Cynetic Wolf

by Matt Ward

  ‘Negative. Got here two minutes ago and secured the perimeter,’ he added, reading my mind.

  A door slammed. ‘Move, move!’ another voice yelled.

  The ground raced to meet us. Twenty meters, ten. We hit the pavement hard, doors flying open. I jumped out, smelling blood as Henk messed with controls.

  ‘Prepare for breach in three, two—’

  BOOM!

  An explosion rocked the building, flinging me back. Debris showered from a gaping hole on the fourth floor, a deluge of brick and wood and concrete plummeting toward me.

  I dove into the entrance as a support beam slammed into the street. The implosion launched chunks of concrete into the air, reverberating through the building, and echoing down the streets.

  ‘Come in, Michaels. Come in!’

  Nothing. Five seconds later, again. I was already halfway up, taking the steps three at a time. ‘Michaels!’ I screamed.

  No response. No...

  Hitting the fourth floor landing, I launched myself into the corner and leveled my blasters. The view was breathtaking, the entire wall decimated by the blast. Jumping broken glass, I hurried into the apartment and checked each room.

  First room, all clear.

  A call from Henk. Not now.

  Where are you, Calter?

  I kicked down the second door and spun, firing twice as a precaution. Other than Bikkins and Todd—both covered in blood and missing half their torsos—it was empty as well.

  Judging by the size of the building, there were two more rooms. My heart pounded, everything in slow motion as I cleared the third room.

  One to go.

  I darted in, blasters leveled.

  71

  A Work Of Art

  I didn’t believe in god, but this man exceeded even the most sadistic of demons.

  The posh well-lit bedroom looked straight out of Dante’s Inferno, a bloody mosaic covering the king sized bed where a beautiful pale woman lay lifeless. Her throat was slit, a gory kitchen knife to one side. There was blood everywhere; rich crimson splattering the milky carpet below, and a bloodstained message on the walls: You did this. This is ALL your fault!

  I bent, retching. It was more than I could take.

  Backing out of the room, I called Henk. The smell was putrid, burnt flesh and blood-soaked fibers mixing with the explosive exhaust fumes.

  After a quick check of the apartment revealed nothing else, I stumbled out the door and downstairs, ears ringing. Ten more dead. Waves of guilt.

  “Really?” he asked in disgusted disbelief.

  I nodded, unable to speak and climbed in.

  He stifled a grimace and took off. We were sixty seconds from being debris ourselves.

  Henk took us through some crazy maneuvers on the ride back. We were worried about tails, but twenty minutes later, we were back at the farmhouse without incident.

  Zedda and Caell ran to meet us. Without speaking, we trudged upstairs, everyone silent, processing what happened.

  They’d all be questioning my leadership, questioning my morality, questioning me. And they were right. Who was I anyway? Why’d I think I could do this, take on Calter? It was one failure after another. Hopeless, I sank into the chair next to Ganla. No one said anything. The tension was palpable, everything left unsaid. And it was all my fault...

  The rest of the afternoon was awful, and Calter had Frankis and Zedric.

  Zedda found me not long after. “Wanna talk about it?” she asked, face somber but eyes kind.

  I shook my head, but that didn’t help. Everything came pouring out. I couldn’t help it. Feeling like an impostor, letting Fitz and Lars down, failing as a leader, being a fraud... All my doubts and fears flowed out, wave after hopeless wave.

  She said nothing, waiting until I finished before putting her arms around me. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered, holding me tight. “I love you, Raek.”

  Wrapping my arms around her, I held on for dear life. She was the one thing grounding me, my rock, and I was crumbling. Tears came and I let them. Rubbing bleary eyes, I murmured, “I love you too!” Staring into her eyes, alone and desperate beyond belief, I knew without a shade of a doubt, it was true.

  She smiled, and I felt a bit better. That small gesture, that little reassurance… it meant the world.

  Then the call came in. I hurried downstairs. It was time.

  72

  Footsteps And Fans

  ‘Calter?’ I said, shell-shocked as we connected.

