Absolution: A Near Future Thriller (Forsaken Mercenary Book 2)

by Jonathan Yanez

  Two men stumbled out of swinging doors on my side of the street. They had to be four or five buildings ahead of me. Clearly, they were drunk.

  “You’re better off without her, Ted,” the man’s friend said as he helped him walk straight or maybe they were helping each other.

  The two men never saw me. They walked into the city, taking them in the opposite direction of where I stood. I took every opportunity to study them. They didn’t look like killers, but then again, what did a killer actually look like? They wore long pants and coats with hats with a broad brim that covered their eyes from the sun and did the same for the back of their necks.

  Blasters hung on their hips so loosely, it looked like they could would fall off at any moment.

  I continued my walk down the side of the street, admiring the buildings once more. Outside of Echo’s memories, these were some of the nicest structures I had ever seen. Sure, the moon had plenty of buildings. What the moon did not have was room. Massive skyscrapers rose from the ground of the moon so high, you’d think they’d touch the domes that kept our oxygen supply intact.

  These buildings were spread out, two stories at the tallest. I had to remind myself to stay focused. I was here to find Sam and that was it. I was here for answers about my past, not to find out why Cecile was so nice.

  I reached the swinging doors to the building, where the drunken men had stumbled from. Inside, someone played music. Shouts and jeers came from the patrons. I walked through the chest-high swinging doors with my hand close to my thigh. If anyone started anything, I was positive I could reach and draw my weapon first.

  No one even gave me a second look.

  The room was wide open with circular tables spread throughout. Four or five chairs at each table allowed the patrons to play games like dice, cards, and some other strategy game conducted by use of a holographic game board and colorful monsters.

  A stairwell wove its way upstairs on the right. A large musical box one of the men blew into was where the music came from on my left. At the end of the room was the bar. A portly man stood behind the bar, wiping it down with a rough white cloth.

  I made my way in that direction. Sure, I got a few looks from the men and woman in the room but nothing I’d deem unfriendly. They saw me as another traveler and then went about their business.

  I made my way to the bar, realizing not only did I not have any currency, I was actually hungry again. I chided myself for the lack of preparation I had done for this trip.

  “What can I do for you, stranger?” the barkeep asked, coming over to me with a lopsided grin. He admired my lightweight armor. “Very nicely dressed. Phoenix gear, I’d wager?”

  “Something like that,” I said warily. “I came here looking for a friend of mine. I was wondering if you might be able to point me in the right direction.”

  “Sure, sure, Cecile is small enough,” the bartender said, placing his white cleaning towel over his left shoulder. His double chin jiggled as he did so. “So who can we help you find?”

  “She might be going by something different now, but her name’s Samantha or Sam for short,” I said. “She’s tall with dark red hair and knows how to handle herself in a fight. I’m guessing she would have shown up around these parts about five years ago.”

  It was like I dropped a freaking nuclear bomb in the room. Everyone went silent. Even the guy playing the box of music he blew into stopped to look at me.

  I’d been uncomfortable before, but this was something different. There had to be twenty to thirty people in the room at this point. Not one of them looked anywhere but at me. A few of them rose from their seats.

  “Oh boy,” X said in my head. “You’ve done it now.”

  I nodded slowly, starting to understand why the city was so wide open. One didn’t really need guards if every member inside the city was a soldier themselves. I heard a blaster being charged up behind me. The dull whine was unmistakable.

  I turned back to look at the bartender. He had reached under the bar and pulled out a rifle nearly as big as he was. He aimed it at my chest now.

  “And what kind of business would you be having with her?” the bartender asked. His finger rested on the trigger already. One wrong word and he was going to let me have it at point-blank range. I’d heal from it, I was sure of that, but it wasn’t going to feel nice.

  “I’m a friend,” I said loud enough for all to hear. “I’m not here for a fight. I’m just here to see an old friend.”

  “Your shoulder,” the bartender said, motioning with his weapon to my left shoulder. “Let’s see it.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Take off that armor and let’s see your shoulder,” the bartender repeated. “If you don’t have it, we won’t have a problem. If you do—well then, it’s not going to go so well for you, friend.”

  I knew exactly what he wanted to see. The wolf tattoo that set me apart as a member of the Pack Protocol. Immortal Corp had given it to the seven members of the initiative. It was the only tattoo on my body I understood. The rest of the ink that covered me was still a mystery.

  “I’ve killed a lot in my past,” I said, placing both hands on the bar in front of me. “I’ve even done some killing lately. I have no desire to kill you or anyone in this room now. You should let me go.”

  “No can do.” The bartender shook his head from side to side. “We have standing orders. I’m going to have to see that shoulder.”

  The room quieted. I could feel the primal rage, the hungry, almost excited beast that lived inside of me pulling at the leash. The animal within was ready.

  “Well, I’m not going to do that,” I said, staring down the barrel of his long rifle. “So where does that leave us now?”

  “If you won’t show me the shoulder, then I’m going to have to take that as you do have a wolf tattoo there.” The bartender licked his fat, greasy lips. “And if that’s the case, we’ll put you down and chain you. Those were her orders.”

