by Robert Lyons
Yet, the captain was now wading through a fresh, gory mess in a facility that should have been vacant, with no explanation from the higher ups how this happened in the first place.
Why was Jones being so secretive about something that was supposed to be handled by me? This place is under my authority. John was ready to punch a hole in a wall, not caring that the structure was made of rebar-reinforced concrete.
The head of the HAWK, Commander Matthew Jones, was a force to reckon with, for the past fifteen years after he assumed the prestigious position of leading the HAWK on a drawn-out campaign against the Chroma horde.
The HAWK ranks were well-known for having a plethora of personality conflicts. Matthew and John’s interactions were no exception to that trend. The only view the captain of the Ninth Force and the commander shared was their mutual hatred for the color-eyed beasts.
“Sitrep, Smokey,” the captain growled.
“Nothing to report,” Smokey replied. “Hey, captain, can I light one up real quick?”
“Come again?”
“Permission to smoke?”
“Do you want to die?” John retorted.
“I don’t see any Chroma, just thought it would be all right to lift the lid off the helmet, ya know?”
“This place is not secured. Now, if we get no feedback from those two in thirty seconds, we all pack up and go. Understand—?”
BRRAT! BRRAT!
John’s statement was drowned out by the thunder of gunfire in the distance.
“Gunnar! Zoe!” John yelled into his headset. “What’s going on?!”
“Captain - there are survivors in the room with the main breaker. As you probably heard, they’re armed to the teeth. Gunnar got a hit on his arm. Unfortunately, he’s going to be fine.” Zoe’s acidic tongue was potent as ever.
John sighed in relief. “I don’t care how you do it, get them out.”
“Permission to be ‘flexible’ with the extraction methods?”
“Just get those people out—alive. Recovering the data drive is now the secondary objective. Safely evacuating the survivors is our number one end game,” John barked over the comm.
“Heh, no wonder why you’re the most loved and … most hated captain in the HAWK,” Steeljaws chipped in his two cents. “Loved by those under you, hated by those above you.”
“Ego-stroking can wait! Get it done!”
“Aye, sir!” Steeljaws and Zoe called out simultaneously.
If I can help it, I’m getting to the bottom of this mess without relying on Jones, John thought.
If the captain’s concentration hadn’t been so preoccupied, he might have heard the dripping of saliva hitting the floor. The mouths and rest of the bodies were concealed in the darkness of the unlit ceiling.
4.
“We’re the Ninth Force of the HAWK! We are tasked to escort—!”
BRRAAT!
Steeljaws brought his head back behind the corner. All of this calamity would attract any predator; therefore, Zoe was on guard duty while Steeljaws attempted to inform the survivors that they were being rescued.
“We’re making too much noise!” Steeljaws flexed his shoulders for a moment, trying to suppress the building tension. The last thing he wanted was to sound desperate. If he did, no one would trust him.
“Keep reasoning with them. They’ll come around. I’m sure of it!” Zoe breathed sarcasm.
She knew full well that the surviving personnel must have been stricken with so much fear that they were beyond saving without using some force. Her captain’s “soft” methods would often irk her, mainly because Zoe’s style was far more destructive. John was known for his organized process to get a job done, while Zoe was more inclined to chaotic measures.
“You’re one of the Chroma!” a woman from the room cried out. Her voice was shaky, the tone suggesting that she was becoming hysterical. “You’re mimicking HAWK to trick us!”
More bullets were blindly fired in Steeljaws and Zoe’s general direction.
Chunks of concrete were chipping away from the corner of the hallway that Steeljaws would occasionally poke his head out to get a visual. After the thunder of weapons died down, the clanking of empty brass shells rolling on the floor and the unstable breathing of the frightened occupants in the room were the only audible sounds.
“I guess we’re Chroma now.” Steeljaws grinned.
Next to him, Zoe was still leaned up against the wall, looking both ways to ensure they wouldn’t be ambushed. She let out a sigh, clearly not as entertained as Steeljaws was.
