Animus series Boxed Set

by Michael Anderle

  Animus™ Boxed Set One

  (Books 1-4)

  Joshua Anderle

  Michael Anderle

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2019 Joshua Anderle and Michael Anderle

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, July 2019

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-64202-332-9

  Contents

  Initiate

  CO-OP

  Death Match

  Advance

  Books by Michael Anderle

  Connect with Michael Anderle

  Initiate

  Animus Book 1

  Chapter One

  He made it in time, though with scant minutes to spare. The wispy hum echoed through the streets as Seattle’s biosphere activated, and the lively blue skies morphed into a foreboding gray.

  Kaiden looked up as hexagonal patterns of white shimmered through the sky, leaving trace amounts of element-seeds that were sown unnaturally into the air. Rainfall would start in about five minutes.

  The streets cleared rapidly, and he followed suit, heading to his destination and possible place of employment.

  The smooth sounds of saxophones accented with electro-ambiance greeted him when he stepped into the Emerald Lounge and took a cursory look at the interior. Chairs, tables, and walls shared a dull dark-green color, and a retro neon-green sign proudly declared the establishment’s name over the bar.

  He walked over to the bartender, a Hispanic man with a thick mustache and comb-over who leaned against the counter. The luxuriant strands were surprisingly novel in a time where hair-loss remedies could be bought for five credits and droned over to the purchaser in less than an hour.

  Is this man making a statement or is he merely out of shits to give?

  “Hey, hombre, I’m looking for Julio…” His voice trailed off. He was conflicted as to whether he should feel stupid for making assumptions or because he hadn’t made the connection.

  “Looking at him.” The bartender’s gaze made a slow up and down scrutiny, and Kaiden willed himself to remain outwardly unmoved. “Also, buddy, pal, or dude works just fine.” He chuckled, his voice the sound of gravel and dust as he dropped the towel he held. “How can I help you?”

  “Ricky set up an interview for me.” Kaiden looked in the mirror, then back at the bartender. “My name is Kaiden. Kaiden Jericho.”

  The man sized him up once more and nodded. “Can I see your…ID?” He placed a knowing emphasis on the last word.

  Kaiden nodded and pulled his long sleeve up over his shoulder to reveal the tattoo of a skull and longhorns. Old-time Peacemaker gun barrels replaced the horns, and a lone star almost filled the right eye.

  Julio nodded and motioned for him to put his sleeve down. “Good to see you out here, Kaiden. Ricky tried to set a few of you up over the last few months.” He retrieved the towel and picked a glass up to wipe it. “You’re the only one who’s shown up so far.”

  Kaiden nodded and removed a credit chip from the security pouch on his waistband.

  He made a drinking motion with his free hand. “Put that away.” Julio gestured to the chip. “Considering all that went down, it’s nice to see another Dead-Eye breathing.” He chuckled. “Just don’t drink me under.”

  He brought out a couple of shot glasses and showed him a bottle of Devil’s Cut whiskey, Kaiden nodded as he put the chip back and Julio filled both glasses. They saluted one another and downed the smoky liquid.

  “Nice place.” Kaiden looked around. “Is it yours?” he asked as Julio refilled the glasses.

  The bartender nodded. “Is now. Previous owner kicked the bucket and his kid didn’t want to run it, so I got it for a steal.” They each took another shot. “Poor bastard accidentally slit his throat while shaving. Tragic.”

  Kaiden chuckled. “Always sad when that happens. The old proprietor didn’t happen to have any friends in the aquarium, did he?”

  Julio smirked. “Nah, it wasn’t the Blues. They’re into illegal modding and EI cracking now. He probably pissed some gamblers off or scuffed the shoes of a Zaibatsu leader or something. I ain’t gonna complain. It’s probably why the kid didn’t want to run the bar—thought they would go for him next.”

  “Did ya check the books for anything suspicious before putting your savings down?”

  Julio gave him a wry look. “Ricky really make me sound that foolish?” He huffed as he pulled the collar of his dress shirt down to reveal a similar tattoo to Kaiden’s but with an added bullet looming between the horns.

  “A division leader, huh?” Kaiden took the whiskey bottle and poured two more shots.

  Julio raised an eyebrow. “He really didn’t tell you?”

  Kaiden considered his response as he raised his glass and downed it before he replied. “Not unless ‘Mi Tio’ is a codename now.”

  Julio let out an annoyed sigh and chased down his shot. “Little punk always did try to flex his lineage. I’m surprised he didn’t get his ass booted with all his mouthing off.”

  “Ricky is—was—a good runner. I expected him to come here himself. I don’t know what he’s up to now,” Kaiden said, then heard both a boisterous laugh and the pounding sounds of rain.

  He looked behind him to see a group of four men tumble into the bar, all dressed in black leather jackets with silver and white circular accents. Their haircuts were stylized versions of punk and slaver cuts.

  Kaiden grimaced. They were obviously slummer-gangers, rich kids and artsy bastards wanting the edgiest looks Daddy could buy.

