REV- Renegades

by T. R. Harris

  Olivia wasn’t swayed by the speech.

  She shook her head. “Another duty station and a few more stolen moments.” She shrugged. “Momma said there’d be days like this. I just didn’t think they would turn into a lifetime.”

  She rose to her feet…and began to slowly unbutton her blouse.

  12

  After another two days of testing and drawing samples, Zac and Angus were taken to another room, where they found an impressive-looking padded exam chair, a bank of sophisticated electronic equipment and a pair of lab-coated operators seated at consoles. Cross was there as well, along with two male attendants standing back, waiting for something to happen. The intelligence officer, Col. Jack Diamond was there, too. Zac felt his body cascade slightly. Although Zac suspected Cross had something to do with his imprisonment on Eliza-3, he was sure of Diamond’s involvement. The officer had gloated about it to him, implying—not so subtly—that Zac was too dangerous to be allowed anywhere near civilized society. To him, the senior REV was a wild animal, better locked away or put down.

  The two men eyed each other with intensity but held their tongues. If the colonel was to remain at the facility, they would run into each other again. And for Zac, he hoped it would be in one of the secluded offshoot tunnels. After that, it would be a miracle if Diamond’s body was ever seen again.

  “Okay, this you’re not going to like,” David Cross announced to the REVs, which included Zac, Angus and one of the Bravos. “We’re going to monitor your cascading ability.”

  “How are you going to do that?” Zac asked.

  Cross gave him a sheepish grin. “We’re going to shock the hell out of you.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Staff Sergeant Steven Fowler. The REV was a nine-year veteran of the program yet was already testing positive to natural NT-4. The baby-faced, blond-haired man looked nervous at the prospect of being artificially made to cascade.

  “Don’t worry, son, we have Twilight and a team standing by if anything accelerates beyond tolerances.” Cross nodded at the two stoic attendants. “Why don’t we start with Mr. Murphy? He seems to have the most control over his emotions.”

  “I don’t know where you got that idea?” Zac said as he slid onto the huge exam chair. It looked like a dentist’s chair, except for the proliferation of security buckles and straps for his legs and arms.

  Zac was strapped in and electrodes attached to his chest and forehead.

  “We’re going to give you a series of jolts to see how high we have to go to get a response,” Cross explained. “I’m sure you’re aware that once your body cascades, the pain will go away. We don’t want you to suffer, but we do need to know the theoretical activation level. You won’t be taken all the way up, so you can relax.”

  “I haven’t been activated in nearly a year,” Zac said. “I’m not even sure if I can be anymore.”

  “Again, we’re not looking full activation, just to test the control you have over the cascading.” Cross turned to the equipment techs then back to Zac. “You ready?”

  “As I ever will be.”

  Cross reached over and placed a tooth guard in his mouth. “Just in case,” he said, displaying that same sheepish grin that had become his trademark, false or otherwise.

  If the first shock was only a light measuring jolt, then Zac was in for a long morning. He spasmed and bit down on the mouthguard, feeling his eyes bulge out of his skull. The pain was incredible, but it only lasted a second before Zac’s REV defenses kicked in. He cascaded, just enough to counter the shock. However, along with his pain suppressors, his other senses heightened as well, including a tensing of his muscles. He could feel the strength coursing throughout his body—measurable, but far below that of a fully-activated REV.

  David Cross was engrossed in the readings on the various monitors, huddled with the technicians. Zac relaxed, letting his emotions back off, slowly returning to normal.

  “Okay…one more time.”

  Zac wasn’t expecting to get hit again. This time the pain was accompanied by anger and he cascaded considerably higher. Once the sensation was gone, he forced his pulse to drop and his muscles to relax. The anger remained.

  “How about a little warning next time, doc?”

  “Oh, sorry,” said Cross, distracted. “We’re going to do it a third time. The readings were markedly different for each test.”

  “That’s because you pissed me off with the second one.”

  Cross looked at him and nodded. “Of course. Get ready, we’ll go in three…two…one…now.”

  The pain was considerably less this time, either because of a lowered voltage or because he was expecting it. Either way, afterwards he was unstrapped and allowed to stagger out of the chair and to a waiting wheelchair. It was there for convenience, and a few moments later he’d regained his balance and stood up.

  Cross turned to the other two REVs. “Okay…who’s next.”

  Fingers pointed at the opposite REV.

  “Let’s take Sergeant Fowler,” Cross said, settling the standoff. “We’ve tested a 351-C. Let’s try a Bravo this time.”

  “How’d I do, doc?” Zac asked as the young REV was being strapped in.

  “It will take a while to analyze the data. And then we’ll have to compare it to the others.”

  “I mean, did I come close to going over the edge?”

  Cross shook his head. “Not even close, lieutenant. That’s encouraging. In high stress situations, we’re hoping that the naturals don’t achieve full activation. Without backup protocols in place, that could be a problem.”

  “Naturals?”

  “That’s what we’re calling you, until we come up with something better.”

  “How about guinea pigs?”

  Cross smirked. “Yeah, that would work, too.” He turned to his next guinea pig.

