The Wastelander

by Tipsy Wanderer

  It grabbed two men by their heads using its two taloned claws. One was a scientist who screeched piteously as he was wheeled high overhead. The bones of their skulls were crushed as easily as eggshells before they were unceremoniously flung away. Fast and agile, the bird of prey carved a path through the warriors unscathed despite their guns and numbers.

  Wolves, lions, and leopards urged their powerful bodies forward as the fight unfolded. The soldiers had always known these animals were here, but until now, they hadn’t needed to worry about what the beasts were capable of!

  These creatures were as different from their wasteland counterparts as the difference between clouds and mud. Typical beasts reacted on instinct, but these were not typical animals. They knew to avoid gunfire, seek cover, and cooperate during attacks. They even employed trickery and misdirection.

  Although they were smart, the creatures weren’t taught how to fight and relied on their feral instincts. Those instincts were powerful, and even without training, they fought like veteran warriors. It was a knowledge that lived deep in their bones, muscle memory evolution couldn’t breed out of them.

  The soldiers outnumbered them, but none of them could compare to the sheer ferocity of these animals. It turned into a massacre even before they started shooting.

  Cloudhawk was surprised at how effective at killing the animals were. More than once, he saw a soldier’s head casually ripped off like it was made of paper. These creatures could fight as well and as hard as the likes of Slyfox or Mad Dog. Some were even better. It was almost more than he could believe.

  However, a few minutes after the fighting began, more figures began pushing their way in from the corridors. They leapt over barriers and scaled walls with ease, bounding up to the second floor as agilely as the animals themselves. One of them crouched on the iron bars of a handrail and launched itself into the air, leaving behind a dent where its powerful legs had kicked off. Fast as a missile, it caught the golden eagle mid-flight.

  Two powerful arms held it tightly and ripped.

  The eagle replied with a screech as its wings were savaged. However, the creature was not your typical bird. It kicked at its attacker, tearing away chunks of flesh with its talons, but this new foe didn’t seem to feel any pain. It dropped down to grab the eagle by its leg. Burdened by the extra weight as well as its own injured wing, the majestic creature was brought down to earth.

  Another enemy leapt at it on all fours. Sharp teeth clamped around the eagle’s throat.

  Its head was bitten clean off. Fresh blood splattered over the area.

  Aaaooogghh!

  Hovering over their kill, the soldiers didn’t see the flash of silver bearing down on them. With a bone-shuddering roar, the silver wolf matriarch charged, hurling her burly body into them like a runaway truck. Mighty claws swiped at each of them, leaving behind nasty, jagged wounds. These mutant warriors were tough, but even their transformed flesh couldn’t protect them. Their thick bones couldn’t bear the attacks and splintered. Still, they struggled to fight back.

  The matriarch belched a fog of acid over them.

  Roste’s transformed soldiers did not feel pain or fear. As they fought through the fog, there wasn’t an inch of them that hadn’t started to melt. Skin, fat, and muscle fell off in sizzling chunks even as the warriors continued to run ahead. They scampered towards the wolf like a pair of mad, peeled rabbits.

  Incredible! What powerful acid!

  Cloudhawk had seen the outstanding damage rotwolves could cause with this attack, but even that was hardly worth mentioning compared to the matriarch’s acid. In moments, her prey’s armor, skin, and sinews melted into an unrecognizable mass. The victims certainly weren’t going to survive.

  The two mutated fighters were handily defeated. Subject Zero was a force to be reckoned with.

  Hellflower’s hands were a blur. She was beautiful and deadly like a flower from hell, and any soldier within her line of sight was shot down. She hardly even glanced at her targets before they were slain, killing more than even the vicious animals could match.

  Amidst the carnage of the base’s guards, a frail and thin figure slowly picked its way down the corridor. Seven pitch-black mutated soldiers followed. As Academician Roste looked upon the ruin that was his lab, his expression barely changed. He offered a wheezing cough before unhurriedly picking off his glasses and necklace and slipping them into his pocket. When he spoke, he did so naturally, entirely unperturbed by what was happening around him. “I underestimated you lot.”

