by Lucien Black
There was no response.
“Confirm, did you receive my last message,” Hunter said.
“Confirmed, Carl,” Calin said calmly. “What do we do?”
“Not sure,” Hunter responded. “Do we have anyone nearby; I certainly can’t take this squad on my own.”
There was no response. After a few seconds, Calin spoke, “Get out of there Carl. Return to base.”
“What!” Hunter retorted. “You want me to leave them here?”
“No that is not what I want, but I don’t know what other choice we have. You taking them on alone would be a suicide mission and I can’t afford to lose you too. We can always break them out but a rescue mission will take time to rally.”
“Screw you Calin,” Hunter said as he tossed the communication device across the car.
Rage boiled inside the aging man. To think that Calin would let his own sister become a prisoner of the Protectorate as well as the children baffled Hunter. Not willing to listen to Calin’s instructions and certainly not willing to leave his friends behind, Carl Hunter stepped from the van and walked to the back of the vehicle. Once there, he opened the back doors and climbed inside. He began to grab as many weapons as he could, and loaded himself up for the fight ahead. A black duffel bag sat on the floor and Hunter grabbed it and filled it with ammunition, grenades and small arms. It would be hard for him to lug the bag with him, but he hoped a few more doses of neuro-stim would help him along.
Hunter tossed the bag to the ground outside the van and climbed down. As he closed the door, he heard a noise behind him. He spun around but as he did, something came at him in a blur and with a thud, struck him against his head. Hunter’s body dropped to the ground in a heap, blood dripped from the fresh wound on his head.
Three men all dressed in tattered and dirty clothing walked up and surveyed their handiwork. One of the men had a long block of wood where his left arm should have been; splattered with a small red spot located at the top. The man’s arm morphed back into that of a normal arm and he wiped the blood on his torn shirt.
“He doesn’t look like one of the PSF’s,” one of the men asked.
“Let’s take him back to Percival, he’ll know what to do,” the other man said.
Chapter 31
“I can’t believe you’re going along with this,” Sean Gartner yelled at Sara Scott. Nearly twenty minutes had elapsed since Carnal appeared in the sewers and revealed to the team that he was a double agent helping Calin against the Protectorate. Sara reluctantly accepted Carnal’s help, but Sean, one of Sara’s resistance commandos had a hard time accepting the villain’s help.
“He gave me the password that Calin and I agreed upon,” Sara said as she gathered her gear, tired of the exchange with Sean.
“For all you know, Calin could be dead. Maybe they beat the password out of him,” Sean said.
Sara grew angry at the man’s comment and said, “We are out of time and out of options, we have no choice but to trust him. Now move.”
“Is that an order?” Sean asked.
“Yes, soldier, it is very much an order,” Sara said face to face with Sean Gartner. “Now shut up and take point.”
Sean was angry but he was taught to take orders from his superiors and in the Resistance, Sara was considered his superior officer. Sean grabbed his gear and trudged ahead through the tunnels towards the junction where Carnal stood.
“Stay close,” Carnal said. If anything happens, the safest place is behind me.” Sean said nothing in response to Carnal. Carnal shrugged and walked forward into the tunnels.
Sara turned and waved the rest of the team, Jack and the children forward. As they walked by, Sara rubbed the heads of one of the little boys and smiled at him tenderly.
After a few minutes of walking through the tunnels, Jack turned to Sara and said, “You’re man isn’t too happy.”
“He’s a soldier and he follows orders. You should know how that goes,” she said pointing to the stripes on Jack’s jacket.
Jack glanced at his arm and then forward and said, “Where I come from, I wasn’t much of a soldier.”
“Where exactly is it that you come from,” Sara said.
Jack took a deep breath and was about to respond when Carnal raised his arm and motioned for everyone to stop. The team took defensive positions and readied their weapons. Carnal walked forward slowly and stopped at a tunnel junction. He waited a few seconds and then amazingly, his face began to transform into a more reptilian snake like face. No one saw the change, but Carnal was sure it would spook them. The snake like form allowed him to take advantage of the heat sensitive pits that ran along his face, which acted like a form of infrared vision and revealed the heat signatures of those around him. Suddenly, Mongrel jumped from the darkness towards Carnal.
