Into the Fire

by Mark Tufo

  I was finally coming to an understanding with my exhaustion and was now getting really curious about what was definitely a weapon. Even Reaper and BT were gravitating to it. I think Kap would have as well if his clothes wouldn’t have rubbed against him when he walked. The whine of the drone was getting closer. Rakinall hit a switch and we heard an audible sound like the hum of an electrical transformer starting up. We’d all been getting closer up until the dish-looking thing began to glow yellow. When Rakinall backed up, that was all the impetus we needed to join him.

  “You may wish to cover your eyes or look away,” Keecan said, just as a brilliant beam of light shot up.

  “Too late,” I said, fearing that I had just seared my retinas. Before I had gone completely blind, I saw something that no beam of light had ever done. The beam had gone straight up into the air about fifty feet and then hooked a hard left. The light launcher kept pumping out the beam and the light kept following the path, like a river that had cut a corridor over the millennia through bedrock. I was in the midst of light blindness when I heard an explosion perhaps a mile or two off. Rakinall cautiously moved back in, shut the beam off, and began to break down the weapon.

  “We must go,” Keecan said. “We have destroyed the drone and they will send more to investigate.” I wanted to ask him how the anti-aircraft weapon worked but saving our lives was paramount at the moment.

  “Oh, for the love of God, leave me be,” Kap pleaded when Lumbal resumed his burden.

  “Mike, I don’t know how much I have left.” BT looked at me.

  “We’ll just go far enough to find a place we can hole up,” I promised. “I’m on my last legs as well.”

  “Pussies,” Tracy said right before she began to trot off.

  “Is she kidding?” BT asked.

  I didn’t have the energy or inclination to answer. We fell in behind the moving column. “Far enough” was somewhere in the ten-mile range, add that to the ten miles previous, and I was spent. If we had to move again, they were going without me. My stores of energy were completely depleted; I think the only thing that had kept me moving was muscle memory. Even Tracy looked on the verge of collapse. Strangely, I got no sense of satisfaction from that.

  Keecan led the way as we walked into Edward’s Mattress and Furniture Emporium. I almost cried twenty feet in. The big thing about apocalyptic events is that there generally isn’t a big run on bedding. The mattresses had certainly seen better days; but right now, they had a strong siren call coming from them that thus far usurped any of the dirt and debris that coated a fair portion of them. I didn’t even give a shit when Keecan took charge and assigned a rotation for guards.

  “Mike.” Tracy had shaken my shoulder. I’d just dropped down onto a king-size bed, the dust not even having the time to settle yet.

  “Not tonight, honey, I have a body ache,” I told her.

  “Get up.” She shook me more vigorously. I noted jealously that BT was already softly snoring. Reaper was tending to Kap to see if any more damage had been wrought on his ride. Tough to tell who looked more miserable.

  I sat up with great difficulty. “What?” I tried to take as much of the annoyance as I could out of that question. By the look on my wife’s face, it wasn’t enough. “Sorry.” Even on the verge of death-by-exhaustion I knew better than to twist a tiger’s tail.

  “I don’t trust the Genos. I think we should post a guard to watch them.”

  “Keecan!” I managed to shout.

  “Yes, hu-man?”

  “Do you plan us harm?”

  He looked at me for a second. (All of us actually.) “It is true we are normally adversaries, but these are abnormal times. We are allies right now, and thusly, I would not cause you or those you travel with harm.”

  “And what would change that status?” I asked, now curious myself.

  “The total destruction of those who chase us.”

  “Just those forty-two or all Devastators?”

  “Just those forty-two.”

  “Well, thank you for that clarification.” He resumed what he was doing, probably trying to figure out how best to become a super-villain in some fairytale. “Satisfied?” I asked Tracy.

  “Are you serious?”

  “They don’t lie. Now unless they somehow destroy those Mutes without us knowing, we’re fairly safe. I mean from them, at least. I’m getting some sleep, and I suggest you do as well. If they want to pull guard duty, I’m all for it.” I think I heard her sigh just as my head bounced down. I remembered a strong musty scent as my head sunk into the pillow and then, blissfully…nothing.

  Chapter 21

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – MIKE JOURNAL ENTRY 12

  The sleep, no matter how long it was, was too short. The parts of me that didn’t hurt were greatly outnumbered by the parts that did. For the time being, taking care of them was going to have to wait. I wasn’t awoken because I’d felt I’d slept long enough, but rather by the sounds of battle, or more like the approach of an impending battle. I know this is going to sound weird, and unless you’ve ever been in a skirmish, this won’t make too much sense. There was an absolute quiet, a hush, an eerie expectancy maybe. We all must have felt it. BT was moving slower than me, but he was still up and around. Kap was awake and checking his gun, as was Reaper. Tracy was already at the window. That’s when it got real scary.

  “Where are the Genos?” I asked. They were noticeably absent. I, all of a sudden, felt very much like a fish in a barrel. Tracy’s last words to me were going to be “I told you so.”

