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Crimson Rain

Page 19

by Tex Leiko


  It sounded like the conclusion of an old flamenco song. Blood trickled out of the mouths of the six standing before him. And in the suffering sound of dead silence, they all fell on their faces dead before him. Surge turned and faced Zarfa.

  “That final one is called ‘heart stopper.’ I came up with it myself. So, it looks like I was able to handle those… I think you owe me five now.”

  “Right,” huffed Zarfa with his hand on the wound on his chest. He was trying to stop the bleeding. He had lost a great deal of blood in the fight and was beginning to feel weak. He was glad that the combat was over for the time being. There were bodies strewn all over the train station. The wake of destruction was massive and the smell of death was rank in the air.

  “One last matter to attend to. Did I hear you call Crimson with warning before the battle?”

  Zarfa’s heart leapt to his throat. He knew Surge had heard; he knew it constituted him as an enemy of Synaptix now.

  Why did he protect me? What is his game? Bastard.

  “Don’t forget, I can read your thoughts the same as Badger. Also, I informed Zax. It was a valiant attempt, but they will succeed in taking her down. She and that stupid little doctor are severely outnumbered. She is the only one who can fight, y’know.”

  Yeah, I know. I had to save that little guy from the gang the other night.

  “I guess since you won’t speak aloud, I will just have to talk to you this way.” Surge’s voice invaded his head.

  “So, what? Are you going to kill me now, or are you chicken? You are reading me for a reason. I assume you only kept me alive because you couldn’t deal with ranged and melee at the same time. Now that I’ve served your purpose, you plan to slaughter me like a sheep, right?”

  “Precisely!” The voice screamed so loud in his head it echoed.

  Surge began to strum; the wire appeared again. Zarfa charged ahead. At the last second, he leapt over the wire. Nothing happened; he was still intact. He came out of the air descending like a hawk on its prey. His foot stuck Surge’s guitar first.

  It was knocked out of his hands and the strap broke. As the guitar clattered on the ground, Surge reached for it as quickly as he could. Zarfa snatched it from his grasp and held it out, kicking the neck as hard as he could. It snapped in half; wood and wiring scattered everywhere. It revealed something Zarfa was already aware of. This was no regular electric guitar.

  Zarfa dropped the body of the guitar that had been in his right hand and kicked it as it was falling to the ground. The body split in half and went sliding across the floor, stopping on a mound of corpses.

  Surge pulled a gauss pistol from his side holster underneath his robe. Zarfa, as quick as lightning, knocked it from his hand with the neck of the guitar. He heard a single shot fire. One that, had he been a second slower, would have surely ripped the life from his weakened mortal shell.

  Before Surge could respond, Zarfa had grabbed him by the wrist with his right hand and had pulled him forward, giving Zarfa his back. Zarfa plunged his left elbow into his humerus. The loud snap told Zarfa the blow had done as he had intended. Surge let out a blood-curdling scream. He obviously wasn’t used to being hit in battle.

  As Surge dropped to his knees in pain, Zarfa broke the neck of the guitar over the back of his head. He dropped what was left and kicked him in the neck. Surge was planted face first into the ground, barely alive.

  “Surge, you really shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t want it to come to this. I guess this means there is now war between the Legion and Psyker Scream. You can tell all your little Synaptix buddies that right now, correct?”

  “No,” Surge coughed out, defeated and humiliated.

  “No? I thought you alerted Zax about my tipping Crimson off?”

  “I was bluffing. Our psychic link isn’t that strong. I lost communication about a day ago. I would need to call his com-link and if you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been a little busy.”

  “Right, well thanks for coming clean. I guess if I kill you here, we can simply say it was a tragic loss in the face of a Faraza ambush. Badger doesn’t need to know about my moving of a pawn piece if you remain silent.”

  Surge managed to roll over, looking Zarfa in the eyes. He was scared; it was a look that Zarfa hadn’t seen until now.

  “Please! Can’t we can work something out? Be civil!”