  Cloudhawk was on high alert. Had this monster finally showed his face? The resistance soldiers hadn’t known what they were walking into and suffered for it, but Cloudhawk and Hellflower, in particular, knew what Roste was capable of. Neither was foolish enough to take his presence lightly.

  And then, there were the dozens of creatures that hated him down to their very cores! Could he even grasp that?

  Slowly, the Academician began to change. His body swelled, and the color drained from his skin, leaving him with a pale blue hue. Meaty hands lifted his staff and pulled, revealing a hidden blade attached to the handle. The blade was no wider than the width of two fingers. It was thin, narrow, and exceedingly common in appearance. In fact, it was a high-frequency ion blade, one that could cut iron as easily as a stick of butter.

  Hellflower took the first shot.

  Roste moved like the wind, jerking his enormous body from side to side so easily that the bullets danced right by. Hellflower’s accuracy was legendary, but even though she was fighting in close proximity within the narrow confines of the corridor, she could not hit her mark. He was too fast. Her attacks were hardly worth his consideration.

  Three of his animal victims charged, thirsty for revenge.

  Roste raised his weapon and swept by, as fluid as a specter. All three animals were cut in half mid-leap, discovering firsthand how deadly his weapon was. Their flesh and bone meant nothing to something that could split sheets of iron.

  One of the wastelands lizards saw the consequences of melee combat and instead spat at Roste. A plume of fire consumed the corridor in scorching heat that would cook a normal human in moments. Yet, as the fires engulfed the Academician, his body’s surface was covered in a heat-deflecting shell. The intense heat caused him no damage.

  A flash of steel. The lizard’s head hit the ground with a thud and rolled away.

  His movements were deft and easy, as though he were just cutting a stick of wood. He buried his sword in the body of a rat that had tried to move in for a sneak attack. It did not dodge, and even though the rat was impaled by the humming blade, it lurched forward, desperately clawing at the Academician. Its whole body began to smolder and turned red.

  It exploded, flooding the hallway with blood and concussive force.

  Self-destruction? Cloudhawk had seen this before. One of these had killed his friend Woola.

  These detonating lab rats were much more dangerous. The explosion had blown Roste’s clothes to shreds but left him without any major injuries. Parts of his body exposed to the blast were covered in a ribbed, heat-resistant crust. He hadn’t been hurt, but the force of the explosion had thrown him into the air.

  Hyena raced forward. Strong legs launched him into the air, and when he reached the Academician’s side, he swung himself around and whipped his leg at the scientist. Roste was smacked out of the area and hit the ground, leaving a small crater.

  To Hyena, it hadn’t felt like he’d kicked a body, but rather a sturdy lump of rubber. Any force exerted by his kick was diffused. Roste’s body could adapt to any outside stimulus immediately, rendering all attacks useless. Guns, knives, fire, explosions – even critically powerful attacks were shrugged off like they were nothing.

  Then, to add insult to injury, the freak had freakish regenerative abilities as well!

  Roste slowly gathered himself up from the ground. His massive, stately, blue-tinged body towered over them like a giant. Every muscle in his body, even his facial
features, was finely chiseled so that he looked less like a man and more like a carving of the ancient gods. “I told you it is no use. My body is perfect.”

  125 Hysteria

  This nightmare of a man possessed terrifying strength, speed, power, regeneration, adaptability… if he stood still and let them attack, they still wouldn’t be able to do him any harm. In addition, he bore a sword that could cut through bone like tofu. Like the grim reaper, a god of death, he was invincible.

  “No, not perfect!” Cloudhawk railed against Roste’s domineering aura, shouting his defiance, “I don’t think he can keep it up!”

  Hellflower and Hyena were enlightened and inspired by the boy’s words. Yes! He had to be right. There were limits to any power. The energy in Roste’s cells couldn’t be limitless, so if they kept up their attack, he would continue to weaken until he eventually burnt out.

