by Jeff DeMarco
Engel raised his hands into a shrug.
Dustin’s teeth clenched in frustration.
“Kristen!” Jacob’s hands shot up for her to see.
Sacha grabbed him by the back, ripped him down. Her two fingers touched her eyes, then pointed out into the tree line; a shimmer of light, bent around a long stretch of ground.
A heavy head of guilt and powerlessness weighed on Jacob.
Kristen ran towards them; her path through the clearing passing alongside the tree line.
Jacob’s muscles tensed, as tree limbs quaked; the glimmer of light bent, changing with its surroundings. He sprang forward, out of Sacha’s grasp. “Run!” He moved towards the clearing, away from the tree line. “This way!”
The familiar voice; Kristen’s eyes lit up like burning coals. She sprinted after him, her body weightless with rage. Michael followed close behind. She leapt, her hands digging in to Jacob’s shoulder, dragging him down. She ripped his helmet off, her hand gripping around his throat.
“Kristen,” he garbled, tearing at her wrists. In a timeless instant, her mind played back; Jacob’s perspective as though he were Kristen, writhing helpless on the table. He felt putrid and shameful; her experience weighed all the more on him. He squeezed his eyes together; a fruitless attempt to will away the sickening feeling inside. He glanced over, half in, half out of the void; the tall grass parted at the massive apparition moving towards them. “Stop.” He wrenched her arm, throwing her from him.
“Crack!” A 7.62 round from Sacha’s AK-47 pounded into the creature, damaging its active camouflage, but nothing more. A single patch of bright red skin shone, now moving steadily towards them, unfettered by the impact.
Kristen spun and moved; its presence known only by the bending of light, it’s hulking mass rose; shot down at them. A sheen of dirt over its snout as it recoiled; not toothed, rather a hard, efficient cutting edge to its jaws. It’s eyes locked on to her; her anger turned to fear as she bolted once more for the base.
CHAPTER 69
Their hands shoved into their pockets, Colonel Jaeger and Major Tiegs dollied into the prison, seemingly oblivious.
“Stop there, Gentlemen.” A tall Sergeant moved towards them, rendering a salute. “State your business here.”
“Nothing pressing.” Teegs shuffled forward, a full foot shorter than the gaurd. “Just figured We’d…” His fist drove into the Sergeant’s gut, doubling him over. Then ‘crack,’ Tiegs kneed him in the face. Jaeger took the handcuffs off the Sergeant’s belt and secured him to a bar; then the keys off his beltloop. They ran down the hall, round a corner. Dustin and Engel’s arms protruded through the bars. Scores of Soldiers behind them, cheering.
“Sir!” A look of elated shock in Dustin’s eyes. “You sure about this.”
“If I’m not willing to risk my life for what I believe right…” He fumbled through the keys, looking for the right one. “My career doesn’t mean a whole lot, does it?” He gave Dustin a subtle wink, as the tumblers crunched into place and the door swung open.
The Soldiers rushed out of the cell and down the hall. Into a control room, they subdued the guards with overwhelming force, recovering their weapons and equipment.
A solemn look of understanding towards Jaeger. “Go to the airfield,” Dustin whispered. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Over the hill, ‘Clack, clack, clack,’ the whispering report of large caliber gunshots echoed in the distance, followed by, ‘thud, thud, thud,’ as rounds pounded into dirt. Kristen waved her arms at the gun crew, pointing up. Her mind reached out; powerless at the jammers positioned around the fort.
The creature bound towards them, still camouflaged; its heavy footsteps no longer stealth in chasing its quarry. It’s path wavered, sensing footsteps on the ground both ahead and behind, absent any signal outside of normal human capacity.
Kristen sprinted towards the entry control point, the gunner in mid-reload. She hopped up onto the roof of the Humvee, then slammed her head into the gunner. He hung limp in his ring mount. She ripped him from the hatch, manning the .50 caliber machine gun. Scanning left to right, searching for a glimmer, light bending, a rustling of grass, anything. Only Jacob and a girl, similarly dressed, as well as Michael; Erica and Ari far off in the distance. Her aim stayed pinned to Jacob. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t pull the trigger?”
