The Beginning (Book 3): Tragic Impulse

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The Beginning (Book 3): Tragic Impulse Page 8

by Shepp, Roman


  He never gave the man a second thought. He didn't even remember what he looked like, such was the instant burst of violence. Bursting into the bunker, Quentin relished all the frightened faces illuminated by the dim candlelight. Some he recognized, others were new to him, but they all were there to be taught a lesson. Glancing quickly at them, Quentin saw that another two soldiers were present. The likelihood that they also had guns was high. So, before they could draw them he flung himself in the middle of the crowd. They would have to risk hurting the others if they wanted to shoot him. Quentin was sure he could take them out before that happened. None of these people would hurt him again.

  Finally, he was about to exact vengeance for their crimes. They thought they had escaped him, but there was no escape, and this passageway suited Quentin perfectly. There were many of them and only one of him. Yet, he could use his strength to barge into them and shove them aside while they were a mass of uncoordinated limbs. Quentin felt the sweet rush flood through him as he pushed the first soldier back and slammed him against the floor. He heard the others cry ‘Run!’, but it was hopeless. He was in the bunker now, and he wouldn't stop until they all were dead.

  Chapter Ten

  “Get behind me!” Tony yelled, trying to push the others past him.

  The corridor was narrow. Everyone was falling over themselves trying to get into the safety of the bunker, away from the masked maniac who just had killed Donald. The young soldier's legs still were visible at the entrance of the bunker. The masked man had given them barely any time to react. How long had he been waiting out there? Tony thought they had escaped him, and that he would have moved on by now. With all the talk of this other threat, and the reunion with Frank, it almost had been too easy to forget the masked man still was out there.

  “I can't get a shot!” Steve cried out as the man barreled into him, throwing him against the wall.

  In such close quarters any bullets flying through the air could have hit someone else. The dim light of the candles flickered with all the movement. Groot barked loudly. Tony kept trying to pull people around him. The only way seemed to be back into the bunker. Maybe they could regroup, but part of him wondered if they weren't just gathering themselves to be slaughtered.

  Even without a gun the masked man was a formidable force. He held Steve by the neck, smashing him against the wall, over and over again. Steve was by no means a small man, but he was being handled like a rag doll by the tall, ferocious villain. The man's muscles were bulging. He groaned in anguish as he slammed Steve's body against the wall yet again. Steve flailed and writhed, scratching and clawing at the mans arms, to no avail. Tony was trying to get through the mass of bodies, but Frank and the other two politicians had turned around and were fighting their way through, trying to get into the depths of the bunker, as far away from the masked man as was humanly possible. The other two civilians were following suit, the two women too scared to fight. Tony doubted they had any fight left in them, and he hoped he never would feel the same way.

  “Steve! Fight back!” Rosa cried in despair. She had been knocked off her feet by the fleeing politicians and was scrambling to get back up. Light turned to shadow as the candles flickered with all the movement. “I'm coming!” she yelled.

  Tony saw her reach for her gun. Before she could fire there was a sickening crack and the light went out of Steve's eyes. His head hung limply, and the man cast him aside. The masked man’s strength was immense. Tony wondered how they ever were going to defeat him. The last time they had met him, they obviously had been fortunate. They would not be so lucky again. For whatever reason, the mystery man was hell-bent on killing them. Yet, Tony was not going to let that happen.

  “Get Tara out of here!” Tony shouted, hoping that either Saeed or Jane would hear him and rescue the girl. Tony would have done it himself, but he knew his place was to fight this man and stop him from killing his friends.

  Rosa managed to find her feet. Tony still was behind her. Filled with fury, Rosa raised her gun, but the man was quicker. He shoved her arm aside. The shot rang out, but it lodged harmlessly in the side of the bunker. The man looked so foreboding, though, that Tony wondered if even a bullet could slay him.

  No, he was just a man. He could be harmed. Tony remembered that. The last time they had encountered him they had managed to drive him away by revealing his face. Maybe that was the key. Everyone had a weakness. If they could get the mask off, maybe the man would stop, unable to face himself.