  I played the events about to transpire over in my mind. I saw myself in my mind’s eye disarm the bartender, leap over the counter, and open fire on the crowded room.

  “Before we do this,” I asked over my shoulder. “Does anyone want to leave?”

  No answer. The still in the room was so heavy, it fell on our shoulders like a real weight.

  I swatted the bartender’s rifle out of the way a second before it went off. I vaulted over the counter as the first blaster rounds scorched the bar around me. The massive shelf full of alcohol bottles behind the bar erupted in a shower of glass and liquid as rounds missed me and detonated.

  I fell to relative safety on the other side of the bar on top of the bartender. He looked at me with an open mouth, trying to free his rifle.

  I slammed my right fist into his jaw, sending him into unconsciousness as I relieved him of his rifle and drew the MK II from its holster. I pressed my thumb into the section of the weapon that called for explosive rounds. The drum at the base of the weapon rumbled and obeyed, sending the explosive rounds to the forefront of the charge pack.

  I sat there with my back against the inside of the bar as rounds struck my hiding spot. All around, they discharged on the wood of the bar and the glass shelving above. Glass and liquor rained down on my head like some kind of confetti.

  “Did every single one of them have a weapon?” X asked inside my head. “Holy bananas.”

  “Holy bananas is right,” I said as those firing the rounds took a break.

  More than hundred rounds had to have been fired from the time I leapt over the bar and took cover. My hair was drenched in horrible smelling liquid, as were my armor and weapons. That pissed me off.

  “You think you can call out targets for me that have the highest powered weapons?” I asked. “Anyone with a heavy repeater or scatter gun should go first.”

  “I’ll call out the shots,” X said. “But if you’re here to try and talk to Sam and not fight, it might be best to minimize the body count. If you can.”<
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  “They’re trying to kill us,” I reminded X.

  “Right, because they think you’re going to kill Sam,” X reminded me. “Just a thought.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. I’m not much for a countdown,” I told her. “Ready?”

  “Let’s do it,” X answered.

  X was amazing. More than amazing, she was laser-fast in picking my targets.

  I rose from behind the bar, already running sideways to my left. I held my MK II in my right hand with the explosive rounds and the heavy rifle in my left. As soon as I was up, I noticed two things. Everyone in the room did in fact have some kind of weapon and they were pointing it at me.

  For the second time, the room erupted in a hail of weapons fire.

  Using my own vision, X laced my targets one by one with a red diamond on their person. First she marked a big guy by the door holding a pair of heavy repeaters.

  Instead of aiming at his body, I planted an explosive round at his feet. It shouldn’t kill him but was guaranteed to take him out of the fight.

  When I took him out, she targeted a woman close by with a wide-barreled rifle, and so on and on we went.

  Even though I kept moving and the explosive rounds were taking out numerous targets at once without killing them, there was no escaping the maelstrom of fire. I was a magnet for the stuff and it was bound to happen.

  A round hit me in the chest. The light Phoenix armor I wore was enough to turn the blow. Another hit me in my shoulder. That one hurt. Fiery pain exploded across my body.

  The whole time, I was running sideways behind the bar. My lane was about to be cut short. The bar ended in a chest-high wall.

  I turned the MK II, blasting a smoking hole in the wall, and kept going. I didn’t really have a plan besides attack.

  I went after them head on, rushing into the weapons fire. A feeling of animalistic rage filled my heart. It was terrifying and comfortable all at once. Another round hit me in the leg, causing me to stumble. I rolled across the floor, keeping my feet under me, and popped up at a run again.

  Another round hit the rifle I held, ripping it from my hand. Another tear of agony tore through my left palm.

  It was all over for them now. I was among them. Their superior numbers meant nothing. It was hand-to-hand combat, and unless they wanted to chance hitting one of their own, their superior fire power meant nothing.

  I moved like water, fluid, from one assailant to the next. A strike to the throat led to me placing a pair of rounds into the legs of two more targets, led to ducking a blow from a fourth and planting the crown of my head squarely into his nose, sending him to the floor.

  I did what I was created to do and I loved it. There was a part of me lost in the rage of war that was terrified. Somewhere, I knew in the back of my mind, I shouldn’t enjoy or relish the adrenaline pumping through my veins or the fact that my vision turned a hint of red when I fought.

  Once I ate through half of their number, they started to panic. Some fled screaming for help while others too frightened to do anything else but discharge their weapon fired on their own.

  That was what I anticipated. I moved quickly from target to target. Those who chose to attack me I dealt with quickly and efficiently. Those who still chose to fire their weapon only landed rounds into members on their own side. I used each individual I battled as a shield as much as a punching bag.

  I almost felt sorry for them, almost.

  When the last enemy fell, I was alone in the room. My MK II smoked, sending white tendrils to the ceiling. My chest heaved as I looked around at the chaos around me.

  You didn’t have a choice, I told the part of my mind that said I could have saved some of them. Although I hadn’t been the one directly responsible for killing any of them, enough bodies lay bent and broken around me to know long recovery times lay in store for most of them. You did what you had to do. They were going to kill you or at least try.

