Brink began shouting orders. “They wouldn’t risk going to the fourth and fifth floor, but we can’t allow them to escape if they are. Team 1, stay on this floor and surround the area. Team 2, scope the upper floors. We will handle the middle. Understood?” Why all the shouting? River thought.
“Affirmative!” His soldiers cried out.
So loyal or so blind. River couldn’t decide which.
“River, Ragnar, you are coming with me.”
“Any reason for that,” River said, grinning.
“Keeping an eye on both of you is one and Ragnar might want his revenge is another.”
Putting it on kind of thick there, huh, Brinkies. “You’re right. Carry on.”
Slipping into the anger in his blood, Ragnar didn’t notice the lies. If he was only a little calmer, he might have seen it. It wasn’t hard to see. River found that adorable. The fact that you could be so mad that it blinded and crippled you was a good game to play.
“As a courtesy, I will take point.” Brink grasped his gun, walking passed River. “The moment I see that you are up to something I’m going to shoot you.”
“I have no clue what you are talking about, Brinkies.”
“Good because you’re an ally, not a friend.”
“Oh you know what a friend is. Can you spell it? You have those? Please tell me more about that!”
“I had more than you realized. That can’t be said about you. Now, let’s get going shall we?”
“Of course!”
She let him take his lead, but she couldn’t promise to let him keep it.
17
Death by Thirst
“This is what happens when you let someone play in the sandbox for too long. They start thinking they’re in control"
Everyone thought that Drifter kept Wood in check. In some grounds, that was true. Drifter held the leash. However, the leash was chained around his wrist. The human couldn’t separate from the dog. They kept each other in line. Or the opposite, they allowed each other to go wild. Now we’re awake, Wood thought. Both of them were sleeping before.
Huston was plenty different than it was at a distance. The tall buildings leaned upon each other like dominos. Glass from the windows bounced the moon’s glow from one to another endlessly. Bridges and overpasses buckled under their own weight, leaving very few entrances into the metropolis. Cars littered the roads, filled with the bones of drivers that had no way to defend themselves. Any vegetation that once decorated the city was now either dead, or inversely, out of control. The latter crept into any water it could find, creating webs of ivies and weeds throughout the landscape.
In the dark, Wood only saw thick greys. Daylight gave the city a fractal quality. Now in moonlight, it was just bathed in depression. A city once full of life had been rendered down to only a mass of concrete and hopelessness. As the trucks rolled on, the name of the Tear became more and more obvious. Being so close to the water, the land opened, splitting the state in half. Water from the Gulf seeped in in small waves to the city, going in with the tide of the night. If anything could show how damaged the world was, it was here.
Wood stood on the trucks, peering deeply into the darkness. Crisium had much better night vision than he, but considering her injuries, she was currently left out of the battle. That required the next best thing, him, to be the scout for tonight. They were in dangerous territory. From all accounts, it belonged to the Ancestors. However, from the look of it, that was contested. Savage groups usually liked the main cities.
They fought like savage dogs, Wood heard on his travels. Usually, Drifter never chose a side in these. This time was going to be different. They were going into contested territories looking for a fight. They were one of the sides and Drifter was bloodthirsty. His uncle took no company since his speech, sitting in silence as he read. Only Wood knew of his plan. To the rest he told them simply to watch the show.
His mind drifted off for a moment, eyes still sharp. The next thought came of Graham. That idiot and his group of idiots devised the diversion. Despite their disagreements, Graham had something going for him. He believed this world could change and people needed to be protected. Drifter knew that too. Both knew now that blood was going to be spilled for this cause. Peace only went so far in this world, or the world before. Wood stared down at his hands, blood that he knew too well.
“Thinking isn’t going to make this any better.” Heron appeared behind him. The slender woman moved with elegance, carefully sitting beside him. “Graham made the choice. I dare say that he changed you a bit.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t do what?” Heron tapped her cheek. “You found him sort of intriguing. All of us did.”
