by Jeff DeMarco
He nodded in a drug induced stare.
Taylor pulled off the clean bandage and snipped through the sutures. He placed his hand on the wound. “I expect this will hurt.”
A searing pain, unmasked by the anesthetic; the patients nerve endings lit up like a christmas tree. He looked down, his blood soaking into the bedsheet.
“Hmm.” A perturbed look on Taylor’s face. He grabbed the nurse by the hand, dragged her up over the mattress; her lower body hanging limp from the bed. “Let’s try this.” The patients nerves lit up once more; the nurses skin, her musculature melted off her, seeping into the patients exposed flesh. Bone and tendons grew, red, tender muscle and nerve endings extended down the structure, as more flesh pulled from the nurses forearm.
The patient wiggled his toes and stared down at the nurses bloody stump with a hazed indifference.
Taylor smiled at the accomplishment.
She awoke with a scream; her arm, cut short below the shoulder.
“Shhh.” Taylor dressed the cauterized wound.
Her crying eyes pleading. “Why?”
“I’m not a monster,” he whispered. “It’s the least I can do.”
“But, my arm…”
“Your wish is to help.” He looked at her solemnly; his hand caressed her cheek. “I looked inside you, felt it. Be thankful that I didn’t take from your pretty face.”
She wept, as he walked from the room.
An elbow joint protruded through Luca’s open flesh; the nanites were building, as fast as their supply of raw materials would allow. “Never figured out their language.” Luca’s voice haggard, weary from pain. “Bring ‘em in. I’ll see what I can figure out.”
Gloria motioned towards the door.
Sergeant First Class Keenan Walked in behind the alpha, his weapon slung at his chest.
Luca nodded to it, a silent conversation carried out in facial expressions.
“What?” Gloria stared intently at Luca.
Luca shrugged. “He remembers english, but can’t speak it… doesn’t remember who he is, where he came from… Pissed off at you for making him.”
“Ay, now mate.” Gloria’s face scrunched. “Don’t lump me in with the good Doctor.”
Luca put his hand up. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
She readied a tourniquet and butterfly needle, tubing and a bag. “What else?”
Luca ripped off his bedsheet, handed it to him. “Says he feels naked.”
The Alpha wrapped the sheet around his waist.
“Probably ‘cause he is.” She took the alpha by the shoulder, motioning him to the chair.
“What about the others?” Luca said aloud.
The Alpha cringed at the needle puncturing his arm; an odd shriek, vaguely reminiscent of ‘Ow!’
“Seems there were more than just a dozen.” Luca looked down at his legs, the overall structure of bone and tendons in place, wondering how long this damn process would take. “Had to fight off the others, the one’s that haven’t been…” Luca looked at the alpha with an odd stare. “Born?”
He looked at Gloria, fixated on the blood, rapidly flowing into the bag. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re the psychic.” She swapped out a fresh bag to collect blood. “I just work here.”
CHAPTER 49
Nichols entered his office, pitch black from boarded up windows. He grabbed a can of chew off his shelf and closed the door. He jumped, A black figure waiting in the corner, a rifle slung across body armor. He reached for his sidearm on his desk, as the figure edged towards him. He aimed, then squeezed the trigger – A metallic ‘click,’ with no ‘pop.’
“I’d sleep with my firearm, if I was you.” Alpha 1 grabbed the pistol from him, dropped the magazine and pulled the slide back, ejecting the chambered round. “Dangerous times we live in.” He sat down, across the desk from Nichols.
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’m an ally, if you’d like.” He pulled the slide from the lower receiver. “Provided you listen and understand what it is I have to say.”
Nichols gritted his teeth, a stare of death at Alpha 1.
“Two people that need to die.” He disassembled the firing mechanism, pulling the bent firing pin from the assembly “One of them is our beloved President.” He inserted a fresh firing pin into the General’s weapon. “The other is hiding out in a bunker in White Sands, New Mexico… Colonel Clark Petersen.”
Nichols brow furrowed.
