Angelos Odyssey

by J. B. M. Patrick

  Kaust fire a round which affects both of them before delivering the two into a deep slumber. He’s visibly exhausted. “Someone in a cruiser caused all this.” The detective stares into the burning tower. “Crashed into the plant. At the right spot, right time. Released some kind of gas that makes people… insane, violent.” He sighs. “I don't know for how long—Ellom damn well better come out of it, though; he better make it, Brock, because whoever planned this doesn't have a fucking prayer. Nothing will keep them from my wrath.”

  I smile. “Good.” He seems taken aback by my response, but I continue. “Just as long as you don't quit.”

  “Don't you want to see the motherfuckers who did this brought to justice, too?”

  Before I know it, one of the infected begins raking his broken nails into my back! Sharp, hot pain crawls along my body as I quickly move away while pivoting around to connect my elbow with the attacker's head! I then draw my handgun and strike my opponent again with the butt of the weapon in the same point and move out of his way as he falls forward.

  “A 'not really' paramedic whose got hands, huh?” Kaust is somewhat surprised but remains mostly stoic.

  “I guess they're not done trying me.”

  As we move toward one of the entrances to the plant, a group of three flanks us from behind. I quickly dispatch one of the savages with a controlled blow to its neck, but Kaust is beset and nearly overwhelmed by the other two!

  One of them waves an iron pipe at the detective, who ducks before rushing forward to tackle his new opponent. However, Kaust is stopped in his tracks when the other infected victim grabs him from behind and thrusts a shiv at his neck! The detective barely manages to move in time to avoid the blade, which pierces and lodges deep into his upper back! A third infected emerges and flanks Kaust at his side, but by this point I've already closed in on all of them.

  Kaust shocks the fiend wielding the iron pipe. I control one of the attackers by his shoulder and force him into my gun before I deliver a barrage of rounds through his abdomen.

  Kaust looks over while appearing to feel a mix of astonishment coupled with pure rage. He becomes so distracted by my actions that he doesn’t expect when the last of the infected strikes him over the head with her forearm. The detective tries to back away but becomes dizzy and collapses onto his back!

  He could've probably handled the situation on his own terms, but my mind is gone again. The civil me, the law-abiding public servant… it’s my way of penance. But here. In this place…

  I fire a bullet into the woman’s head and then rotate to shove the barrel of the weapon into yet another approaching savage's jaw, fracturing it. I prepare to fire when I hear a sound that's almost been completely drowned out.

  It's a voice. Someone's afraid—or angry?

  “STOP SHOOTING! BROCK, STAND DOWN!”

  And my picture of reality changes.

  The person I just struck is seizing. Kaust is aiming his stun gun at me. He looks enraged. “You killed them! Do you understand what you just did?!”

  I don't know what to say.

  “Do you hear me!? –I could place you under arrest—”

  “I did what I had to do.” I then look up while remaining solemn. “I hope you brought more than just that little taser.”

  The detective stares at me for a long while.

  I'm figuring we'll fight. I'm figuring he'll try the stun gun as his first option; Kaust is too clean of a guy to go around putting bullets in people. When the stun gun fails, the detective will rely on his own raw skill. That is, if he has any.

  I see it all as I do every scenario. I know how this fight will end already, but I'm looking forward to the thrill.

  The detective gathers himself into a defensive stance and is about to move his weapon to fire at me. I put away my own handgun and run at him.

  Kaust reacts on cue and looks smug as he pulls the trigger, sending a powerful, chronic pulsation throughout my body.

  I’m used to it.

  I use the back of my fist to knock the stun gun out of his hand and try to close in on his guard. He can't hope to stand up to me in a one-on-one battle; I've already won, but, like I said, Kaust is a good cop, and I won't let him go down without his gas mask.

  Securing my victory, I grab onto detective's sleeve and pull him forward to strike him in the gut! I’m hoping that will get him to stand down! He keels over but still resists, so I focus my strength, use precision—and then I see it!

  Kaust retrieves a baton from a holster on the side of his hip which generates an enormous amount of electricity and thrusts it into my side while reaching for my gun with his other hand! This time the shock is even more painful and nearly paralyzes me, but I recover and grab Kaust's arm before his hand reaches the automatic pistol and—!

  There's a blast.

  My vision’s blacked out.

  … I can't open my eyes.

  Intense heat engulfs my form. My face feels as though it's burning.

  I can't breathe.

  I-I can't breathe.

  “I… can't breathe!” I sit up and realize that I’m still unable to see. It’s painful when I try. I smell… burning.

  Where's my mask? What happened? I continue rubbing my eyes to clear them of… ash? I hear someone coughing.

  Kaust.

  “Detective!” I manage to utter.

  No response.

  “Det—”

  “God… damn.” Kaust says before coughing again.

  When I finally regain part of my vision, I begin coughing along with him.

  “It was…” Kaust is trying to speak. I notice that the two of us are covered in soot.

  “An explosion.” I finish for him. “Probably,” I spit out a blackened substance. “… Something on the inside.”