  “Go for the mask!” he shouted, but it was too late. Rosa's arm was bent back. She cried out in pain. The man rammed her with his shoulder and then swept her legs out from under her, sending her crashing to the floor.

  The man wheezed and glared at Tony. Everyone else was behind Tony. Just Tony, the masked man, and Groot remained. They were the last line of defense. Steve's body was face down. Rosa was curled up, her wounds evidently too painful for her to continue the fight. Maybe the psychological wounds were just as powerful. Seeing her two trained allies being killed so ruthlessly would have taken its toll on anyone. Maybe the sane thing for her to do was to stay down. Not that Tony had much time to think about Rosa's reasoning. He had to focus on Quentin. The man had taken out soldiers. What could Tony do? Fear flowed through him. Behind Quentin he saw the promise of daylight. Sweet freedom. But he had to stand his ground. People depended on him.

  Growling, looking like a monster, the man strode forward. His muscles were tensed. He looked like a gladiator, ready and willing to kill. The mask covered half his face, making him seem even more inhuman. He was so tall he looked like a god, marching as though he owned the planet. Although Tony kept trying to tell himself he was just a man, Tony couldn't shake the feeling that he was something more. Something like a force of nature.

  Groot was braver than Tony. The pit bull ran forward on his stumpy legs, spittle flying from his mouth as he bared his sharp teeth, ready to attack. Tony saw what the man was planning, though, how he would show no mercy to an animal. Tony wasn't ready for Groot to be wounded. Two soldiers had been killed already, without remorse, and another was lying helpless. Tony didn't know how he was going to last much longer than them, but he had to face the man for the sake of his friends.

  “I'm coming, Tony!” Phil yelled. Tony didn't waste any time looking back, not wanting to take his eyes off the villain.

  “Stay back! Protect the others!” Tony said. Hopefully, he could hold the man off for long enough so the others could prepare a defense. The bunker was supposed to be a safe place. That was the entire reason they had made it their mission to find it, but now it was more like a tomb. Tony wasn't going to let it become that.

  Flexing his fingers, he gripped the wooden bat tightly. The two of them had been through so much together, and if this was where it ended, then so be it. At least he would be giving his friends a chance, and that was all that mattered.

  Time seemed to slow down. Before him he saw Groot rushing forward. The man's face was twisted with anger. One of his eyes was cast in a shadow from the mask. The other was bloodshot, filled with hatred, looking directly at Tony. It was as though some ethereal, supernatural energy crackled through him, as though he was staring into the eyes of a devil. The more time he spent in the presence of this man the harder it was to remember that he was just a man. But men could be killed, and after this Tony was sure that only one of them would remain standing. The odds were against him, but odds were not certainty. As long as he was alive and willing to fight there always was a chance, and as long as that chance remained Tony would give his everything.

  Roaring, swinging the bat back as far as he could to get the most impact, Tony was surprised at how serene he felt. Everything seemed calm, and all was still, although somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware of the thumping drumbeat of his heart. His mind skipped ahead, and he saw the future. The bat would hit its mark. The man, distracted by Groot, wouldn't be able to defend himself. The mask would crack, and the man would fall to the floor.
Everyone would be saved.

  But that was just one possible future, and it wasn't the future Tony would live. For a moment, triumph bloomed in his mind. His lips began curling into a smile, for he knew his aim was true. The baseball bat arced through the air. But then everything changed. The man was quicker than Tony ever could have anticipated. Groot also hadn't distracted him as much as Tony had hoped. The bat’s momentum was stopped dead as the masked man caught it within his hands. Pain reverberated through Tony's arms at the jarring end of his strike, although the man seemed unfazed. Tony was astonished at how much pain the man could take. Was it even possible to kill him?

