Bastion: O-Men: Liege’s Legion

by Elaine Levine

  “Voices?” Owen asked.

  “Well, the one voice. His voice.”

  “Whose voice?” Kit asked.

  “Bastion.”

  Again, Kit and Owen exchanged looks. “This is worse than I thought,” Owen said.

  “What is it?” Selena asked.

  “I don’t know for sure,” Owen answered. “I do know you aren’t going crazy. And I do know we are not fucking with your head. My dad and Jax are on their way here for the wedding. We’re going to have a phone conference with the Ratcliffs. Let’s hear what they have to say about all of this.” He studied her a long moment. “We’ll help you, Selena. Whatever it is.”

  Selena hated that she was reduced to near-constant tears. She blinked them away and swiped at her face with her upper arm. “I hope you do it fast. I can’t take much more.”

  Two new men arrived at the house, probably coming for the second wedding that was about to happen, Bastion supposed. These men were connected to Owen and his fiancée. Jax was Owen’s soon-to-be brother-in-law. And Nick was Owen’s mutant father.

  This was interesting. Another modified human in the family. Although, to be honest, Owen’s fiancée’s mutant energy signature was continuing to fade—it wasn’t as strong as it had been just a month ago.

  Bastion wondered who had changed them, when and why. The Ratcliffs hadn’t visited the house in the time since Bastion had been inside. Had they sensed him from his patrols around the grounds? Was Bastion why they were staying away?

  And why were fighters in the Omni resistance modifying humans? Beyond that, there was a strange lingering energy between Owen and these two men. Residual threads of resentment, abandonment, and betrayal. It surprised Bastion that they had overcome their past to have a relationship now. Perhaps, in time, Bastion would learn what had happened.

  Whatever it was, they’d put it behind them for the wedding.

  13

  Bastion’s senses tingled. Trouble was prowling near the edge of the compound, just outside the area covered by the protection he had set. Whether it was Flynn or the ghouls, Bastion couldn’t tell.

  It had been dark for hours. Most of those living in the house had already retired. Bastion dressed in his tunics, wool and leather, then stepped into his suede pants. He slipped his sai into his belt, two in the back, one in the front.

  He hurried from the attic, through the house, and out one of the French doors in the living room without running into anyone. In the open lawn area, he kept himself hidden from the team’s security devices as he spread his arms and shut his eyes, opening his mind to the energies he felt, trying to get a read on how many ghouls there were. He could fight some, even several, but if this were a multipronged attack, the people he was protecting would be better served if he waited for backup before engaging. Were he to take a lethal blow, the protection he had in place would be jeopardized.

  He read the energies of only three of the monsters, just beyond the woods at the side of the house, on BLM land. Bastion opened his mind to Liege, making him aware of the situation. If Bastion faltered, Liege would take up the protection.

  He went across the lawn, through the woods, and walked out the other side. The tall, desiccated winter grass crunched beneath his boots. Across the narrow dirt road, at the edge of his protection, stood three ghouls.

  Flynn definitely had it in for the Red Team. Not surprising, really, considering their fight against the Omnis.

  One of the ghouls was standing up straight, sniffing the air. The protection Bastion had in place shielded him from being seen or heard, but it didn’t entirely mute his energy signature. The beasts could feel him near. Bastion jogged a little farther down the dirt road, staying inside his dome of protection. The ghouls ran on all fours, keeping pace with him. They would know the instant he stepped away from his area of protection.

  Liege, are there other ghouls around the property, or are these the only ones?

  Liege took a moment to answer. Only those. Acier is on his way up.

  Don’t need him. I’ll burn these three when I’m done.

  Bastion projected an image of himself punching through his protective energy and running down the dirt road away from where the real him stood. The simple feint worked. The ghouls chased that mirage and ignored Bastion’s presence. He stepped across the dirt road onto the open pasture. The property wasn’t owned by the Red Team and so wasn’t under Bastion’s protection. Frozen grass and patches of crispy snow crunched beneath his feet, catching the attention of the monsters.