  “Ha! Civil? You should have thought about that before you attacked me. Funny how when things don’t go according to plan, people suddenly want to negotiate. You make me sick.”

  “But it wasn’t my—”

  Surge’s words were cut short by Zarfa stomping the soft part of his neck. His trachea collapsed like a tent and he was squirming like a worm, trying to breathe. Zarfa picked up the gun he had knocked out of Surge’s hand and pressed it to his forehead.

  “This is my mercy that I don’t let you suffocate in agony.”

  He pulled the trigger and blood, brain, and bone splattered into Zarfa’s face. Surge didn’t even twitch. He instantly stopped moving and lay still on the ground, cold. Zarfa picked up his backpack that he had set next to the speaker. He proceeded up the stairs out of the train station, covered in blood and holding the pistol in plain sight.

  No more letting my guard down. Who knows what might be waiting for me up there. I’ve got to find Zajifa and gather the Legion.

  * * * *

  Eighteen… Nineteen… Twenty. Max took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. If his hands weren’t perfect and robotic, only responding to conscious thought, he would be trembling. He burst through the door of the shed the elevator had taken him to. His eye locked onto two targets across the street on the rooftop of the apartment building that Zax and his posse were hiding out in. He fired two bursts of three shots each without even looking down the scope. His hands were perfect and steady. Both bursts hit their targets, eliminating two enemy snipers immediately.

  Max sprinted toward cover on the roof, hiding behind a large air conditioning unit. His eastern side was covered and the sniper would have to guess where he was from that angle. The sniper on the western building could still see him and was no doubt lining up a clear shot.

  Max had heard bullets whizzing past him as he ran to take cover. He heard a round crash into the air conditioning unit he was taking cover behind. The bullet hit the large fan and clinked around as the shot echoed in the distance. His eye was drawn to the target, which looked as small as an ant. In the time it took for a single heartbeat, he had raised the rifle to his eye and was looking down the scope. He saw his enemy.

  He was ugly, wearing a black leather jacket with chains and spikes decorating it in the gaudiest fashion. He was laying prone, a large cigar smoldering between his teeth. Tough guy biker shades rested askew upon his face and he had a mohawk he must have thought made him look like a real badass.

  The sniper was grinning as Max could see his finger slowly squeezing the trigger. It was too late; Max had already fired. Three more rounds came with tumultuous fury. The first round pegged the sniper in the shoulder. The second, in the neck. The third found its spot nestled right between his eyes. He was never even able to fire his shot, one that would have surely wounded Max.

  One more… One more… Stay calm, Max, stay calm.

  He had quickly killed three of his four targets with ease, but he was still nervous. Still scared that Crimson and Luther may be on the ground dealing with rounds coming from above while he plotted his next move. Max ran out from his cover and knelt facing the east.

  The sun stood behind Max, painting him as a perfect dark silhouette. He quickly spotted his last target and his last target had spotted him. Max could see him down his scope, squinting, trying to not be blinded by the sun as he lined up his shot on Max. Max’s eye had locked on and he adjusted his arms for another precise shot. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger, as did his enemy. A bullet whizzed past Max’s face, scraping his right cheek and causing a minor cut that would bleed worse than it really was.


  Max’s burst found its spot dead on. Three rounds straight to the enemy’s head. The enemy sniper that had been lying down already went limp immediately. Max’s work with these four was done. He rushed over to the north side of the building and looked down. He saw Crimson and Luther exiting the building on one side of the street while the seventeen were spilling out of the building on the other, taking cover behind hovercraft or whatever they could find.

  Max looked down his scope at Crimson. She quickly took cover behind a car and started laying down suppressive fire from both of her guns. Luther charged into the center of the street, his four arms aiming in different locations, wildly sweeping bursts of shots toward the enemy.

  A hovercraft that several of the Psyker goons were hiding behind erupted in a ball of smoke and fire, killing six of the seventeen. It had taken too many rounds in the fury of their rain of bullets. Two men sprang from behind cover and began firing on Luther. Several rounds hit his body, knocking chunks off of it. He directed his guns toward them and, in a barrage of bullets, tore their bodies to shreds.

