The Second Rising

by Kevin Douglas

  In shock, the guards swallowed deeply at the unlikely visitor and holstered their weapons as one of them ran to the shack and pushed the button to allow them through. Stratus laid down a thick layer of rubber as an enormous cloud engulfed the road and the guard shack.

  Matthew quickly directed Stratus to the building where Baxter would be. The closest parking was a few hundred yards from the building, and Stratus tore down the aisle closest to the destination. Letting his vision wander for a small spilt second, he looked for other signs of trouble and spotted them quickly. Just entering the lot were two small rodents sprinting in their direction.

  “They’re here, but we’ll beat them. Just hold on!”

  As the parking lot ended, it turned into a sidewalk that led to the base buildings spread throughout the grounds. Stratus aimed his car at the gradually sloped sidewalk entry ramp, bouncing off the black top and onto the walk with a jolt. The walkway was now a road.

  “No fucking turning back now,” Matthew blurted out with an excited adrenaline rush, mixed with carelessness and a tinge of worry. This was the point of no return, he would be labeled a crackpot or a hero after this meeting. Stratus didn’t let up off the accelerator as the paneled sidewalk gave off a fast clipity clop sound, lightly vibrating the seats.

  “Building five, right here, right here, right here!” shouted Matthew as Stratus down shifted, turned, braked hard and came to a gut-wrenching stop, plowing through several feet of grass before the car halted. They both hopped out quickly and sprinted to the building.

  “Showtime Davis! Let’s hope you’re right about the boss being on your side. Let’s hope you’re right about everything,” said Stratus.

  As they entered the building Stratus looked at the small followers who were now sitting atop his vehicle, watching them intently. The truck that had followed them was nearing the checkpoint now. He closed the door and ran with Matthew down the empty halls. Not a soul was in sight, but there were several cars in the parking lot, so it couldn’t be totally lifeless. Several hallways down, men crossed the opening, first Victor Renique, then Henry Whittaker, followed by three other men Matthew recognized as the other returned AWOL guardsmen.

  Bringing up the rear was Staff Sergeant Baxter. As they neared they called out to him, but he disappeared down the hallway presumably into his corner office. Baxter must be bringing the men in for questioning. This was good news. If they were here this late, it meant Baxter believed it urgent and saw the need to keep their visibility low.

  “This is good. He’s going to question them.” said Matthew.

  Stratus shot him a skeptical look. “I’m pessimistic when it comes to trust in the order of things. Regardless of where I am now my cause for alarm is high. I trust no one, even the man running beside me.”

  Stratus pulled out both pistols, as they rounded the corner they saw all five guardsmen several yards away, all lined up along the wall at attention, posture erect, and Staff Sergeant Baxter at his doorway.

  “At ease soldiers. Ah, Mr. Davis, I thought that was you, come in. And a guest, huh? How nice. Any friend of Matthew’s is a friend of mine. You can come in too, Mr...?”

  “With all respect the name’s not important. Let’s hear what you have to say first.”

  “A conversationalist. Gees you sure brought a cold one Matthew.”

  “He is a bit… deliberate. Staff Sergeant Baxter---?

  “Please. Call me Joe.”

  “Right, anyway, Joe did you question the men? Did you find what I spoke to you about? Was their performance off?

  “Was their performance off? Hell no! Matthew their performance was amazing, best I’ve ever seen.”

  “Exactly, so you were able to correlate the change in their behavior with their disappearance to their performance and personality logs?”

  “Yes and no. Sure, they’ve changed, but doesn’t every soldier strive to better himself? That only proves you’re a good leader Matthew. You’ve made them better men. Right?”

  “No, it doesn’t. Those logs were from a week before their disappearance. You know as well as anyone that these men were at the top of their game, but their habits and traits weren’t going to change. I take pride in the best squad out there, even take a little credit, but this isn’t within norms. I’ve done some checking with their families Joe. Something’s not right.”

  Matthew went to hand Baxter a small notebook in which he had been documenting things, but the Staff Sergeant turned, went behind his desk, and sat down.