His pace slowed from sprint to crawl, afraid to go back, or forwards.
“Put it down,” Michael yelled
Jacob put his arm out, stopping Michael’s advance. “I have none,” he yelled.
“Ok.” She slapped the cover down on a fresh belt of ammo and racked the charging handle back.
“Wait.” Michael slapped Jacob’s hand down. “It wasn’t him that left you… it was me.”
She glared down at him, part fury, part confusion.
“He came to me for help.” He looked over at Jacob. “I refused.”
Her tears flowed, enraged, betrayed. “Why?”
“I made the wrong decision, alright…” He forced his eyes up from the ground, to look at her squarely. “Thought if I could remove Jacob from the world, everything would be ok… but it’s not. I sacrificed you for my own well-being, not realizing what I had.”
“This is touching, guys… really.” Pavel’s tracker pinged on Sacha’s display. “We need to move.”
Kristen disengaged the ring mount, swung it towards Sacha. “Where?”
“I hit it with 7.62,” Sacha said. “Not even a scratch. Need something a little bigger.” She started off, into the fort.
She swung the weapon back at Jacob and Michael, now following. “Stop!”
“Shoot them.” Sacha started off. “Or don’t… not my problem. I plan on living through this.”
“But…” Her stare followed Sacha, casually ignoring Kristen as she walked away. Kristen gritted her teeth in a growl, then slipped inside the Humvee’s drivers seat and opened the hatch. “Get in.”
“What about Erica?” Michael asked. “And Ari?”
“Leave them,” Kristen said. “We’re going a different direction.”
Michael hopped into the back, Jacob into the passenger seat. He spun, his finger out. “Not a-“
“Relax,” Michael whispered. “For once, I think we’re actually on the same side.”
“Where were you?” Kristen asked. They drove through peaks and valleys on the electromagnetic spectrum, as several buildings and areas were well covered by wide spectrum jamming.
Jacob held out his hand. “Long story.”
She looked down, the revulsion of touching his sickening skin, reeking with the scent of stale betrayal and malice. A shudder went up her spine, as she grabbed his hand; her mind adrift in his psyche. “Me first.” Her eyes narrowed as she gripped his hand.
He was thrust back into the sickening pit of Kristen’s mind; a once vibrant landscape of vivid thought and form, reduced to a cesspool of filth, a wasteland of self-deprecating hatred. A vision passed before him, Kristen’s vision. An odd little squirrel staring up at her, such expression in its eyes. His mouth uttered the word, “Yes.” ‘But to what question?’ he wondered. A sudden euphoria, like adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream. He searched frantically through the vision; her truth revealed only as he searched his own mind. A blackened earth, bodies strewn across pavement, scavengers feasting on their dead flesh. He ripped himself from the nightmare; she stared over with a vicious smile. A smile he would have once mistook as lively.
“Your turn,” she whispered.
A shudder went up his spine. ‘How far she’s fallen,’ he thought, as the vision of his journey began. His dream, now long past, played before her like a movie, only a blip on his memory; ‘inconsequential,’ he thought. “Erica,” she whispered. A malevolent impulse ran through her mind.
His head cocked. “What?” He tore his hand away.
“It’s nothing.” She reached out, grabbed his hand once more. “Continue.”
He ex
amined her a moment, the Kristen he had known, now gone; a dead shell, a darkness growing inside. He succumbed to her, his mind open.
“He’s gone.” Ari knelt down, examining the malformed metal bar. “Thermite.” She looked up at Erica. “Any idea?”
Erica shook her head. “Must be in a dead zone.”
“Airfield.” Ari rose.
“Or off base.” Erica started off, behind Ari. “Looking for us.” The sound of helicopters blades whipping the wind.
They ran north, towards the airfield, Ari in the lead. Silent, Erica broke off, east towards the Forces Command building; towards the others.
Ari stopped and hunched over, breathless, her hands pressed firmly to her thighs.
Blanco loaded magazines into pouches on his body armor. “Where’s Erica?”
Ari whipped around, her eyes wide in panic.
