by M. J Kreyzer
Chapter 13
His forehead felt wet. He felt it and his finger nearly disappeared into a gash just above his temple. He couldn’t feel the sting that usually accompanied injuries like that, just the throbbing pain he felt at the base of his skull. With one hand Hendrick slapped his hand around blindly for something he’d lost. Finally his hand came to rest on his beaten cigar. He raised it to his mouth and clenched it in his teeth. On his back Hendrick sighed, looking towards the sky and finding a small gap in the smoke.
He could see one of the other moons. It was full. And through the hole in the smoke Hendrick could see the stars, blinking gently around the moon. Hendrick wasn’t one who felt peace often, but at this moment, having cheated death for the countless time, he felt something that was the closest he’d ever come to what he’d call ‘peace’. Using the tip of his knife he carved a tally into the underside of his forearm. With that tally mark, the total count came to sixty two. After sheathing his knife and laying there for a moment he shook his head and sat up, coming to a jarring halt against the seat restraints.
He undid the straps that held him against the seat. Bruises emerged around the edges of his armored vest where the straps had held him in place and were just starting to darken. He checked his Blazers to be sure they were still intact and he reached up to one of the panels of the shattered canopy.
Hendrick hoisted himself to his feet, stretched his legs and looked around. He pulled out his cigar and raised his eyebrows in approval. “Not bad at all.” He said.
Where the Legionnaires had been there was now a crater; nothing survived. Down the street Hendrick could see the central compound, the former Dark stronghold. Legionnaires crowded across it and not a Dark could be seen. Gunfire was sparse now. The screams had died out. The Forge tanks on the top of the mountain range were dull and distant, firing towards the outsides of the city, killing any and all escapees.
Just stick to the trees. Hendrick thought of Sable and Pontious. Stick to the trees and you’ll be fine.
He was just barely regaining his entire consciousness. The urgency of his escape began to dawn on him once again. Hendrick grunted, lifted his body from the cockpit and threw himself from the Raze.
He tumbled. His legs weren’t nearly as sturdy as he’d hoped they were. Flat on his stomach with his face in the street Hendrick gave a sharp exhale. He planted his hands and got to his knees, feeling strength in them and getting ready to climb to his feet.
It was a deathly quiet, the massacre now a thing of the past. Standing unstably on his feet, Hendrick looked down across the city, breathing hard as ash rained from the sky, peppering his shoulders and hair. They were finished. Soaking in his surroundings, Hendrick knew that to be a fact. The Darks were done. And he would be too if he stuck around much longer. After one final glance, Hendrick turned to break into what he knew would be an excruciating run.
“Hendrick the Helldog.” Said a smooth, male voice from behind him. “Hendrick… the Helldog.”
All pain was forgotten and all weakness a passing thought. Hendrick knew that voice better than his own. He smiled wide and climbed to his feet.
“It’s always been a good nickname.” The voice said again.
“And you stole it, copied my style and gave it to one of your Legionnaires.” Hendrick said, turning around and facing the man. “Now that was a dick move.”
Vladmir Frenz stood strong, chewing through a bloody hunk of flesh that he had perched between his fingers. “You’re the one who trained them.”
“And you mass produced ‘em.” Hendrick replied, his face darkened and his eyebrows furrowed. “I was actually hopin’ I’d see you here.”
“I’m sure.” Frenz said, sucking the last of the meat from the bone he ate at and tossing it to the side.
The inside of Hendrick’s chest burned. He checked the Furo readings on his Blazers.
Stabilizers. Everywhere.
“That’s right.” Frenz said while opening his arms up. “You won’t see any elemental coming from me.”
“Luke is gonna be so pissed when he finds out I killed you.” Hendrick said deeply, his eyes narrowed and his face dangerous. He took several steps towards Frenz.
Frenz didn’t move. “So…” He said. “How’s Sable? You still liking her?”
Hendrick cocked his head and his expression didn’t change. “You can read minds you dumbass. You tell me.”
From his back Frenz drew twin cutlasses, several feet long and flecked with blood. His stance changed and he looked Hendrick in the eyes.
“You sure you want to do this?”
