his newly made Bombardiers was making his way up. Realizing they planned to defend the door to the stairs, he looked up at Parker. “What about you?”
He never heard an answer. Parker and the two Bombardiers were firing along the corridor at whatever was coming for them. Parker’s girlfriend appeared at the bottom of the next set of st
airs, looking up at him. “Tell Parker to get down here. I can’t open the exit.”
“Parker! Get down here!”
Shouldering his gun, Parker pushed past him on the stairs. When he reached the grey windowless door, he began punching at the lock. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Parker’s girlfriend grabbed him by the arm, pulling him into the now open room. In the center was a large chamber surrounded by screens built into the walls. Two technicians had their back to several consoles.
Looking completely terrified, one of the technicians shook her head at him. “There’s no exit anymore. Dunk Two had it sealed.”
Parker had returned to top of the stairs. He and the two Bombardiers were retreating, stepping backwards while firing. He finally saw what was pursuing them. Five fully armored Navigators were making their way along the corridor, firing burners.
The female technician saw them at the same time as he did. Running towards the door to the room, she waved her arms. “No! Stop! You can’t fire weapons in here. You’ll compromise the chamber.”
Her order was met by gunfire and her body jerked as round after round hit her. The male technician watched on in horror, then ran towards her collapsed body. His attempt to save her was met by more gunfire. With his arms above his head, he fell forward only feet from the woman he’d clearly cared about.
Seeing the Navigators continuing to advance, he threw himself towards the large black chamber. “Take cover!”
Fumbling with his own gun, he opened fire. Bullets were thudding into the chamber, no doubt doing more than compromise it. While the Navigators continued firing, he and his remaining men crouched behind the large chamber. There were so many bullets, the screens on the walls were shattering, forming an echo of breaking glass across the room.
Parker and his two Bombardiers had run out ammunition. Throwing their guns aside, they lowered their heads, running at the Navigators.
“No!” Parker’s girlfriend cried.
Worried she might leap to her feet, he grabbed her arm. She flicked a look at him, dismay showing across her face. “They’re not cooked yet.”
“What?”
“They’re still half human.”
Peering over the edge of the chamber, the Bombardiers had knocked two of the Navigators to the ground. Blood was pouring from the gut of two of his Bombardiers, and Parker was tearing at the helmet of a Navigator left standing. Even bleeding heavily, his Bombardiers were still fighting with the Navigators, trying to wrestle them to the ground. The ones already down were firing at them, further ripping into their already damaged bodies. Hiding behind the chamber, hoping the Bombardiers would win the fight, he could see they were outnumbered and already losing.
Raising his gun to eye level, he began rising from his crouch. Seeing him move, his ten men stood with him. There came a time when a man had to fight his own wars, even if it was the last thing they ever did. In unison and without a word being said, they launched from behind the chamber, joining the Bombardiers. Skidding in the blood left by the technicians, he slid with his boot out, thudding into the heavily armored leg of a Navigator. His body followed his foot, colliding his hip into the leg. The impact was enough to make the Navigator take a step back. Above him, a bleeding Bombardier took advantage of the Navigator’s momentary loss of balance. Heaving into the armored body, they became a mass of tangled limbs, and he curled into a fetal position to avoid the bodies thumping onto the floor.
“Get their helmets off. Punch ‘em hard!”
It was Parker shouting above the growing sounds of grunting. Blood from the Bombardiers and technicians was making the floor slippery. His long barreled shotgun was no use at such close quarters. All he had left were his bare hands and a blade tucked into his belt. If he could get a helmet off a Navigator then he could stab the man inside of the armor. A Navigator was on his back with a Bombardier trying to pin his arms. Hydraulics were whining in the man’s knee as he tried to draw it up to stand. If he got a foot flat to the ground then he would rise like the mechanical killer he was. Grabbing at the Navigator’s belt, he dragged himself up his body, using his weight to block the knee from rising. The hydraulics whirred even louder, whining in protest. Reaching up to the man’s helmet, he pushed his fingers into an opening, pulling back sharply. He must have hit something and the robotic arms inside of the helmet slowly lifted it from the man’s face.
The eyes that looked back at him were human and wide. They were roughly the same age, forced to live on opposing sides of a world that should have been one. His blade was in his hand before he realized he’d reached for it. Using his other hand to push his body up, he raised the knife high, ready to plunge it into the young man’s eye socket. He had no beef with the guy, but he stood between him and his son. There was no contest.
Before he struck, the Navigator spoke. “Stop! We have new orders.”
CHAPTER THIRTY:
Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Dead
(Ark Three)
“Dammit, Tank.”
