The Omega Archives

by Erik Melendez

  The weapons cache had an abundance of weapons, from pistols to rifles to anti-personnel weapons. I took a mini gun with mount, a light machine gun, some grenades, remote explosives, and a sniper rifle. I then went back into the safe house to get a large piece of paper, some writing utensils, and other materials I needed. As I searched, I found more things that could help me, like tin cans, iron pipes, and string. I could use those to make mines and other traps. I gathered up the rest of the supplies I needed and went to the forest.

  Once I got to the forest, I scouted it by first walking through the area trying to find good places to plant traps and vantage points. I observed everything carefully from the terrain, how flat the forest was, and to the trees and other plants. Once that was done, I pulled out the giant piece of paper and began to plan how the enemy would likely approach. Luckily, I have seen hundreds of tactical formations and strategies, so this was almost second nature for me. Using deduction, I was able to predict the enemy’s moves.

  I started with possible formations based on how many forces they had, what kind of weapons they had, what kind of training they had, and their level of moral. Then, I went to the more micro details, from the physical and mental condition of the enemy to what kind of boots they had. From there, I was able to put together a plan of attack. By doing this, I could predict their movements with ninety percent accuracy, with the remaining ten percent being something like an enemy dodging a falling tree stump. It was like putting together a puzzle, gather all the pieces of information, and then putting it all together.

  Not to mention reading all those books in the library helped me a lot. The plan was to set up three defensive positions where I could retreat to. I would have to mix up the pattern of the defensive positions in order to throw the enemy off. As they advance toward my position, I would retreat to these other positions to hold the enemy off. I would also plant a series of traps throughout the forest to take out the enemy forces. However, I would need to set a path that only I knew, so when I retreated, I would not run the risk of setting off one of my own traps. The path would also not have any kind of pattern that they could recognize.

  For the next five hours, I planted traps and set up the three defensive positions to hold off the enemy forces. Thankfully, I had been thoroughly trained in unconventional warfare, which allowed me to conduct guerrilla warfare against the enemy as well as improvised munitions, to make improvised weapons like mines and mortars. Again, this was all second nature to me. For example, I needed a tin can, string, and a grenade to make a mine.

  All that I needed to do was set up at a point where if someone were to trip the wire, it would detonate. I set up a large variety of traps like pits with stakes in them, improvised mines, and even falling tree stumps. Once I finished setting everything up, I lit up a large fire to attract their attention with the smoke and awaited the arrival of the enemy forces.

  Morning had arrived. Mikhail’s men were rapidly heading toward my position. They were well armed with assault rifles, light machine guns, rocket launchers and other heavy equipment. They were in a squad column, meaning that some men took point, while others followed behind to provide cover fire. They were followed by three tanks, four pick-up-looking trucks with mounted machine guns on the back, and two gunships. I used my sniper scope to see what the enemy soldiers were doing. They proceeded into the forest to find me. One of the troops fell into the first trap: a pit with stakes in the bottom.

  The next trap was a giant tree trunk falling and smashing into some more soldiers. More and more traps went off, and I opened fire with my sniper rifle killing the troops that followed behind to provide cover for the advancing troops. Five more guys advanced onto my position from the right, trying to flank me, but tripped the mortar mine, which launched with various debris (like nails) into the soldiers and killed them. As the traps went off, and the soldiers were firing their weapons, parts of the forest were being torn up by the bullets and explosions. Trees and plants being reduced to bits and pieces, leaving gaping holes in the ground from the explosions. As more men advanced onto my position, more of my traps went off, killing most of the guys. One of the trucks approached my position, but luckily, I killed the driver and the gunner before running out of ammo for my rifle.

  Once I ran out, I quickly retreated to the next defensive point with one of the tanks behind me. As I ran, I heard nothing but gunfire and explosions blowing up trees and creating craters in the ground. I was lucky I did not get hit once. Once I got into position, I mounted the mini gun and killed more men as they approached. The mini gun tore through the troops as well as more forest plants in its way. The tank approached and fired its cannon, but luckily, I jumped out of the way before the tank shell hit and destroyed the mounted mini gun. As I got up, I got shot on the left side of my body, just below the ribcage, by one of the soldiers with his light machine gun. I took cover behind a tree.

  The wound gushed blood, and it felt like someone drove a spike into my side. I placed my hand over the wound to put pressure on to stop the bleeding, but the bullet was still inside. My healing factor could push the bullet out and heal the wound, but I needed time for it to work. The tank fired its cannon again and missed. I threw out some smoke grenades and rushed to the tank while dodging loads of gunfire.

  When I approached the tank, I took out the gunner, threw a grenade into the cockpit, and commandeered the tank. I used the tank to take out the other two tanks, two of the trucks, and one of the choppers. Using my enhanced senses, I could detect where the other vehicles were, allowing me to take them out. When the smoke cleared out, the other chopper caught up and blew the tank up, but luckily, I got out in the nick of time. Then, two choppers carrying reinforcements came in.