  “Are you going to be held down and tongue-tied just like the men above you? Am I making too much sense here?” said Matthew, irritated. He threw the notebook down onto Baxter’s desk, sliding the once organized papers all over.

  “Matthew, Matthew, you have to understand their chain of command. They told me to put a lid on your nonsense. What am I supposed to do with your notes? They will only be the rantings of a mad man, one that disgraced the guard by pulling out a gun on innocent women and threating to kill himself.”

  “Fuck you sir!” blurted Matthew, heated at Baxter’s sudden disbelief of the events from a few nights ago.

  “You’re really going to talk to me like that? And who’s the prick in the suit you’ve brought in here. Is he what’s given you all this muster? Am I to be scared of this…nameless man?”

  Until now, Stratus had been quiet, a rare feat for him. He had been observing the room, the family pictures on the man’s desk and the Staff Sergeant himself.

  Stratus finally spoke. “Shows over Matthew, he’s of no help to us. Let’s be on our way. As you know, we are out of time.”

  “Yes, you are indeed out of time; you two aren’t going anywhere. I can’t have you complicating things any further.”

  Baxter lifted his hand, beginning to speak into a mic to call for help but froze mid-sentence as Stratus drew both pistols and trained them on the man.

  “Don’t move, and don’t speak!” said Stratus calmly but assertively.

  Confused, Matthew looked over and responded to Stratus’s threats to his superior.

  “Stratus, what the hell are you doing? That’s enough! We’re not adding murder to our list. Put the weapon down!” said Matthew, confused about his threats to his superior.

  “Aww, Special Agent Stratus Lattamus of the Pentagon’s ghost squad. Welcome. I’m so sorry this will be the end of the road for you both.”

  Baxter called into the mic for his men once again when Stratus opened fire, hitting the seatback surrounding the man with stunning accuracy, one near each temple.

  “I said to shut your mouth! I’ll allow you to answer one question and one question only. How do you know of ghost squad? You’re no one! You’re nobody!”

  Before Staff Sergeant Baxter could answer, Matthew saw a driblet of blood pouring down the man’s right bicep, one bullet had strayed and hit his right shoulder.

  Both men froze in surprise for a moment, but the blood was the wrong shade, tinted a light orange…Mrs. Sullivan had gotten to Staff Sergeant Baxter before they could. Stratus opened fire as Baxter’s replacement realized he’d been made. He rolled out of his chair behind the desk before Stratus’s shots found their mark.

  A ruckus brewed outside the door, followed by calls from the other phony guardsmen and pounding on the door.

  “Staff Sergeant Baxter confirm the kills please… confirm now or we’re coming in!”

  Stratus fired again emptying his clip and prevented Baxter from alarming his men. Stratus had hit Baxter’s wrist communicator, which delayed him only a moment. He could still yell after the bullets stopped, but it was all they needed.

  Matthew had drawn his weapon and was gung-ho, ready to fight, until Stratus yelled to him.

  “Let’s go soldier, out the window!”

  Matthew re-aimed and shot out the window. They both bailed out onto the grass outside as the sirens blared on the base.

  Lock down, base lock down, checkpoint has been breached. Checkpoint is breached. Arms ready, arms r
eady, this is not a drill...

  Wailing sirens and flashing lights on base sent it into a frenzy. Time was on their side for the moment. It would take the small squad time to locate anyone, and they’d be focused on the breach.

  “Great, we’re done. Shit! They’ve closed everything down now.”

  Stratus looked around for anything that could fix their situation. He saw a nearby Humvee and concocted a scheme.

  “I’ve got it. Take off your clothes. Quickly now.”

  “What! This is your plan? Tell me how this helps.”

  Before Matthew got an answer, Stratus had shredded his suit and was standing in his boxers and undershirt.

  “Get on with it already Matthew. I’m going to be you and your going to be me. It’s not a perfect plan, but it will allow me to get out of here and speak to my superiors. It’s the last hope for us.”

  Matthew stripped, and they donned each other’s clothing.

  “All right, so what’s the plan, and what happens to me in all of this?”