  “That,” the detective struggles to stand, “or it was a delayed bomb from our dearly beloved terrorist.”

  Kaust strides over to me so quickly that I almost turn to strike him, but then he stops and offers me an intense gaze.

  We'd both lost our masks.

  There’s another passing moment when we consider how the next fight will go. I prepare myself, and then—

  “If the neurotoxin gets me and I turn…” Kaust grumbles, “I'm coming after your trifling ass first!”

  I look at him for a few more seconds.

  We both start laughing.

  And on a very hazy horizon, several forms begin to show up and seem to be hurrying this way. More savages, it seems.

  “Well,” Kaust shakes his head, “at least we're going out like champs, am I right? Didn't wanna live with a new concussion anyw—”

  “No.”

  “No?” There's a curious smile on his face.

  “I'll take them all on, and I won't do it your way.”

  I prepare to draw my weapon as the oncoming horde seems determined to kill us. The only things they hate more than themselves are people who aren't infected. I know Kaust will try to stop me and will probably come close to getting us both killed, but I head into the fray regardless.

  …

  A storm of bullets burrows into the mass of infected victims, bullets which implode and mostly blow apart their mangled bodies. One of the savages manages to get away and continues his path toward us until the end of a long blade plunges through his back and protrudes out of his chest.

  The stranger holding the sword merely flicks her wrist while maintaining her grip on the weapon and sends the corpse of the afflicted to the concrete. I peer at a series of newcomers who initially are obscured because of the smog. But soon, I'm assaulted with the imagine of a squad of individuals encased in… armor?

  --

  A foreign alloy was once taken and smithed into a defensive suit which was both flexible and able to absorb a high amount of impact. At first, it was ditched simply because the early Enrec army couldn't adapt to the physical demands of this new technology. The armor was known to have been extremely heavy, and soldiers often died in combat due to hea
t exhaustion from wearing the suit. Over the years, the Federation produced variations of the armor; it's evolved into not only a protective shield, but modern versions have heating and cooling systems installed on the inside to monitor and aid the user in homeostasis.

  --

  The woman standing before me is clasp in a sleek, grey suit made from that very alloy: a metal shaped and designed to fit her individual form. The suit looks slender, and I'm guessing it's a much lighter version of the original. Eyes peer at me from behind a large visor. The others in the squad adorn similar helmets with visors designed in different patterns, and they approach us, some wielding swords and others aiming rifles; without our gas masks, we look like… the others.

  Kaust springs into action by flashing his badge and exclaiming: “Don't shoot! Detective Kaust!”

  The lead woman flinches before appearing skeptical. “Why are you without a full team in the Hazard Area? Who authorized you to be here?”

  The detective readily displays his annoyance. “Who authorized you to be here, huh?! My team was… taken.” He looks away in shame.

  “All agencies other than the Dawn Federation Knights have had their jurisdiction removed by order of the government.” She speaks with an arrogant, authoritarian tone. “Further tampering of the issue via outside parties would result in prosecution under our own terms, Detective.”

  “But…” Kaust and I are both astounded; in spite of this, he's able to press on with his line of questioning. “Y-you just shot a bunch of innocent people!”

  The Dawn Knight scoffs condescendingly. “You fail to remember how we operate. The Federation has ordered the execution of all fully-contaminated specimen.”

  “'Specimen?' They’re just ‘specimen’ to you?”

  She continues. “You've been exposed to the nerve agent, but you remain in a manageable time window. With your cooperation, we can ensure the toxin leaves your body.”

  Behind the Knight, another team of the armored fighters moves to enter the plant proper.

  Kaust thinks for a moment before sighing in defeat. “I'm afraid there's no need to fight this one; the knights have a… special relationship with the law, apparently.”

  “Not special.” The Dawn Knight replies. “God-given. Our organization was created to handle problems the legal system could not. The Knights will contain this plant far better than the Bureau could; simply put, you fight for the wrong side.”

  From the inside of the plant, I hear the sound of gunfire followed by frantic shouting as the armored soldiers begin clearing the place. They aren't affected by the intensity of the smoke or scorching heat; they're… different. Along with Angelos, the Knights have their own designation in the government. Making them an enemy would set myself up for a quick death. Like Kaust, I concede and even speak for the two of us: “Get a doctor.”

  18

  Blue in Green

  --

  Tavon

  --

  BROCK LEFT HIS TITLE behind as the Third Quadrant Champion to enlist in Enrec as the lowest-ranking recruit. He'd become humbler and therefore was more tolerant when it came to being cursed at and scolded repeatedly. And so, when Enrec bore witness to Brock's growing potential, they made training harder on him.

  Brock was forced to constantly surpass himself while under the duress of exercises meant to strengthen combat reflexes. He often underwent a rapid, forty-five minutes to an hour regiment that had him memorizing cones of fire while maintaining concealment on an obstacle course designed to weed out weaker recruits. He was pushed by his commanding officers. They would awaken him after midnight and force him to practice firing maneuvers vigorously before he’d be made to fight them all at once. Afterwards, his battered body would be hauled to a lifting room where he'd be beaten further if he didn't heft the demanded weight.

