Fast

by Shane M Brown

Model Complete…

  Model Complete…

  Model Complete…

  Her eyes widened. This was it. The answer was there waiting for her. She just needed a few more seconds at the computer, and then she might have a way to help David!

  But right now she couldn’t even get to the computer, which was in plain sight of the pool room. She didn’t want to find out the hard way if the plexiglass barrier was bulletproof.

  But I will if I have to. I have to get the answers. I need to get up, download the results to my tablet, and then…what’s that sound?

  She took another look and saw a dozen punctured scuba tanks releasing their contents.

  Then she saw the creature.

  Oh no. The creature came through the hatch and paused. It didn’t take a genius to see Forest was double-dipped in deep shit. If he moved from cover, he’d be shot. But his cover itself was about to attract the worst kind of attention.

  The creature only paused for a second. Then it charged straight towards the Marine.

  Vanessa leapt up and bashed her fists on the plexiglass barrier.

  ‘HEY-HEY-HEY,’ she hollered, pounding her fists on the plexiglass like an insane ice hockey spectator.

  Her plan worked too well.

  A second creature appeared through the north hatch and launched itself towards her piece of plexiglass.

  ‘Oh, crap,’ she said, backing from the plexiglass. I’ve attracted another one!

  The creature smacked its head straight into the plexiglass. Vanessa heard the material start cracking away from the ceiling.

  Across the pool room, she saw the first creature plough into the scuba trolley, and then the trolley started tipping onto Forest….

  #

  King stalked the two gunmen.

  The gunmen had become separated from Bora’s party. Now they were looking for a way to reach the diving arena.

  Stragglers from the pack are fair game.

  King intended to ensure they never reached the diving arena. He followed them through two rooms and a corridor, waiting for the opportunity for two clean head shots. Taking his boots off had been a good idea. It had made it easier to follow the gunmen quietly. He’d also removed his body armor. It was useless against the super-bullets, and he could move more freely without it. As he entered the room behind them, the men listened at the next hatch.

  They kept perfectly still, intent on detecting any danger beyond the hatch.

  King saw his chance. No obstacles blocked his line of fire. The entire room was filled with plants on transparent shelves. The shelves lined every wall. It looked like some kind of seedling bank. I might not get this opportunity again.

  He raised his pistol.

  The man on the right cycled the hatch.

  King sighted on the man’s skull.

  The gunman cracked the hatch a fraction, then suddenly shouted and locked his knees, throwing his full weight against the hatch. Water surged around the partially open hatch. The man repositioned his legs and braced himself, straining for traction on the floor and using all his strength to wrestle against the oval door.

  It proved too much for him. Knee-high white water forced the aperture open. The second gunman shouldered his weapon and threw his own body weight into the struggle.

  King couldn’t have had a better target. His training told him what he should do. He should take them down as quickly and efficiently as the situation allowed.

  But he didn’t do that.

  He holstered his pistol and stood for a moment, watching the men winning the fight against the door an inch at a time.

  This is for Marlin.

  He crossed the room like a wraith, drawing closer to their backs, feeling the water swell around his ankles. He stopped behind the men like he was waiting for his turn to pass through the hatch.

  The men gave one last desperate shove and then cycled the hatch shut. They stood panting for a moment, leaning on the hatch. Then the one on the right turned around to find the hulking figure of King waiting an arm’s length away.

  King stood a head taller than both of them.

  The man chocked out a surprised cry and grabbed for his dangling assault rifle.

  King attacked the moment he made eye-contact. He lunged forward and wrapped his hands around the man’s head. Using his full body weight, he smashed the man’s head into the hatch. Skull collided with unforgiving steel. King felt the man’s body go limp from the neck down. It wasn’t enough to kill him. King wasn’t ready to kill him yet.

  As the man’s head bounced off the steel, King twisted to his left and smashed the point of his elbow straight into the second terrorist’s surprised face. The man’s right eye-socket collapsed. The force sent him careening away from the hatch, lurching out with his arms for balance.