“I hate to admit it—but it would be nice if Jason showed up,” Zoe whispered under her breath.
The name belonged to an individual who held the highly regarded title of “Wielder,” a unique warrior who was far better suited to overcome this setback than anyone, including herself. Zoe hated that fact, but when it came down to it, she could not allow her pride to reject help when it was available. However, Jason was tied up with other business. It was up to Steeljaws and her to get the job done.
“Well, there are two ways of doing this. Keep talking and eventually we might all end up dying by shooting each other, or the Chroma make an appearance and finish us all off. So how about we change up the game? We can stun them with a flashbang. That way, we can save them without ‘accidentally’ massacring them,” Zoe growled.
“I thought we were going to go about this … elegantly.”
“Human history as the reference, when has being ‘elegant’ ever worked?”
Steeljaws formulated an answer before realizing the rhetorical nature of the question. Fed up with the waiting game, Zoe pulled up her comm unit and tapped directly into John’s headset.
“Captain, negotiations are a dud. Permission to engage with force?” Zoe huffed, her temperature rising on par with her anger.
“Do what you absolutely must, but allow me to emphasize that killing them is not an option! If it comes down to it—you take the bullet. Your armor can handle it. They cannot die,” John warned.
“Giving us orders to use our armor as shields? You’re certainly too generous, captain.” Zoe sounded genuinely grateful. “I’m not promising anything. Whatever happens—happens.”
Zoe was the one grinning this time, a sparkle in her eye.
Gripping the firearm tightly in her hand, the HAWK fighter moved up right behind Steeljaws.
“Out of the way!”
“Wait up, Hellcat.”
“Would you quit it?”
“You don’t like your nickname, Zoe? I think it’s special!”
“No, I’m perfectly happy with my real name! Now spit it out! They’ll get rowdy soon,” Zoe replied, peeking her head out from the corner for a moment with the IR sight on. She caught the signature of a person leaning out from the room and pointing their weapon down the hall.
“Try not to enjoy yourself too much.” Steeljaws raised an eyebrow, leaning his head to the side.
“They shot you, Gunnar. Friendly fire or not, that cannot go unpunished,” Zoe chuckled, holding up a finger close to her visor, waving it back and forth slowly.
“Churning out bullshit excuses to justify hurting people is definitely something you would do in your spare time.” Steeljaws turned to watch for an ambush while Zoe set up for the maneuver she had to perform. There was only one chance to get it right.
“I do have other hobbies besides that, you know,” Zoe replied, snatching a canister from Steeljaws’ belt. “Not many, but I do have other ones.”
For Zoe, there really was no other place than being in some sort of conflict. Steeljaws was relieved after he surmised what was transpiring in Zoe’s head.
I guess some things don’t change—even after marriage.
“Hey, assholes! We were going to walk you out, but you’ve made a mistake! You shot my wingman!” Zoe yelled out from behind her corner of the wall.
“Don’t come any closer! We will kill you!” The reply was a shrill cry.
“Yeah, oka
y!” Zoe laughed as she examined her weapon one last time. There was no room for a simple error. She had to be ready in case the flow of events escalated out of her control. Weaving her thumb through the pull ring of the flash bang that she took from Steeljaws, Arsenault kept light on her feet in anticipation.
An unexpected reply came back from the room. The voice’s tone was different from before. The person sounded defeated and exhausted. “Before we are compelled to kill you, I’m telling you this—we have a package.”
Zoe’s hand twitched as she mentally analyzed the response. She gritted her teeth, legs locking up.
“John, did you hear that?” she hissed, the grip she exerted on her weapon’s handle intensifying.
“Yeah, I heard it off your mic. It’s going to be a shit fest, Zoe. Good luck.”
This was no longer a confrontation between two groups of the same side.
The people in that room weren’t warding off the HAWK reinforcements because they were convinced this was the ploy to kill them. There was something else in that room. The survivors were trying to deter Steeljaws and Zoe from clashing with whatever was hiding in the darkness.