  “Well it involves me, you, and speed. I’ll use my credentials and uniform to exit the base in the Humvee, stating I’m to stand guard outside the gate. You’ll have to follow behind and time this thing precisely; when I exit, you will too. Then dart off as fast as you can. You’ll outpace the base’s pursuit, they’re concerned only with people entering, but the vehicle that followed us here is bad news. Fox One is his name, and he will pursue and eventually catch you, thinking you’re me.”

  “To hell with that! I don’t even know who he is or what side he’s on. He’ll just kill me. And what the hell am I supposed to be driving exactly?”

  “Relax, relax, he won’t harm you. On the contrary, he’ll be delighted for you to tell him information. Tell him everything about what you know, the events, and any details. My advice? Don’t lie and don’t leave out anything, even things about me. I’ll have cover from the Pentagon and support from my commander.”

  “So you say, if you get me killed my wife’s going to come after you. You still haven’t told me what I’m driving in this suicide mission.”

  “Oh yes, that’s the best part. At least you’ll be doing it in style.”

  Stratus tossed him the keys to his Porsche and shot him a smile.

  “I would tell you to take it easy, but you’ll have a trained killer on your tail, so go nuts. Keep it in one piece damn it. Oh and whatever you do don’t shoot any squirrels or cats along your travels.”

  “Squirrels or cats?”

  Matthew watched Stratus make his way to the Humvee, he followed, cautiously jogging toward the Porsche still parked halfway into the grass. Matthew glanced at Fox One’s truck as it made its way across the parking lot in his direction.

  Matthew steadied himself, took a deep breath, drew his weapon, and kept running to the Porsche. Two squirrels jumped off the Porsche and raced in his direction. These must be the ones Stratus warned me of.

  “Damn!” He said to himself as he holstered his pistol and prepared to engage the squirrels.

  He had a plan, and he was about to see if it worked. He unbuttoned the suit coat and headed fearlessly straight at them. They both jumped in the air toward his upper body, each one contacting a shoulder. He simultaneously slipped the coat off sending the squirrels flying behind him, which gave him just enough time to enter the vehicle.

  Matthew pulled out into the grass, whipping around in a three hundred and sixty degree turn. Now for the hard part, dodge the bad truck, and follow Stratus in the Humvee. The killer’s truck was barreling down on the side walk, and Matthew knew he had to get to the asphalt if he were to stand a chance. He redlined the Porsche rapidly slamming the car from fourth to fifth, then top gear, the engine screaming through each gear and winding up to reach full speed.

  Matthew knew he was going to make it but only if he didn’t let up on the throttle. The killer knew this as well. The only chance of his containing him to the base was to keep Matthew off the asphalt. Matthew topped one hundred and fifty mph when the Porsche launched off the side walk and onto the asphalt. The undercarriage scraped from the impact sent a bright streak of sparks flinging behind the vehicle.

  He had missed Fox One’s vehicle but was now out of position and traveling way too fast to get in line and come behind the Humvee.

  Matthew braked hard and down shifted while simultaneously pulling the e-brake. Jerking the wheel, Matthew felt the car skid, sending plumes of smoke from the tires, and drifted till the tires finally bit into the asphalt and jerked the car sharply into position, ninety degrees from his previous heading.

  “Wooo!” Shit, I change my mind! I’ve got to get me one of these! He was about one hundred yards from the Humvee that had stopped at the gate, and the bar was already slowly raising. He wasted no time and stomped on the gas. He had no choice to slow or wait. Fox One’s truck had changed direction and was in close pursuit. He watched the accelerometer climb as the Humvee pulled through the gate. He was closing so rapidly on the truck that it was too much to watch.

  It was going to be a close call. He closed his eyes as the gate had begun to close. He needled his current gear and opened his eyes a second later to see the car passing just under the gate, screaming past Straus and the Humvee. Fox One didn’t slow and slammed into the gate, tearing it off its hinges. The Phantom’s truck accelerated in pursuit. It too, was made for speed and closed the gap on the Porsche until they both disappeared from sight.

  . . . .

  Now free and clear, Stratus put the Humvee in gear and called to the guards.

  “I’m in pursuit men, the gates all yours.”