“That’s right.” He fixed the slide back to the lower receiver. “Your prisoners brother.” He slid the magazine back into the grip and pulled the slide back, chambering a round. “Problem is, if you kill one, the other will dig in like a tick… We’ll lose our opportunity.” He slid the firearm back across the table.
A moment of clarity. “And you’d like to use General Petersen as bait?” He grabbed the weapon, held it up.
Alpha 1 leaned back in his chair. “This… situation we’re in, rests squarely on their shoulders. The virus, the children… all their doing.”
Nichols pulled the slide back only partway, inspecting the chambered round. “You know I could kill you, right here, right now.”
“You could.” Alpha 1 smiled. “And it wouldn’t be entirely unwelcomed.”
Nichols pursed his lips. “Hmm.” Then dropped the magazine and ejected the chambered round. “What’s the catch?”
“I understand you to be cut and dry, unmoved religously… Not unlike myself.”
Nichols nodded in agreement.
“Despite that, I’m technically a part of The Order.” He shifted his hands behind his head. “Exceptions must be made… The children for instance, most of them are blameless in all of this. The Order… Aside from the two I mentioned, the rest had no part in Crimson sky. Even General Peterse-“
“No,” Nichols interrupted, then slid the magazine back into the pistol. “To think he was party to a secret organization, infiltrating and shaping the highest levels of government… It’s illegal, unforgiveable.”
Alpha 1 sighed, an apathetic look on his face.
“For years…” He stuffed the pistol back in its holster. “I’ve worked outside preferential treatment; The freemasons, religious organizations, the ‘boys club’... I’ve risen to my station through an iron will and intelligence alone; no help outside of those who’ve seen me in action. I’ve worked to overcome the stigma of atheism. It’s… unjust, that he should be judged on his connections, rather than performance.”
“Whatever…” Alpha 1 shook his head. “Do what you want with him. I don’t care enough to argue, but the witch hunt, tracking down Order members, systematic torture and execution… It needs to stop. If that’s not wrong, I don’t know what is.”
Nichols leaned his forehead to his hand, stroking his temples. “Things got out of hand when the virus hit; I admit that much.”
“It’s easy.” Alpha 1 rested his forearms on the desk, leaned in towards Nichols. “Doing the right thing when everything’s great. It’s times like these, you can lose yourself real quick.”
Nichols nodded subtly, a hint of shame in his eyes. “What then?”
Alpha 1 leaned in further. “Here’s my plan…”
CHAPTER 50
“Tennis balls.” Bariac pulled a single ball from a fresh tube. “Coat them with the virus, load them into a cluster bomb. At terminal velocity, the viral serum vaporizes and scatters in atmosphere.”
“Circular error of probability on a regular BLU 103A cluster bomb is 26 meters, Doc.” Marine aviator, Captain Perry kicked his boots up onto the laboratory desk. “Not to mention the change in weight from bomblets to freaking tennis balls… might miss the target entirely.”
Bariac rubbed his chin. “What about your smoke rounds?”
“Depends,” Colby said. “How hot is too hot?”
Bariac gave him a dumb look.
“White phosphorus burns around 3,000 plus degrees… figure that’d probably kill the
virus off, right?”
Bariac rubbed at the stress and exhaustion in his eyes.
“I got an idea,” Perry said. “Probably won’t like it… Hell, I don’t like it. Puts me real low to the ground.”
One foot, then the other; Luca reveled in the sensation of his virgin flesh on cold tile. His arms balanced at the edge of the bed, as he stood for the first time since battle. His legs were strong already; the silicon, carbon and metallic fibers woven throughout. It didn’t seem that way, as he swayed and wobbled, the new sensations foreign.
The nanites had done nothing to dull the pain, in fact they had intensified to what end he felt pain, and to what end he felt everything in his surroundings. His senses refined digitally. He no longer smelled the antiseptic hospital air; rather understood its composition, its nature.
All that he touched, heard, tasted, smelled, saw; a deep hatred for the molecules of air constantly swarming his body, the neoprene inside his shoes, the natural and polymer material in his clothing.