“My best friend’s been through hell because of you.” Hendrick growled. His pace picked up. “Now it’s your turn.”
Hendrick charged him. Hard.
Frenz didn’t waver. Hendrick came in range.
He swung one cutlass diagonally and the other horizontally. Hendrick faked an upper attack and rolled, passing beneath both strikes. At the end of his roll he was on one knee. He lifted a hand up and thumbed his Blazers.
Frenz was already in motion. He jumped up, kicked off the side of a building to get over the flames and came down on Hendrick with both swords swinging. Hendrick rolled again, hit his side and kicked out.
He caught Frenz in the jaw. Frenz was unphased and swung his cutlass fast.
It clipped Hendrick’s shoulder, going deep enough to draw purple blood. He spun his body on one hand into a position where he could pounce. He squared his shoulders and speared Frenz around the chest. Hendrick drove Frenz back as hard as he could, slamming him against the brick building on the other side of the street. Frenz’s head jerked back and thudded brutally against the wall. Dazed, he flipped his cutlasses in his hands and plunged them downward. Hendrick dodged the first and grabbed Frenz’s other wrist and held it. With his other hand Hendrick found the gaps in Frenz’s armor and threw vicious hooks into his kidneys.
Frenz thrust Hendrick away and kneed him in the face, bloodying his nose. It didn’t bother Hendrick. He closed the gap again, harder this time, twisting Frenz’s arm and trying to disarm him. Frenz resisted. He found an opening in Hendrick’s defenses.
It was Hendrick’s thigh.
Frenz plunged his cutlass downward and buried it in Hendrick’s leg, the tip of the blade grinding across his femur and bursting out the other side.
Hendrick didn’t yell. He kicked the skewered leg backwards and wrenched the cutlass from Frenz’s hand. Frenz raised the now empty hand in a fist with the Legionnaire’s equivalent of brass knuckles built into the armor. He swung and nailed Hendrick in the jaw, cracking it. He swung, swung, swung, repeatedly. Gashes appearing all across his face and flood flowing freely down it Hendrick absorbed the blows. He grabbed the hand and twisted it against Frenz’s will. He held both Frenz’s hands down. Frenz tried to knee Hendrick.
He dodged it, forced Frenz against the wall and head-butted him. Three times.
Frenz’s nose had snapped. He still fought at full strength. He wrenched one arm free gave Hendrick a debilitating uppercut. Again, Hendrick absorbed the blow.
Sweat and blood stung his eyes. He could barely see. Frenz’s hands were everywhere. And Frenz was keeping clear of Hendrick’s Blazers. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Frenz threw one more punch into Hendrick’s ribcage. Hendrick coughed blood, threw his shoulder into Frenz’s throat and grabbed the edges of his chest plate. With a heave Hendrick tossed Frenz behind him, forcing him to stumble towards the center of the street. Hendrick ripped the cutlass from his thigh, sprinted after Frenz and tackled him in his instability.
They smashed through wooden shutters in a cloud of dust and landed in the black and white charred interior of a home. Hendrick landed on top of Frenz, losing the cutlass as Frenz already had his feet up. He kicked Hendrick in the chest and knocked him onto a countertop, leapt to his feet and charged him.
Hendrick’s back was too him. Frenz would tackle him around his waist and break his lower spine.
Frenz clenched his teeth in a smile and dove.
Hendrick spun around wild eyed and nailed Frenz across the side of the head with a marble cutting board he had picked up from the counter. Frenz was redirected and his head crashed against the edge of the counter as he fell. Hendrick walked over to Frenz as he tried to get back to his feet, raised the cutting board and swung it brutally downward. Frenz twisted with the impact and fell to the floor. Blood dripping from his chin, Hendrick tossed the cutting board aside. He grabbed the collar of Frenz’s armor, shoved a charred dining chair out of the way, pulled Frenz away from the counter and knelt on his chest.
“LOOK AT ME!” Hendrick shouted, his chest rising and falling hard amidst hard, noisy breaths.