The Command Battleship was gracelessly dropping onto the landing pad. Casey’s eyes had been glued to a visor for the better part of an hour, so she’d missed their dive into the atmosphere.
“What’s he done now?”
Finally pulling the visor from her face, she turned in the command chair to look at him. “He’s less than a day behind us.”
Her reply didn’t surprise him and he pulled back, smirking as he did. “How’d he do that?”
“By being more savage than a critter,” she replied, her lips forming a thin line. “He broke through the net, bringing an entire army with him.” Clearly distracted, she muttered, “Just what kind of tech did you guys find?”
“It’s not just the tech. The navs aren’t battle ready.”
His cheeky observation made her look back at him. “Why do you say that?”
“You made them too comfortable. They don’t want to die and Tank does. It gives him quite the edge.”
Rising to her feet, she flicked her head towards the slit acting as a door. “We should go.”
It was only when he disembarked through the docking bay that he heard gunfire inside and outside of CaliTech’s walls. Glancing at Casey in surprise, he asked, “What’s going on?”
Gripping his arm firmly, she guided him across the lawn towards the main building. Next to the wall was a row of bodies, lying side-by-side and exposed to the warm rays of the sun. None was dressed in the tunic of a CaliTech worker or tracksuit of a Navigator. Looking down at each of the faces as Casey pushed him along, he realized they were renegades.
Pulling his arm from her grasp, he stopped. “What have you done?”
“I didn’t do anything. According to the report, renegades are attacking CaliTech. They’re sorting them out now.”
“Was Granger with them?”
“Who’s Granger?”
She should have known who the leader of the renegades was, but he supposed she might not. They’d never been considered a threat so no one had paid any attention to them or their plight. It was one more reason Dunk Two had to die.
Shoving down his anger, he flicked his head, indicating she should move. Using the tips of his fingers, he traced the three triggers at the base of his palm, itching to have Dunk Two in his sights. Whatever was going down at CaliTech, it would end once he killed him.
When the elevator doors opened at the top level of the main building, he and Casey stepped out. This had been his home for most of his life and Dunk Two was predictably sitting behind his desk. Looking up from a screen he was holding, he looked down again, finishing whatever he was doing. Finally satisfied, he stood, straightening his shirt.
“Arkansas, how nice to see you.”
Standing only ten feet from him, he cocked his head at the man he’d grown to hate. “Don’t play games.”
Spreading his arms with his palms facing upward, Dunk Two’s face took on a mock innocence. “What game am I playing? I merely greet you as one of our own.” Lowering his arms an
d smirking, he tilted his head. “I’m prepared to forgive and forget, but are you?”
“You forget nothing and neither do I.”
Shaking his head in mocking sorrow, he tutted. “That’s why your bloodline always dies.”
Dunk Two kept a row of Navigator armor against the back wall of his office, which was why he missed the trick. It was only when the Navigator moved that he realized one was alive. Fully loaded with a laser rifle, he moved out of the line of empty armored suits.
“You might want to move,” Dunk Two said to Casey in a casual tone.
Her eyes wide with shock, Casey turned to face Dunk Two. “But…”
Pushing his hands inside of his trouser pockets, Dunk Two turned and looked out of the window. All of this registered somewhere in his mind as he whirled, opening fire with the gun buried deep inside of his arm. He only had ten bullets and he’d need every single one of them to take down a fully armored and armed Navigator. Without waiting for an order, the Navigator opened fire, hitting him squarely in the gut. With no armor and only his exoskeleton, laser pulses were burning through him. Ignoring the pain, he launched across the room, throwing himself at the Navigator. They locked in a tight embrace. Now chest to chest, neither he nor the Navigator could use their guns.
Crashing against the row of armor, they fell to the ground. The sound of clashing metal followed their fall as the entire row collapsed. Equally matched in weight and strength, he held the Navigator tightly to his chest as they rolled one man over the other. He needed to free his weaponized arm. In one sharp motion, he found himself under the Navigator with his gun arm pinned beneath him. Allowing the Navigator the next roll, he was now above the man, but he couldn’t draw his elbow back to aim his gun. They rolled again; only this time he used the floor to push himself away from the Navigator’s tight grip. With his gun arm now free, he jammed it under the chin of his helmet, firing repeatedly. The body above him went limp. He rose to his feet knowing he’d killed a man who didn’t deserve to die.
The sound of slow clapping caught him by surprise. Dunk Two was applauding his efforts with a look of amusement. Standing next to him was another fully armored and armed Navigator. A laser rifle was pointed directly at his head. It would only take one pulse to penetrate his skull and the argument about who should lead the Guild would be over.