The Esoteric Design: Disbanding Hope

by A. R. Crebs

  Straightening herself, Fiona gave Aren a charismatic grin. “As long as our apartment has lots of windows! And there has to be a mantle where I can place the urns nearby. Ivory always liked to look out the window.”

  Aren agreed with her request. “Most definitely.”

  Fiona eyed her new ring once again, twisting her hips side to side as she sat on her knees. “So…you’re just gonna whisk me away from the dark city and take me to your castle in the sky?”

  The pilot grabbed her hips, steadying them. “That’s the plan,” he said in a husky voice.

  Fiona gave a quiet chortle. “My hero.”

  BWEEP!

  Franklin gave a chime, tearing Aren roughly from his slumbers.

  “FOUND…AFFILIATION: BIO-TECH…”

  Aren, with his eyes locked on Fiona’s portrait, mumbled, “Great. Send a distress signal…requesting backup and possibly a search and rescue. List all parties in the transmission. I’m sure they will realize the severity of the situation.”

  He eyed the second necklace that had pulled out from the safety of the inside of his shirt. Fiona’s ring sparkled in the reflection of her photo. Sadly, Aren never got a chance to pop the question to Fiona. He had planned on making an event out of it the day of their anniversary, but was called into action once the recent attacks stirred up around the world. Unfortunately, he had to cancel their date. The next day the Underbelly was attacked, and Fiona was murdered. Aren swallowed his anger. The company he worked for hadn’t succeeded in killing him, but had killed Fiona. Even though he knew it wasn’t his fault, Aren still couldn’t stop blaming himself.

  “SENDING REQUEST…COMPLETE,” Franklin sounded.

  “ETA?” Aren shakily asked.

  “LOCATION: BRITAINIA CONGO…ETA APPROXIMATELY 65 MINUTES UPON APPROVAL OF REQUEST.”

  His lids were still heavy, but Aren needed one more bit of information before he gave up and lost consciousness once again. “Team name?” he lazily asked.

  Franklin whirred excitably. “TEAM NAME: PHOENIX.”

  Aren gave a short chuckle. “Holy shit,” he whispered and closed his eyes.

  "Distress Call"

  Chapter 14

  Michelle crouched behind an ammunitions crate, waiting and listening for the monster to approach her hiding place. Breathing quietly through her nose, she pushed the muzzle of her enormous automatic rifle out from behind the crate, the tip low to the ground. The camera on the end projected an image over her optics, revealing a massive shadow on the far wall at the end of the hallway. Flickering and swaying, the shattered fluorescents made the various shadows of the building dance; the crackling snap and pop of severed lines and destroyed electronics created a fitting soundtrack to the eerie setting. A gurgling growl warbled throughout the building. It was one of the big ones.

  “Damn it,” she shakily whispered.

  Running a hand through her dark hair, she mentally cursed herself for forgetting her hair tie. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of her neck, a feeling like that of spider legs. She shivered, wiping the droplet away. The Britainia Congo was one of her least favorite places. It was hot and humid despite being surrounded by nothing but sand, and the bugs were atrocious–the spiders and scorpions being the worst. Most of the insects were the size of her hand and could make her scream like a little girl. But now, bugs were the least of her problems. These foreign monsters had attacked the Chadian I.R.B. nearly a month ago, and her team was sent in to investigate. Unfortunately, the constant blow of EMPs had done a number on her and her squad’s DNAIS systems. The reach to call out for help was very limited, especially once the primary satellite had gone offline, making it nearly impossible to keep up communications with her company, Bio-Tech.

  The technician of the squad, Nerd, had been working tirelessly for a week when he was able to bring in a signal to one of the main comps that hadn’t been destroyed in the facility. That was when they realized Bio-Tech had gone down. President Clarke was missing along with the CEO, Walten. No one knew for sure what exactly was going on, but the live feed that had transmitted all around the world a few days ago was a mixed blessing. For the first time, her team had confirmation that Aria and Troy were still alive. Unfortunately, it seemed the two of them were directly involved with the horrors going on. Michelle had no idea who the strange little girl was, and she wasn’t sure what in the hell the man in the scarlet robes was either, but it left a terrible feeling deep within her gut. Judging by Aria’s reactions, there seemed to be a direct link between them all, and apparently things had gotten very bad. Despite all of the bad news, Michelle’s group leaders were alive, and that kept her going.

