Rise of Aen

by Damian Shishkin

  It had been days of sorting through leads—most of which were bogus—and trying to decipher which ones held clues to the creature’s whereabouts. Sightings were many and random as he seemed to pop up all over the planet. One day he was in California, the next New Zealand, and then the next Brazil. There was no rhyme or reason for his movements, no pattern in which to learn anything about their new foe.

  Analysts poured over megabytes of data, trying to figure out anything, but came to a dead end. It was cunning, and seemed to be playing with them. In the Major’s opinion it was purposely jumping from place to place and letting itself be seen as to confuse them.

  “Pack Leader to Lead Dog,” he whispered into his collar microphone. “Any sign of the target?” He had to concentrate on the task at hand. A man of the target’s description had been seen repeatedly coming and going from this cottage. Days of surveillance had resulted in very little, but this morning they noticed movement inside so the decision to move in was made quickly.

  “Negative.” The voice droned back to him in a robotic tone. “No sign of target or any further movement inside. Shall we breach?”

  Avery thought for a moment, he was sick of being cold and wet. “Two, three and four; breach building and report when secure.”

  “Understood.” Growled three voices in return as the bushes rustled softly, and the camouflaged soldiers crept forward from their positions to slowly creep to the objective. The cottage was small, but isolated from the rest of the village and surrounded by large shrubberies so that any prying eyes of the neighbors would be shrouded. The only vantage point was from the hills in the distance. Major Wilson was positive he had all angles covered, going so far as to even recruiting Hardesty as a sniper for the mission, and placing him in the hills.

  “Three in position,” whispered a voice.

  “Two and four in position.”

  “Breach in five,” Wilson spoke quietly. “Four, three, two, BREACH!”

  From his position a hundred meters away, Wilson could hear the door breaking like he was right there! Two flash-bang grenades were thrown in and discharged before the three soldiers rushed the interior. Wilson waited, hearing only the sound of movement over the radios as the team searched the interior. One at a time, the “men” reported in.

  “Four clear.”

  “Two clear.”

  “Three has a body, alive but barely. Not the target.”

  Wilson sat straighter and grabbed his battle display screen. “Give me eyes, three. Show me what you’ve got.”

  The screen was static for what seemed to be an eternity, but eventually a blurry image began to focus into view. Slowly, the Major could make out the shape of a body hung from the rafters by a rope tying its hands together. As the image cleared, he could make out the fatigues of a soldier through the haze and recognized the man before the beaten and bruised face came to view—Hardesty! Wilson’s head began to scan the hills frantically, looking for any sign of the enemy.

  “You look worried, Major.” A new and unknown voice piped up on the comm channel. “Is there something wrong?”

  “All units hold positions!” Wilson barked loudly. “Make sure you have cover, we’ve been made. Target has us fixed!”

  “Indeed. Take heed of this warning Avery Wilson. I have detailed files of your team and your families. I have been studying all of you and know more about you every day. Take this particular example. Finding him was relatively easy; stalking him and readying him for this moment was enjoyable.”

  “You bastard!” Wilson screamed. “For all his faults, Hardesty is still a…”

  “A piece of shit! He was a borderline serial killer given a gun and a uniform; his life will not be missed!”

  “No one deserves to be tortured like that.” Wilson was beginning to match his foe’s rage, but this time there was no banter back, just silence. “Did you run off, you coward?”

  In response to his challenge, Wilson watched through the helmet cam as Hardesty’s chest exploded—three rounds burst through it, spattering blood and flesh over the witnesses inside. A second after, three cracks resounded down from the hills as the sound of the rifle firing reached the crew.

  A feeling of helplessness overtook him. Above him, there was an angry man with a high-powered sniper rifle and anyone; including him, could be the next to fall at a moment’s notice! Wilson crouched as low as he could and remained still in the foliage, trying to keep from being seen from above.

  “Scary, isn’t it?” the voice crackled in his headset. “To have your life completely in the hands of someone else with no control over if you live or die is a horrible feeling. How helpless do you feel right now? Are you thinking about your wife right now? How much do you want to be in her arms right now?”

  Wilson stood and raised his rifle, looking through the scope frantically as he scanned the hills for his tormentor. The creature had pushed his buttons perfectly and now rage fuelled him as he sought to end the incessant chatter that was harassing him.

  Movement caught his eye from his left—Wilson spun quickly and aimed at the incoming target. A fraction of a moment before he fired, Avery noticed that it wasn’t the alien but one of the hybrid soldiers—0008 to be exact, their names and identities wiped away from them. Lowering his firearm, he waved the soldier to hurry into cover.

  In an instant, 0008’s head twitched violently as a bullet tore through it and expelled the grey matter of his brain on the trees beside him. The hybrid was dead before the sound of the gunshot began to echo off the surrounding hills. Once again, the Major raised his weapon and began to track a target again; this time he had a general direction in which to look as he followed the trajectory of the kill shot.