  They bumped into each other as they turned their attention to him, trying to determine whether he was another mirage or their actual target. Their minds weren’t capable of complex strategic thought—they were engineered to kill, not think, a shortcoming that kept them from charging toward him again.

  Bastion moved his sai from his back to his sides, ready for quick access. He withdrew the front sai, then charged toward the ghouls. As the distance between them closed, he threw it toward the first monster, which was running on all fours, pinning its front paw to the ground.

  Bastion palmed his other two sai as he reached the first ghoul. He swept the monster’s slashing claws to one side with his left sai as he shoved the long spike of his right sai up through its throat and into its brain.

  The other two were immediately on him.

  He used the flat head of one sai for a chest punch against the nearest ghoul, knocking the wind from the beast. There was no time to finish that one off before having to face the last monster.

  Bastion battered it with blows from both sai, breaking an arm, some ribs, a collarbone before shoving the long spike through the ghoul’s eye and into its brain. By then, the second monster was on its feet again, crazed by the sight and smell of blood. When it slashed at him, Bastion snagged its arm in the sai and cut downward, slicing its forearm open. That barely stunned the beast, as hopped up on adrenaline as it was.

  Bastion had long ago learned to read the rhythm of a fight. Each ghoul, each fight, had its own flow. This beast had switched to pure fury. Lashing out maniacally—but without strategy—it still managed to land some wicked cuts on Bastion’s chest and legs.

  Bastion held his sai against his forearms, then used the beast’s own forward motion to hit its clawed hands with punches that broke its wrists. After that, it was easy to flip his sai forward and slash the arteries in its thighs, then rip out its throat.

  When the fight was done, Bastion stood over the three corpses, panting hard. He finally became aware of the many cuts he’d sustained in the fight. He was covered in blood, his and theirs. Are there more, Liege?

  No. You’re clear.

  Bastion used his telekinetic skills to draw twigs and branches and dried leaves out of the woods on the Red Team property and into a pile on the pasture. Lighting the pile on fire was a simple matter of focusing a spiral of energy on certain spots. In no time, fire danced over the dried slash pile. He found cut logs by the edge of the woods and added them to the bonfire.

  When the flames were strong, Bastion dragged the bodies over to the fire and loaded them on top. He controlled the pyre’s fury, containing the sparks and ash in a narrow column high into the air until they’d flamed out. He hid the fire from any regulars that might be near enough to see or smell it. The ghouls stank like putrid flesh as they burned.

  As Bastion looked around, he saw blood spread across the field. With a wave of his hand, he drew it up out of the snow and poured it over the fire, making the funeral pyre hiss. He did the same to the blood covering himself, sending it into the flames. He used his telekinetic skills to clean his weapons, then tucked them back into his belt. He leaned over to spit out the foul taste of ghoul blood and wiped the back of his wrist against his mouth.

  Though the ghoul blood was gone from his skin and clothes, his own blood continued to seep through his clothing. Were he a regular, he’d need a trip to the emergency room to stitch up his many wounds. Being a mutant, Bastion knew his cuts would be cl
osed by the time he took a shower, so he barely spared them a thought.

  He stood there a long time, watching the corpses turn to ash. Liege had said he was in the clear, but those ghouls should never have been there to begin with. Were they there because of him? Or had they been sent for the other mutant—Owen’s dad—who’d come in for the wedding? Or for the leader’s mate, even though her mutant energy was faint now?

  Liege, these people are in danger from Flynn. He’s testing the waters, seeing what resources we’ve devoted to protecting these fighters. I can’t hold him at bay for long. We need a plan.

  Agreed, Liege said. The Omnis didn’t seem too concerned with the Red Team until now. Either they’ve sent Flynn to close that window, or he’s acting on his own initiative.

  There was a short pause. Bastion stared into the fire. It wouldn’t be a surprising strategy for Flynn to make a decoy situation that forced Bastion and his team to focus their attention away from whatever Flynn was really up to.