Carnal’s senses gave him a split second to react before Mongrel’s attack. He partially transformed his skin into reptilian scales and his hands into claws, and caught his assailant in mid air and tossed him down the tunnel. Mongrel splashed into the water and scrambled to his feet. When he turned, Carnal was ready, his face transformed into that of a Komodo dragon. Carnal screamed loudly, a yellow forked tongue dangled from his mouth and clawed hands ready to fight. Mongrel growled and charged towards Carnal. When he was in striking distance, Mongrel threw two quick punches which thudded hard against Carnal’s tough skin. Carnal lunged forward and bit down hard on Mongrels left arm. Mongrel groaned in pain and with his right fist, pounded on Carnal’s head.
Suddenly, a gust of wind roared to life and slammed into both Carnal and Mongrel as they were fighting. The two men careened through the tunnel, landed in the water and slid a few feet before stopping. Gale stepped forward into the tunnel, followed by the rest of the Protectorate Elite.
Gale laughed childishly and Lacerate spoke, “Nice work, Gale. ”
Card walked forward into the tunnel and said, “You were right about Carnal,” Card said.
Sara’s team moved forward around the children and aimed their weapons at the Protectorate team. Carnal and Mongrel were between Sara’s and Card’s team, both struggled to get to their feet.
“What do we do now,” Sean said.
“I think it’s time to fight,” Jack said.
Chapter 32
It had been nearly two hours since Director Sam Turner arrived at the Protectorate Headquarters at Fort Sumter. When his meeting with Purge was over, guards escorted him swiftly out of the building and back to his limo. The driver closed the door behind Sam as he entered the car. A few minutes later, they were en route back to Washington DC.
Sam loosened his tie, undid the first button on his shirt, and slumped back into the seat. His hair was slightly disheveled and he looked exhausted. The driver, as he knew was on the Protectorate payroll and certainly not a confidant. Turner spoke, “I’m going to close the window and try to get some sleep on our way back.”
The driver simply nodded.
As the window closed, Sam pulled a flask from his jacket and took two long swigs. He replaced the cap on the flask and dropped it on the seat next to him. Sam then reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Inside, he flipped through the pictures of his wife and children. He paused to smile and reminisce about the past. He came upon his wedding photo and smiled.
“How I miss you,” he said to the picture of his wife, who passed away nearly four years earlier. “You would be disappointed in me, Marilyn.”
Sam dropped the wallet and picked up the flask. He removed the top and dropped it next to his wallet. He began to take long draws off the flask.
“I’ve failed Marilyn,” he said. “And now I know the true price of my failure.”
He drank again and whispered, “Churchill said it best…never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.” He leaned back and drank the remaining liquid from the flask. When it was empty, he dropped the flask on the seat next to him and began to weep openly.
*
“We have scheduled Director Turner’s news conference for tomorrow morning, 10 a.m.,” Zealot said.
“Perfect,” Purge said. “Is everything ready to go? I want to make sure the American people get the full taste of what’s to come.”
Zealot responded, “Everything is in order on our end. The stage is set; we just simply need to pull the trigger. What about the Resistance?”
“After tonight, the Resistance will no longer be a problem. We shall destroy them from within…as his words guide us to do so. Even in his absence we will be victorious.”
Zealot smiled and nodded.
“Genocide,” Purge said.
The man stepped forward.
“Contact Defiler and give her the green light to proceed,” Purge said.
Genocide bowed slightly, walked around the table and exited the conference room.
“The people of the United States won’t know what’s hit them,” Purge said with a sharp smile.