  ‘The old Colts’ stadium. Lucas Oil. You have twenty minutes. Meet me there, alone,’ he added. ‘Southeast corner of the field, what’s left of it.’

  I mouthed the name to Henk and Ganla before adding, ‘You won’t get away with this. You’re a monster, you—’

  The call ended.

  “Henk, I need a lift. Old Lucas Oil. Is the VTOL ready?”

  “Everything’s ready,” Zedda said. “But are you sure about this? After what you’ve been through… You can’t do this, not alone.”

  “I have to!” I snapped. “It’s my fault this happened.” Why couldn’t she see that?

  “I’m coming with you!” she burst out. It wasn’t a question.

  “No you’re not,” I said, shaking. “I can’t—I can’t have to worry about something happening to you.”

  “It’s not just you anymore, Raek!” Zedda hissed through gritted teeth. “We have—” she paused, noticing everyone as if for the first time.

  Ganla cut in, “She’s right, Raek. We can’t afford for you to go by yourself. You’re our best hope at a peaceful resolution.”

  “Fine! We can send backup, not by air though,” I added. “They need to come from the sides and avoid detection at all costs. Henk can bring me to the wreckage, and I’ll walk in on my own. You guys arrange backup. If Calter’s going to try something, he’ll have the area jammed. We’ll need backup comms.”

  “Or we could track your signal,” Ania said. Everyone turned to look at her. “If Raek had a simulcast going out, if his connection died, we’d know he got jammed. If that happens, it’s a trap and we rush the place, right?”

  “Ania, you’re a genius!” I exclaimed.

  She blushed, picking her nails, a proud smile on her face.

  “Okay. We need to go. I’ll simulcast to this address.” I sent a link to each of them. “You guys coordinate the backup, a small team. No more than five.”

  They nodded.

  Fifteen minutes later, Henk and I passed over the dark remains of the stadium. It must have been impressive in its day. Today though, most of the walls and seating had collapsed, cracked by Caen’s harsh winters and lack of maintenance.

  We couldn’t see Calter from the air, too much debris and temporary housing littered the place. Plus it was enormous. He could be anywhere. This was nuts, but what choice did I have?

  I jumped out as soon as we landed and surveyed the rubble, hurrying off. Eyes open.

  Picking my way through the cold, dead landscape, I heightened my senses, heart rate quickening. He could be anywhere. At the edge of the stadium, I headed for a dilapidated entrance to my right. It looked safe enough, but looks could be deceiving.

  Inside was a mess. The stadium had been the home to tens of thousands of homeless during the ruthless winters, before the government kicked them out. The ground was covered in wrappers and bottles, all manner of packaging. Most wasn’t recyclable. A lot had changed in the last few decades.

  From the crumbling stands, I scanned the ghost town in front of me with thermals. A familiar glow illuminated the place, but nothing moving. The place reeked of despair and better times, death too.

  Creeping toward the field, I hopped to the bald astroturf and set off for the Southeast corner. Calter should be there.

  The field was huge, grimy tents and biofabbed huts everywhere; remnants of the displaced strewn like leaves in the wind. Suffering for decades...

  Something moved. “Calter?” I yelled. “Zedric? Frankis? You there?” />
  A stumbling shape emerged and fell to the ground. It was Frankis, arms and legs magcuffed, mouth covered. Calter must be nearby.

  A crash behind me. I dove, spinning as I did. Zedric toppled, similarly bound. At least he was alive.

  What was happening?

  “Calter, you wanted this meeting!” I shouted as I got to my feet, heart pounding, every noise amplified. “I’m alone and unarmed. Show yourself!”

  “I did.” A figure turned the corner and fired, shattering the silence.

  I leapt and the blast incinerated the ground I’d been standing on. Shit. Another hit Zedric in the chest, killing him instantly. Not him too.

  I tried messaging the others. No luck. My connection was gone, jammed. Frankis whimpered something unintelligible.

  “You don’t have to do this, Calter!” I shouted. “You have me, that’s what you wanted. Let the boy go!”

  A slight movement behind me. I ducked, firing. A scream as a black-clad figure collapsed, army insignia on his fatigues.