  King snatched the man’s left wrist from it flailing path through the air. He cupped the man’s elbow with the other hand and twisted savagely. The torque transferred right up the man’s arm, twisting his entire body under King’s grasp. The shoulder popped free of its socket.

  As the terrorist screamed, King swept through with his right foot, knocking the man’s feet out from under him. The terrorist thumped down onto his back in the water. As he tried to stand, King stomped his foot on the man’s throat.

  Barefoot, King felt the honeycomb crunch of the man’s trachea collapsing.

  King turned slowly, deliberately, to his right, drawing his pistol and facing the first gunman side on. The man struggled to his feet, shaking off the effects of his head ramming the hatch. He searched groggily for his target.

  King fired three times. Shoulder, stomach, chest. The third shot emptied the pistol and ended the terrorist.

  He holstered his pistol and listened. What he heard, instead of the sound of approaching creatures, was the click of the hatch behind him closing. King had just used that hatch to surprise the terrorists.

  I’ve been followed.

  The irony wasn’t lost on King. He turned to discover who hunted the hunter.

  Krisko Borivoj stood just inside the hatch.

  Bora stepped into the room, smirking at King. He cocked one eyebrow at the two dead men. ‘Been busy?’

  King didn’t answer. He scanned Bora for weapons. He’s unarmed. He’s out of ammunition, just like me. This is going to be hand-to-hand unless one of us can reach the men’s assault rifles first.

  King knew that turning his back on an enemy like Bora, even to retrieve a weapon, would be a fatal mistake. Bora looked big like a weight-lifter, not a body builder. His every move announced a massive core of strength. And Bora’s body-language said he knew all about the rifles lying just submerged under the blood-clouding water.

  Bora likewise scanned King. He took a controlled step forward, ready for anything. ‘I’ve been looking for you. It’s good to finally meet on our own like this.’

  King couldn’t help himself. ‘Well now you’ve found me, fucker.’

  Bora smiled a deadly smile. ‘Now I’ve found you. So who the hell are you? What’s your name, Marine?’

  What’s my name? The truth suddenly occurred to King. He really means he’s been looking for me. Why? Of course - the stunt when I threw the chair. He was leading the party that got trapped in the movie cinema. He’s taking this personally.

  Bora nodded as though reading King’s mind. ‘That’s right. I don’t care if I don’t get out alive. As long as you don’t either. I’ve been looking forward to this.’

  ‘How’d you escape the cinema?’ asked King, genuinely interested.

  Bora nodded his chin at the two dead gunmen. ‘The hard way. Your first mistake was throwing that chair. You’re going to pay for that.’

  King replied evenly, ‘Your first mistake was closing that hatch behind you. Now you’re in my world. These two were just for warm up.’

  King was done with tough talking. I don’t have time for this. My orders are to distract the terrorists and then get back to the diving arena. I should be back there already.<
br />
  He had to take Bora down quickly.

  King feinted to the left, pretending to lunge at a submerged rifle, but then recovered as Bora committed to an interception. With that simple maneuver, King had Bora off balance.

  Or he thought he had.

  Bora’s right fist was a blur, a stunning uppercut that lifted King off his feet. King slammed down full length backwards into the water.

  Damn it, that was a hard hit.

  King had never been punched so hard or so fast in all his life. He’d bitten his tongue. He was amazed at Bora’s speed. He shook off the punch-haze and got to his feet. Lucky shot. I’m gonna take this son-of-a-bitch down.

  Bora hadn’t even moved in to take advantage of King’s prone position. As King rose to his feet, tasting the blood pooling under his tongue, Bora massaged the knuckles on his right hand.

  ‘What else you got?’ he taunted. ‘Let’s see some of that Special Forces training. Come on, I know you’ve got it in you?’ Bora’s sarcastic tone equated ‘Special Forces’ with ‘weak pussy’. He pointed at the two dead gunmen. ‘Or are you only good at sneaking up on people from behind?’