  The store front doors blew inwards in a hail of red pulses and molten glass pellets. I overturned my bed just as the incoming projectiles slammed into it. I could smell the mattress as it began to melt. Kap’s machinegun opened up as he blasted away at the door remnants. I could not see anyone entering, and he was giving them great pause to reconsider their shopping experience. A display window to our far right blew in much like the doors. We were about to come under some serious crossfire.

  “Kap, do you and Reap have this side?” He nodded.

  I bolted to the other window, Tracy and BT almost even with me as we ran. Furniture began to catch on fire as more and more of the Mute rounds made contact.

  I got low and slid into the wall directly underneath the large window, popping my head up quickly to see what was going on. Two Mutes were visible and coming closer. They seemed to be getting some covering support from at least a half dozen different places. Tracy fired a few rounds as she also dove for cover.

  “How do they know where we are?” BT asked as he placed a magazine in his rifle.

  “Genos probably told them.” Tracy was steamed.

  “I doubt it.” I kneeled, bringing my weapon up to rest the barrel on the sill.

  The two Mutes had gotten within twenty yards when I sent two three-round bursts into the one on the right. He about shrugged the first volley off but the second burst hit him in his unarmored knee and thigh. Blood sprayed and cartilage pulled back exposing the joint. Tendons began to unravel as he fell over to the right. Didn’t stop him from shooting, though. I had little time to celebrate as nearly a hundred bolts, enough to light up the parking lot, flew overhead or into the wall. We could all feel the heat as the cement bricks absorbed the rounds.

  “We’re going to have to move back, these blocks are not going to take much more.” Tracy had her hand on the wall and pulled it back quickly.

  With so many rounds coming in, it at least kept the other Mutes from moving closer. We hastily moved back as we heard the concrete cinder blocks began to crack from the intense heat. We found ourselves ten feet from the window behind a knee wall that sectioned off a dining room set.

  “We paid almost twice that,” Tracy said as she sat next to me.

  “Huh?”

  “The table and chairs we’re next to. We almost paid double what they’re asking here.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  I think she thought I was referring to the price because
she said, “I know, right?!”

  I was really referring to the fact that she was talking about furniture during a firefight, in case there is any confusion.

  “These chairs are nicer than ours.” She ran her hand along the wood back.

  BT looked past her and to me. I placed my pointer finger to my lips, lest he say something that got us both in trouble.

  Reaper and Kap began firing simultaneously as two Mutes were attempting to breach the entrance.

  “Got some problems over here, Mike!” Reaper shouted. One of the Mutes had gone down in a bloody heap. The other had limped over to some cover while more were attempting to gain entry.

  “Shit. BT, you keep an eye on this window. Trace, you with me?” She still had her eyes on the oak table.

  We were halfway to the exit when BT’s gun began to fire. I turned to see four Mutes diving through the window. We were stuck in No Man’s Land, not able to help either side. BT had emptied a magazine and got low to reload.

  “Go help him, I’m good,” Tracy told me as she moved towards the entrance.

  I did not like the idea of splitting up, but for now, it was the right thing to do. A Mute was running right for BT’s location and would be upon him in a second or two. My heart was racing so quickly I could not even begin to get off a well-aimed shot. Thankfully, the Mutes were so fucking big as my first two shots hit him in the upper torso. Must have hurt like a bastard because he threw his head back in a savage growl. As the rifle climbed upwards from the recoil, my third round found him in his exposed neck, laying waste to the relatively soft tissue. A fountain of blood issued forth as his head came back down. He stared at me and took a step forward before collapsing with his hands around his throat, trying to stem the tide of his life from spilling out onto the floor. BT peeked over the wall to see how close the Mute had been. I could see the thanks in his eyes. I came to a sliding stop just as return fire whistled past my ear.

  “This sucks, Mike.”

  What could I say? I agreed wholeheartedly. I was relieved to see Tracy had found some cover as well and was returning fire.

  “How much ammo you got?”

  “Couple hundred rounds,” BT answered.

  “They’re going to pin us down, and we’re going to be in a world of hurt soon. I need you to cover me.”

  “Why?” But I was already on the move.

  I hopped over the knee-high wall and was heading for the downed Mute. He was pissed at my rashness, but it didn’t stop him from unloading a magazine into the direction of our enemy. Their shots calmed for the moment. I reached down to grab the oversized weapon and quickly realized my mistake. The downed Mute was just that; down but not out. His eyes burned with hatred as he looked at me. A hand that had been busy trying to stop the torrent of blood reached out and wrapped almost around half of my torso like I was a child’s toy. He began to squeeze, I could feel my internal organs beginning to grind up against each other. My rib cage was being compressed like a slinky. My rifle and my right arm were pinned against my body, the metal the only thing keeping me from being crushed like a used up beer can. I could feel the bones in my arm shifting as he applied more pressure.

  “Why aren’t you dead yet?” I grunted.

  I moved my trigger finger wildly, trying to find what it was designed for. I was so close to blacking out I never even heard my rifle shoot as I unloaded what was left of my magazine into his offending upper arm and shoulder. Thick white bone glistened back at me from the wound. I’d nearly de-limbed him in my frenzy to be free of him. His eyes still burned with that intensity but he no longer had the blood or the strength to lift his other arm in an attempt to get at me. I hastily pulled in some air, happy he’d not had the chance to crack a rib. I bent over, making damn sure to stay away from his mouth, and grabbed his rifle. His eyes tracked me the entire time, even as I reared back and kicked him for all I was worth in the side of the head.