Frenz looked up at Hendrick, bloodied, bruised, his eyes swollen but unafraid. Hendrick aimed his Blazers at Frenz’s face and pulled the trigger. Nothing. They must have busted sometime during the fight. Hendrick didn’t care. “Don’t need ‘em”
He pulled Frenz closer and punched him, again, and again, harder with each punch and unleashing every ounce of anger he had on Frenz’s skull. Decades of pain and frustration dealt by this one man. And now Hendrick would beat his head in.
Suddenly he stopped. There was renewed strength that shot through Frenz’s body. Hendrick felt it and knew it wasn’t good. The Stabilizer was gone.
Hendrick leapt up for cover. Frenz got to a knee and made a quick horizontal line with his hand in Hendrick’s direction.
A wide, bloody gash tore through Hendrick’s vest and shredded his back as though cut by an invisible sword. Hendrick grunted, turned back towards Frenz and glared at him.
Frenz wasn’t hurt. He was bloody, he was bruised, but he wasn’t hurt. He stood strong as though the fight had never happened. Hendrick had waited years, decades, to get a piece of Frenz. He wasn’t going to waste it.
With his left hand Frenz was ready to strike Hendrick with the same slicing attack. In his other hand a Charger grew slowly. Hendrick leaned on the counter, his strength gone, and breathed heavily. He was backed into a corner.
He was a mess of blood. His skull was fractured from Frenz’s attacks, his leg was run clear through, his femur was chipped, his shoulder was gouged and his head thrashed in countless places. As He thought about his injuries Hendrick began to feel them, the blinding and dull pains working together. The dizzying colors that flashed through his vision. He was losing consciousness. Fast. If he stayed he’d die. But then Hendrick looked at Frenz, saw him standing there in deep-cast shadows, tall and strong and apparently uninjured with that smile on his face, that evil, disgusting, sadistic smile, and saw everything he hated. He saw a man who had destroyed Luke’s life, who had killed several Ditrinity, had tortured Sable, who had led the genocide against millions and millions of Durants and had answered to nobody. He was the embodiment of evil, a flesh-and-blood cutout of the devil himself. The only person who could kill this man was Luke. But Hendrick didn’t want to believe it. He wouldn’t believe it. He looked at Frenz and his pain was gone.
“Come on…” Frenz said in close to a whisper, his voice mockingly soothing. “you’re better than this… I’m right here.”
His head tingled. Frenz was reading his mind.
“Remember how I killed Trina?” He said darkly. “And Ayla… remember that? I know you better to know you’ve been itching to hit me back for that.”
In the shadowed corner, Hendrick’s eyes burned. His jaw was clenched. It hurt. His body seared. But Frenz was right there. And the more he talked the more those sensations intensified.
“All she was trying to do was protect Luke’s family. Went down like a true Ditrinity.” Frenz said in mock remorse. “Pretty young thing too. Almost as hot as Sable.”
Hendrick’s hands gripped the edges of the counters and crushed them into a black powder. The black ash fell between Hendrick’s fingers as his fists shook.
“Remember the, uh… the fun… that I had with her?” Frenz went on in a higher voice, his tone one of disbelief. “Already bloodied and dying? You’re seriously just going to stand there knowing I did that? It was your name she screamed, Hendrick. When I was doing it.”
Hendrick could barely control himself. His fists shook. His heart raced. The bastard didn’t know when to stop.
“Nathan… Nathan… Nathan…” Frenz said in subdued delight. Then, after a pause, Frenz cocked his head and gave Hendrick a look of mock inquisition. “…You loved each other, didn’t you?”
Hendrick yelled and hurled himself at Frenz. It was exactly what he wanted.
Frenz swung his arm across Hendrick and launched the Charger.
There was a bright flash in front of Hendrick and the air rippled, like fluorescent water. Hendrick put his hands up to stop himself against the invisible wall. He looked to the right to see who it was.
Thompson and Ranjak stood at the broken window, both with full strength and ready to fight. Thompson waved him on.
“Hendrick, come on!” He yelled. Hendrick shook his head.
“Not a chance in hell.
Frenz’s attention was split now. On the side facing Thompson and Ranjak he had set up a barrier while a barrier protected Hendrick from Frenz.
“Leave me him, he’s mine!” Hendrick yelled.
“Now THAT was gay!” Ranjak shouted.
“CAN IT!”
