He had seen firsthand that the true blame for his father’s death, and the perhaps permanent damage to his country, was inflicted by a corrupt regime and the costumed freaks. They were the ones responsible; they had all conspired to bring a country to its knees and to send many a man, woman and child to their graves, and he had the chance at last to finally balance the scales.
His squad had worked their way through the base, stepping over several bodies of the facility’s staff that they were told the Queen’s Guard were responsible for, something he found easy to believe.
The media were finally telling the truth about the organisation, and he knew that their time was short; he also knew that they would not go down quietly.
The ex-prime minister had been found murdered only hours before she had been due to go on live TV and cleanse herself of her guilt, thus exposing the Queen’s Guard at the same time.
His team’s orders tonight were to simply subdue and detain the members they found at the base, but he had to admit that part of him secretly hoped the freaks would want to stand and fight. He was getting his wish.
Now that he knew the swarming sirens had been simply an illusion, he found himself rousing his squad back to the base, determined to take down those that had embarrassed him.
Of course, his first instinct hadn’t been to flee the scene in the first place; he would rather have stood his ground and exerted his authority. They were, after all, in the right here. They were the law and they were operating in the light, but Cynthia had retreated and the call came through his earpiece to retreat out of sight.
He wasn’t happy that a civilian was joining them on the raid, but Cynthia Arrow had connections at the very highest level, and didn’t she deserve to be here? Hadn’t she suffered almost more than anyone else at the hands of the freaks and the corrupt government?
He’d only heard a little of what the woman had been discussing with the freaks as he’d been on the ground at the rear of the building covering the escape route, but he didn’t blame her for being pissed or for wanting her own vengeance.
He ran back now with his team in formation, serious officers with wounded pride and burning anger surging through their veins; they wouldn’t be stopped, not again… not with their sarge leading them.
He offered a couple of succinct hand signals to the officers behind him and they broke formation to fan out as they entered back into the base and headed up towards the break room where they’d left the freaks before.
His mind was so set on the task ahead and his building rage for the witch that had tricked him that he didn’t hear the noise at first. It was only when he reached out for a door handle that he realised the two squad members weren’t in position behind him.
Stopping, he turned around in surprise to find the officers suddenly standing still.
Several of the team had pulled their masks off when they’d first retreated and he noticed now that the two behind him hadn’t put them back on again. This allowed him to see the sudden looks of fear in their eyes.
“What is this shit?” he hissed towards the young broad man called Hoskins standing in bulky combat gear.
His answer came in the way of a low rumble that seemed to resonate through the very foundations of the building. His first thought was that it was an earthquake, but that notion was soon dispersed when he heard gunfire.
“WHO’S FIRING?” he yelled into his mic, but there was no clear reply, only the sound of another panicked burst of firing.
“What are they shooting at, sarge?” Hoskins asked nervously. “Are they under attack?”
Brown listened intently but there was clearly only one weapon firing and it was one of his own doing the shooting.
“Sarge?” the other officer, a large grizzled woman called Trent, behind him asked.
“Do we press on, sarge?” Hoskins asked.
“They might need our help. Do we head that way?” Trent enquired as she shifted from foot to foot, eager to be moving.
“Rees? Come in, Rees?” he demanded into the mic, ignoring the questions, mainly because he didn’t have any answers right now.
At that moment, the whole building seemed to shake as something huge crashed into a wall somewhere at the rear of the building and he didn’t need the radio to hear more firing from other squad members, along with their screaming.
“Sarge?” Hoskins pressed. “What’s going on?”
“It’s that bloody witch again, that’s all. She’s got them seeing things and pissing their sodding pants!” he growled back, determined to fill the uncomfortable silence with strong leadership.
The gunfire and yells were now joined with a scream of pure rage that seemed completely primal and unlike anything he’d ever heard before, and it shook the walls around them.
He’d hunted as a young man taking safaris around the world, and he’d heard plenty of animals roaring in attack, but this was different: this was otherworldly.
“Doesn’t sound like any kind of trick,” Trent offered. Her voice was thankfully still strong while Hoskins paled at the noise.
“It’s just an illusion, like before,” Sarge reiterated. “Bloody children,” he snarled, acting as though he hadn’t been fooled before.
He turned and headed towards the sound of gunfire and raised voices.
“Come on,” he barked at the others, and they fell into line behind him.
He moved quickly with his weapon held up on his shoulder, ready for anything the freaks chose to throw at him. A small voice in his head was nagging at him that this might not be a trick, but he squashed it quickly. There was no way that he was going to be embarrassed twice in quick succession; what would his father have thought?
He was heading towards the loud noises when they suddenly fell silent, the sound of battle dying as quickly as it had arisen. Hoskins ground to halt behind him, and he heard a dull thud followed by a grunt of pain as Trent punched the younger man hard to get him moving again.
They rounded a corner at double speed, Brown’s legs pumping furiously, eager to put an end to the nonsense, but he suddenly ground to halt himself.