  There was another cluster of men hiding behind the columns of the entrance to the apartment building. Crimson pulled out a de-ionizing grenade from her belt and pulled the pin. The grenade had been designed to break down and turn to dust organic particles, but would leave objects such as concrete, glass, and steel alone.

  The grenade found its mark and the men couldn’t scramble out from behind their cover in time. It exploded nearly the moment it had landed and in a white flash, they were turned to smoke, leaving only a pile of clothing and their weapons behind.

  There were only four men left and one of them was Zax. He had no intention of going down without a fight. He commanded the other two soldiers to try and flank Luther while he and his partner tried to get to Crimson’s flank. The two who were going after Luther took cover behind a short concrete barricade; they began firing upon him from his side.

  Several bullets hit, destroying one of his carbon fiber legs and nearly dropping him to the ground. His frame had been made light for close range combat. She did, after all, only use him to train in melee and martial arts. As his large frame struggled to remain upright on one leg, he faced the two who had maimed him.

  Another torrential downpour of bullets rent into pieces the concrete barricade they were hiding behind. Dust mixed with blood misted the air where they had once been keeping cover and Luther fell to the ground. His balance mechanisms were having trouble compensating for all the damage he had taken.

  Max targeted the partner of Zax and let a burst go. He dropped dead, revealing their location. It caught Crimson’s attention and she spotted Zax. She took aim and let a bullet fly in his direction; he did the same. Hers hit his gun hand, blowing it off. It had been shredded to strips of confetti by the bullet and Zax dropped to his knees. Crimson stomped over to Zax and kicked him in the chest, planting him backwards to the ground.

  He laid there on his back, terror filling his eyes and blood spattering his face. He was trying to break free from Crimson’s combat boot pinning him to the hot, uncomfortable concrete on his back. He tried hitting her ankle with his good hand. She laughed maniacally and pressed him into the ground harder.

  “You’re Zax, Badger’s second in command, right?” she questioned, pressing down hard enough to force the air out of his lungs.

  “Yea… Yeah, I am. Let me go or there will be hell to pay!”

  “What kind of hell? Like, he might try to kill me? Oh wait…”

  “I can make it worth your time!”

  “Oh really, how do you propose?” she asked, unzipping her hood and letting down her mask.

  Zax was being irrational. People tended to be that way when they were trying to save themselves. He was about to make offers that meant nothing to her, but in his mind, they would be worth considering.

  “Money… And I’ll get Badger to leave you alone…”

  “I don’t need money, and what got you here is you taking orders from him, not the other way around. You can communicate with him telepathically, right?”

  “Yeah! Yeah! I can!”

  “Good, you tell him this. Tell him I am going to let you go, but first, I want him to know that I killed his pathetic little assassination party. Can you do that?”

  “Yes!”

  Zax was silent for a moment as he communicated with Badger. The look on Zax’s face told them that Badger probably wasn’t thrilled to hear the news.

  “Okay, now that you have his attention, tell him I received a tip from a friend. He’ll know what it means.”

  Zax told Badger; it was apparent what she meant by it.

  “Now tell him I lied,” she said as she held her submachine gun over his body and unloaded the last of her rounds into him, riddling Zax’s body with holes against the pavement.

  She had no idea what Badger may be thinking, but she knew he would be able to sense the severing of the psychic bond. She knew there would be wrath and vengeance directed at her, but she didn’t care. It was Badger who sought to draw first blood, not her.

  Max had made it down to the street too late to hear any of the conversation between her and Zax. When he arrived, he was panting and happy to see that Crimson had lived through the onslaught.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t shoot more from up there, ‘Deadeye,’” she said sarcastically.

  “You looked to be enjoying yourself. I didn’t want to ruin your fun.”

  “It’s good you didn’t. I would have been upset.”

  “I know.”