  How is the woman handling all of this? Liege asked.

  Bastion choked on a breath. He’d been keeping Selena away from the connection he shared with the guys, but Liege had sensed her anyway.

  Which one? There are several here.

  Neither of us is an idiot, Bastion. You would have finished this assignment a long time ago if not for her.

  She suffers because she tries to block me.

  No means no, my friend. Even for us.

  It isn’t no for her and me, it’s no for her fear of what I will do to her team.

  Are they candidates? Liege asked.

  I believe so. They already have changed beings among them, so the concept isn’t a foreign one to them. One is the leader’s wife, though the energy signature of her mutations has been weakening. I believe her changes weren’t permanent. The leader’s father, however, has been changed, and permanently so. Then there was a married couple who were in the house before I went inside. They were both changed. I suspect they’re the scientists we’re after. We’ve heard that they changed themselves.

  What’s your evaluation of these people? Liege asked. You’ve watched them for months. Are they Omni sympathizers?

  Non. They have been fighting the Omnis since last year, maybe longer, though in an unorganized way until recently. They are strong. They are honorable. It is possible that we could recruit them. Or some of them. They also have connections with another group of Omni fighters. Friends, not relatives, I think—but close enough that they share holidays and weddings with this group—who might also be contenders to join our fight.

  Changing them will take them out of the fight for a while—and at a critical juncture, Guerre said, joining the convo.

  And leaving them unchanged will as well. The Omnis will swat them as flies. Bastion pressed his lips against his teeth, then huffed a sigh. But they are not only fighters—they are husbands, papas. It becomes complicated to use them.

  I don’t want anyone else changed, but we may not have a choice in the matter, Liege said. We’re losing this fight. I’m hearing rumblings of more mutants surfacing not far from the jungle where our training camp was. It’s unclear whose side of this fight they’re on. When I know more, we’ll collect them—or terminate them—as the situation demands. Until then, we’ll continue disrupting Flynn’s activities.

  I don’t think we’re disrupting his plans—I think he’s disrupting ours, Bastion said. He’s up to something. He’s hiding behind the escalation he’s causing up here.

  A clapping sound broke Bastion from his conversation. Brett Flynn stood on the opposite side of the fire, his pale face lit by the dancing flames into something far warmer than his devilish soul. “Congratulations on your kills tonight. I thought they’d get your attention.”

  “Why are you here, Flynn?” Bastion nodded over his shoulder to the compound behind him. “These people are just regulars, blind to our world. They are no threat to the Omnis.”

  “Aren’t they? Have you no memory of the fire ants in our jungle camps? So little compared to the size of us, but still able to make us miserable. I don’t feel like suffering your friends any longer.”

  “Then walk away.”

  “I might, except then I wouldn’t know why you’re here, protecting these nothing regulars.”

  “We protect all regulars.”

  “But why the intense interest in these? Hmm?”

  Bastion started walking around the circle of fire to get to Flynn, curious whether he was here in the flesh or merely an astral projection. Flynn moved away as he approached, stepping backward as he continued his torment.

  “Did you know the town here dislikes this group? They’d love to see them destroyed and disbanded. You’ve put all of your weak defenses into protecting them, and none at all into the innocent civilians in town.”

  Bastion didn’t take the bait. “Are you ready for that step, Flynn? Exposing yourself to the world of regulars—and to your enemies within the Omni World Order—is a bold step. If everything isn’t perfectly in place when you make that leap, you will have both the Legion and the Omnis to contend with.”

  Flynn’s smile was like a jack-o’-lantern, wide and haunting. He stopped walking. So did Bastion. “I came to propose a détente.”

  “So propose it.”

  “You leave, and I leave these people alone.”

  “What do you gain in the bargain?” Bastion asked.

  “I can simplify my portfolio. If I don’t have to be here overseeing you, I can put my focus elsewhere.”

  “And what do we get for complying?”