  Carefully, she silently checked her ammo count. She was low. A frown covered her face.

  “Where you at, Spoofy?” Nerd’s voice cut in through her mental chip, causing the woman to jump.

  Michelle’s code name was Spoofy. It was an odd name but referenced an old inside joke between Aria and her. Despite its mysterious meaning, the word registered well enough through mental communication and stuck.

  Pressing against her nodule behind her ear, she replied, “East wing. Got separated from the others when one of the big ones burst through the wall.”

  “Christ! How the hell did ya get that far so fast?” he asked.

  Nerd was a funny guy. He had a bit of Scotty in him but was raised in the Americas. Outside of the plaid tweed cap he always wore, one couldn’t tell Nerd was a Scotty except for times where he was excited or angry. That was when his accent came to the surface.

  “I ran…” she sarcastically replied, “fast.”

  “Well shit, Spoofy-gal, are ya goin’ ta be able ta make it?” he asked. “We’re clear on the opposite side of the compound.”

  Michelle gave an unsure groan to herself, keeping her eye on the angry beast that was now turning the corner. The massive creature sniffed the air, its golden eyes narrowing into slits. It was at a crossroads but turned its proportionately undersized head in her direction, giving another menacing growl. Boiling liquid dripped from its jaws. As it stepped forward with two stumpy legs, the monster had to duck just to fit inside the building. Rolling smoke filtered in behind its giant form, indicating that fire was close behind.

  “Uh, will have to get back to you on that. Looks like the enemy has possibly spotted me,” Michelle quickly stated.

  Watching as the beast purposefully moved forward with its eyes locked on her hiding place, she readied her grenade mag. Sabo hadn’t worked; basic grenades didn’t seem to do much against it, perhaps she could fight fire with fire. Slamming an incendiary into the front of her weapon, she prepared to move.

  “Yup, it’s definitely spotted me,” she said.

  “Get yer ass outta there. I don’t want any Spoofy barbecue, hear me?” Nerd called out.

  “Moving!” she replied.

  “I’ve got yer signal on my radar. I’ll be sendin’ reinforcements. Keep as straight a path as ya can.”

  “Shit. Easier said than done.” She looked over her shoulder. The hallway stretched for nearly two hundred meters before a door blocked it. She had no idea what lay on the other side of that entry, but she would have to take her chances as the creature was already nearing her position. “Send me schematics!”

  “Roger.”

  Pushing to her feet, Michelle fired one incendiary grenade toward the towering beast and tore off in the opposite direction down the hall. By the sound of it, the flames had momentarily halted the nemesis, but it wasn’t too long before she heard the thumping steps as it progressed further and picked up speed. It only encouraged her to move faster. Slamming against the door blocking her path, Spoofy jiggled the handle a couple of times.

  ‘Great…locked. Of course,’ she thought.

  Glancing back to check on her nearing enemy, she grabbed the handle with her left mechanized arm. Wrenching the handle off the door and giving a hard shove with her shoulder, she burst through and continued on her path straight down toward the second d
oor.

  At first, Spoofy was devastated when she had lost her arm during the False Syndicate War, but since then it had proven to be a blessing in disguise. She was retrofitted with a mechanized prosthetic that cupped over her left shoulder. Having the option to receive a more accurate and proportionate fitting had Spoofy shaking her head. Why choose a weak design? She wanted something that would be more accommodating to her lifestyle. Instead, the woman had a high-end mechanized-soldier arm attached. It was bulky and sometimes got in the way, but it proved more helpful than anything, such as wrenching doors from their hinges when running away from bloodthirsty monsters. Besides, it helped her out immensely during the arm wrestling tournaments she was often drug into with the boys.

  She dashed through the doors as if they were paper; the giant picked up speed and continued to gain on her. Before her eyes, a schematic of the compound appeared. The blueprint spun, fixing in on her position. She was marked in blue, her chaser in red.