  I didn’t see the arrow that impaled itself in the left side of my neck, but I sure felt it.

  A sour tang filled my throat as I fell to my knees. Suddenly, my legs were no longer able to support my weight. I pulled the arrow free, looking at the tip. The end was fitted with some kind of small syringe.

  My arms fell at the same time my face hit the floor.

  X was yelling something in my head, but I was past understanding any words.

  The last thing I saw was a pair of boots walking toward me. One of them lifted and came down like a hammer on my face.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I woke with that same sour tang in the back of my throat. I turned my head to the side, trying to spit the taste out. Memories from some delusional dream I had caressed my mind. Despite the causes of the onset of the dream, the dream itself had been comforting.

  Something about Amber, the way she kissed me. She told me it was all right, talked to me about a dream that put all other dreams to shame.

  That was all gone now as I took in my surroundings. I was chained. Manacles cut into my wrists. Thick chains connected the cuffs to the ceiling. I fought the pounding in my head as I moved to a standing position, taking the weight off my wrists. My armor was gone, as were my weapons. My wounds had already healed.

  “X?” I croaked. “X, you there?”

  “I am,” X said. “How’s the head?”

  “Feels like it got crushed with a two by four,” I said, looking around the small room. It was nothing to write home about. Stone walls with a single door fastened shut. A small window with four bars sat behind me high up in the uppermost section of a ten-foot wall.

  “I see through your eyes and they were closed once you were knocked out, but I did have my external speakers active,” X explained. “We were moved to a building not far away from the bar where we were ambushed. I heard a woman doling out orders to search then chain you. She instructed them to take you here until she gave further orders. She also stationed a dozen guards outside the door with orders to shoot if you came out.”

  “A dozen?” I asked. “You think—you think it’s Sam? It has to be, right?”

  “It’s possible, at least all roads lead in that direction,” X said. “With the order she gave the bartender and everyone in the bar, it seems she’s been expecting a visit from someone from the Pack.”

  I remembered the bartender and his insistence on seeing my tattoo. X was right. Sam had anticipated Immortal Corp coming after her. She figured they’d send one of her own after her just like they did to Amber.

  Except she got it wrong. I had no desire to harm her. I just wanted answers. Maybe even to thank her for not going along with Echo. Was that how I really felt? She didn’t kill Amber, but she didn’t try to stop Echo either.

  “Hey, you still with me?” X asked, concerned.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” I said before I could get further lost in my own head. “Any idea on how to get out of here?”

  I gave the inside of my cell a closer look. No furniture, the only light that came into the room was light from the moon and stars. The illumination came just outside my cell through the barred window.

  The room stank of stale water. If I listened hard, I could hear a constant drip coming from one of the ends of the room.

  “Let’s take a closer look,” X said, activating my night vision.

  I searched the room through golden vision. It didn’t tell me much. The farthest corners of the room cloaked in shadow were the same as the ones I could see to my right and left. They were made of thick grey stone. No way in, no way out.

  A small puddle of water gathered at the left side of the cell. The door to the cell was a steel plate reinforced with rivets. A sliding square window to see in and out of was closed at the moment.

  “We have to get out of these chains first, or at least detach them from the ceiling,” X pointed out. “Let me take a closer look at the chain and the anchor holding them into the ceiling.”

  I complied, moving my eyes over the links of the chain slowly before exami
ning the iron anchor attaching them to the ceiling. There were four heavy screws holding each of the chains in place.

  “Our best chance at the moment will be—”

  X didn’t get to finish her sentence. A heavy bolt on the other end of the cell moved free. The door swung open a second later to reveal a tall woman with red hair.

  Sam entered the room. She wore brown boots and pants with a white shirt. Her red hair fell freely down her back. A knife sat snug against her left hip. She was more muscular than I saw in Echo’s dream. She hadn’t lightened up on her training in the slightest. If anything, she was even more athletic than before, like she was training for something or someone.

  The door to the cell closed behind her with a hard bang. The steel lock was set in place once more.

  “I knew they would send someone sooner or later. With their resources, they can find almost anyone given enough time,” Sam said, crossing her arms. She stood a safe distance away from me. “I just didn’t think it would be you. Not after what they did to Amber. Echo or Preacher maybe, but not you.”

  “This isn’t what you think,” I said, shaking my head. I spat the sour taste out of my mouth again. “I’m not here to kill you. Immortal Corp didn’t send me. What did you inject me with anyway? It tastes like rancid sugar.”

  “A neurotoxin that would keep you unconscious until your body healed itself enough to fight off the effects,” Sam said raising an eyebrow at me. “You killed people in that bar, and I have two dozen wounded. And I’m supposed to believe you when you say you didn’t come here to kill me? That’s exactly what I would say if I were in your position.”

  “They didn’t give me a chance. Anyone who died was killed by rogue fire from your own side,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t want to fight, but the orders you gave them didn’t leave a whole lot of options. I’m not here for you, Sam. I don’t know how you’re going to believe me, but you have to trust me on this. I’m here to talk to you about Amber, about why she died, about taking down Immortal Corp.”