His one saving grace, only one of his eyes had been rebuilt, the other untouched thus far, so he kept it covered at all times. He felt them inside, constantly moving, buzzing like a hive of bees, constantly building internal structures; retrofitting his cells to be stronger, newer, more efficient. To what end, he didn’t know.
It started small; a protrusion from his skin as he slept. He had tossed at the pain, but not woken. By morning, a small half inch by half inch section of skin was built; a much darker and greyer, tougher than his regular skin had been. He scratched at it with his fingernail – barely noticeable. He dug at it with a sharp Ka-bar knife; after multiple stabs and hard slices, it eventually succumb. He wondered to what end the nanites would alter him.
CHAPTER 51
Jaeger noticed Major Teegs strolling around the base, his eyes wandered, peering into different dark corners; his path went down one direction of pavement, then quickly backtracked down another. “What’re you looking for?”
“Nothing, Sir.” Teeg’s seemed almost purposefully aloof in his response. “Just popping around Fort Bragg… Never been here before.”
Jaeger eyed him conspicuously. “Bullshit.”
“You know that girl you were with?” Teegs swallowed the lump in his throat. “The one at the airfield.”
Jaeger narrowed on him. “You were watching us?” he whispered.
“I’ve got one too.” His mouth, his eyes flat; as serious as a heart attack. “… and he’s lost.”
Jaeger raised an eyebrow. “Come with me.”
“What’s said in here…” The lock slammed shut. “… Stays in here.” Jeager turned to Commander Blanco. “Everyone agreed?”
Teegs nodded. “Ironic that the fate of war would be decided in a bathroom.”
Blanco eyed him, cynically.
“Let’s see…” Jaeger crossed his arms. “I’ve got my whole staff in the clink. Teegs, who’d you bring with you?”
“Just a flight crew, then me and Michael.”
“And Blanco, you’ve got your SEAL team, and Engel in-“
“He’ll be fine,” Blanco interrupted. “What is it that you’re getting at?”
“I’d like to get the hell off this base, for one,” Jaeger said. “And get back to Fort Sill, with all my troops alive.”
Blanco leaned onto a porcelain sink. “And what about General Petersen?”
“If we could extract him safely.” Jaeger shook his head. “I’d consider it. We’re not exactly on the best of terms right now.”
Blanco cocked his head.
“The Order released the virus for God’s sake!” Jaeger threw his hands into the air. “Can you honestly tell me that deserves a reprieve?”
“What you’re suggesting amounts to treason.” A sour look grew over Blanco’s face. “And what about Nichols? One of those girls in confinement looked to have been beaten, possibly abused. You want to assassinate him too?”
“I don’t know,” Jaeger shook his head. “Maybe we –“
“Gent’s,” Teegs interrupted. “If we’re all to be judged on our conduct since the attack, you might as well add me to the list.” He looked over at Jaeger. “And what about you, Sir?” Then Blanco. “And you? This is a time to let go, rebuild…”
Jaeger closed his eyes. “And sing kumbaya, till the hunters and children decide to wipe us from existence.”
“You have the ball here, Colonel.” Blanco stared dead at him. “What’s your call?”
“Talk to Nichols.” Jaeger let out a long sigh. “He trusts you more than he does me. We’ll reconvene after that.”
“President of the United States!” Colonel Jaeger announced as they walked into the large briefing room, prompting everyone to stand at attention.
President Kreuson smiled, strutting slowly to her chair. “As you were.”
A young Battle Captain stood at the front of the room. “Madame President, General Nichols, Command Sergeant Major Hayes…” He laid out the current situation, friendly and enemy locations, current orders to subordinate units, rescue efforts, enemy contact and a censored version of events from the night prior.
The S1 Personnel officer was next to brief – Current troop strength, civilian personnel, a rundown of reinforcements through civilian/ military training protocol.
The S2 Intelligence officer, Lieutenant Colonel Sobel, stood and elaborated on the enemy situation, the hunters, newly discovered intelligence regarding The Order.
Nichols interrupted. “I understand there’s an Order controlled genetics facility, out in White sands… Intel from one of our detainees. Look into that for me.”