  “Gonna have to make some twists and turns, Nerd. This guy won’t letup,” she mentally called.

  “Definitely approved. Get a move on.”

  Gritting her teeth, she pushed harder, wishing she had mechanized legs as well.

  ‘Maybe I’ll get an upgrade after dealing with all this bullshit.’

  Crunching through the next door, the soldier spun to the left and darted down the hall. She immediately turned left again, backtracking in the parallel corridor as the beast crunched through the previous doorway, giving a low howl. She must’ve pissed it off. Hopefully it would buy her some time to gain some distance. Winding around random turns and being careful not to make too much noise, Michelle gave a triumphant smirk as she saw the flickering exit sign not far away. Running at a split in the hall, she twisted to her left and halted.

  Of all the corners and all the halls of the entire complex, there had to be one of the tall, lanky creatures hanging out in front of her refuge. The creature spun at the sound of her arrival, its toothy jaws opening as it sang a little welcoming hiss. These things gave Michelle the heebie-jeebies. Though she wasn’t positive what they were exactly, these types reminded her far too much of the aliens portrayed in the sci-fi movies she often watched–large black eyes, small ribcage, long arms, and horrible shrieks. They were worse than the big guy that was currently hunting her.

  A symphony of airy moans and hisses sounded from behind her. Oh yes, she had turned left, but she hadn’t bothered looking to her right as she ran toward what she thought was her salvation.

  “Run sonar. NOW!” she ordered.

  Nerd complied as the map in her optic camera revealed her blue dot, the red dot before her blocking her exit, and the dozen other dots directly behind her.

  “Shit,” she snarled.

  Ducking and rolling back into the area she came from, she dodged the swiping hand that would have clamped over her face. She turned, firing her M28 Shredder. The gun was usually equipped to the mechs, but since the weight didn’t affect her all that much, it proved to be helpful in mowing down the enemy. Equipped with .50 magnum blistering pulse rounds, the weapon could easily destroy the barriers around the creatures. Usually, these breeds weren’t much of an issue outside of giving her the creeps. She only had to be wary of the ones that clung to the walls. The kick of the Shredder often threw off her aim, and when the critters began to climb and jump was when they posed a real threat.

  CHUNK, CHUNK, CHUNK.

  She fired relentlessly onto the pile. It only took a couple seconds to blow half of them away, but then they scattered to the sides. Not only were the beings like aliens, but they were like goddamn spiders, clinging to the ceiling and wall and scampering toward her at an unreadable speed.

  Backing away, the sonar kicking off every now and again to alert her of other dangers, she kept up her fight. If she could just obliterate these things, she could make it out to the courtyard and give herself some space to fight. She had to act fast as the deafening noise from her weapon had certainly given up her position, and the gargantuan monster would be back on her tail. One, two, three, four, five bodies dropped to the floor in a shuddering heap. The piercing cries made her cringe, and she backed up, tearing through the final few. Lowering her weapon, Spoofy gave an exhausted sigh. Judging by the sonar, a single creature lurked in the shadows, waiting for her to approach her exit.

  ‘Smart little bastards,’ she inwardly cursed.

  Aiming carefully at the corner of the hall, another burst of sonar went out, and she fired three shots. The blue pulsating light ruptured the edge of the wall, the two other rounds colliding with the body on the other side. A high-pitched shriek sounded, and steaming blood flowed around the corner. She lowered her weapon again, giving a tired laugh.

  Her time to rest, however, was not now, especially as the rapidly approaching tremors told her to move. As she rolled to the side, the wall next to her exploded outward. The giant had returned. Michelle resumed the chase, leaping over the bodies of the fallen creatures. She jammed the fingers of her left hand into the wall, acting as a hinge to smoothly whip her around the corner. Her chaser sped right on past, breaking through the wall into the courtyard. Ramming against the exit door, she kept her pace straight ahead, running along a suspended walkway. Now that was unexpected. She hadn’t realized there was a drop-off on that side of the building. It worked in her favor as the enemy fell a good distance, smashing into the concrete below with a loud crunch. The sound of warfare commenced, and she slowed her steps, rounding a corner on the path.