CHAPTER 70
Kristen reveled in her vision of fire; smoking headless corpses laying across the pavement. Her eyes widened at the prospect. Soon they would see what they’d made her into, and she would end them. All of them.
The hallway lit with battery operated fixtures; the emergency lighting in the Forces Command building had since dimmed, then died. They ran, silent down the still corridor. Michael put his hand against the cinderblocks; the hum of a generator on the other side. “Here.”
Sacha bent down and slapped a wad of plastic explosive onto the wall, molded around a copper cone. “Get back!” she set the timer for five seconds. A deafening sound, smoke and dust filled the corridor, a molten stream of copper penetrated the wall, into the generator. They circled back through the heavy metal door towards the T intersection.
Kristen stopped, the door to her prison cell left open. She stepped inside; the memories of abuse and torture, of shame and weakness, hit her at once. She shuddered at the memories, a rage rising up inside her hollow body, filling the voids of her spirit. She slammed the door shut and continued on.
“Stop there!” Sacha yelled, her rifle aimed at the center of General Nichol’s chest. Nichol’s pistol pressed firm against President Kreuson’s head. “She’s mine.” She swung her rifle down to the president, then ‘crack!’ Jacob’s hand slammed the barrel to the side. The bullet ricocheted from the cinderblock into Nichol’s calf. He dropped to the floor.
Kristen bound over the interrogation table; grabbed Nichols in a choke hold and dragged him from the room. Michael followed in chase.
“What are you doing?” Sacha screamed. “Move!”
“If you’re to judge anyone as evil,” Jacob knelt in front of the president, his hands clasped behind his back; emboldened by Michael’s confession. “Judge me.” He head hung, as though ready for the axe.
Sacha flipped her visor up, now wide eyed. “Get out of my way.”
“Don’t you see, Sacha?” His head tilted towards the sky, as tears filled his eyes. “The monster you so desperately long for is-“
‘Crack,’ Her rifle came down hard, the buttstock connecting with his head.
A second impact with the metal table on his way down. He lay there, still; a pool of blood forming around his head, shallow breaths, his vision black, mind fuzzy.
She rested her rifle on the back of her head, and trudged out into the hallway; her arms slung over both sides of the rifle.
A grenade lobbed into the room; both Vivian and Petersen’s eyes wide, as it landed on top of the desk.
Vivian kicked, knocking the table to its side; the grenade landing on her side of the metal table-top.
Petersen ripped himself to one side, falling hard onto his arm; a sharp ‘snap,’ as he landed.
Vivian stared down at the grenade, her eyes wide, then closed; with God in fevered prayer. “Your protection, father,” she whispered. “Forgive me of my sins.” ‘Boom!’ the grenade exploded, sending shards of metal into her; the pressure wave drove her to her back.
A light suspended above, a dark figure moved overhead in her blurred vision. “The angel of death,” Vivian whispered, as Julie’s hands touched her abdomen.
Julie laid a hand on Vivian’s midsection. “War, actually.” Shards of metal pulled from her body, assimilating into Julie’s pores, while an acute stinging heat cauterized Vivian’s wounds. She looked up at Demetri. “What now?”
Demetri keyed his neckband. “Target’s acquired, plus one. Extract via rally point 2, Copy?” He picked up both Petersen and Jacob. “Let’s roll.”
CHAPTER 71
‘Bam, bam, bam!’ Michael’s hand slapped against the metal door. “Kristen, please open the door!” He put his hands at the door, a sharp tug – it held fast. ‘Bam, bam, bam!’ “Damnit Kristen, open the door! I don’t want to bring the building down.”
Inside, she had bent metal bars around his feet and hands; an end of each of the bars was rainbowed with a blue tinge – a telltale sign that the metal had once glowed red and subsequently pressed against Kristen’s bare flesh. She picked up a knife on Joe’s table of tools, curled down like a scythe; one that he had never used on her. No, cutting didn’t bother her, so much as other forms of torture did. She sat down by Nichol’s head, her lips inches from his ear. “You know what you’ve done to me…”
“Is that a question,” he said. His body vulnerable across the table, his face, his eyes tried to maintain a façade of strength at his position. “I don’t recall-“
“Shhh.” The blade grew red in her grasp. She passed it broadways over his cheek; the skin sizzled and smoked. “A statement… You claim to be just. A humanist, atheist… whatever you call yourself.”
