Kill Switch: Final Season

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Kill Switch: Final Season Page 16

by Sean E. Britten


  Eventually, ahead of them was a small hill covered in thick tangles of grass and weeds. A white church, its paint flaking and many stained glass windows busted, waited expectantly at the top of a hill in the middle of the section. A bell in its tall steeple glinted in the sun. The music wasn’t coming from the bell, however, but from something else inside the church.

  Homer fought through his indecision and grabbed Digger by the arm. Digger felt it from a million light years away, on the other side of a galaxy of bliss. With the skin-to-skin contact though, a hot, prickling sensation ran through his body and into his skull. It jabbed at his brain like needles, not painful but every bit as intrusive. The sensation brought Digger rushing back to Earth. He recoiled from Homer’s touch, bringing his gun up between them, but he was too confused to act. An invisible tentacle seemed to snap and recoil away from him.

  “What-, what the bloody hell was that?” Digger said.

  Digger’s memory of the last few minutes was a blur. Digger could remember the streets he’d walked on since the impulse took control but his reasoning, the feeling, was a fractured mess. Elation flipped to rage. Digger turned on the white, steepled church on the hill, bathed in sunlight.

  Snarling, Digger stepped away from Homer and fired off a short burst at the church. Bullets randomly pocked the walls as echoes of the shots split the air. It was a mistake, however, as moments later that psychic tether captured him again. The impulse wrapped him up so thoroughly, Digger instantly forgot his anger, his motivations and his name, and he started staggering forward again. Homer lunged and grabbed him, repeating the same performance. Homer and the unseen presence battled it out over Digger for a few moments. Digger, as he became aware of what was going on, felt like a chew toy being fought over by a couple of pitbulls.

  Feeling himself again, Digger retreated backward in fright. He was breathing hard and clutching his useless submachine gun. Homer watched the Australian expectantly. Gesturing with his hands, Digger directed Homer toward the corner of a nearby wall and they hid behind it with Digger crouching low in combat readiness.

  “Alright, like the thing-, whatever it is, it’s reacting to noise, am I right? It’s coming from the church, it’s-, it’s like you, it’s poking around in my head and making me do shit.” Digger said, “I heard back when I went looking for answers about what happened to me-, to my squad, I heard a rumour about these other kinds of Abomination. You know how Abominations were created, right? Biological weapons, diseases, turned millions of people into tumour-riddled mutants, freaks. Some it just turned to living mush. When that wasn’t enough, they got bombs dropped on them. Nukes that fried whole cities to finish the job. Or maybe that was meant to be mercy.”

  Digger was whispering, afraid to catch the thing in the church’s attention. Talking about what had happened to the other soldiers in his squad, whose murders he’d been hunted for, should have gotten his heart racing and started working him into a frenzy. His mind felt surprisingly clear for the moment.

  “That was what the Bio-Wars were all about of course, all that gene-tinkering and biological weaponization and shit taken too far. But the combos of biological weapons and nukes fused people together, hundreds of them, into giant monsters with all the pain and anger and hate of the people that’d been killed mashed up inside them.” Digger kept going, “Those’d be your regular, run-of-the-mill Abominations. What I heard though was that in at least one case there was this mental Abomination, an Abomination of the mind. When it got all fused together all their brains released like this-, massive psychic energy, like what you’ve got. But they stayed hidden, and no one knew about it. This show had one Abomination last season, nearly killed every single remaining contestant they had. What if they got a different kind for this season?”

  An engine noise and clattering came from the street. Another automated vehicle, a garbage truck, was moving toward Digger and Homer’s position. It was longer and bulkier than the streetsweeper Digger had shot, with a squat cabin and a mechanical arm that extended from the side. The arm’s pincer grabbed a long-empty trash can and lifted it, tipping it against a hole in the truck’s roof. Besides the fact the trash can was empty, the back of the automated truck was empty as well. Whatever had been left of the garbage inside it had dried up years ago. It was just going through the motions. Setting the bin down, the truck moved on until its sensors zeroed in on the next can.