  Zac went to stand next to Angus. From here they could see the monitors and squiggly lines being recorded in the computers. Sergeant Fowler was nervous, and his vital signs were already elevated when Cross placed the tooth guard in his mouth.

  “Try to relax, sergeant. If anything, the pain will only last a moment.”

  Cross nodded to a technician.

  The jolt sent Fowler’s body into a sharp, single spasm, before he relaxed and fell back on the chair. His eyes were closed and the height of the lines on the monitors were nearly off the chart.

  “Relax, sergeant!” Cross called out. “It’s over.” He turned to the techs. “Dammit, drop the voltage. He can’t handle Murphy’s level.”

  Fowler’s eyes opened and began shifting around the room, full of panic. A fair amount of spittle drained from the corners of his mouth and his hands were twitching.

  “My apologies, sergeant,” Cross said. “We’ll lower the intensity for the next test.”

  “Next test!” Fowler blurted, his speech slurred by the mouthguard. “No fucking way!”

  “Relax, Marine!” said Col. Diamond. “You’ll sit there and take it.”

  Cross cast an angry glare at the intelligence officer. “This is my facility, colonel. You’re here only to observe. I will conduct the tests as I see fit.”

  “Then do it, colonel,” Diamond snapped back. “I need to know what it takes to make these men operational again—”

  He closed his mouth suddenly.

  “We’ll start over again, Fowler,” David Cross said calmly. “You’ll be better able to handle it this time.”

  Before anymore protests could arise, the Marine staff sergeant was hit again. This time the jolt was much milder, and he only reacted for a second before calming down. “That was better,” he said. “Thanks.”

  “We’ll continue with these tests over the next few days to see if you become conditioned to the stimulus. We’ll take it easy at first.” He looked at Col. Diamond. “After all, we’re not on anyone’s time schedule…except mine.”

  13

  All eight REVs at the facility were subjected to the shock test. Zac and Angus were
usually paired together for the sessions, with the Bravos rotated in with them. Each time Sergeant Fowler joined them, he appeared to become more comfortable with the process. Although his numbers were always much higher than either of the senior REVs, he was learning to tolerate the jolts better.

  “Please direct your attention to the monitoring equipment, Mr. Murphy,” Dr. Cross said at the start of the most recent session. Zac was already strapped in and with the mouthguard in place. “We now have a timer that will count down to the pulse.”

  Not since the first session had Cross done even a verbal countdown. The REVs would simply be in the chair—and then hit. In fact, it seemed the randomness of the jolts was something Cross and the techs worked on intentionally, trying to surprise the REVs. Now they had a timer.

  Zac watched the numbers click down. By the time they reached zero, his body had already cascaded, and the electric shock had no effect. Cross studied the results and smiled. He turned to Zac.

  “Very good, Mr. Murphy. You can go.”

  “That’s it?”

  “In your case. There’s no need for further sessions. We’ve learned all we need to from this experiment. You’re able to cascade in anticipation of the event, and not just a normal increase in your bodily functions, but enough to negate the effects from a substantial shock. That was level eleven, with a considerable pain threshold associated with it. Yet you had no reaction, and unless we increase the voltage to an unreasonable level, your body will remain immune. It was as I suspected.”

  “I saw it coming, that was all.”

  Cross smirked, twisting his face into a question mark. “Do you wish to keep getting shocked, lieutenant?”

  Zac climbed quickly from the exam chair. “No sir! Not at all.”

  “Then leave. And don’t worry; we have other experiments lined up for you. You will not get bored.”

  “Knowing you—sir—that was never a concern.”

  Not all the experiments went smoothly. In two cases, Bravos had to be Twilighted when their bodies cascaded over the edge during shock sessions. Zac figured that was the goal, at least for the younger REVs; find out what it took to activate them, even without a dose of synthetic NT-4. Knowing that he could take some of the naturals right to the edge, where they would have maximum abilities while remaining in relative control, was Cross’s goal. Without a new mission for his two hundred four active-duty REVs, the program was destined for termination. And although Zac’s Temple of Light mission had ended in failure, having teams of near-activated REVs working together was Cross’s ultimate ambition, and closer to Dr. Clifford Slater’s dream of creating an army of so-called super-warriors.

  And for Col. Diamond, as the head of a special division of galactic spies and infiltrators, he could think of several ways to keep the REVs relevant, if only for the naturals within the program.

  Zac and Angus were walking along the space between Buildings Seven and Eight when they heard the shouting. It came from the dining area and involved three voices, two men and a woman. The senior REVs entered the building to investigate.

  Staff Sergeant Steven Fowler had one of the huge security guards by the neck and was holding him down on a dining table. A young and attractive nurse was pulling at Fowler’s arm, trying to get him to release the other man. It wasn’t happening.

  “Let him go, Steven. It was nothing!” the woman pleaded.

  Zac focused on the face of the young REV. It was flushed, but his eyes hadn’t turned bloodshot. He hadn’t cascaded all the way—not yet—but from the emotions in the room, he was well on his way.

  Before Zac and Angus could reach the man, another security guard entered the room from behind Fowler. He lifted the huge electric pulse weapon and triggered off a bolt. It splashed against the REV from behind, causing him to arch his back, his face now a study in angry agony.