  King lunged out with a fast left fist. He caught nothing but air. Bora dodged lightly from the blow and then came back with a left-right combination that had King’s head spinning. Before Bora could follow through, King turned on his hip and shot out a powerful side-kick.

  This one has to connect, thought King, but Bora twisted on the spot, avoiding the kick and catching King’s outstretched leg.

  King saw it happening, but had already committed his full body weight to the attack, hoping the unexpected kick would change the dynamics of the fight.

  Bora gripped King by the ankle and heaved his leg straight upwards, reefing King off the floor and smashing him back down into the water.

  King was prone on the floor again. Again, Bora didn’t move in to take advantage. King noticed that Bora wore an old hunting dagger strapped to his belt. He could have used the dagger while King lay prone.

  What is he doing?

  King rose shakily to his feet. He was in big trouble. Bora moved like a professional fighter. Like some kind of combat-deity or the champion of a hard man contest. King had met his match. Bora was easily more than his match. This was a totally new experience for King.

  I’m in big trouble here. He’s all over me. I need to get him into a position where my strength will count. I need to get him close.

  Bora pulled something from his fatigues pocket. It was something small, completely concealed in his hand.

  King watched the hand warily, wondering what the hell was coming next. Bora opened his hand, palm down, and a set of dog tags dangled off his thumb.

  Bora ran his other hand along the chain until the tags were between his left thumb and forefinger. He made a big show of reading out the details on the dog tags.

  ‘MARTINEZ, Ramon P. Corporal, FAST.’ Bora swung the dog tags left and right like a hypnotist. ‘Friend of yours, Sergeant?’

  Marlin’s dog tags.

  King felt like the epicenter of all the hate in the world. He had never hated anyone so much in his life. He didn’t know it was possible to hate someone this much.

  ‘I thought so,’ smirked Bora. ‘I killed him, you know. I burnt him to a crisp. I heard him screaming up there in the ceiling.’

  Bora suddenly flicked his wrist and jerked the swinging dog tags up into his hand. In the same motion he lunged forward to punch King. The fist clenching the dog tags flew straight at King’s head.

  This time, the attack didn’t connect. King caught Bora’s wrist, pulling the attack to an abrupt stop.

  King had caught Bora’s fist in midair, locking his arm there.

  King slowly twisted, turning Bora’s hand outwards. Bora smiled slightly at the interception, and then flashed in with his other hand.

  King caught Bora’s other wrist.

  Bora might have been a combat-deity, but King was a big bad brute who now held his best friend’s killer. King slowly pulled Bora’s arms apart, pushing those dangerous hands away, and drawing Bora in closer and closer and closer….

  ‘My turn,’ whispered King into Bora’s face.

  King snapped his head forward, cracking his forehead into Bora’s face. As Bora’s head rocked backwards, King let go of both wrists and slapped his palms inwards with all the strength in his massive chest. His hands collided with perfect timing on either side of Bora’s head. King felt the water on his palms helping to make a perfect seal over Bora’s ears.

  The sudden increase of air pressure in a person’s inner ear was enough to incapacitate some men, but King kept hold of Bora’s head and delivered another stiff head butt before Bora had any chance to shake off the stunning effects of the first two attacks.

  The second head butt rocked Bora back like he was on the deck of a pitching ship.

  Now. Give it everything you’ve got. King slammed his fists over and over into Bora, pounding the man backwards. Bora struggled to keep his footing under the rain of powerful attacks. King finished with a round house right-hander that should have knocked the bolt out of Bora’s ass and seen the man fall to pieces.

  Bora spun off the big hit, managing to keep his footing but facing away from King.

  King wrapped his right arm around Bora neck from behind and locked him in a choke hold. His mouth was near Bora’s left ear, which he could see was running with blood. King hissed, ‘Time to lie down and die, you bastard.’

  Bora wrapped his hands around King’s forearm and jerked hard enough to steal a gasping breath.

  ‘That’s-the-spirit,’ slurred Bora. ‘Now-we’re-fighting.’