  Digger checked the magazine on his UMP45 and loaded it back into the weapon. He was still wary of the other three teams in the area, even though they now had the thing in the church, whatever it was, to worry about. Digger glanced down at the two remaining needles on Homer’s hip.

  “Alright, mate, we’ll go for that weapon drop but keep it quiet as church mice so that thing doesn’t know what we’re doing. Maybe we’ll find something at the drop that can handle it, some more ammo as well.” Digger said, “You keep that magic juice handy in case I go off the deep end again and you need the boost to keep the fucking thing out of my head.”

  The two of them slipped back around the corner, into the street, but stayed close to walls and houses. They had only been moving quietly for a couple of minutes when there was movement from the church. The three teams that had landed originally in the Suburbia section circled around the church and started moving fast in Digger and Homer’s direction. Digger gestured and darted across the main road. The other six contestants disappeared behind some of the high-walled properties but were clearly moving as a group.

  “Bloody hell, so it turns out they’re not in there getting their brains eaten, damn.” Digger said, “We know they’re coming at least, no fucking ambush this time.”

  Digger was speaking and moving quietly but he picked up speed with Homer behind him. They kept moving toward the weapon drop. After them was Dr Klou and Echo Three, Talons and Martina Hart, and the hacker Juan Sanzeros with his partner Ludd. All three teams had at least one serious physical threat, and were all armed. Now it seemed obvious they were under the control of the thing in the church. It had kept them from killing each other and was now turning them on Digger and Homer like white blood cells attacking an invading virus. Digger’s mind felt strangely clean since Homer had flushed the presence that had tried to take him over.

  At the next intersection, two contestants sprinted toward the Australian and Homer. Juan Sanzeros and Ludd were still paired and moving together. They were some distance away but Digger could see the curiously blank expressions on their faces, no anger or fear or excitement, just a flatness miles away from the original bliss Digger had felt when touched by the thing in the church.

  Sanzeros was tall and gaunt with a thin moustache, geeky, carrying a pump-action shotgun. His partner, Ludd, was shorter and heavier with solid muscle. Ludd was wearing a fighting exoskeleton like Lyncher Lee but it was an older model, bulkier and more like a mech or a small, walking bulldozer. Tubing looped around joints of the exoskeleton. Huge, horseshoe-shaped bits of metal wrapped around Ludd’s already meaty fists. In spite of their different physical stances they moved in concert. Digger raised his gun but hesitated, wondering if gunfire would draw the attention of the thing in the church again. They didn’t have much choice though, as Sanzeros and Ludd closed in.

  “Magic juice, mate!” Digger said.

  Shouldering his UMP45, Digger let out a short tear. Bullets hammered Ludd’s chest and the big man in the exoskeleton stumbled back, dropping to one knee. Sanzeros aimed his shotgun clumsily. It was hard to say if his awkward handling of the weapon was due to mind control or the hacker’s unfamiliarity with the weapon. The young man’s killing experience was from a distance, hacking at least one smart building’s computer mainframe and causing it to go haywire. Face blank, Sanzeros fired wildly with shots that would have gone over Digger and Homer’s heads even if they’d been standing closer.

  Digger fired back but he was short on ammo and had to retreat. He had to preserve his ammunition as much as possible with all three of the brainwashed teams c
losing in. Down the road, the automated garbage truck was still collecting empty trash cans. It was heading away from the church, moving around the gated communities. Digger and Homer ran for the truck. Now that he knew the section’s real threat was the thing in the church and not some leftover, automated machines, the truck could be useful as cover. Sanzeros continued to ratchet the shotgun and fire blindly.

  With a howl of gunfire, another team emerged from the space between two properties. Talons, the French assassin, was a tall, solidly built woman with short blonde hair, wearing a leather outfit for protection. Steel nails glimmered at the ends of her fingers, the implanted weapons from which she got her name. She was also gripping a short submachine gun. Her eyes were narrowed over the gun’s sights but she was wearing the same blank expression as the others. Talons was a professional but she fired erratically as well, wringing her gun’s trigger. Shots ricocheted off the tail of the garbage truck as Digger and Homer disappeared behind it. The automated truck kept moving, slowly, as it did its rounds.