  Flynn’s smile was chilling. “I’m into negative inducements these days. If you stay, you’ll need reinforcements up here, because my pets need to eat.”

  “Bring it. I can deal with that.”

  “Perhaps you can, but when you’re all up here fighting for these nothing regulars, who will be in Fort Collins protecting Liege’s sweet daughter?”

  Bastion heard Liege’s hiss through their mental link.

  “Of course, Liege could force her to go to the fort, but then there’s still his woman’s friends, and all the innocent women Liege’s daughter has been fighting to protect.” Flynn tilted his head as he stared at Bastion. “It’s your war. Pick your hell. I’ll know your answer if you’re still here tomorrow.”

  Wind cut across the field, lifting the flames into a tower inferno. When it settled down, Flynn was gone.

  Come back to the fort, Bastion, Liege said. We need to regroup.

  My woman is here. I cannot leave her.

  She is under your protection. She’ll be safe while we make a plan.

  Bastion listened to the still woods behind him. This batch of monsters had been dispatched, but what if more were on their way? If these had gotten through his protection and reached the house… He didn’t let himself finish that thought.

  And now Flynn had found a way to get him to abandon his post.

  Bastion went to the edge of the woods, staying deep enough in the shadows to keep from triggering the security cameras.

  Selena was standing on the patio outside the kitchen, looking his way. Damn, but her instincts were strong. She wasn’t wearing a coat, but didn’t seem affected by the cold.

  Unable to stop himself, Bastion crossed the lawn, approaching her in long strides. He ached to speak to her, craved letting her see him. He could only imagine a smile from her lips, a look of gentle welcome in her eyes. If she saw him right then, he would just be a nightmare, covered in his own blood, his eyes still glowing orange with rage from his talk with Flynn.

  Her dark hair was up in a ponytail. He telekinetically sliced the band holding it, freeing her dark mane to spill around her shoulders, leaving it to the whim of the wind. Some locks streamed across her neck, others across her mouth and forehead.

  It seemed she didn’t notice, so intense was her focus on something behind him. Bastion paused just a foot from her. Nothing was behind him, he knew, but she didn’t—her senses weren’t as acu
te as his, and she had a regular’s poor vision in the dark. He wondered if she’d heard some of the fight a little while ago or sensed the energy that lingered from it.

  He imagined stroking his fingers down her cheek, smoothing an errant lock of hair behind her ear. As if she felt his yearning, she touched her knuckles to her cheek, stroking herself as he craved to do. She closed her eyes.

  Rage danced with hunger inside him. Mon Dieu, how he wished he weren’t invisible to her.

  Why are you out here in the cold? he asked. And alone?

  Her lips parted on a sharp pull of air. She looked around, searching the empty space for him. Bastion?

  Mon amour?

  I heard something.

  It was just me. I was running in the woods.

  Show yourself.

  I cannot. He could hide the blood from her, but he still couldn’t touch her because it would soil her. No, better to stay out of sight.

  There was something else in the woods. I felt it.

  I don’t sense anything, but I will check it out. Go back inside. You’ll freeze standing out here much longer.

  I want to see you again. For real. In the flesh.

  Bastion shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him. It is not possible tonight. Go inside. I will keep you safe.

  Sooner or later, she was going to find herself confronting the ghouls. He wouldn’t be able to protect her forever.

  Movement at the window behind her caught Bastion’s attention. A face hovered there. One of the wild boys—a tall one. Hawk. His pale face seemed to float in the dark room behind him. His eyes once again looked directly at Bastion. Maybe it was a fluke. Bastion moved over to the other side of Selena, but Hawk’s eyes kept pace with him. He only pulled away when Selena looked back at the house.

  I have to go, Selena said.

  Stay away from Hawk. Something’s off with him. Bastion stood at the edge of the patio, watching her go inside, hiding this memory from her, like all the others.

  This was wrong, all the secrets and stolen memories. Nothing was really gone from her mind; at some deep subconscious level, it was all still there, festering, causing her stress that she couldn’t find the source of.