  King yanked the dog tags from Bora’s fingers, but there was something King had forgotten.

  Bora lifted his right leg and crashed his boot heel down….

  Straight on the top of King’s bare foot. King felt the small bones in his foot splinter. The pain shot up his leg like he had stumbled into a bear trap.

  Bora curled forwards, pulling King off his feet, then charged backwards, smashing King into the wall.

  Or that was what King expected.

  He’d forgotten about the shelves, which smashed into his kidneys like someone had struck him with a crowbar.

  Pain burst up King’s back, momentarily masking the agony from his foot. He hardly felt Bora break free of his choke hold. He lurched forward, away from the wall, and momentarily couldn’t see Bora.

  Searching, he snapped his face to the right. Bora had torn a shelf off the wall and was swinging it with two hands.

  The shelf swung straight into King’s head, smashing apart in his face. He careened face first down into the water.

  King landed flat out in water, hurt bad.

  Cold water lapped his facial wounds. He could hardly feel any part of his body that wasn’t in agony. His face must have been a mess. The plastic shards had probably sliced to the bone. It felt like the impact had peeled back the flesh over his right eye. When he opened his eyes, his vision was blurry.

  Stand up, Marine. Die on your own feet, not lying at his feet like a dog.

  King forced his knees up under his body. He heard Bora’s footsteps circling him like a curious predator inspecting incapacitated prey. As he brought his hands in, his fingers moved over something jagged. It was the broken edge of the plastic shelf. King wrapped his fingers around the plastic shard.

  Just get up. Get…up.

  He rose unsteadily to his feet, swaying over his damaged foot. Bora stopped in front of him, between King and the hatch.

  The same position in which they started the fight.

  King held the broken edge of the plastic shelf.

  Bora looked down at the jagged spike, and then drew his own hunting dagger.

  King couldn’t believe it. He wants more of a fight?

  King lifted the plastic spike and stabbed weakly at Bora’s chest. Bora caught the slow attack and then swept his hunting knife across King’s torso. King felt the bla
de slicing across his stomach. He saw the blade change direction and start coming upwards.

  Bora plunged the hunting knife straight through King’s forearm. The plastic shard slipped from his grasp. Bora jerked out the knife and lowered it to his side. He still didn’t make the killing strike.

  At that moment, the hatch behind Bora burst open.

  The creature filled the hatch like an apparition from hell.

  Neither man moved. King wasn’t sure if he even could move. It took everything he had just to stay on his feet. He looked back to Bora, but Bora hadn’t moved either. In fact, Bora looked like he’d been half-expecting the creature.

  King realized what Bora had done.

  He has been waiting for the creature to arrive. That’s why he’s left me alive. He was going to leave me trapped in the room like I trapped him in the cinema. So why hasn’t he left already?

  King noticed a drop of blood dripping from Bora’s left earlobe.

  His ears! He can’t hear anymore! It must have affected him worse than I thought. He didn’t realize the creature was busting into the room until it was too late to escape.

  Through the pain wracking his body, King had one thought. I’ve failed my team.

  He felt disgusted at himself for being overconfident and letting his companions down. He should have taken out the two terrorists quickly and then headed straight back to the diving arena.

  Now he and Bora were stuck face-to-face. If either of them moved, they would have the creature on them in a heartbeat.

  Bora just stared at King, his face unreadable, but his eyes showing that his mind raced. He was gambling that the creature would get distracted and move on.

  King reached a decision. Bora was too dangerous to ever let leave this room alive.

  Slowly, King began raising his hands out to the sides. He forced his arms out straight. His right arm burnt fiercely. Both his arms shook, but he kept them moving steadily apart until he was standing with his arms out-stretched on either side. Marlin’s dog tags hung from his left hand like rosary beads. King locked his eyes on Bora’s, and then let himself fall straight backwards like he was making a snow-angel.

  King saw Bora’s mouth take on an ‘O’ of surprise, and then King crashed rigidly backwards onto the water.