  Harmless to most, but they made his stomach turn.

  Julio poured two more shots as he nodded in the direction of the rich punks. “Don’t worry about them. They may cause a fuss, but Papa always pays for anything they break.”

  Kaiden studied the new arrivals, the attention deliberately casual to avoid notice. “Ya seem pretty laid back for a guy Ricky said was looking for a bouncer,” he commented and turned away from the newcomers.

  Julio shrugged. “I believe the term nowadays is ‘doorman.’ It adds a sort of class to the gig. Besides, someone like you would probably get bored with just standing around and giving the stink-eye now and again. Once you get set up, I’ll see about some side jobs that are more your type of fun.”

  Kaiden considered this for a moment.

  Ever since he left Fresno, he had received calls and requests for various odd jobs, the kind he might have jumped at back when Jake asked for takers. But in the aftermath of that day…

  He placed his hand on his tattoo, and his jaw went tight. “Perhaps, but considering what went down? Maybe ya shouldn’t have me be anyone’s guardian angel for a bit.”

  Julio gave him a somber look. “I get it, kid, but you can’t—” Wood snapping and angry yells pierced their grim mood.

  Julio, Kaiden, and the few patrons in the lounge looked over to the top left section of the bar. The four slumm
ers crowded around another man, blond with a green jacket, who looked to be in his early twenties and was clearly frightened.

  Kaiden scowled as he watched the scene unfold.

  One of the slummers pushed the blond to the floor. Another put his boot on the downed man’s chest and seemed to be hurling insults through gritted but perfectly aligned teeth.

  Kaiden rapped his fingers against the bar for a few moments. He wondered if it would seem unprofessional to physically blow off some steam in front of his potential employer.

  Julio, to his credit, picked up the signal. “Hey, if you still want the job…” he began with a wry smile and a nod to the assholes. “I’ll need a demonstration of your skills.” Kaiden gave him a bemused look. “Ricky said you were a damn good fighter, but he’ll say anything to make him and his pals look good. So, if you can back it up, show me. The slummers’ papa will reimburse me for damages. After all, it’s not like you’re on the clock just yet.”

  Kaiden nodded, picked up his still full whiskey glass, and gave him a brief salute. “If ya catch it on the cams, save me a copy, will ya?” With that, he walked over to the stairs.

  “You think…you can just…leave us, you damn coward?” one of the slummers growled between each booted kick. The downed man lay immobile.

  Kaiden took a good look at the jackasses once he reached the summit of the staircase. The man kicking the helpless patron had several chains around his neck and wrist and a shaved head with a blue Saturn ring of hair—quite immaculately done, as well.

  He was shadowed by two others with half-shaved heads and long bangs on opposite sides—platinum and rose hair, along with other designer shades.

  The one in the back who’d pushed the man down was the biggest of the bunch, standing around six and a half feet with a head of spiked white hair and neck that looked like a spark plug.

  Kaiden let out a sharp whistle as he swirled his shot glass. The four glanced at him as he leaned against the railing, “You know, I’m trying to enjoy an evening of whiskey and wit, but you are making that a damn chore. Your horrible fashion makes my eyes water, but I can ignore that.” He shook his head. “The castrato war cries? Not so much.”

  He had their attention. “None of us gives a shit, crank,” the one with the chains retorted. “As far as you’re concerned, we own this bar, and if you don’t beat it”—he jerked a thumb over his shoulder—“Moxy here will be happy to blackjack your head into a bowl to piss in.”

  The big one in the back cracked his neck dramatically to back up the threat.

  “Moxy?” Kaiden’s eyes half-closed, and he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “A bit of advice for you dickheads. Don’t get inspiration for your face names from your childhood dog.”

  “He took it in his dog’s honor,” the platinum-haired one responded with open belligerence.

  Kaiden let the moment linger, a bemused smile creeping slowly onto his face as the others turned to glare at him.

  “Dammit, Zed, shut the hell up,” the blue-haired one commanded, followed by an annoyed growl.

  “Oh, uh, sorry, Barry.”

  “It’s Czar, you fucking idiot!”

  “Seriously, bro, shut the hell up,” the rose-haired one interjected.

  Kaiden chuckled. This might be too unfair. “So Moxy, Zed, and Czar, and you are…” He pointed to the last one. “Rosie the slaughterer, I’m guessing?”

  “It’s Zane, shithead,” he replied, tapping his fingers against his forehead in frustration.

  Kaiden waved his hand in a circle. “You guys are precious. Now, I’m sure you’re late for racquetball practice or whatever the hell you need to go do, so how about you let your friend here go and leave before your hair gel melts all over your nice jackets?”

  Czar gave the man on the floor a final kick. Kaiden’s grip tightened around his drink in anger as the bully stepped over to him and stared right into his eyes.

  “He isn’t a friend anymore. He left us to go to that academy, and we don’t take kindly to deserters.”

  Kaiden shrugged. “Yeah, I’m sure. You take away all their membership benefits—like twenty percent off hair dye and free chardonnay on Wednesdays.”