  Scurrying alongside the moving truck, Digger felt fingers in the back of his skull. This time, however, Digger had a chance to fight it. With adrenaline racing, Digger gripped the side of his head, shouting, as invisible tendrils boiled inside his skull. Fighting it out, Digger managed to keep moving but he was distracted. Bullets railed against the truck’s side as it wheeled around one corner. Its pincer arm fixed around another empty trash can, tossing it up over the hole in its back.

  Talons’ partner, Dr Martina Hart, was struggling under the weight of an enormous, quad-barrelled missile launcher. Smaller and skinnier than Talons with amber red hair, Hart’s innocent looks were belied by the brutal experiments she had taken part in alongside the other contestant, unseen for the moment, Dr Klou. Hart shouldered her heavy missile launcher without a trace of complaint on her face. The M202 launcher was a dull metal colour with four gaping muzzles, each a handspan in diametre, barrels forming a long, brick-shaped body. Hart fumbled with the firing mechanism and the weapon erupted. A backwash of power and flame roasted the street behind the doctor, and a missile roared from the first muzzle. The missile streaked toward the garbage truck that Digger and Homer were hidden behind, leaving a winding tail of smoke.

  Hart’s aim was poor but the truck was a big target. The missile slammed into the automated vehicle and exploded, blast echoing the length of the street. A tremendous fireball tipped the truck onto two wheels for several moments. The back of the vehicle was made of metal that was too thick to be torn apart by the blast, like a tank, but the cabin at the front imploded. The truck slammed back onto all four wheels and ground to a stop. Tyres on the side hit by the missile were shredded and the rear section was scorched and warped. The arm and pincer the truck used for grabbing trash cans started moving up and down spasmodically, jolting out and grabbing at empty air. Digger and Homer, on the other side from the blast, were safe although their ears were ringing. As the truck came to a stop, smoke billowing off of it, the two of them were forced to stop as well.

  Following the explosion, the thing from the church seemed to double its efforts to pierce Digger’s brain. Dropping his gun, the Australian grabbed the side of his head and fell to his knees. Ringing in his ears from the blast was drowned out by screaming inside his skull. Homer ran to help him but hesitated. The third team, German doctor Klou and former test subject Echo Three, were circling around the stalled garbage truck in harmony with each other’s movements. Face blank, Echo Three’s hands were white-knuckled around her axe. Klou was carrying his laser weapon, a drum-loaded, shotgun-shaped device with a glowing muzzle. His sleeve was pulled back from his left arm, covered in thick, black scales with fingers that ended in wicked claws. From the other end of the nearest street, Sanzeros and Ludd were approaching again.

  Homer groped for the injectors on his belt. He slipped a second white tube out of its holder, popping its cap, and he jammed it into the side of his neck. Immediately he started seizing as the drug took effect. Klou fired but missed as Homer dropped onto his knees. The lance of sizzling energy cooked through the side of the truck behind Homer, blowing it open. Feeling power fill his body and shaking off his blurred mind, Homer straightened and whipped his hand out at the team of Klou and Echo. The sudden power, along with the gunfire, smoke, and his ringing ears, was almost overwhelming.

  Klou and Echo were picked up and slingshotted across the street, over the wall of an abandoned house and into an overgrown yard. Digger was overwhelmed by the psychic waves coming from the thing in the church. Without touching, Homer waved his other hand in Digger’s direction. The signal was cut off instantly. Digger’s face cleared and his eyes darted around, suddenly aware of their surroundings again. Snatching his UMP45 off the ground, the Australian clamoured back to his feet.

  Talons clumsily reloaded her submachine gun, circling the smoking garbage truck. Depressing the trigger, Talons unloaded the entire magazine in one stream over the course of several seconds. Bullets clattered off the tail of the garbage truck and down the length of the side where Digger and Homer were taking cover, ricocheting above Digger’s head. Digger fired back, a short burst that chewed through Talons’ leather outfit and caught on her body armour. The woman staggered but kept coming, closing the distance between the two of them. Martina Hart was following Talons, stumbling under the weight of her quad-barrel missile launcher.