  “Fuck you,” I spat before stumbling back to BT.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” BT asked in alarm as I came back around.

  “Fucker thought I was a can of Pillsbury dough and was trying to make me ooze out of my container.”

  “Looks like you just smoked some crack, your eyes are all bloodshot.”

  “Must have broken some blood vessels. I’m just glad he didn’t add bones to that. Still worth it.” I placed the barrel of my new weapon upon the knee wall top and started firing.

  “I have got to get me one of those.” BT was kneeling next to me, watching me tear up the furniture store and killing at least two Mutes in the process.

  “Well, there you go,” I said, pointing to a clearly dead Mute that was half hidden behind a floral covered divan. At least that’s what I think it was called.

  “You’re faster than I am.”

  “I don’t care if I could fly, I’m not going out there again.” I was pivoting the gun back and forth, continuously firing. At forty, maybe forty-five pounds, the rifle was heavy, and I probably looked like a kid wielding his dad’s twelve-gauge shotgun. I could run around with the thing, but I’d be shooting from the hip and it would not be very long between breaks. I, we, in actuality, needed some of the more human-friendly Geno versions. “And, oh yeah, I don’t think I’m faster than you either.”

  “How could you be? You’re white.”

  “White car beats black freight train, every day.”

  “Yeah, unless they collide,” he said just as he went over the wall.

  “True that.”

  BT was about as agile as a bowling ball, basically going through any displays that got in his way rather than around. As near as I could tell, we still had three, possibly four Mutes in the store. I couldn’t understand why they had not sent more. They did not fear death in any way that made sense. Either they didn’t think they could die or they knew that whatever was on the other side was afraid of them as well. Probably didn’t want them there any more than we wanted them here. I almost went down the path of wondering if genetically created beings even had souls that they needed to worry about when we heard another battle being waged outside.

  “The Genos are back!” BT shouted as he grabbed the rifle. This was all the impulsion the Mute needed to locate and fire upon him. Luckily I was quicker.

  “That’s twice. This shit is going to start earning interest soon,” I told him.

  “MIKE!” Tracy yelled.

  I bolted, BT was safe for the moment. Funny what a burst of straight adrenaline can do to your system, as I ran with that rifle up like it was a Daisy BB gun, and was off to help my wife.

  Two Mutes were coming up on my wife’s location blasting everything in their path. She was crouched behind a dresser, splinters of wood and scorched material raining down from seemingly everywhere. She was messing with her bolt group, which led me to believe she was having some sort of malfunction. They were now less than ten feet from her and taking aim at the dresser. A quick glance to Reaper and Kap let me know they were in no way going to be able to lend assistance, they were too far away and dealing with their own Mute problem.

  I did what any sane person would do in this situation. I started screaming as loud as I could. I hoped it sounded more like the battle cry I was shooting for and less of the high-pitched earsplitting shriek that assailed my own ears. The Mute to the right barely had time to acknowledge my desperation as I peppered him with high voltage rounds, or whatever the fuck the things are measured by. His armor was smoking around the hole I’d blown in his mid-section, taking out nearly a fist-sized piece of him. His partner yelled as well, his sounding so much more intimidating than mine. He changed his point of aim, bringing his rifle to bear on me.

  I was so stunned at the turn of events that I had not the foresight to get out of the way of the bolts that were progressively making their way to me. The Mute started reeling as 5.56 steel-jacketed rounds began to slam into it.

  “Almost even!” BT yelled as he held the trigger down to his rifle.

  Trac
y had cleared her jam and came out from the side of her hiding spot to put a well-placed round into the lower jaw of the Mute. My shot took off the top of his head, sending his scalp waffling to the wall some twenty feet to his rear. The beast dropped, his brain leaking on the floor with the lid now peeled off its container.

  “You okay?” I asked. She was, and I could see that. I just needed verbal confirmation.

  “I had a double feed and my expended brass got jammed in the ejection port.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “Fine, just got a little rattled there for a second. Thank you.” She smiled at me.

  “Not much brain for the size of the animal,” BT said as he came up next to us.

  “Perfect killing machine. Too stupid to give a shit.” I brought my weapon up and rested it on the half of the dresser that was still there and hadn’t been reduced to splinters or ash. We had one active Mute inside the store, and he soon found himself the object of five angry humans as we all did our best to send him off to “who gives a shit” with a whole heaping of “go fuck yourself.” Within thirty seconds there was just the five of us in near silence, inside anyway. There was one hell of a war going on outside.

  “You two okay?”

  Reaper gave me the thumbs-up. “What’s going on out there?”

  “The Genos are back,” BT answered.

  I was breathing heavy, and with the go-go juice supply now cut off, my arms felt like lead. The worry I’d felt for my wife’s safety slammed into my chest with all the power a severe panic attack can muster.