“He’s pretty good.”
“You act like you aren’t,” Heron laughed, “You just hide it.”
“I hide it. But, cruelty’s a good mask, ain’t it?
Heron, caught off guard for a moment, quickly recovered. “You’re pretty good with words. I heard that you taught. What did you teach?”
“Biology. High school.”
“Oh…oh!” The revelation meet her eyes. Heron had pieced together the connections with teaching and his crime. Sweeping her hair from her face, she lowered her gaze. “Seeing a real hero is different than making one up for your own tale. That’s why you’re intrigued.”
“That would do it, miss. How’s it lookin’ from a former damsel in distress point of view?”
Heron went painfully quiet, looking down. This time she laughed at herself. “You’re quite right…”
Dropping their verbal battle, they soaked in the atmosphere before the actual battle. Minutes from now, it was going to get noisy. For now, the two just sat under the stars as they approached what would be their destination. Wood glanced deeper into the surroundings. He saw movement now, only shades within the ever expanding shadow that combated the moonlight and its lively, yet borrowed, rays. The lights of the caravan went off, war wagons moving slowly. We’re getting close.
Heron pulled out her radio, tapping the side button. “I’m seeing some movement.”
The radio buzzed back. “Movement, eh?” Haggis answered.
“Specifics, lassy.” As usual, the other brother asked in kind.
“I can’t see ‘em,” Wood answered, cynically.
Heron repeated the reply, adding: “Just because we have moonlight doesn’t mean we can see everything.”
“Then what good’s either of ya then? Can we get Drifter on the line?” Haggis joked.
Drifter was planning. Wood’s skills weren’t the only reason he was sent away. “No distraction until it’s absolutely necessary,” he told him. Low on numbers, low on resources, but still full of tricks, that is how Drifter rose to power. There were very little times he liked to be alone. Company was something that had become used to. Solidarity only had the company of thoughts. “Are you finished plannin’, Unc?” Wood said, having grabbed Heron’s radio.
The radio crackled back: “Already on the line, ladies and gents.” His voice was smoother than even before. For a minute, no one recognized that it was him. As captivating as a preacher, but a smooth as a radio host he asked: “Are y’all ready for a show?”
In his mind’s eye, Wood could see his uncle in a chair, feet kicked back. One of his endless arrays of hats would be tilted over his eyes, grin widening. Whatever broke in his mind, it wasn’t his charisma. In fact, it seemed to have gotten better and more controlled. A tune set in his words. “I’ve been ready for a sweet bit people, my people. The question stands, are y’all ready?”
No one said no. Everyone still bubbled with revenge.
“Woody.” Uncle only called him that for one reason. Wood felt his skin boil at the thought.
“You’re gonna want to get into the car, Heron.”
She nodded and left without a rebuttal.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt, my boy, but business needs to be done. I’m gonna ask aga
in, for you this time. Are you ready?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Formalities, my boy. I ain’t about to give up my manners over somethin’ as foolish as blood. I apologize for sayin’ it my boy. But alrighty then. Go ring the dinner bell cause…your parents are home.”
The moments before always stood still. Tears filled his eyes when he heard the words. It was the only thing that could make him that angry. It was those people, those meat bags that he tried to recover from that ignited blind emotions. It felt good to let it go sometimes. That is why Drifter chose it. It was the only thing that harmed him and healed him at the same time.
Bones were the first to crack into place, bending back. Skin peeled from his skin, a thick carapace tearing through. His back cracked into place as his body expanded with muscle. His back would then create a shell, twisting and turning through his muscles to make room. Remaining skin that he had left would turn green. His hands and feet changed, morphing into claw like features from five digits to three.
The face was the worse. He felt it open as the jaw became wider and extra teeth burrowed through the gums. His skull became narrower, green hair longer and wild and eyes thinner and sharper. He had to think of things in this phase; a pain and happiness that rivaled everything that he felt. They abandoned you. It took years to find a family I cared about. One that cared about me.