  As she got close enough, the French assassin suddenly turned into an animal. Hissing, Talons hurled her empty weapon at Digger. The Australian ducked it, snapping off one more short burst at Talons and another at Hart. Both were hammered and cut down but not fatally injured as their body armour did its job. His gun was empty, with no more magazines to spend.

  Blood streaming from a couple of gaps in her armour, Talons lunged. Her metal fingernails grew into razor sharp points.Even though his gun was empty, Talons first concentrated on disarming Digger by snatching at the weapon and swinging with her metallic claws. The points sliced through Digger’s arm just above his lightweight kill switch sleeve. Digger released the gun, allowing it to be thrown aside. The woman lashed out, jabbing at Digger with her namesake claws. Digger took several shallow wounds and gashes to his arms but protected his face and twisted to avoid the worst of it. Blood leaked through his uniform.

  Hart got back up onto her feet, face blank, and started to recollect her missile launcher. She could blow them all up at once if she got close enough. An invisible push from Homer bowled her over again. Both Hart and the missile launcher were thrown hard in opposite directions but the woman gathered herself back up quickly, scraped and bloodied, and immediately started toward the weapon again. Meanwhile, the first team, Sanzeros and Ludd, were closing in. Homer lashed out and drove the two of them back as well, pinning them to the road. The thing in the church continued sending out powerful feelers of its own power, trying to take Digger and fighting against Homer on a purely mental battlefield. Homer was distracted as the thing ate up his concentration.

  Talons launched herself at Digger, wrapping her legs around his middle. Her clawed hands were aimed at Digger’s face. They cut a couple of shallow slices out of Digger’s cheeks but missed his eyes. Digger grabbed Talons by the wrists and shoved her hands away, staggering under her muscular weight. He wheeled around and flung her against the side of the garbage truck, legs wrapped around his midsection, and she bounced off it with a metal clang. Ramming her into it again and again until her grip weakened, Digger twisted Talons’ arm and pulled her off of him. The two of them crashed together and then came apart before Digger hauled a punch into Talons’ jaw. As Talons’ reeled, Digger slipped his knife out of its sheath. His first slash glanced off Talons’ body armour. With fingers splayed, Talons lashed around on Digger with her razor sharp fingernails. Digger rammed his knife into Talons’ outstretched palm, impaling it. Talons recoiled like she had touched a hot stove but there was no pain on her face. Her hand twisted away from Digger and pulled the knife out of his grasp.

 
Homer’s abilities, even at a passive level, had been enough to protect him from the thing in the church. Now that it had felt him, however, the presence had turned its full attention on the boy. It buzzed around his head like a swarm of hornets. Homer pushed it away, and kept his focus on keeping Digger’s head clear. He shoved the other contestants back as well but left Talons fighting with Digger.

  Taking hold of the handle of Digger’s knife, Talons yanked the blade loose from her palm. Blood flowed freely down her forearm and across her metal sleeve. She didn’t show any discomfort. Slashing at Digger, it was obvious some of the assassin’s moves and instincts were still in her. Digger was forced backward. He blocked her arm and then shouldered his way in, slamming Talons into the truck. Blank, Talons tried to jam the knife into Digger’s neck. She slammed back into Digger, wrapping one foot around his leg and shoving him to the ground. Digger rolled sideways as Talons came down on him. He disappeared under the carriage of the garbage truck as Talons’ metal fingertips sparked off the asphalt. The Australian emerged from the other side, wreathed in smoke, and crawled away from the wreckage.

  Shotgun blasts thundered across the street as Juan Sanzaeros darted forward. His partner, Ludd, moved like a bulldozer. Homer swept his arm around and a wave of invisible force picked both men up and threw them into another wall. Hate radiated from the thing in the church. It was aimed at Homer and Digger, trying to destroy them, but since it couldn’t do it with psychic energy alone it sent commands to its slaves to do the deed. Martina Hart scrambled to retrieve her dropped missile launcher. Shakily, she got back to her feet and lifted the weapon, staggering toward the garbage truck. Digger saw her coming and realised the brainwashed woman was waiting until she got close enough and then was going to try to blow up all four of them at once.

  “Homer! The bitch with the missile launcher! For fuck’s sake, take her out!” Digger yelled.

 

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