“And you?” His eye twitched compulsively, a wince from pain. “How holy art thou?”
She laughed, as she had never laughed. “I claim no such thing, not now, not ever.” She pressed the glowing blade edge into his face.
His neck tightened in agony. “Just do it and get it over with!”
“No,” she whispered. “That wouldn’t be any fun.” She stared at Nichols down the fiery blade; a blaze hissed along the door, shooting sparks out into the room. She pressed the edge into his guts; the edge quenched, boiling his blood, cooking his insides.
His back arched, convulsed at shock and pain.
She hopped on top of him, the look of fear and loathing in his eyes. “Have any last words?”
His neck tightened, holding firm on his composure. “No.”
She shook her head. “An apology would’ve been nice.” Now dull, she dragged the blade edge across his throat; its metal tearing and biting into the flesh. Spurts of blood shot up from the wound.
His mouth opened, as though trying to speak.
She leaned down to hear.
He collected what remained of the filth and tobacco in his mouth; spat it out, hitting her in the cheek.
She wiped it off, then looked down in apathy. The edge hit hard against his skull, splitting it in two; then again, and again, and again.
Michael grabbed her from the back, both hands securing each of her wrists. “Put it down,” he whispered.
She spun, sliced at his tricep with the tip.
He held the muscle, now torn and bleeding profusely. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“You go.” She climbed off Nichols dead body, her shirt speckled with blood. “I’m not done here.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Michael said. “Not again.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “Go… far away, like you always wanted.”
He leaned into her, his head resting on her shoulder. “But, I need…” He stopped, knowing that his words were a lie.
She put her hand on his cheek, still gripping the hatchet, her eyes locked onto his. “In time, maybe that will be true…” She kissed him, “… And we’ll learn to forgive one another.” She ran off, out of the building.
CHAPTER 72
Outside the prison, an electronic warfare vehicle sat idle, but active; a sensor array mounted on a Stryker wheeled combat vehicle. Dustin rushed inside the compartment. “Hands up!” hi
s weapon aimed at the Soldier’s head. “Shut it down.”
“Sir, I-“
Dustin blasted the console; sparks shot out at the Soldier, his hands now covering his face.
The Soldier reached down, calmly; turned a dial to the off position. “All set, Sir.”
Dustin shook his head, frustrated at the exchange. He jumped from the back of the vehicle, his mind calling Erica’s name.
‘Dad?’ she called back.
A sudden warmth and fear. ‘Airfield, now!’ He ran north, as fast as his leg would carry him.
Her path diverted with her mind; what would have led her away, now led her home.
“Archangel 6, Colonel Petersen, this is Archangel 1, both targets are loaded onto the chopper, as well as Archangel 2 and I. Requesting extraction coordinates.”
“Roger, Archangel 1. Need you and Julie to get off the bird, proceed to incoming grid. I have another mission for you.”
“Wait, what?” Demetri adjusted his headset. “Say again Colonel.”
“Nuclear warheads, son.” Petersen’s voice trembled. “For our safety, for the worlds safety.”
He could sense the lie in Petersen’s voice. “Ok.” He crouched to the ground. “I’ll get your warheads.”
“Good.” A relief washed over Petersen. “Get what you can, extract via ground. Copy?”
Demetri shook his head. “Roger, Sir.” He briefed the crew chief and made his way east for the ammo supply point.
As the hatch closed, Kristen slipped in behind them and leapt into the opening.
The crew chief looked at her in a cockeyed glare. “Who the hell are you?”
She walked over, silently smiling; took his head and twisted sharp.
General Petersen stared up, a glazed look from painkillers circulating in his body. “No.”
She walked past him, silently into the cockpit. “Change of plans...” Deep inside the pilot’s mind, she appeared as the crew chief. “We’re going to Florida. Lackland Airforce base.”