Sobel looked over to the S3 Operations officer, Lieutenant Colonel Hager. “UAV’s?”
“We’ll do a flyover,” Hager said. “Confirm location, then send in ground forces, air support… We can talk about it offline.”
Sobel nodded.
Nichols looked over at President Kreuson, watched her fidget in her seat, her face flush. He leaned over and whispered, “You alright, Madame President?”
“Fine,” she said, half an octave off key.
A kind smile spread across his face, as he thought, ‘we’ve got you… traitorous bitch.’
11pm, shift change. “Anything?” Alpha 1 asked.
“Nope.” Alpha 3 stood from his seat in front of General Petersen’s cell and strolled off.
Alpha 1 waited till he was out of view. He listened for noise, footsteps, doors. There was nothing. He unlocked the door and set a digital voice recorder on the table. “Keep it short.”
Petersen paused a moment, then clicked record. “This message is for Colonel Clark Petersen. It’s your brother, Luke. I’ve been taken prisoner at Fort Bragg. I’m being held captive in the Forces Command headquarters building. I’ve met an Order operative, loyal to the cause.” - A lie. “They know about us, Clark. I’ve never asked a thing, but I beg you, come save me.
Alpha 1 grabbed the recorder off the table, poked his head out the door.
Alpha 3, ran towards him. “What happened?”
“Nothing… said he was hungry.” He cracked his knuckles. “I fed him… What’d you come back for?”
Alpha 3 reached down. “Left my magazine.”
“Don’t recall you being a fan of Bridal Guide.” Alpha 1 crossed his arms. “What sort of game you playing?”
“Always a bridesmaid,” Alpha 3 quipped. “Never a bride.” He backed away slowly, staring Alpha 1 up and down.
‘That was weird.’ He waited once more, then ran to the exit, a young Second Lieutenant waited at the door. He handed the package off, then sprinted back to his post.
“I feel you pulling away from me,” Ari kicked along the forest floor as they walked. “Why?”
Erica shrugged. “Protect you, I guess.” She sniffed the air, a scent in the distance. “And myself.” She pointed to a clearing up ahead. “There.”
Ari dropped down to her knees, resting her rifle on a rotted-out stump. “From what?” she whispered back,
placing her finger in the trigger well.
“Death.” Erica crouched down, looking over Ari’s sights, pointing to a doe in the distance. “You’ve felt it, like I have.” A second deer jumped from the wood line, small and speckled, obscuring her view of the mother. “I won’t make it through this.”
Ari glared down the scope - The doe walked out in front, clearing Ari’s shot. “Well look at that,” she whispered to herself.
“If you’re with me, neither will you.”
A metallic ‘click,’ Ari flipped the safety on. The deer looked up and scrambled away with her baby. “Used to believe I could see things, before they came to pass.” She dropped the magazine, pulled the bolt back sending the chambered round flying… “Still do sometimes… like with Dustin.” Picked it up off the ground and popped it back into the magazine. “It’s fear.” She set her rifle down, on the stump. “You can face the fear in your mind, head it off, correct it before it happens.”
“I’ll never ask anyone to die for me.”
“You wouldn’t have to ask,” Ari whispered. “A funny thing, what you’ll do out of love.”
CHAPTER 52
A man’s sternum splayed open, split along the center ribcage, the sides broken, exposing the heart and lungs. “What’cha doin’, buddy.” Luca walked inside the tent, not terribly shocked at the carnage, but still wobbly on his new legs.
“Experiment.” Taylor didn’t look up; his eyes wide and focused on the body, opened up on the ground. He put his hands around the heart, shocking it in rhythm.
“What kind?” Luca’s iron stomach slightly nauseated at the sight.
Taylor’s hand shifted from the heart to the head, firing neurons inside the brain.
“Buddy?” Luca sat in one of the folding chairs; his eyes lowered to meet Taylors. “… Buddy?” Molly rose from behind a field cabinet; her ears pinned back as she looked at Taylor, then put her head in Luca’s lap. “Good girl,” he whispered.