  There were ten soldiers in each chopper, leaving me with twenty more problems to deal with. I then proceed to the final defensive point that I set up. My healing factor started to heal the wound, but I would have to stop and rest for it to heal faster. But I had no choice; I had to keep moving. When I reached the last point, I picked up the light machine gun and the detonator I had placed there and waited for the next wave of troops.

  As they approached, I detonated the bombs, killing some of them, and proceeded to take out the rest with my machine gun.

  A barrage of Gunfire blasted in front of me, and I could barely hear myself think because it was so loud. One of the soldiers fired his rocket launcher at me, but I quickly dodged it and shot the guy with the last of my machine gun ammo. The last truck came up and laid down fire to the point that I could barely move. As the chaos continued, I got a call on my radio.

  “Connors, be advised. We’re in your area. ETA ten minutes,” the advisor said.

  “Where?” I shouted.

  “South of your position,” he said.

  “But, that’s where all the enemy personnel are coming from!” I replied.

  “Understood, but it’s the only clear place we have to land,” he said.

  “Fine, I’m on it!” I said.

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. The wound still did not fully healed up yet. So, I got up and pushed forward by first throwing a couple of flashbang grenades to blind the troops. I took out some men and used my weapons grenade launcher to take out the truck. I used one of the guy’s rocket launchers to take out the chopper. I ran as fast as I could to the extraction point where the chopper would meet me with shooting erupting behind me nonstop.

  My hand still covered my wound where blood gushed out, the stabbing sensation growing stronger. As I ran down the hill, I got shot in the leg. I took cover behind a tree and shot some more guys. I tried applying pressure to the leg wound, but the bullet went through, making it difficult to heal without my healing factor kicking in or proper medical attention. The wound still bled. So I took off my glove and elbow pad, ripped a portion of my sleeve off, and made a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.

  I got up and limped my way down as fast as I could. I fell down a couple of times as I ran down the hill. Blood continued to
pour out. When I fell, I felt like passing out. Still, I got up and limped down the hill. When I reached the extraction zone, the chopper still did not arrive.

  “Where are you?” I yelled.

  “We’re almost there. Just one minute,” he said.

  I turned around and saw the rest of the enemy soldiers coming in.

  “Hurry up!” I shouted as the rest of the soldiers began to open fire.

  I took up a defensive position behind some crates and opened fire on the soldiers. All I could do is keep shooting at the soldiers, hoping I would not get shot again. I kept shooting at the men constantly, only stopping to reload. I got so focused on killing the other soldiers that before I knew it, all of the soldiers were dead. I moved out a few feet to make sure that there were no more soldiers. I kept my rifle pointed towards the woods still on edge.

  My heart pounded, and my head soaked in sweat. It felt like all the fighting had built up the adrenaline in my body and it didn’t know what to do with the rest. The chopper arrived with Jack and four US marines on board.

  “Are you okay?” Jack asked.

  “I need to rest for a minute,” I said as I put my hand on my wound.

  Jack looked at the wound.

  “Are you going to be okay?” he asked

  “I just need to rest so my wound can heal,” I said.

  I walked toward the chopper while Jack took a few steps toward the woods to observe the destruction.

  “Jeez, Alex. Did you leave any for us?” he asked.

  “Destroyed vehicles and corpses,” I replied.

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here,” he replied as we got into the chopper and got out of there.

  While I sat on the chopper, my wounds were starting to fully heal. I removed the tourniquet on my leg to find the wound slowly healing up.

  “Did you find Mikhail?” he asked.

  “Negative. He got away. He shot me with some kind of tranquilizer.”

  “Must have been strong stuff to knock you out.”

  “Yeah. It must have been heavily modified. I still can’t believe he got away.”

  “Man, Mathis is going to be pissed.”

  “Yeah, at this point, we will be getting a promotion,” I said sarcastically.

  When we arrived at base, we were debriefed by Mathis.

  “So, let me get this straight. That asshole shot you with some kind of super tranquilizer, got away, and sent a small army to kill you. Is that about right?” he asked.

  “Yeah, that’s about right,” I replied.

  “This guy is really full of surprises. I told you that you weren’t ready to take on missions alone, but you wouldn’t listen, would you?” he asked as he stood up from his desk.

  “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll be careful next time,” I said.

  “I hope so because I don’t want to be the one telling your parents that you were killed in action. Not to mention I spent over an hour on the phone with the UN trying to explain how I sent a fifteen-year old into a hot zone while also not getting my ass fired and/or put in jail! Do you have anything else to report?” he asked.

  “Mikhail said that when the Union attacked and destroyed the Omega Project, they did more than what I knew. I think we should bring him in,” I said.

  “If you can, we can try it,” he said.

  After I talked to Mathis, I turned around and went home. Getting Mikhail would be the least of my worries now. I had to go back home and take on another dangerous task returning to square one on how to fit in at high school.

  When I got home, my parents were sitting on the couch waiting for me. My mother had her arms crossed. When she saw me, she scowled.

  “Sit down, Alex,” Mom said.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked as I sat on the loveseat across from the couch.

  “We called Max’s parents, and they said that you were not there, nor did you ever show up. We also asked if you ever went over to stay the night, and she said no,” Dad said.