  “Oops.” The voice said with a hint of joyfulness. “Guess I’m getting pretty good with this thing. It was so nice of Hardesty to offer me his weapon before I rendered him unconscious.”

  “Show yourself asshole! Stop playing games!”

  “Now what fun would that be?” It snickered to him. “Was that one of them? One of the freaks you made with my blood? Taylor will be upset, it must have cost a small fortune to make him the perfect mindless drone?”

  Wilson saw a small flash up in the hills; his training kicked in as he thought he recognized the glint of sunlight off his adversary’s scope. He honed his aim in on the flash. “Got you!” he whispered as he pulled his trigger.

  As he did, pain seared in his side as the edge of a combat knife tore through his vest, covered in his blood. He felt a hand close in on his throat and felt himself be drawn near.

  “You missed,” the voice hissed in his ear.

  Wilson fell to the ground as Aen release his grip on him. He looked up at the creature standing over him, but saw little but some kind of armour-clad being before him; the colors of the armor shifted as the trees around it moved in the wind and rain like it was alive.

  “Consider that a warning shot Major, I won’t be so lenient next time we meet.” It squatted down on its haunches to finish addressing him. “Tell the powers-that-be how easy this was for me, and that continuing this pursuit of me will only cost them more of their precious freaks.” Wilson could hear footsteps approaching; the rest of his team was rushing to his aide. “Anger is a wonderful motivator, one that will fuel me to finish this if you and yours don’t back off! I am beyond your petty plans for me, and I will be merciless if I have to.”

  As it stood up again, Wilson felt a warmth well up inside and watched as the creature disappeared in a flash of light. In a blink of an eye, he was gone! The voices of his men as they arrived one by one to where he lay in a pool of mud and blood brought him back to his senses. Years of training told him that the knife had been placed in the perfect spot, passing through him but missing anything vital. He knew he would live, but wondered at the gravity of the creature’s threats.

  I am beyond your petty plans, it had said. The
words rang in his mind over and over as he felt himself hoisted onto a stretcher. Carefully, the Major pondered these words and wondered exactly how much he had underestimated his target. He thought of the remnants of the morgue back at the lab and hoped this thing would never realize its true potential before he had a chance to end this. Wilson knew now there was no taking this thing alive. The stakes had been raised today and it had drawn a definite line in the sand. It was it or them; but in the end, one or the other would be dead by the end of this. As his fingers slowly caressed the knife edge that protruded from his gut, he fearfully wondered if any of them had what it took to bring this new threat down.

  Rocky Mountains, Utah –

  Military Installation Code Named White Rock

  With a thunderous crash, the coffee mug exploded as it crashed against the wall and General Patterson screamed in frustration. The mission report was scrunched up in his left hand and he paced up and down the board room as General Taylor and Sergeant Davis watched with fearful apprehension. Usually Patterson was reserved and calm, but now he was in a furor few had ever seen him in.

  “What the fuck happened?” he screamed. “How the hell did this thing lay down a perfect ambush for ten well trained soldiers?”

  Neither soldier was stupid enough to even open their mouths, never mind attempt to answer the irate General.

  “And now it issues a warning; is it declaring war on us? Is it him that brings the rapture down on us?” His voice was wavering slightly as the anger was being overcome with fear. “Taylor, you made this thing so I want you to take over the recovery team with Wilson as your second in command, soon as he’s up to rejoining you. He’s obviously overmatched on this task!”

  “Yes, sir!” Taylor barked. He didn’t want to go on this mission, but the times called for leadership and cunning, so it was a logical choice.

  “Davis, get me everything we have on who this guy was before we snatched him. I want to know what he was in to and what he was reading. For fuck’s sake, ten men just got owned by a fucking banker!”

  “Yes, sir!” she snapped a salute and started for the door before he stopped her.

  “And get the surveillance on the family reissued; the fucker obviously has full cognitive memory of his former life and may try to reach out to them. Watch them like hawks!”

  She snapped another salute and dashed out the door to get the orders instituted. As she rushed down the hall, Davis was relieved to be out of the line of fire; at least temporarily. The general had every right to be scared—as did she—because this creature had access to weapons and had them aimed directly at the project and those responsible for him being there. As far as she was concerned, everyone in the building had a set of crosshairs aimed directly at them!

  SIX

  Highbury, England

  Rain cascaded off his armor as Aen sat in the sparse clearing at the top of the hill. The shock of what had transpired stopped him in his tracks and made him take a seat on a stump. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would ever be capable of such actions—even the thought of killing a man had never entered his mind! But today he had been something different, today anger and malice had fueled him, and that forced him to become something he could never be in his former life.

  He knew he should be on the run and not hang around so close to where he challenged the soldiers, but his legs felt rubbery and refused to move. Below in the valley he could see the men of the strike team huddled around their fallen leader as the helicopter transport slowly descended towards them. All eyes were on the men below, so he was lucky in the sense that no one would notice the lone figure watching them from above. Even if they were looking for him, Aen was sure the image-reflecting armour would mask him.