  Calter had brought a hit squad. How many?

  Another rounded the corner, blaster leveled. Somehow, I got off the first shot and dodged his hurried blast. There was an explosion several meters away. I ran as blaster fire filled the air.

  My one chance was the maze-like complexity of the area. If Fury had lied and brought men, he’d have more than enough to finish the job. He didn’t strike me as someone who left things to chance.

  Escape or wait for backup, there was no other way. Would they be fast enough?

  The building in front of me collapsed.

  Sprinting for cover, I heard footsteps everywhere. Another figure knelt behind a wall. I fired. Two more.

  A VTOL took off.

  At least Henk was coming, if I could hold out.

  Eruptions to my left. They didn’t know where I was. Maybe the jammers blocked their comms as well. A VTOL appeared over the northern walls.

  Huh? Shouldn’t Henk have come from the southwest?

  The ship opened fire.

  The area to my left detonated, sending chunks of concrete and turf flying. I raced for cover. I had to get to the walls.

  Blaster fire behind me caught my attention, missing me by centimeters. Dropping, I started crawling. The VTOL would have thermal imaging. If they saw me, I was a sitting duck.

  It turned my way, closing the distance. I wasn’t going to make it.

  I ran, and the pilot took a few seconds to react before the barrage resumed. That probably saved me.

  When I saw the second VTOL, I knew I was done for. Was my hearing damaged? Why hadn’t I heard it?

  The second closed at a blistering pace as the first raced toward me, guns rattling. He rose higher, lining up the shot. The second ship smashed into it. What the—?

  A ball of flame enveloped the pair. They crashed to the earth with a resounding BOOM that rocked the night. Henk! He’d sacrificed himself.

  Another friend gone… A raging sadness engulfed me. Two shadows materialized to my right, soldiers running to check the pilot. I shot both.

  Where was Calter?

  Frankis screamed, and I turned back. I had to get him out of here. Sneaking along the outer wall, I backtracked. A soldier looking down his scope lost his throat before he realized what happened.

  Another was lying under a tent, muzzle pointed toward Frankis. I thanked my wolfish ancestors as I slipped in for the silent kill.

  I’d dispatched nine of Calter’s men so far. How many more could there be? And where the heck was my backup? They should have been here by now.

  Frankis was up ahead, hanging by a thread. Blood pooled from a wound on his forehead and his right leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. Reminded me of Bruce. He didn’t have much time.

  A crunch of footsteps. I spun, preparing to fire. Something made me hesitate.

  It was Henk.

  “Henk?” I whispered. “You’re alive? You made it? But—”

  “Autopilot,” Henk said. “Dove out before impact.”

  “Where are the others?” Were they okay?

  “Somewhere in here.” He looked around. “I don’t—”

  A scream. We took off.

  73

  Touch Down

  We picked off two more soldiers crossing the shadowy stadium but didn’t hear anything, eerie silence resuming. I was worried. Where were they?

  We headed toward the other end and were about to turn back when there was another yell, a female voice this time. My heart stopped. Zedda?

  I ran harder, safety and stealth the furthest thing from my mind as Henk struggled to keep up. Not my problem. Zedda needed me! There was a volley of blaster fire at midfield.

  Someone got hit, falling hard to the ground. My eyes sharpened. It was Calter, he stood over two bodies.

  “Calter, you bastard!” I sprang, tackling him. As I flew, time slowed. He turned, raised his hand and fired. I recognized Keff—the lionish I’d met at the farmhouse—a gaping hole in his chest. Next to him, Drue, half his face missing.

  Calter fired twice more as we collided, hitting my left foot. My nerves exploded in agony and I disabled them as we thudded to the icy turf. Henk collapsed.

  Fury’s elbow clobbered my face as we rolled, stunning me—the force inconceivable for a human. I slammed my fist into his gut, coming face to face with a third body. It was Zedda, a bloody chasm in her belly where our child had been.

  NO… “Bastard!” Pure agony impaled me, a howling scream escaping my lips as my claws tore at his throat. “Lars, Rogers, Ashlo, Zedda, my whole family… you killed all of them!”