  Down below was the rest of her squad. They had the creature pinned, firing relentlessly into its broken body. Michelle gave a sideways smirk.

  “Yeah! Get the bastard!” she shouted.

  Taking careful aim, she fired upon the bubbling orange glowing sacs lining the spinal column of the gigantic beast. The pockets exploded outward, showering the concrete with a fiery liquid.

  “Woah, Spoof, a little warning next time,” Monkey called out.

  “What? Didn’t want that hot golden shower I sent your way?” she asked.

  “Not exactly the kind I was hoping for,” he replied.

  Firing once more at the final sac at the base of the creature’s skull, she gave a warning, “May want to back up, guys. This little firecracker is about to go off.”

  “Take cover!” one of the men below shouted.

  They scattered like ants as the gurgling monster boiled and expanded. A moment later, once it grew to be twice as wide, the thing exploded and sent lava-like materials all over the courtyard.

  “Hot damn!” Zombie hooted, stomping out from his cover behind a wasted tank in the far corner. He straightened his cowboy hat, his typical unbalanced grin growing more crooked the longer he stared at the creature's remains. “We finally killed the bastard.” His southern drawl was as apparent as ever.

  Zombie was originally called Wild Bill. Born and raised in the Dallas city-state, his company had been bought out in his early twenties by Walten and merged with Bio-Tech. It was then that he was placed on Aria and Troy’s Delta squad. After the deadly mission during the False Syndicate War, where the entire team was assumed dead, the group was labeled Team Phoenix. Having an unhealthy obsession with zombies and finding the relabeling of the group an opportune moment to change his personal identity once again, he changed his name from Wild Bill to Zombie. He justified it as fitting the life-after-death theme. No one questioned it, and the name stuck relatively quickly.

  Leaning forward, he kicked a piece of the monster, giving a sick laugh as he did so. Indeed, Zombie was having far too much fun with the creatures. At first, his theory was that they were a type of zombie created during illegal biological experiments on humans. The others hadn’t disagreed with him, but as the other forms showed up one after another, each one stronger than the last, they were beginning to think there was some other explanation for them. Aliens. Zombies. Whatever they were, there had to be a leader as they seemed organized in some way. After the team had seen the live vide
o feed with the disturbing little girl, the theories and connections became even stranger.

  Spoofy found a ladder on one side. Shouldering her weapon, she stepped over the edge of the railing and slid to the bottom. The others had circled around the mess, eyeing the debris and making cheesy comments about its burning flesh. Twisting her face in disgust, she groaned when Zombie continued poking part of the monster’s fleshy hand with the pointed toe of his boot.

  “Will you stop that?” She slugged him in the arm.

  He let out a loud groan of pain, glaring at the woman. “Let me have my celebrations, woman.”

  It had been nearly a week since the fire-breathing monster appeared at the base. For the most part, the team had avoided it pretty well. Unfortunately, as they were confiscating the core crystal drive, they were ambushed by it and a pack of the “lanky ones.” The group had been separated meaning the second half of their mission would have to be put on hold once again. As their DNAISs had all been temporarily offline, their communications with the rest of the military and their general had been cut-off. But, judging by the debris and unnatural silence of the compound, it seemed all hope was lost for any recovery of survivors.

  “By chance run into any survivors?” Spoofy asked.

  “Survivors? No,” Monkey replied. “But we did run into General Hughes.”

  The large man scratched the back of his shaved head. Monkey was a man of mass. He was tall and strong, not overly muscular, but knew how to throw around his weight. The guy looked a bit like a gorilla, but with his lax personality and loud cackling laugh, he was dubbed Monkey instead.

  “You found him?” Spoofy asked. She felt some relief, but she knew better.

  “Yup. Dead. Guy didn’t go out without a fight though,” Monkey said as he lifted up a blood-stained dog tag. “Used every last bullet. Was backed into a corner. Seemed like the pack may have gotten to him.”

  “Damnit,” Spoofy hissed. Aggravated, she ran her hand through her dark-brown hair, her fingers tangling in the tresses.