“HENDRICK!” Came a deeper, more intimidating voice.
Hendrick watched as Morlo and Vyvyr appeared at the backs of Thompson and Ranjak, both dirtied and bloody. Their expressions changed when they saw Frenz. Frenz grinned as though he were greeting old friends.
“And look who it is!” He exclaimed.
“Shut your mouth you whiny bitch, I’ll tear you in half.” Morlo said.
“Why don’t you come in here and show me?”
Morlo gave a cocky smile and raised his eyebrows. “Kiss my ass, pretty.”
“Nathan, another day.” Vyvyr said. He put a hand on Morlo’s arm. Morlo immediately moved towards Hendrick and lifted him up. Hendrick thrashed with what little strength he had left.
“Leave me! He’s mine!”
It didn’t take long for Morlo to get a grip on him. He dragged Hendrick through the rubble amidst his yelling, swearing and struggling.
“Morlo!” He yelled.
Morlo stepped out of the house and back into the street. Legionnaires knew they were there now and they were sprinting towards them. Twenty, maybe thirty seconds away. With Hendrick in tow Vyvyr and Morlo gave Thompson and Ranjak respectful nods.
“God speed.” Vyvyr said.
Ranjak laughed and waved them off. “You owe us for that little maneuver back at the gate.”
Bullets impacted and whistled all around them. Vyvyr and Morlo ducked down and ran. Hendrick was composed enough now to run on his own. The fresh air must’ve knocked some sense into him. With the distance between them and the two Durants Hendrick shook his head.
“As much as I hate to admit it we needed those two.”
Morlo chuckled. At their backs the voice of Ranjak echoed through the street.
“Hey Hendrick! We still got ourselves a man-date, remember!”
Hendrick looked back over his shoulder as the two figures became small black spots on the street. And it was sobering. As much as they hated to admit it they needed Thompson and Ranjak. They might’ve been cocky, arrogant, and their priorities might’ve been out of whack, but enemy of your enemy is your friend. And those two were two powerful Durants, some of the last Durants, who despised the Commune and the whole Lynch empire. It was too bad.
“They sent the special unit Rush on ahead with half the Legionnaire hot on them.” Vyvyr explained. “They’re going to come down on Rush’s tracking beacon and meet us there.”
As they sprinted through the ruined west gate of the city Hendrick shook his head. As he heard the Elemental explosions erupting behind them, Hendrick considered how long the two might be able to last against Frenz. But they were Thompson and Ra
njak taking on one man. It could be a happy ending after all.
They sprinted through the forest, leaping over fallen trees, making paths through the thick plant life towards the extraction point coordinates that had been sent to Morlo. Battlecrafts and Gunships soared just above the tree canopy, their onboard lights outlining the leaves that hung above them and casting their shadows across the dense undergrowth.
There were patrols everywhere. The lights from the Legionnaire helmets seemed like stars in the forest in number and intensity. Nightwolves prowled everywhere and it was a miracle they hadn’t been caught yet. And with his massive sniper rifle at his shoulder, Vyvyr would clear the path in front of them, the ear-shattering explosions that issued from the three foot barrel of his rifle just adding to the perpetual chaos.
Out here in the forest people were still screaming. Their yelps and cries echoed through the trees and disappeared into the darkness. The slick metal sounds of hacking metal resounded through the tree. The wet, messy noise of bloody slaughter could be heard, accompanied by raucous laughter.
A large patrol passed just in front of them. The three ducked down behind a massive fern and waited for them to pass. Through the chaotically lit darkness Hendrick looked to Morlo.
“So Price contacted you?” He asked.
Morlo nodded and pointed just up the hill. “Small gulley up there. She’s parked there with the rest of the group.”
Hendrick nodded. “And Trey?”
Morlo shook his head. Hendrick wasn’t surprised. “Had to be sure.”
There was immediate gunfire up the hill, followed by a massive explosion. The three turned immediately towards the sound. It was just over the top of the hill. Hendrick drew his combat knife and took off.
“Get up there.”
Without any concern with the patrolling Legionnaires the three ran. Morlo covered them with his chain gun, demolishing any Legionnaire who noticed them side-stepping while keeping stride with the others.