  He fought back, throwing punches and kicks, powerful, yet helpless as I pounded him, claws piercing his light body armor. He lifted his hand to fire but I sliced it off. Roaring, he kneed me in the stomach and shoved me away. “Dammit, boy. I’d never hurt Preta.”

  What? “You knew her?” I slashed for his throat as he tripped over Zedda’s lifeless body. Screw the plan, screw the future. Screw everything.

  He fired as my claws connected, shredding his worthless...wait. What? My fingers slipped, the tips gone, incinerated. I struggled, squeezing his bloody throat with my nubs. My left hand battled his right. I had to kill him.

  “Of course I knew her. How do you think you—”

  As I choked the life out of him, he tried to roll. I held firm, locking my legs like Lars had shown me. It didn’t work either. The leverage was off, my foot a ruined stump.

  His injured arm smashed me and he managed to free his throat enough to croak, “Raek, you’re my son.”

  My heart stopped and grip slackened. “What’d you say?” I spat, still crushing his throat. It wasn’t possible.

  “I’m your father. Your mother, Preta, we met in Itany ages ago.”

  “I don’t believe you!” I shouted, unable to comprehend what he was saying. But he knew her name...

  “How do you think you got nanoSTEMs?” He was no longer resisting. “We’re more alike than you think, son. I’ve missed you.”

  “You’re lying.” I pressed harder. It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t...

  “Thorn’s your brother,” he gasped. “Half-brother actually. Why would I lie?”

  My grip died as he proceeded to describe Mom, and how they’d met. It all made sense. A bomb detonated inside me, annihilating everything I’d ever known about myself. Him? No… I was going to be sick. Hands failing me, head spinning. “Dad?”

  His arm whipped toward me, firing

  I dodged, rolling and slashing with my good hand. “We are nothing alike!” Tearing at his throat. “Nothing!” Blood erupted as slack-jawed shock registered on his hard face. Nothing...

  “You—” He coughed, gasping before crumbling to the ground in a pool of crimson.

  I threw his limp body off me and screamed it again in a desperate whisper as poison torched my veins and heart. “We are nothing alike.”

  Zedda. I crawled toward her, every meter, searing agony. I reached her, but it was too
late. Our child, our future… splayed across weed-strewn concrete. Taking her beautiful face into my hands, I lost it. Shaking convulsions gripped me. “Zedda!” I gagged, vomiting, writhing pain. “Zedda, No.”

  But the warmth of her body was already fading, a bluish tint to her perfect lips. She was gone, she was really gone. Pure agony. I sobbed, holding her in my arms as emptiness engulfed me. First Elly, now her. Sopping misery, bleary nothingness.

  It was all over. And all for what?

  After what felt a million heartless lifetimes, a VTOL approached. It landed twenty meters away and Ganla yelled, “Raek, Raek?”

  What was she doing here? What did it matter?

  This must have been how Fitz felt when he lost Kira.

  I passed out.

  74

  A Small World After All

  I awoke to the sound of sadistic cheering.

  The doors opened, and Ganla and Henk helped me hobble down the steps. Everything was a blur of pain: faces, cheers, clapping—pure agony.

  As we entered the farmhouse, I spun. “How can you celebrate at a time like this?” I cried. “We lost people, we lost Zedda! She was preg—” The words caught in my throat. I reached out to grab the nearest person, to shake sense into them and crumpled into a sobbing heap on the snow.

  “How could you?” I sputtered. “How could you?”

  Henk helped me to my feet and carried me through the door. Everything disappeared.

  Sunlight hit me. Why hadn’t I died? Tons of messages and notifications. I ignored all of them. I could care less. I was done. I’d lost everything, EVERYTHING! Nothing could change that.

  There was a message from Zedda. Crying, I sat up. It almost killed me. Not now, not like this.

  Swinging my legs out of the old fashioned bed, I stood, keeling over. Pain wracked me as nerves in my stump of a foot exploded.

  Struggling, I wrenched myself to my feet, waiting a few moments before dulling the pain. I needed to feel something, anything. At least physical torment I could handle.