Zoe pressed her back against the wall, taking a deep breath and turning to look at her wingman.
“The Chroma are behind this.” Steeljaws narrowed his eyes, clenching his teeth. A painful memory from his past was threatening to worm itself out of the crevices of his mind. I should know. This is pretty much how I earned my nickname.
“Is this like … that one time?” Zoe furrowed her eyebrows, trying to block out the most gruesome details of that encounter. “I thought the last time was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing.”
“This is an abnormal situation. The Chroma are not hunting for food, they are pulling off some kind of complex movement. They went as far as letting the humans have guns to shoot at us. So, what’s our plan? Throwing a flashbang in there is pretty much the same as throwing a handful of shit into a spinning fan.”
“Based on their response, I gather that the group is going to do everything they can to protect one person, which is about the number of personnel that we would be able to get out of here in one piece.” The muscles in Zoe’s legs tensed up as she mentally mapped out the best possible path.
The reality of it was that a single moment of hesitation could result in death. A sharp pain stabbed through Zoe’s heart.
The day she met her husband Drew was the only time she felt more vulnerable than she did now. The fact that she was wearing one of the world’s best armor systems didn’t subtract from the fear of dying. And yet, she didn’t fear mortality in the conventional way. She was more worried about what would happen to those left behind, instead of how she was taken out of this world.
What would Drew do if I … died?
Zoe cleared her mind and focused on the objective. Her rage stirred as her pupils shrank once again. I’m not going to die! I have someone waiting for me to come home!
Zoe was ready to explode in fury for allowing her emotions to sway her as much as they did. That was one part she despised when it came to loving someone. There were times she felt so exposed and fragile, but in some ways, Zoe began to find a hidden strength within the crevices of such a dismal weakness.
Zoe belted out a throaty scream, lunging out from her hiding spot and bringing up the gun in front of her, finger on the trigger and ready to fire at the first thing flying out of that door. She didn’t have to worry about friendly fire this time. The last thing she was expecting was a human to run out of the room in one piece.
The hallway was about to be Chroma hunting grounds.
Lights seated in the steel-plated ceiling suddenly turned on, nearly blinding Zoe and Steeljaws. The visors in their faceplates compensated for the sudden rush of light, adjusting their eyes to the bright environment.
Gunfire erupted once more, but this time, all of the shooting was kept inside of the room where the manual override was located. The roars of hellish beasts echoed in the hallways. A cold chill ran down Steeljaws’ back as his ears caught the sound. He covering Zoe’s six, weapon fixed to his shoulder as his eyes stared down the sights. The two-man cell covered the distance quickly as the gunfire began to die down. Human and monstrous screams intermixed within the bloodbath. The mingling of both species’ blood began to pour over the small threshold of the door, slowly trickling out into the hallway.
One of the monsters suddenly stumbled out of the room. His body was riddled with a dozen gunshot wounds that were concentrated in the torso, but it stood tall - a disgusting show of arrogance.
The creatures, named by the HAWK as “Chroma” because of their colored eyes, were often mistaken to be human at first glance. However, previous battles taught Steeljaws these creatures only shared a similar appearance. All other traits between the two species diverged after that point.
Steeljaws charged, unloading the rest of magazine into the creature’s upper torso. The Chroma’s face, mostly concealed by its long bangs of hair, was exposed enough to reveal that the mouth had formed into a terrifying grin, fangs overhanging the bottom row of teeth.
The warrior skillfully placed the last three bullets into the Chroma’s head. The red-eyed beast’s body snapped back as the rounds penetrated its sickly white flesh.
Reaching for the equipment strapped to his lower back, Steeljaws grabbed the handle of his knife. He extracted it, approaching at a low angle and positioning the blade to land an uppercut attack.
In the final moment before the gap was closed, the Chroma brought its head back, the red eye locking onto Steeljaws’ visor. With the long bangs flipped out of the way, the rest of the face was revealed to the world. When Steeljaws was first introduced to these monsters, he would frequently freeze from the glare of the red eye. After years of grueling training, he forgot how to falter while trapped in that crimson leer.