  “Where were you going?” Mom asked.

  “Out,” I replied.

  “Out where?” Dad asked.

  “Just out,” I replied.

  Mom leaned in.

  “Did you join that organization behind our backs?” Mom asked point-blank.

  “No!” I replied.

  “Alex! Tell the truth!” Dad said.

  I took a deep breath and rubbed my hands on my forehead.

  “Okay, fine. I joined the STR,” I said with a sigh.

  “After I specifically told you not to!” Mom said.

  “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that these guys may be able to help me learn about what happened to the Omega Project,” I replied.

  “It doesn’t matter. We worked our asses off to get you away from that life, and now you want to go back?” Dad asked, his voice raising.

  “That’s not the point. I didn’t want to go back either, but I didn’t have a choice. If I said no, the Union would keep coming after me and possibly even after you guys. Besides, they killed everyone involved in the Omega Project, and I wanted to go after them. Not to mention I overheard you and Mom talking about you possibly getting laid off. So, I thought we could use the money,” I said.

  “Look, I know you want to go after the people who destroyed the project you came from, and we appreciate you wanting to help out with money. But you need to focus on fitting into society, and this is not helping,” Mom said.

  “We know you mean well, and you want to go after these guys for what they did, but we don’t want you to get killed. We don’t need you to be the main bread winner. So, all three of us are going to the headquarters of where you work, and you will quit,” Dad said.

  “But that’s not fair!” I replied as I stood up.

  “Well, too bad. It wasn’t fair when you lied to us!” Dad said.

  I stormed off into my room and slammed the door. I kicked my dresser and threw myself onto my bed. Now I may never know what happened to the Omega Project, and I would be stuck with a huge void in my life. I spent most of the night just lying on my bed, thinking about what to do next.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  When I returned to school the following day, it felt like the first week again. I was still sitting alone at lunch, just daydreaming about all the battles I went through while I pushed my food around with my fork, barely eating anything. The fighting just ran through my mind non-stop.

  During my classes, I still thought about the fighting. The teachers would lecture while I stared off in the distance. I would even sometimes doodle pictures of the fighting in my notebooks.

  Sometimes before, and even after school, I would sit in the bleachers outside just thinking to myself. I could feel the cool breeze hitting my face like it did in Quetta. I had become obsessed with war, and it got to the point where war was all I could think about. As I sat there, I felt completely disconnected from everything and everyone. I had wished that I stayed with the other Omega Project kids instead of sneaking out of the vent. I felt like I should have died with them.

  At home, I would just sit in my room, still thinking about all the fighting. Sometimes I would not do my homework, study, or do anything entertaining. The fighting felt like a drug, and I became addicted to it, and without it, I could not function. My friends would leave me text messages that read:

  “Hey, Alex. It’s Sarah. We’re really starting to worry about you. Give us a call or something.”

  “Hey, Alex. Max here. We need to talk. Give me a call.”

  During dinner, I would say very little to nothing while my parents would talk on about their days. I just ate and left the table to continue to ponder.

  The following night, I had a nightmare about some of my missions. I could see the soldiers being torn apart by the bio-weapon creatures, the near endless soldiers coming at me in Venezuela. I could hear all the screaming, gunshots, and explosions. When I woke up, my bed was soaked with sweat, and I felt out of breath. I checked my clock on the nightstand, and it said 2:31. Too afraid t
o go back to sleep, I just lay there until morning.

  The next day at school, as I walked out of English, Mr. Bennet pulled me aside.

  “You didn’t turn your report in on time. It is a big part of your grade, you know,” he said.

  Due to the failure of the mission in Venezuela, I couldn’t finish the report on time, so I got an F on it. I approached him and explained.

  “Look, I had some things to do over the weekend. I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to bring my grade up?” I asked.

  Mr. Bennet walked away from his desk toward me.

  “Look, I can make you a deal. I will give you some extra credit that will make up for a portion of the report. You won’t get a perfect A in this class, but it will be enough for you to pass, but it will be due by the end of the semester.”

  “What do you want me to do for it?” I asked.

  “I want you to do an essay on any book you want to do. Just show me the book before you get started.”

  “Sure. Thank you,” I said as I walked out of class.

  After math class, the teacher pulled me aside after class to talk too.

  “Connors, wait a moment,” he said before I could walk out.

  I walked toward his desk while he sat there with my test in his hand.

  “On the last test, you got a D. Normally you ace all the tests, no matter how difficult. Is everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just that I have been having some difficulties lately,” I replied.

  “What kind of difficulties?” he asked.

  “Just difficulties,” I replied, gripping my backpack strap and scratching my hair.

  “I have notified the school counselor about what’s going on. I would like for you to talk to him,” he said.

  “I suppose I could,” I replied.

  I left his class and went to the library after school to find a book. I found The Outsiders, a book about a group of kids who are rival to another group of kids. I read it, and I enjoyed it. I liked the idea of rival teen gangs fighting over territory. It was like a war in the streets. After I read it, I got straight to work on my report.