  Every day, Brock was singled out and tortured individually, compelled to grow into a more powerful version of himself with every passing month.

  Soon, he became aware of Enrec's new plan for him: Brock was to be trained and placed on a reconnaissance team in order to participate in a war waged against both Gaspul and Alandra. In the years before another attack on insurgency forces in Gaspul, Brock remained faithful to the Dawn Federation's military, and he slowly grew into a star. As a young man, he became renowned for eventually being able to lift objects well beyond his own body weight. Brock was also a respected wrestler in his unit and eventually graduated to fighting clubs contained within close, discrete circles.

  For Brock, all there was buried in what was left of his heart was rage.

  He'd learned how to control it over time but still had outbursts while serving the military; outbursts which nearly cost him time in prison. I guess you could say Brock never intended to try to kill anyone, but he had a twisted lust for battle I've rarely witnessed in my own history. Although he’d spared me in our first encounter, just because he put a man on the ground, that didn't mean he was finished beating him to a pulp.

  Eventually, Brock matured in his demeanor and allowed himself to become more acquainted with Enrec's military tactics. He and his team were put through a series of drills based on tactical manuals developed by President Derek’s original mercenary company. That company had nearly perfected guerrilla operations, and the Dawn Federation was built on the cleverness of four people; therefore, the manual, praised as “The Good Book”, became the cornerstone of what Brock learned as he was given more responsibility in his team over time. The young soldier was later put in charge of members belonging to the Executive Division's Military Corps. A group of Corps commanders chose to promote him—earlier than expected—to the rank of Sergeant Follower after reviewing his accomplishments in Enrec. Soon after, Brock was deployed to spy on Eastern Gaspul. Little did he know that his team's work would lead to an invasion which, in effect, crippled any remnants of the Gaspulan government and resulted in today’s vassalage to our country.

  Following the Federation’s successful campaign, Brock faced another deployment to settlements the Dawn Federation believed could be converted. In one of those settlements, Brock's team was ambushed…

  It’s said that it took only one of his men going down before the Sergeant Follower unleashed his wrath upon the enemy. Brock became a military legend when he managed to outmaneuver two squads that had been spread out over the village in preparation for Enrec's arrival. Tales are spun about how he lost his mind and slaughtered everyone on the battlefield while the rest of his team just… covered him.

  He was field-promoted to Sergeant Master shortly after.

  I think that's what changed him, honestly. Brock's conscience disappeared when he was out in the world fighting for the Dawn Federation. In fact, everything human simply vanished. I know he only opened up to his men and had a strong bond with his inner circle, but most of his emotions had frozen over. He'd stopped sleeping in the field and would remain up from midnight until dawn while pouring over his plans.

  --

  One morning, Brock's team had disguised themselves as traveling villagers in order to infiltrate an underground drug ring that had been connected to fatal poisonings back in the Citadel. While traveling in an armored vehicle, they suddenly found themselves stranded in a trap designed for them. Brock and his men had driven over a series of IEDs linked together and programmed to detonate as soon as they reached the center of an organized minefield. Needless to say, the Sergeant Master was hospitalized and field-promoted once again to Lieutenant. He'd sustained wounds that would've ended any normal human, but Brock had an unstoppable resolve known to place fear into the hearts of others.

  He fell into a coma lasting exactly a month.

  Afterwards, he awoke to hear that his entire team had been killed in the attack. Another recon element near their group had been alerted and rushed in as reinforcements. They discovered Brock's unconscious, battered form sprawled next to his fallen comrades.

  Brock was later recognized for his valor and subsequently deemed a war hero by the pu
blic. President Derek had even planned to thank him for his service during a national broadcast, but he was unfortunately called away during another insurgency in Gaspul. After the forces ahead of him found the small rebellion more than manageable, Brock was ordered by the Commanders of the Military Corps to take a vacation while they reviewed him for a new position that would have him acting as the Major for a battalion-sized raid unit. It meant he'd be participating in even more deployments while in charge of a few hundred soldiers.

  The newly-promoted Lieutenant couldn't be more excited to get back to work. But in the meantime, he gave himself a long-needed rest as he wandered around various clubs and bars littered throughout the Citadel.

  He ended up falling in love…

  19

  Midnight And You

  ANGELOS DOCTORS UNDERSTAND how my body works by now. I don’t know who called them—I don’t even know how they knew my location, but the organization I work for saved my life. Could be because of the coming interview.

  Yesterday’s wounds become today’s scars, only subtle reminders of injuries that could’ve killed me. Except this time, I look at the image in the mirror and notice a deep, darkened cut with a clean diagonal path permanently marring my face. Its center is just above the bridge of my nose.

  But she’s alive. She’s safe.

  --

  Janelle

  --

  “I… I didn't know you were friends with a war hero.” Aaliyah smirked. She remarked, “I guess I didn't think you kicked it with the 'noble' crowd.”