  Tony struggled to keep hold of the bat, but it was only a brief struggle. He could not compete with the man for strength. The bat was ripped from his hands, tossed aside, rolling until it rested against the body of Captain Roberts. Before he could react, Tony felt two hands grip his throat. Air was cut off. Tony's legs flailed as he was lifted up into the air. His fists beat out against the man's arms, but he may as well have been hitting the man with feathers, such was the strength of his blows. Tony's eyes widened and that feeling of calm serenity had been blasted away, replaced by sheer panic, and the overriding thought that he wasn't ready to die.

  Tossed aside, he landed on his back, the breath flowing from his lungs upon impact. Everywhere ached as he rolled around. He managed to turn himself over and weakly tried crying out for Groot to stop the attack. The dog knew no fear and lunged forward at the masked man. Effortlessly, the man grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and lifted him up. Groot's jaws snapped, and his paws tried clawing at the man, but he was holding Groot too far away from himself. The man snarled and tossed Groot to Tony, who grunted as the dog's weight fell upon his chest, pinning him to the floor for the moment.

  Despite all he had been through, Tony never had felt as much fear as he had in that moment. Craning his neck, he looked up to see the man marching inexorably into the bunker, on the way to hurt Tony's friends.

  Struggling to breathe, struggling to move, Tony pushed himself up. He had to hold Groot back.

  “Not now, boy. Stay. Heel,” he said breathlessly. The commands still had just enough force to override Groot's animal instincts. Tony crawled over and grabbed his bat, although even holding it hurt. His arms shook from the effort it had taken to try resisting the man. Rosa still was down, so Tony went to help her up, knowing he'd need all the help he could get before the man tore everyone apart.

  Tony could hear him now, roaring like a lion as he strode through the bunker. Tony saw Megan and Brian running toward him, the cowardly politicians seeking to escape rather than join the fight. How typical, Tony thought wryly. But they didn't get very far. Two huge hands reached and grabbed them by the shoulders, hauling them back. Brian sank to his knees, hands clasped in prayer to this almighty man. The masked man was deaf to the pleas, though. Still with one hand holding Megan, he kicked Brian, making the old man fall to the floor, then drove his knee into the man's face. Brian let out a shrill, inhuman cry. It was more cat than man. The shriek curdled Tony's blood. Then Brian was silent.

  Megan was in hysterics, but she was not alive for much longer either. The man forced her to her knees then put his hands around her head, enveloping them in his tough flesh. Her moans were suffocated as his hand clamped around her mouth. Her eyes were wide with panic for a few moments, then they closed, and she floated to the floor beside her companion. Frank was nowhere to be seen.

  Fighting against the pain, Tony pushed himself up and forward, trying to get to the inner depths of the bunker where his friends were defending themselves. He managed to make it to the end of the slope when he saw Saeed torn between defending himself and protecting Tara. The girl was standing behind him, peering out with frightened eyes. Already she had seen so much, suffered so much. When would it end? When would this world bring peace to the innocent? Martha and Belinda were beside him as well, looking just as scared as Tara. Jane and Phil were preparing to defend themselves, and it was in their direction that the masked man moved.

  Phil swung his arm wildly, the sharp appendage looking frightening, but unwieldy. However, it did give the masked man pause.

  “Saeed, get Tara and the others out of here,” Tony said.

  Saeed nodded, but before he left Martha looked at the room in which they had been staying and ran away, keeping low, as though she was dodging invisible bullets. Saeed looked anxiously toward her, keeping his hand on Tara. A few moments passed before Martha returned again. Tony wondered if the woman had lost her mind, but when she returned carrying the map, Tony understood. She nodded toward Saeed, and the four of them moved away.

  “I'll come back to help,” Saeed said, keeping one eye on the masked man, who was transfixed on the sword arm.

  “No, just stay safe, these people need you. I'll see you again soon,” Tony said, hoping he wasn't lying. Saeed nodded toward him and escorted the others out, running to the sweet freedom of outside. At least a few lives had been saved, although Tony hoped that Saeed had the presence of mind to flee completely rather than waiting to rescue Tara, Martha and Belinda. Right now, the most important thing was to keep everyone alive.

  “Do something with that arm, man!” Frank yelled out, standing near Jane and Phil.