The Chroma cackled, right before Steeljaws’ blade pierced through its red eye and broke past the back of its skull. The two bodies hit the ground with a cascading thud, the Chroma on his back while Steeljaws remained crouched over him. A fire ignited in Steeljaws as he planted his boot on the throat of the Chroma’s motionless body after standing up.
The knife was yanked out with some resistance, tearing out small pieces of gray matter. After he’d whipped the dagger back and forth, the body fluids that clung to the blade were flung off.
This was not the deathblow that was required to take down a Chroma. The attack provided a significant hit to stun the Chroma, making the killing significantly less difficult. Positioning the knife a little to the left, above the sternum with both hands gripping the handle, Steeljaws slammed the knife right through the bone and pierced the heart.
The Chroma’s body violently jerked as limbs flailed.
“Going in!” Zoe yelled, leaving her wingman behind and charging into the small room. The walls, originally light gray in color, were thoroughly stained with splotches and red and black blood. The floor was littered with human and Chroma bodies. The battle between men and the beasts was over just as fast as it started, both sides felling each other.
The couple of monsters that refused to die were severely slowed down after being shot numerous times. Zoe finished them off by putting three bullets into each of the half-dead Chroma’s chests.
A young woman was huddled in a corner. Her body shook violently, not daring to make a single peep.
“Room’s secure! Get up! We’re leaving!” Zoe informed the girl while reloading her Kriss Vektor with a fresh magazine. Steeljaws came in a moment after, standing next to Zoe and covering her back.
The young woman’s eyes were cracked wide open, glazed over as they stared at the boots of the two armored figures standing before her. The shock from witnessing and surviving the bloody event had rendered the young woman temporarily motionless.
“If we keep standing around, we’re gonna die! There are more of those waiting for us!” Zoe raised her voice, extending her hand to help the young woman to her fee
t.
The young woman suddenly tucked her head between her knees as she let loose a high-pitched wail. Trembling hands shot up to the sides of her head, grabbing a hold of her shoulder-length blonde hair.
Zoe cursed under her breath, withdrawing her helping hand and shaking her head.
“T-They were—!” The woman stopped her wail, trying to communicate with the HAWK members. “Before you showed up, t-they began to eat my friends! The monsters ate them!”
Zoe turned to look at Steeljaws. He couldn’t see his wingman’s face hidden behind the full helmet, but he exactly knew which expression she was making.
As the nickname “Hellcat” suggested, Zoe not the type to exercise gestures that could be classified as “warm and gentle.” She thumped the young woman’s head with her gloved hand in an attempt to break the panic episode.
As a result, the woman nearly folded like a collapsible lawn chair from the overwhelming force behind Zoe’s hit. She grabbed her head again, this time because of the throbbing pain pulsing throughout her skull. Small tears began to collect in the bottom of her eyelids.
“This shouldn’t be news to you that the Chroma eat humans!” Zoe yelled, grabbing the girl by the wrist and yanking her up to her feet.
The first attempt to coerce her into the standing position ended with failure. The young woman crashed over onto her knees, sprawling out on the metal-plated floor. Her conduct was striking Steeljaws as odd.
He understood that just seeing a Chroma was more than enough to absolve all sort of bravado. Witnessing the beasts eat a human only intensified the response. Nevertheless, there was a peculiarity about her behavior. What was causing this complete “deadweight state” was not exclusively from beholding horrific events transpire.
Something else happened…
“Hold on, Zoe,” Steeljaws cautioned as he approached, letting the sling wrapped around his torso catch his short-barrel rifle.
“Any bright ideas? Because knocking her out cold and dragging her ass out of here sounds like the only feasible option. She’s going to attract everything in here.” The young woman’s inability to adapt to circumstances was starting to reach a point where Zoe was going to use bodily harm to get the young woman in line.