The large open parking bay was splattered with red as though someone had filled buckets with blood and thrown them against the walls. There were body parts lying on the ground, limbs torn from torsos and cast aside like an obscene jigsaw puzzle waiting to be reassembled.
“This… this isn’t real…, right?” Hoskins gasped as his eyes bulged.
“It’s just a trick, right sarge? Like the other time?” Trent asked, but even her voice sounded strained and doubtful now.
“Of course it is,” he said, mustering more confidence than he felt. “It’s all just that bloody witch’s doing. You saw what she did earlier with the flashing lights and sirens. None of this is real.”
The other two didn’t seem quite as convinced, and in truth, he was starting to wonder himself. He got that the witch could make them see things, but in here, he could smell the blood. He could almost taste the faeces in the air as his officers had shit themselves before being ripped from limb to limb.
“It’s just a trick,” he repeated, stronger this time, using his not inconsiderable force of will over the two officers beside him. “It’s just like looking at a movie.”
“Then what’s that?” Hoskins shrieked as something huge moved out of the shadows.
The creature was large, black-furred and ripped from the depths of a nightmare. It stood at least seven feet tall, but its body was almost as wide as it was long, a black matted ball of teeth and claws with glowing red eyes that seemed to burn from across the room.
Sarge stared at the hideous monster in front of him. He felt a sudden calmness while the other two started to back away.
“She’s made a fatal mistake.” He laughed, partly with relief. “Don’t you see? Look at it! There’s nothing like this in existence. She made a bloody children’s bogeyman! Something to scare simpletons. If she’d wanted to get to us, she should have chosen something real. That tri
ck with the sirens, that was smart. This? This is just desperate.”
He strode out across the parking bay towards the creature, now sure that he was right. If he’d found an armed squad waiting for him here, soldiers with automatic weapons outgunning his own unit, then he’d have retreated. Hell, he did so when he thought that their activities were about to be exposed by an influx of emergency services that he couldn’t control.
The creature stood watching him silently as he walked right up to it. He marvelled at the witch’s ability to make something so real. His boots sent empty shell casings scattering across the concrete floor. No doubt his men had gotten spooked, fired wildly and then fled, but not him… not the sarge.
“Well now,” he said as he stood in front of the creature. “Aren’t you just an ugly son of a bitch?”
The creature responded with a flash of a paw, and the sarge’s vision was momentarily trying to adjust in the micro seconds that his severed head continued to think it was still alive as it was sent spinning across the parking bay.
Needless to say that Hoskins and Trent didn’t last much longer, although to Trent’s credit, she at least managed to fire a few rounds in anger as the monster charged. Hoskins’ contribution? Well, he simply stood still and wet himself.
chapter 25
LIFE ON THE RUN
No one spoke as they entered the seemingly abandoned building. The place belonged to Crimson, another bolthole to be used in an emergency, and that was most definitely an apt description of where they all currently stood.
The bottom floors of the apartment block were unused and the stench of decay was thick in the air as he led them up the staircase in silence.
Some of the doors hung open, showing the empty apartments inside and the occasional glimpse of scared eyes peering out from the shadows as the uninvited rodent residents showed their displeasure at the visitors.
The door at the top of the stairs to the penthouse was the only one with a sturdy door and a sturdier padlock.
Crimson pulled out a set of keys and opened the door before leading them all inside.
The interior far exceeded anything the others had been expecting as the apartment was clean and furnished, if a little stale smelling.
Crimson quickly went around the apartment and pulled all of the blackout shades down to hide their presence.
There were covers over the pieces of furniture, and he quickly whipped them off before heading to a small door in the wall. He opened it and flicked a switch, sending a quick hum of electricity around the place.
Finally, he turned on all of the lights before taking two bottles of whisky and one of water from a cupboard and placing them on a long coffee table in front of a sofa before sitting down heavily.
The others followed suit, weary bones and weary minds finally giving out as they sat down heavily. Still, no one had spoken.
Crimson took one of the whisky bottles and started to drink from it. He nudged the second bottle towards Jamie-Lyn, Jesus and Link, but none of them moved for now.
CJ was at least up and moving now, but he was still unsteady on his feet and practically collapsed into an armchair. His green skin seemed to grow even greener at the sight of the water bottle put there for his benefit.
In the seconds before all hell had broken loose downstairs in the base, he had finally stirred. The sound of gunfire and screams had startled them all, but the animal-like roar had shocked them into paralysis.
Crimson had finally been the one to move and had forced them over the edge of the flat roof, Jamie-Lyn being the last one to leave and the one that he’d had to force the most.
He shoved CJ’s unconscious body off the side, rolling the giant alien over the edge and crashing down into the shrubbery below.
Together, they had all staggered away, some limping more than others as the gunfire and screams continued behind them.
They had no transport and were on foot, knowing that they would not get very far if the SCO19 team decided to follow and finish the job.
CJ had finally stirred just in the nick of time as Jesus and Link dropped his body, their own bodies exhausted from half carrying and half dragging him across the open fields behind the base.