That made this pain worth going through. The depth of his gratitude couldn’t be measured in pain. And he would destroy. Destroy everything that ever thought about touching the person, maybe even people that would learned to love him. They tried to kill him. Realization stung deep. Maybe it hadn’t settled until now, but it had. They were all going to die.
Thin moss-colored insect wings sprouted from his shoulders. No one touches them.
_
Buzzing. The night sky rippled with the sound of buzzing.
Two officers, Eric and Aaron, was patrol on the rim of Huston. Night settled in pretty well amongst the long streets. Most of the time, security wouldn’t even be this tight. No one dared to enter the city at this time of night. The city was fairly quiet, aside from the rattle of gun fire from time to time. Usually it was to put down a savage mutant that stumbled their way across the city’s divide. Even then, it was usually short and followed by endless silence. Buzzing never came into play.
At first they tried to ignore it. The two soldiers, both lean and cladded in black armor, continued on their path. The buzzing slowly increased in volume. When it began, it was only a small sound like a ringing in the ears. Now, it was loud like a monstrous wasp or mosquito. The radio linked into their helmets crackled and fizzed, humming as though jammed. Aaron, the shorter of the two, removed his ear piece. He tapped against his helmet for a moment, befuddled. “Know what’s going on here?” he asked, finally taking the entire helm off.
“Something may be up with the tower, hell if I know. I’m no tech expert,” his partner answered, glaring towards the tower.
But that didn’t explain the buzzing. Even with his helmet off, Aaron heard how loud the buzzing actually was. It swelled into his eardrums, rocking them with a hurtful frequency. He touched the inside of his ear. Blood stained his gloves. “I don’t think this is a normal thing.”
Aaron waited for a response from Eric. All he received nothing but a wordless croak.
“What’s going—oh—damn.”
That was the last word he said, before having his face ripped off.
_
After doing it for so long, killing became easy.
Wood landed in the city, as stealthy as a giant creature could to kill those men. Their deaths were quick. Blood stained his claws from the first. He ripped him in half before the second one even noticed. By the time the second man looked up, all he saw was Wood’s maw ripping his face off his skull. Even now, he sat at his feet, blood gushing from the muscles and eyeballs rolling on the floor.
When he landed, his buzzing stopped. No one heard the screams of the mauling, he was sure. To have an entire fire team on his back could get bloody fast, and he had no clue what they possessed. He had to think through this. The transformation never took his mind, only desensitized certain parts. Speech wasn’t an option, and some actions felt more like an animal. But he could still process thought, though a bit less complex. He needed to get to the tower.
Within the city limits, the world was much darker. Shadows of the tall buildings overlapped each other’s endlessly, where street lights used to illuminate the roads. He tried to keep his hands—paws, maybe they could be considered paws—quiet. Colors were difficult to discern in this form. Blues were almost greens and reds were gone. Yet, he managed and it helped in certain situations. The verdict was out on whether it would be harm or hindrance here.
The first building that he came across that looked steady enough, he climbed. His claws sunk deep into the concrete, scaling upward. Underneath, he heard the sounds of boots and chatter from Ancestor soldiers underneath. Distance repressed their words, but their concern was rising. He was going to have to act fast. Once he reached the top, the horizontal leaps began.
Moonlighting like a werewolf, he jumped from one toppled building to another. Occasionally, he would have to use his wings for a brief instant to ensure he made it. Mostly, however, he made it on his own legs strength. The Ancestors set up a radio tower in the middle of town. For something that was built months after many metals stopped being produced, it stood taller than most buildings. Radio been the first thing that humanity had gotten back up, but this was ridiculously well built: polished well, made of high quality metals, and well manned.
Wood wanted to tear it down. But it held a use. Sweet thoughts of destruction caused him to mistime a jump almost sending him crashing into a window. He adjusted himself at the last minute, wheeling around on the metal siding. Scurrying up, the murmurs underneath seem to get louder and words above began to clear up. There were men up here. He would have to kill them.