Chapter 33
Hunter’s eyes fluttered open and the sudden rush of pain caused his head to throb. Dried blood lined the gash on his forehead. He wasn’t bleeding anymore but it hurt like hell. He raised his head slowly and carefully to survey his surroundings. He was in a small cave, surrounded by rock. At the far end, an opening and two men stood guard just outside the cave. Hunter moved his hand slowly and checked to see if his gear was confiscated. “Damn,” he said under his breath.
Just then, Hunter noticed the two men outside the cave sharpen their stance and abruptly move away from the opening. He also heard the sound of footsteps, though one was louder and more pronounced, which indicated the person that approached had a limp. A second later, a man bent down and entered the cave where Hunter was being held. He was a tall man, maybe 6’6” with a muscular build. He wore tattered blue jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, the hood pulled over his head. Hunter noticed immediately he was barefoot and was shocked when he noticed the man’s left foot resembled a horse’s hoof. As he sat down in front of Hunter, the man extended his left leg and let the hoof rest outstretched. Hunter opened his eyes fully and looked up at the man.
“Ah, I thought you would be awake by now,” the man said as he pulled back his hood and revealed a poorly cut, shaved hair cut with tufts of longer hair in places. His eyes were dark and sunken in to his face.
“Who are you?” Hunter asked.
“The question is who are you?” the man replied. “My men found you wandering on our lands.”
“The Wilds aren’t populated,” Hunter said. “I ask again who are you?”
The man smiled and extended his right hand in a gesture of friendship. Hunter looked at the man’s hand and then back at his eyes. The hand had only three thick digits, as opposed to the normal five on the human hand. “My name, trespasser, is Percival and my people claim the Wilds as home.”
“You’re people,” Hunter said as he stared back at the man.
“That’s right. My people are called the Remnant and we are the byproduct of the Protectorate superpower experiments. When one of their recipients cannot withstand the transference process, they toss us like yesterday’s trash. We are the leftovers if you will”
“Were you a victim?” Hunter asked.
“A victim…no I am their apostle,” Percival said and pulled his hand back. “I’ve given them a home and a purpose. I taught them how to recover both physically and mentally. But, most of all, I have given them hope.”
“What did they do to you,” Hunter asked.
“The Protectorate blessed me with a strength and toughness beyond any mortal man. I could carry weight far into the tons and withstand bullets and edged weapons against my flesh, but those perks came with devastating side effects,” he said in reference to his hand and leg. “Now friend, I’ve shared much with you and I believe the ball is in your court.”
Hunter glared at the man for another moment and surveyed the abnormalities on the man’s body. He slowly rose to his feet; his bones ached and his head still throbbed. When he stood, Hunter reached into his jacket, released his prosthetic arm and tossed it to the ground in front of Percival. He then said, “My name is Carl Hunter, Sgt. US Army and member of the Resistance. The Protectorate did that to me.”
“How did it happen,” Percival asked.
“A fight with one of the Protectorate Elite,” Hunter said. “A knife wielder cut me clean through the bone and nearly killed me.”
Percival rose to his feet and hunched low in the tight space of the cave. He stared at Hunter for a few seconds and then placed his three-fingered hand on his shoulder. “It is a pleasure Carl Hunter,” Percival said. Hunter nodded.
“Now, that doesn’t explain what you were doing in the Wilds,” Percival said.
“The leader of our group received a tip that the Protectorate was after a group of children that were hiding in the city. We launched a rescue mission but the Protectorate showed up a day early. They were able to get to the sewers and my rendezvous with them was to take place here in the Wilds, at that sewer junction. When I arrived, I found it heavily fortified by the PSF. My friends are heading for a trap and I’ve got to help them.”
Percival pursed his lips and thought for a moment. He then spoke, “Then, Carl Hunter of the Resistance, I pledge the help of the Remnant. How much time do we have?”
“Not much, I don’t know how long I was out,” Hunter said.
“I’ll gather my best men,” Percival said as he slumped to leave the cave. Hunter followed. Percival turned and said, “I think you forgot something,” then pointed at Hunter’s missing limb.