  Czar gripped Kaiden’s collar. “Shut up. If you keep making jokes, we will pummel the shit out of you right into the floor. I’ll see to it that my lawyers make sure you pay for any smudges on my jacket while I’m at it.”

  Kaiden lifted a finger and tapped the tip of the man’s nose. “Well, at least you acknowledge your affluence-induced stupidity,” he said as he downed his shot. “But you’re probably gonna have to wait to identify me until your jaw heals up.”

  With that, he flicked his shot glass into the air. Czar looked up momentarily while Kaiden balled his fist and slammed it into the underside of the man’s nose. A painful cracking noise resounded as he crumpled to the floor.

  Kaiden caught the glass as it fell, smiling at the other slummers.

  He flung the glass at Moxy, shattering it against his head and flinging shards into his eyes. The man’s tough persona disintegrated as he fell to his knees and screamed, trying to dig out the glass.

  Zane rushed forward, with Zed following a few steps behind.

  Kaiden kicked a chair into the brothers’ path. They stumbled over it and each other, and he dashed toward Zed as he began to stagger up and sent his knee flying into the platinum-haired punk’s chest.

  Zane stood behind him and threw a punch, which Kaiden caught and then twisted the boy’s arm. Zane emitted a few pained grunts before the would-be bouncer threw a real punch into his right cheek.

  By this time, Moxy had recovered and charged Kaiden with fury and one eye closed. He dodged around the larger man and kicked his knees, causing him to tumble forward.

  He jumped on Moxy’s back and put him in a chokehold, holding him there until the big bastard finally passed out.

  Kaiden walked over to the victim of the gang’s beatings and pulled him to his feet.

  “Thank you, I…” he began. Kaiden saw Czar stumbling back to his feet, blood pouring from his mouth and his teeth not quite as nicely aligned as before.

  “Hold that for a moment.” Kaiden shook his head as the punk yanked out an ornate knife handle and flicked open a six-inch blade.

  He charged at Kaiden, who grabbed the knife-wielding arm and twisted it. Czar’s hand opened and dropped the blade. “How’s your health plan?” he asked, looking into the slummer’s shocked eyes. “Time you get some practical use out of it.” He finished the statement with a smirk as he flung Czar over both his shoulder and the railing to the floor below.

  The slummer landed with a heavy thud.

  “That’s gotta hurt…”

  Kaiden looked down at Czar. His head was bent to one side, and his eyes were closed.

  He couldn’t tell if the man was unconscious, but he seemed smart enough to at least pretend to be.

  Kaiden looked at Zed and Zane, who were conscious, but after seeing that display, they looked at him, then at each other, and simply placed their heads on the ground. He smiled as he turned back to the blond man. “Don’t worry about it. Not to sound like an ass, but that was more for my pleasure than heroism.”

  “I suppose I’m lucky you have such volatile hobbies, then,” the man said with some caution in his voice. “Nevertheless, thank you, My name is Ben, and that was my cousin you sent over the railing.”

  “Genetics can be a bitch like that,” Kaiden joked as he crossed his arms and leaned against the railing. “No hard feelings, yeah? Don’t really feel like being sued.”

  “None—at least none toward you.” Ben sighed as he reached into his jacket and brought out a silver box. It bore an insignia engraved with an N inside a triangle. “I thought the Academy would be my way of actually making a name for myself instead of merely pretending to be a bigshot like they do, but I couldn’t even fight back against these idiots with no real martial training.” He looked at Kaiden, then back at the box. “I suppos
e I should be looking elsewhere to find a profession. Something tells me I wouldn’t last too long there with my skills.”

  “You all kept talking about the Academy. What academy?” Kaiden asked, which drew a shocked response from Ben.

  “Nexus Academy? How do you not know about that? I thought you were going there, considering how good a fighter you are.”

  Not sure I had to be good to take these guys out, but I’ll just shut up and take the compliment. Kaiden smiled at the thought. “Yeah, I knew of it, but there is more than one academy, you know.”

  “Perhaps, but not one as refined, advanced, and reputable as ours,” a studious voice replied from behind them. Kaiden and Ben looked over to see a tall man with slicked-back white hair and a goatee. He wore a white-and-black jacket with the same insignia that was on Ben’s box on the left breast. Some kind of apparatus around his head connected to the black-shaded oculus that obscured his eyes.

  “Commander Sasha?” Ben asked incredulously.

  “Indeed”—Kaiden was able to make out dim lights dancing in his glasses—“Initiate Benjamin Hargrove. It is also ‘professor,’ considering my station at the Academy now.” The professor looked at the two younger men. “Well fought, I must say, though I do not think those slummers were much of a challenge to someone with real fighting ability.”

  “Actually, I was just thinking that,” Kaiden replied. “So you know this guy here, and you didn’t do anything to help him?”

  “Initiate Hargrove is an academy hopeful, and that comes with expectations. When such occasions as this arise, he should be able to handle himself. If the situation had escalated, I would have stepped in.