  Stratus knew where he had to go. He headed to the interstate. His only recourse was to speak with his boss, the president, and fast. He feared he may already be too late.

  CHAPTER 26

  T he pitch black tight space was consumed by darkness, all save for a dim glow from within the mechanical creature. He no longer needed to worry about visually giving away his position, he didn’t need to remain in complete shutdown between transmissions. For now, Chimera’s body sat with its knees folded into his chest, his systems in suspension with the exception of motion detection and incoming transmissions.

  Chimera had weighed the risks of going dark during the state of alert that Mr. Sullivan had issued nearly twenty-four hours ago. Roll call for all BOTS on site had been issued, just as he had predicted. He had contemplated showing up for the counts, hoping Mr. Sullivan would overlook his distinct visual differences and increased functionality.

  He knew better, to think Mr. Sullivan would overlook him was an act of ignorance. Mr. Sullivan was not one to overlook anything, nor was he stupid. Showing himself would be suicide. Because he hadn’t shown up despite Mr. Sullivan’s mandatory roll call, his drops off the grid were being recorded as anomalies. Soon they would be coming for him. He wasn’t programmed to show cowardice or fear, it mattered little to Chimera if they were to come for him. All that mattered was Gretchen’s safety.

  After their initial meeting Chimera had remained out of sight for the most part, undetected more than anything. He still woke up his systems regularly to check on her, hiding in the vent until things were clear, then giving her a light trill to let her know he was still watching.

  He hated to see her captive, and every minute that she remained so her demeanor and hope of freedom diminished. He could see it in her face when she looked at him. Despite his affection for her, he would never replace her father. Chimera thought about telling her on several occasions what was at stake here, what her captivity meant, and the dark demented dreams of others like himself.

  He hated to admit he was one of them. While he couldn’t change what he was, he knew he didn’t share their hopes and wishes for humankind. He hadn’t been created with their purpose and he couldn’t imagine the world the way his robot kind sought to make of it.

  Gretchen had taken to him like the dearest of pets, conversing with him through the vent or when the opportunity allowed, sitting by
her side. She studied his physical makeup and ran her hands down his metallic surfaces, fascinated with the ingenuity that went behind him, knowing it had been her father behind most of it.

  The world in which she woke up yesterday was much simpler, but today was magical in a strange way, filled with endless exciting possibilities regardless of the threat they could pose. Just like her father, she remained amazed, not terrified, in the face of innovation.

  Chimera knew their fate was soon to be decided, his connection with the home gave him direct information to the inner workings and transmissions. He knew roll call had been conducted and now the unaccounted BOTS were to be either found and reprogrammed or destroyed. In his case hunted.

  His blips of activity within the system were unavoidable, he needed to know information, and in the digital realm it was a two-way street.

  They had no control over him, but the mansion’s system was tagging his location. He knew they only documented system access, as BOT’s daily habits and patterns were too demanding on computer function. Mr. Sullivan ceased to care where they roamed, as long as it wasn’t too far.

  He controlled them all, except Chimera, and the list of unaccounted BOTS was short, to be exact five. Two had been destroyed during his entry into the home and they would soon find the remaining bots from their last known coordinates on the rooftop, pointing them closer to his location.

  Marty’s last transmission seemed dire, a decision must be made and it would be made for him if he waited much longer. He’d give Marty a few hours. The clock was ticking and Mr. Sullivan had put out a final call for all remaining bots to break any current protocol and return. That transmission was followed by a threating message being sent, directed at him.

  BOT 301, you have not responded. You are off task, off grid for your duties, your clearance level inside this home is a mystery, and your physical characteristics are undocumented. I know you aren’t one of my creations and therefore, you must be hers. I give you one last chance to login and remain active so I can acquire you. I am your master, not her. If you don’t respond or login, I will know your intentions. I will hunt you down, find you, and destroy you. Whatever task she has for you is over. You will not leave alive. If I cannot locate you, I will simply initialize a destruction sequence to all BOTS on the property. I will destroy all my creations, including you, just to prevent you from leaving. You have one hour to comply.