  “Let’s get Luther back inside. He will need repairs and an upgrade if we keep taking him outside like this.”

  “After he’s in…can we get some real food to eat? I am really sick of those bars.”

  * * * *

  “She is going to pay!” Badger screamed at those who were near him.

  He went on a rampage, destroying whatever furniture was nearby. He was kicking things and hitting them until bones in his hands broke. He was acting like a five-year-old who hadn’t gotten what he wanted. Nobody had a mind to care, though. They were all his subservient drones.

  Anything Badger said aloud was for his own good; there was nobody around him anymore who could give him an intelligible response. He and Zax were friends. That was how he was able to convince Synaptix to allow Zax to keep his free will and be a commander of the army. Now, his friend was dead, and his other companion was out of range for him to be able to communicate with.

  Badger went into an office at the back of the Psyker warehouse and sat down at a terminal. He linked in and contacted the main powers at Synaptix. There were five with positions of authority above him.

  “Zax, the second in command, is now dead. Surge is away on an assignment and out of range for me to contact. What are my orders?”

  He disconnected from the terminal and waited for a command to come into his head. They had always contacted him via psychic communication. He, however, did not have access to their minds. He knew his place. Shortly, it came in. He sat back at the terminal and sent them a message back.

  “Understood, I shall proceed as you command” is all that it said.

  * * * *

  “They should be back by now, Ghast,” Sarah said.

  “You’re right, should be,” he muttered.

  “So why aren’t they?”

  “I just received word from a scout we had sent. They’re all dead.”

  “All of them? The Ilithids too?”

  “Yes,” Ghast said, tapping his foot behind the table, clearly aggravated.

  “Are you sure he was traveling alone?”

  “We checked the security cams; he got off alone. Made a brief visit to a terminal, then he and three others killed the whole force. All sixty slain, he killed a good majority of them by himself. Then the man who appeared to be with him turned on him. Your brother crushed him like he was nothing, despite the fact several of the Ilithids had managed to wound him pretty badly.”

  “
So where is he?”

  “Don’t you think if I knew I would be pursuing? He is injured, now is the best chance we would have to be able to take him down and end him!”

  Sarah sat staring at Ghast; she was upset. Zarfa had eluded them once again. She was sick of it. She hadn’t been on the battlefield in months and it was eating at her. She needed the taste of blood in her mouth.

  “You have sat idly by for too long! You withdrew me from raids and attacks and told me to be patient. You told me you would handle getting my brother. Well now it is too late for that. Now it is time that he dies. Our only chance of capturing him is playing on his emotions. It’s time he sees me again. I am sick of him being one step ahead every time. The next time we strike, I am joining the battlefield and you, for your part, you are getting out there too. I know you have the skill required to kill or capture him and yet you’ve hidden down here behind a desk! I am sick of it!”

  “I am in charge of Faraza. It is your father’s orders that I do not go above!”

  “I will deal with Father. You do as I say. The next attack, we are both going to the surface. I will not allow this incompetence to permeate Faraza any longer.”

  Ghast didn’t argue, just stared down his nose at Sarah. He hated having her talk to him this way. He tried with all of his might to keep from turning red hot with rage. He felt that she was belittling him.

  “Oh, and one more thing. We are sending a party of raiders to scout. Tonight! We find my brother, we strike. There is no way he will escape, not with him this badly injured. We might even capture him rather than kill him. Then I can have some real fun.”

  “Very well,” Ghast grumbled as he conveyed the command to a raiding party.

  He and Sarah got suited up for combat and joined the raiding party. There were eighty in total, including Sarah and Ghast. Each would take thirty-eight members and split up, searching through the city, looking for Zarfa.

  The commands were clear, none of the normal business. No pillaging, kidnapping, or murder. They were to be as incognito as possible; their objective was finding Zarfa or flushing him out. Sarah would do things her way, and leave it to Ghast to do things his. She was determined to be in possession of her brother’s body by the end of tonight, dead or alive.

 

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