Both men laughed aloud.
Chapter 34
“I think it’s time to fight,” Jack said.
The scene was ugly. Sara, Sean and the other two men on her team focused their weapons and lights down the tunnel towards Card and his crew. Sara had faced the Protectorate Security Force, but never the Elite. Her team was human; there was no way they could survive.
Several feet ahead, Carnal and Mongrel both struggled to get to their feet after the blast of air knocked them both to the ground. Water rippled around them as Mongrel was the first to recover. He rose to his feet, shook the cobwebs off as he walked towards Carnal, intent on killing the reptilian shape shifter. He reached down, grabbed Carnal’s stringy brown hair, and pulled his head back. Just as Mongrel was about to strike, Carnal transformed into a six foot Komodo Dragon and caught Mongrel’s arm. Carnal’s sharp teeth tore through the limb; muscle, sinew and bone crunched under the pressure of the strong jaw. Mongrel’s blood curdling scream rang through the tunnels as blood spurted from the open wound.
Like a predator, Carnal launched himself up from the water, tackled Mongrel to the ground, and pinned him under the water. As Mongrel struggled to fight Carnal’s relentless attack, blood mixed with the water and sewage. Carnal eviscerated the man and in a few seconds, there was nothing left of Mongrel but a lifeless carcass. Carnal stepped back away from the body, his reptilian face covered in blood, and growled with excitement from the kill.
Sara and her team watched in shock and horror as Carnal made quick work of his former associate. Lacerate screamed from the tunnel, “Traitorous bastard!” He then flung a knife through the air, which hit Carnal’s scaly hide and bounced into the water with a splash. Carnal turned around slowly and released a raspy shriek.
Sara turned to Jack and said, “Get the kids back into the tunnels; we’ll try to hold them off.” Sara’s mind was awash with the turmoil of the last few minutes, and too distracted to make rash decisions. The team, on their own authority, opened fire on the Protectorate. Bullets whizzed by Carnal and headed for Card and his crew. Gale, the Protectorate weather manipulator, stepped forward and raised both of her arms before her. A second later, a wall of wind kicked up in fr
ont of the four members of the Protectorate and acted as a barrier that stopped the bullets in mid-flight.
Gale’s wall of air gave Card the opportunity to activate his power. His hands began to glow a faint purple and a new portal opened up directly behind him.
Jack, the little girl still in his arms, gave up on Sara and turned to escape down the tunnel just as a bright purple light filled the area behind them. A split second later, Card and Dense stepped into the tunnel and blocked Jack’s escape. There was nowhere to run. Jack spun around and grabbed Sara by the shoulder; he needed her to wake up. As he placed his hand on Sara’s shoulder, something happened.
Sara’s body tensed, her arms locked at her sides, the gun dropped into the water below. Her eyes, normally an iridescent blue, turned gray and sallow. Her mind, already overwhelmed with their plight, easily slipped into a trancelike state. To Jack, everything seemed like it was in slow motion. He tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t escape his lips.
Suddenly, a brilliant white light erupted from Sara’s eye sockets and blazed through the tunnels towards Gale and Lacerate. Steam filled the air as the intense heat from the beam transformed the water into vapor. The light blazed through the tunnel in the direction of the Protectorate members Lacerate and Gale. With a split second reaction, Carnal quickly transformed himself into a frog and hid beneath the water as the beam seared across his path.
The glowing beam cast light in every direction and crashed into Gale’s wall of wind. The solid mass of air was no match for the blast, which tore through the wind and hit Gale full front. Her skin erupted in blisters as she flew back into the tunnel wall behind her. A light steam hovered over the water as Lacerate raced to his comrade’s side and looked at her body. Everywhere the beam touched, seared the flesh into massive third degree burns with skin peeled back, muscle and cartilage burnt. “Bloody hell,” he said as he surveyed his teammate’s lifeless body. Lacerate turned and stared down the tunnel at the Resistance squad. Fear overwhelmed him and he slipped away.