  Roste hacked at the sturdy scales of a lizardman attacker and brutally split him from skull to coccyx. The Academician was covered in the blood of the mutant beasts but never once did his blackish-green eyes change their dull expression. “Everyone has their limits. I am no exception. But, do you think you few are capable of forcing me to reach it? Do not overestimate your power.”

  Roste cleaved apart two more beasts as he spoke. Each action seemed easy, almost lazy. There was no indication that he was tiring out. The creatures he killed were the fruits of his labor, built through his own efforts, and yet, he cut them down without the slightest hesitation. The lives he took were worth less to him than rotten wood. In his ambitious heart, there was only progress and the tools needed to achieve it, leaving no room for any respect for life. Under his heartless assault, the animals were pushed back step by step.

  Today, either he died, or everyone else did. There was no third outcome!

  Two transformed soldiers attempted a sneak attack against the rebels from both flanks. Hellflower, ever vigilant, lifted her guns and unloaded several shots into both of them. There was a bullet fired at each of their heads, which punched right through their sturdy skulls. Mutant soldiers were sturdy, but their bodies were not impenetrable.

  However, as she was busy dealing with them, Roste made his move. No one barred his path so he was on them in a blink. Hellflower didn’t even have time to stagger backwards, but Cloudhawk stepped up in her defense. The exorcist rod whirred in his hands, and as his cloak flapped in the artificial breeze, he disappeared.

  “Kill! Kill!”

  Hyena refused to be pushed back. Steeped in the throes of bloodlust, he charged ahead without regard for his own safety. His words were almost indistinguishable from an animal’s cry, not human but the roar of an alpha wolf commanding its pack. All the mighty beasts around, faced with the threat of death, summoned every ounce of ferocity bred into their bones. Without fear or hesitation, they charged at the Academician.

  Though they were creatures of the wilds, they had emotions. They felt rage! They yearned for life and freedom!

  Many were bred in captivity, and from a young age, suffered pain that made them beg for death. Unthinkably agonizing experiments and terrible drugs stimulated brain development, imbuing them with the capacity for memory and critical thought. With it came emotion, and underneath it all, that unyielding feral spirit which defined them refuse to be cowed.

  Days of torment turned into months, which turned into years. They were forced to watch as their own brethren were drained of blood and marrow. It did not escape their notice that their numbers were constantly dwindling. The only thing these tortured, mutated creatures could hold on to was hatred. It was a loathing that had been brewing in their hearts for years.

  Roste was the culprit! It was all because of him! Countless nights of random killing, of being eaten alive, were fresh in their memories. He consumed them to fuel his own need and hunger.

  Roste was the root of their fear and the focus of their enmity. At last, they could act on that all-consuming anger and kill the hateful demon who’d imprisoned them!

  The Academician faced Hyena, the frenzied shapeshifter who was leading his brethren in their desperate charge. A taunting light glimmered in his hateful eyes. This pitiful man, he thought. The beast has consumed what remained of his humanity. Keeping him alive is a danger to the wastelands. It is time to eliminate this failed experiment.

  Hyena was as strong as Greenland Outpost’s former leader, Hydra. Roste had capabilities on the same level as the Bloodsoaked Queen.

  At her peak, the Bloodsoaked Queen could destroy the likes of Hydra without breaking a sweat. He was nowhere near her level. It was the same between Roste and Hyena. The shapeshifter was fast, but his maker was faster!

  The Academician’s cane sword split the dim light of the lab like a comet. Light glinted off the steel like a flash of lightning. Without any fancy moves, without any wasted motions, he thrust forward. It was simplicity in its purest form, but it left Hyena no way to dodge or block.

  On the surface, it looked like Hyena was carelessly exposing his heart. Roste’s sword was poised to run him through as though he were made of paper when Cloudhawk appeared from the ether. In that crucial moment, the young warrior materialized between them with his exorcist rod held high. A burst of energy pulsed forth as staff met sword. Amidst the sparks, Roste’s deadly sword was knocked off course.

  However, it was not diverted enough to miss Hyena completely. The shapeshifter suffered a nasty gash, but it did not slow him down in the least. He unleashed all of his stored up energy through his fist into Roste’s chest. As expected, the Academician’s flesh hardened into a thick shell just before impact. But this time, Hyena’s blow left a mark.