  “I'm doing my best!” Phil said, but having a sword for an arm was not as deadly or dangerous as Phil first had assumed. The weapon swung wildly, and to get enough momentum Phil had to swing his entire body. The masked man edged closer to Phil the entire time. He had worked out the rhythm of Phil's attacks. He waited for the perfect moment to strike, kicking Phil in the back, sending him staggering away.

  By this point, Rosa had stood up and was beside Tony. He watched as she drew her weapon once more and took aim, but Tony pushed her aside. The man was right by Jane and if Rosa's aim had not been perfect, Jane would have been shot. Tony couldn't allow that to happen. Rosa cursed when the bullet hit the ceiling.

  “You could have hit Jane!” Tony explained.

  “I would have made the shot!” Rosa yelled back, glaring at him. Maybe it was the wrong call. Maybe Tony should have trusted the expert to do her job, but when it came to Jane he wasn't going to take any chances.

  The masked man's attention had been distracted by the shot, though. He turned to face them and started moving toward Rosa, who was so filled with anger that she ran to meet him. Jane kicked at the man, hitting him in the back, and now he was in the middle of three of them pounding on him. For a moment, Tony thought they were going to win, and he almost was getting ready to call Saeed back inside. He summoned the strength to wade into battle, but only made it a few steps before he heard Rosa yell. Frank had shifted around to her and grabbed her gun, knocking her out of the way.

  “It's time to end this,” Frank said, and pointed the gun straight at the masked man's head.

  Pushing Rosa out of the way had given the masked man a chance for respite, and he used this to jab a fist into Frank's stomach. Another shot rang out, this one narrowly missing Jane, who paused to yell at Frank. Tony's heart broke as he saw them lose the advantage. They had been so close, but now the masked man had a chance to reassert himself. Without hesitation, he grabbed Frank’s head and then Jane's and smashed them together. They dropped like dead weights, groaning loudly, helpless to anyone else.

  “No!” Tony cried, finding an extra burst of strength to run forward.

  “Get them out of here!” Tony yelled.

  Phil waddled over to the fallen people while Tony goaded the masked man, who was mumbling incoherently. It seemed as though he thought he was attacking more people than were actually in the bunker.

  “...not anymore...no... you're all going to die...you've all betrayed me for the last time...I won't be a joke anymore.”

  Rosa glared at Tony and wanted to fight more.

  “I can't do this by myself,” Phil said tersely. “They can't walk on their own.”

  “I've got this. Just be safe. I'll catch up with you,” Tony sa
id, turning to face the masked man. He heard Rosa curse again, followed by Phil saying ’Good luck. Tony would need all the luck he could get. But he'd done it. All his friends were safe.

  “Just me and you now’, boy,” he said under his breath. Groot whimpered.

  The masked man rubbed his head and stalked around the bunker, talking to people who weren't there. Tony swallowed, trying to ignore the pain that ran up and down his arms and all over his body. He knew this very well could be his last stand, and he had to make it long enough to give his friends the best chance of escaping. The masked man walked around in a circle, and for a moment Tony wondered if the masked man was still aware of him.

  “Stay QUIET! My name is not Quentin now. I don't have a name. I am not a man. I am not a man. I am something more. I am what everyone must meet. I am death. I am DEATH!” he screamed. Then his eyes seemed to focus on Tony once more.

  Groot barked. Tony felt so small compared to this giant, who lunged toward him. Somehow, Tony managed to duck and dodge the blow, but it was only prolonging the inevitable. Facing with this man, feeling the heat of his breath, Tony knew he never would be able to defeat him. It all would end soon, and Tony would make the ultimate heroic sacrifice.

  It was strange, though. Tony didn't feel hatred for the man. In a way, he felt pity. The man obviously was troubled and needed help more than he needed anything else. But in this world, there was no hope for people like him. There were no counselors, no therapists. Everyone was out for themselves and, unfortunately, that meant others would fall victim to him. If Tony died, like he thought he might, then Quentin would be free again to hurt others. That couldn't be allowed. Tony had to find some way to survive.

 

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