  It was something that truly amazed him, so much so that thinking about this technology roused him from his state of shock. Made to fit his exact body, the armor was two separate parts acting as one. Beneath lay a form-fitting bodysuit that allowed for maximum movement efficiency, while still able to hold up to enemy strikes. On top, covering more vital areas, was metallic armour made from a substance he had never seen before. It was lightweight, flexible, but could crush a wrecking ball if it struck him. Add to that the reflective properties of the armor once powered up, and he was a walking tank. He only hoped that Caretaker was able to adapt the gauntlets of the next suit to better fit him; the three-fingered gloves were more than uncomfortable as he struggled to fit his ring and pinky fingers in the third finger of the ones he wore now.

  Inside his chest, his heart beat in a slow and steady rhythm. He felt his senses return and the drumming in his chest helped calm his nerves. Aen began to realize that nothing he did from now on would be within the normal lines of his old life. His place in the world had drastically changed and no matter what he had said to others, it was he who had to do some quick adjusting, the evidence of which lay in his hands in the form of a high-powered sniper rifle he acquired from his first victim.

  Victim. He chuckled at the context he used that word in. To him it was like the veil had come crashing down all at once. Before this incident, everything was simply surreal—until a few hours ago. Once merely a sheep in the flock he went about his life with a merry blindness; now his eyes had been opened to the madness around him and he was transformed into the proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing. And as he looked down upon the men loading their fallen comrades into the chopper, Aen realized that is how he saw them, as prey!

  It wasn’t a shocking revelation to him, but more of a final push to accept what he now was. No longer was he bound by the morals and laws he had grown up with; no longer was he tied to the life he used to live. Or was he?

  Aen’s thoughts returned to his family and that the possibility of repercussions for what he had done today was high. It was a minor foresight, but one that could be easily corrected. He had sent a message to these men and if they were thinking of trying to use his family against him, it would be time to send a stronger one. Standing for the first time in a bit, his anxiety had washed away with the steady rain and he was clear headed at last. Aen took one last look at the helicopter as it began its ascent into retreat and simply disappeared from where he once stood.

  Himalayan Mountains, Mount Kailash, Tibet

  “I don’t think that is what Ameia had in mind when she said to help you practice your abilities.” The construct, Caretaker, droned. “The human’s defence network is full of inquiries about you. I believe you hit them a bit too hard.”

  Aen wasn’t willing to waiver in his conviction, but arguing with a machine would be a test in true insanity. He simply resumed shedding his armour and looked for more appropriate clothing to hide in the world with.

  “They needed a slap to the face, so as to remind them that I am not theirs to control.”

  “But in doing so, have you not tipped your hand at revenge?”

  A good question, one that Aen himself had fought with the entire time he had plotted the day’s events. Life always responded to events; his actions would escalate theirs and then would continue until there was no one left standing. But when he mapped out the whole thing in his mind logically, he had done the right thing. Now they knew he was superior to them, but the question still lingered with them, and in his mind, by how much.

  “So you are tapped in to the defence network now?” Aen asked, trying to change the subject.

  “I am connected to the entire planet’s communications, Aen.” It replied boastfully. “There is precious little going on in this planet that I do not know of, thanks to the human’s obsession with social networking.”

  This thing which had been little more than his conscience just proved itself to now be invaluable. The advantage he now held was astronomical; he would know their moves before they even made them!

  “Tell me, have they made any threat to my wife or daughter yet?”

  “Not a threat, per se, but they have
re-established constant observation of them. I believe this is a result of your ‘slap in the face’ earlier today as these orders are very recent. Also to note, they have placed General Taylor in charge of the mission to find and retrieve you. Interesting...”

  “What is interesting?

  “Taylor’s orders are to bring you in alive, but his communications to the team is to shoot first and if you live, then all is well. He seems to have a personal agenda that directly conflicts with his orders. How very interesting. He goes so far as to offer the thought on using your family as bait to ensnare you.”

  Aen had finished changing into the suit that he wore the last time he saw his daughter. It was well tailored and made him look quite distinguished with the exception of his blue tinted dark hair. It was shoulder length and gave him a youthful billionaire look that made the whole outfit its style. Donning his dark sunglasses completed the disguise, and Aen was now ready to venture out.

  “Indeed.” He responded to his holographic companion and turned around with a sinister smile on his face. “Let’s throw a wrench into these plans of his and see what happens.”

  Bristol County, Massachusetts

  It was a cloudy day and rain threatened to cut her weekly visit short, but Sara was determined to see out her full time with her dad. Armed with an umbrella tucked neatly in her pocket, she would be ready for when the heavens opened up. This was her time, her only time of solace, and she wasn’t going to let anything take it from her.

  With one eye on the clouds, she sauntered up the path to her father’s grave, a song she had heard on the radio played in her mind as she hummed the tune. Merrily, she walked along and was clueless to anything but the impending weather and the task at hand. Maybe it was this reason why she was so startled to see the man from the day before standing at her destination. She slowed her walking as she could hear him talking and wanted to sneak up unheard.