  Cloudhawk followed on his heels with the exorcist rod. A tempest of energy blasted outward.

  Roste could retaliate, but Cloudhawk was too precious. He was loath to harm the young demon hunter. In turn, Cloudhawk was emboldened by this knowledge. If he were anyone else, fighting up close in this way would be a death sentence. He would have been stomped into paste right away.

  “Now! Before it’s too late.” Cloudhawk hollered, “Attack!”

  A dozen animal experiments dashed forward. Poisonous lizardmen spat acid at the Academician. Wolfmen belched caustic fumes. Giant rats skittered forward, ready to sacrifice their explosive bodies. All of them charged, ready to face death without blinking.

  Hellflower raised a large caliber rifle and leveled it at her target.

  Bang!

  She hit Roste right in the head, the bullet striking so hard that he lost his balance and fell to the ground. The animals set upon him, trying to rip him apart.

  His cane sword whined and shuddered like a weapon from the depths of hell.

  Roste seemed to have been temporarily paralyzed. And yet, when he hit the ground, he bounced back up so quickly that the creatures on top of him were blown back. Anything in the path of Roste’s high-frequency sword was severed, and several of their animal allies were sliced to ribbons. A fog of blood several feet in diameter surrounded the Academician, and the walls were painted with the remains of his victims.

  Roste himself was showing signs of damage. Even if he were made from steel inside and out, after such quick and ferocious attacks, he couldn’t have escaped without injury. Hellflower’s shot to the head had ripped off a section of scalp, revealing fractured bone beneath. Severe injuries marked his back, torso, and arms.

  Only, it was no use!

  Roste’s fractured skull knitted itself up in seconds, so fast that they could see his flesh grow over the patch before their very eyes. The other injuries healed just as quickly, which made the defenders’ hair stand on end. There was no way they could beat him, not like this. Even with fresh animal attackers coming in waves, even with all of them fighting with every fiber of their beings, they still couldn’t cause him any permanent damage!

  However, Roste seemed to fear the present danger. The most potent threat was Hellflower and her gun. It packed an incredible punch, and as unlikely as it was to penetrate hi
s skin, it was better to be safe. She had to be dealt with quickly.

  She aimed and fired again, this time aiming the barrel at his eye socket. Roste flung himself to the side, fast enough to protect his eye but not fast enough to stop the passing bullet from tearing off the skin from one side of his face.

  Expressionlessly, he slowly bent his knees, coiling like a spring. He gathered up pressure and then released it all at once to shoot out like a cannonball. He broke through the crowds of vicious beasts as a pair of meaty wings simultaneously slithered out of his back. After a moment, he stabilized and traced an arc through the air.

  “Motherfucker! He can fly!”

  Cloudhawk stared in disbelief when the wings emerged from Roste’s back. Compared to the eagle before, these wings were weak. The freakish mutation didn’t allow for effortless soaring. However, they were good enough to allow him to glide. Elevated high above the animals, he was able to avoid their sharp claws and jagged teeth as he headed for Hellflower. He came down towards her with his cane sword held tightly in both hands.

  She turned as white as a sheet. Hellflower wanted to run, but she was caught in his sights. It was too late.

  Clang!

  The grating sound of metal on metal made her teeth grind.

  Cloudhawk, again!

  He was channeling his psychic energy through the staff and once again used it to deflect Roste’s sword. However, even his relic weapon was only able to protect them from so many blows. What’s more, the Academician’s strength was overpowering. Although Cloudhawk had grown stronger during the last torturous week, it still felt like having a mountain dropped on top of him. The force of the impact nearly forced him to his knees. His joints popped audibly from the strain, and he could tell that his right elbow and shoulder had been dislocated.

  Hellflower stared wide-eyed at the edge of Roste’s blade, which had stopped inches from her nose. A single bead of sweat rolled off her forehead. Without even thinking, she pulled the trigger and her gun discharged point blank into their foe’s chest. The Academician was blasted back but spread his wings in midair to regain balance.