CJ had looked at them with confusion, but his mind had seemingly always worked faster than a human’s and he quickly ascertained their position, or at least the one they were currently in.
His body had suddenly been surrounded by his crackling purple electricity that everyone bar Link recognised. The newcomer’s face had been creased with equal parts awe and then terror before CJ had teleported them away.
The distance was short but it was far enough to give them some breathing space as they reappeared in thick woods. It was from there that Crimson had led them to his hideaway.
Jamie-Lyn reached out for the whisky bottle and unscrewed the cap before downing a large gulp and then fighting the gag reflex to keep the strong liquor down.
“Are we going to talk about it?” she finally asked when she could stand the deathly silence no longer.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Crimson replied softly.
“Nothing?” she roared back. “Are you serious?”
“What do you want me to say? Hell, what is there to say?”
“That we left our friend to die? How about that for starters?”
“She was already gone,” Jesus interjected as his fingers rubbed his forehead tiredly. “You know that.”
“The hell I do!” Jamie-Lyn exploded. “We could have gotten her out, gotten her to a hospital… We could have…” She trailed away as she fought back tears.
“I saw the wounds,” Link offered gently. “We all did. There was no way that she would have made it another ten minutes. I’m sorry. She seemed nice.”
“Nice?” Crimson sneered. “She was a goddamn animal in the field. She could make you piss your pants without breaking a sweat; she could be a fucking monster.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” Jamie-Lyn immediately fired back.
“Hey, I meant it as a compliment,” Crimson clarified. “The doc was a bona fide badass in my book.”
“She gave her life for us,” CJ said, his voice strained as he sat with his eyes closed.
“What exactly did she do?” Link asked the group.
“She called it, didn’t she?” Crimson said towards CJ. “She reached out, found it and called it in using herself as bait. I just hope that she died before that thing ripped through the cops and got to her.”
He nodded in confirmation.
“It?” Link asked confused.
“The beast,” Jesus answered for him. “She called the beast to us, to the base.”
The revelation sat heavily on the group as they pictured what the creature must have done to the SCO19 team.
“I have to be honest, I find it hard to conjure up any sympathy for them,” Jamie-Lyn finally said.
“It seems like everyone’s got it in for us.” Link sighed heavily.
“Us,” Jamie-Lyn clarified. “You know, you can just leave, Link. This doesn’t have to concern you. You could just slip away, and no one would blame you.” She glanced over at Crimson. “Well, most of us wouldn’t blame you.”
“I’m staying,” he responded positively. “Whether I like it or not, I’m in this with the rest of you. Safety in numbers, right?”
“Not these numbers,” Crimson added sarcastically.
“Look, what we need here is a plan,” Jesus announced. “Yes, we’ve taken some knocks, but I for one say that we get back on the horse; we need to have a strategy here for moving forwards.”
“Strategy?” Crimson laughed bitterly.
“Yes,” Jesus replied firmly. “That is exactly what we need here, and might I remind you all that I am still the one in charge here.”
Jesus stared down Crimson as the rest of the group felt the tension rise again between the two men. Crimson leaned forward from his seated position, his eyes hard and set.
“Let me
tell you something, sunshine. You’re in charge of about two things right now: jack and shit.”
“This is still my unit,” Jesus replied slowly, refusing to back down.
“All due respect – and by that I mean very little – I don’t think so, at least not anymore,” Jamie-Lyn said.
“She’s right,” Link offered. “We’re off the books here, sir. It’s been a long time since I was under any man’s control in the army. I had to get used to being a private citizen again. I suggest that you start doing the same.”
“Infighting isn’t going to do any of us any good.” CJ sighed heavily. “But Jesus is right about one thing… we do need a plan of action here.”
“What was the name of that scientist you were talking about?” Crimson suddenly asked as a thought process started to crank up in his mind.
“Scientist?” Link asked.
“Yeah, Jesus was talking before about a scientist, Scandinavian I think he said.”
“What about him?” Jesus asked with a shake of his head.
“Well something just struck me, something about…” Crimson shook his own head as if trying to grip on to the fleeting thought.
Link opened his mouth to ask something else, but Jamie-Lyn flapped a hand at him to quiet him while Crimson was thinking. Whatever was on the man’s mind might very well be important.
“It’s just… well, with Doc…,” Crimson started, struggling to vocalise what he was feeling. “We all agree that she called in the beast, right?”
“Well we can’t be 100% sure because we never saw it,” Jamie-Lyn said reasonably.
“Maybe not, but we do know it all the same, right? I mean, what the hell else could it have been? What else would Doc have called in to take those SCO19 goons apart?”
The others all thought about it before slowly nodding in agreement.
“Okay, then what’s your point?” Jamie-Lyn asked pointedly.
“Point is this: we need to know what we’re up against here, apart from Cynthia Arrow, that is. Now he…,” Crimson said, jerking a thumb towards CJ, “…has told a story about enslaved mine workers. The…?”
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