  And that’s when Zac heard it: the primal scream of an activated REV.

  A moment later, the dead body of the first security guard was thrown across the room and against the far wall by a simple flick of the REV’s wrist. The second guard fired another bolt. This one had no effect on Fowler, except to draw his attention to the gunman. In a streak, the REV was on the second man and ripping him to shreds.

  Zac and Angus bounded over and around tables and chairs and leapt onto the back of the REV. Their bodies had cascaded, making them stronger and quicker than they’d been only a second before. But it wasn’t enough.

  Fowler dropped a shoulder, sending Angus tumbling over him and to the floor. He caught a powerful REV fist in the jaw.

  A normal man would be dead by now, but not Angus. He was strong and tough—not like the activated REV—but enough to withstand the hit. How many more he could tolerate was the question.

  Zac grabbed the young REV by the right arm, keeping him from delivering a second blow to Angus. The next moment, he was in the air and slamming into a metal wall, having been tossed aside with a single incredibly strong arm.

  Although Fowler was fully activated, he stood and glared at the two senior REVs, who themselves were continuing to cascade, gaining strength by the second. But there was something different in the eyes of the REV. Yes, they were bloodshot, round and intense, yet they also seemed to focus on Zac for a moment. There was an acknowledgment of sorts, a slight recognition.

  Then Fowler was gone, sprinting after a group of people making for the exits, drawn to the movement. Bodies were crushed and thrown aside, both women and men. By the time the young REV ran from the building, nine people were dead and two severely injured.

  Zac and Angus were out the door a split second later, following the crazed killer. Neither had been on this side of the fence, and it was…upsetting. Was this how they looked to others. A not-so-subtle understanding came to Zac. REVs are dangerous, and especially now when they had the ability to activate even without a dose of NT-4.

  Alarms were sounding in the underground complex. Most of the staff were experienced REV techs and trained to hide-in-place. The last thing they should do was run wildly through the corridors, attracting the attention of the REV. Still, Fowler was gone by the time Zac and Angus burst from the mess hall. There were a lot of sudden turns and corners among the thirteen buildings of the facility. He could be anywhere. Regrettably, Zac stood for a moment, waiting for the sound of a scream to guide his way.

  It came a second later, forward and to the right, next to building four, one of the barracks. It was after seven in the evening, and most of the medical and security staff would be moving about the complex before settling down in their rooms. There would be plenty of panicky targets for the activated REV.

  The two men ran off, having to moderate their REV-enhanced speed because of the slick, moist stone floors and the sudden turn they had to make to reach the sound of Fowler’s latest victim. It was one of the techs—Zac believed his name was Darren. He was bent in a variety of unnatural positions, with his dead eyes still opened. Zac caught a glimpse of Fowler as he turned around the corner of the building.

  The fact that the REV was running away from them was an indicator that something wasn’t normal. An activated REV didn’t recognize danger, just potential targets. And he never feared them. Instead, he would rush head-long towards them, with the single-minded intent to kill. Fowler must have some of his reasoning capacity still intact, recognizing the other two REVs as a threat. And he was trying to avoid them.

  Fowler entered the barracks building and sprinted up the stairway to the third level. He turned down the central hallway as Zac and Angus entered at the other end. The three REVs looked at each other. Then Fowler broke through a side doorway and into one of the staff quarters.

  It was Olivia’s room.

  Zac ran forward, reaching the shattered door a second later. He peered inside. Olivia was there, sitting on the edge of her bed, perfectly still. Fowler had his back to Zac and was scanning the room. There was a TV blaring and an active computer screen on a desk, with scenes cycling quickly. The REV was confused
, shifting his attention between the different objects. He looked at Olivia, holding her gaze for a moment before looking away.

  That’s when Zac pounced. He ran forward and tackled Fowler, pushing him forward and through the room’s only window. Both men tumbled three stories down to the unforgiving rock floor of the cavern. Neither was especially stunned or injured from the fall. Zac rolled away as Fowler jumped to his feet and turned towards him.

  A cacophony of gunfire erupted all around, echoing with amplified intensity off the stone walls. The guards had dispensed with their energy weapons and resorted to dependable—and deadly—traditional high-powered rifles, which used their ballistic rounds to tear into the body of the rampaging REV.

  Fowler wasn’t wearing armor, and although his body was magnitudes tougher than a normal man, a couple hundred rounds of lead was enough to rip his body to shreds. Security teams rushed forward and covered the bloody lump that had once been Steven Fowler. That’s when Zac noticed several of the rifle barrels were aimed at him.

  Although he couldn’t fault the nervous guards for their precaution, it still made him mad. He was leaning on one elbow, appearing perfectly calm and with normal eyes. Yet he was still considered a threat.

  “Stand down! Stand down!” said the frantic voice of Dr. David Cross. Zac didn’t turn his attention to the doctor, but kept it focused on the weapons pointed at him. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  “Lower your weapons, that’s an order!”

  The guards stared at Zac for a moment longer before obeying. No military orders would prevent the men from saving their own lives, if it came down to that.

  Zac got to his feet.

  “Are you all right?” Cross asked.