“What’s going on down there?”
“Don’t know, but haven’t heard from Aaron or Eric.”
“You mean that chatty bunch?”
“Yeah them.”
“Good riddance if they fell somewhere. They were dicks anyway.”
“True that.”
“But, I’m not getting a good feeling about this.”
That man was right, but he didn’t know how right until Wood leaped over the side.
“What the hell is that?”
Wood lunged forward, catching the first man as he raised his gun. His swipe was beyond quick, tearing through the man’s armor, splitting him unevenly from the right arm to the torso. The second man acted much quicker, pulling his assault rifle out and firing wildly. Bullets rattled against Wood’s exoskeleton. Wood responded in kind with his own projectile, a glob of thick green acid. It struck against the man’s helm, burning through it, then dissolving his face and skull in a matter of seconds. For good measure, Wood stomped on his neck.
Alarms went off, and Wood growled.
Cover gone, Wood sprinted towards the tower. He soared into the air, thin but large insect wings flapping loudly upon take off. Red laser sights soon gathered against his body, bullets soon following. Keep moving. He had to keep moving. Flying wasn’t his best skill, but he made it work. Very few bullets hit as he dashed through their defenses. Green blood stained his arm as he landed on the crown of the tower. Four men and one woman stood in his way, and he was beyond just angry.
Wood didn’t hesitate in his landing. He leaped towards his first enemy, grabbing the man. In a massive show of strength, he shattered his entire body by slamming him on the iron mesh below them. The woman attacked next, shooting her machine gun directly at Wood’s face. He responded in kind with a swift right, dodging any bullets that he could, and back with a left swipe. She tumbled down the side, screaming loudly as she fell to her doom.
The three remaining men attacked at once. Collectively, thei
r damage was greater. The ammunition finally pierced through the armor, landing through Wood’s flesh. However, it didn’t stop him. He kept his attack. The acid he used against the other man would wear down the tower, so that was no longer an option. Instead, he focused on using the mass of this body. He charged forward, slamming against the man to the far right, caving the man’s chest in.
The man in the middle, caught by the ferocity of the attack tried to reload quickly. Wood didn’t allow him, and paid him by beheading him.
It left one man alone. This man stood with no bravery left in his system and a side arm shaking in his hand. Wood just stared, moving slowly like a predator. He went to attack. The remaining soldier beat him to it. The built man jammed his own gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. The blood didn’t have any color in Wood’s eyes and the black grain, but he knew it was everywhere. It was always everywhere, he thought sluggishly.
A mission had to be done, however. He couldn’t entertain that thought.
Making it to the tower was the objective, and he had completed it. Only one thing left: the broadcast. Drifter always had a plan, a backup to his backup. Wood held the key to this plan. Even through his pain, he opened his wings up, emitting a sharp-high pitched sound throughout the city. This would be the call of death. I did it, Wood thought as he finally gave into the pain of his wounds. He collapsed on the ground and his world blacked out around him.
_
Huston was on fire. Wood knew this by the glow on Drifter’s sunglasses.
I’m alive. He had been awoken by the sway of the helicopter and the smell of antiseptics. His skinny body was wrapped, bandages clotted with blood. Moving hurt and a mental fog settled in his eyes. It took him a while to readjust. Not trusting himself to move, Wood just stared at the form beside him. For a long time he just stared at boots, his neck still throbbing endlessly. Slowly, he allowed his eyes to wander up to see Drifter standing in the open door of the aircraft.
Drifter’s open, red Hawaiian shirt fluttered around his skinny body like a cape. One hand was firmly on the metal bar above him, the other kept his tan boater hat on his head. He hadn’t noticed that his nephew was awake, just staring blankly at the scenery beneath him. The reflection of fire licked up to the sky in his dark sunglasses. Smoke lined his body, this time not by a pipe, but by the world burning underneath him. Somehow, it was the same, he still set the embers.
Dusk Territories: Always Burning Page 23