She had become a human torch. No, a human bonfire.
The flames reached twenty feet high and swept across the floor like a golden storm.
“Get out now!” she yelled back to the girl in black hiding behind the fermenter. The gunfire in the facility was slowing down as the security and Brad’s fighters realized the growing danger.
Furnace cast her right hand at some equipment, and cast a ball of flames through the air. It crashed into the barricade, sending one guard running though the facility with his back and right arm ablaze.
Another ball of fire smashed into the woman who had cast the net at Brad only moments earlier, and she was left as a smoking, crackling husk.
Kiranda moved across the floor slowly and purposefully, like a God.
The iron roof creaked and popped as it heated and windows exploded.
Nowhere was safe.
There was a familiar figure amongst the fray; a human Kiranda recognized.
It was the bald man in the suit.
Evan Boothe.
He was shielding his eyes with one hand and trying to aim a gun with the other. She concentrated on the weapon and it grew hot and then began to fall apart.
The man dropped the useless thing on the ground and stared at her furiously.
“Next time, Miss Till. I promise, you freaks are gonna pay. You won’t be getting any of the warm hospitality that we gave you this time round. I’ll put you down personally, like a stray dog!” he yelled and turned to run, but not before Kiranda’s fire ran a circle around him.
There was no escape.
He couldn’t jump over the flames, and they were too hot to get close.
“You are going to pay for what you did to Nadya and my friends!” Kiranda hissed, and as she uttered the words she rushed towards the bald man and embraced his screaming form.
Boothe writhed and squirmed trying to escape. His screams became chokes as the air was sucked from his lungs.
She held his body until there was nothing left to hold.
Her flames began to diminish as she saw that the facility was mostly empty.
Only two terrified men in black outfits were left.
She frowned a little as she saw a man in a smart blue suit coming toward her.
Cal had never been one for business suits and smart haircuts, but seeing him this way made her realize how brainwashed he really was.
“Cal? Don’t you remember anything?”
“You killed Mr Boothe! You killed my boss!” Cal yelled at her accusingly.
Kiranda’s flames began to grow again.
“No!” she screamed as Cal charged at her with his arms outstretched, his iron fingers ready to crush her head to a bloody pulp.
He had only just grabbed her when there was the boom of a high caliber handgun and his head was thrown sideways.
Kiranda stepped back and unleashed a storm of fire around her body, Cal was tossed through the air into the machinery, wailing.
He crawled out of the tangle of smashed machines still screaming. His body was mutilated. His hands were gone leaving two bony claws, and his face was a mess of blood and burned flesh. Most of Terrance Floyd was immolated, his clothes were smoking charred rags and his skin was melted and stretched. There was blood everywhere.
Several metres away Brad stood, supported by Cynthia. He was brandishing the Colt 45.
The wounded beast of a man ambled about glaring at them, then made a dash for the entrance and the cold night air leaving the three of them standing in the burning facility, the sad remnants of The League.
Brad’s people began moving around the facility collecting the equipment and dragging the injured to where they could be treated.
Kiranda’s flame dissipated leaving her naked and cold.
“I can’t believe that was Cal. He was our friend,” Cynthia said, helping Brad sit down.
“Hopefully the others caught him and put him down,” Brad said as he hissed in pain. “I don’t think I’ll be fighting for a little while.”
“Where’s Nadya?” Kiranda said looking at the two friends.
“She’s alive, don’t worry. She’s hooked up to some stuff and couldn’t move. We will need a hand to get her out.” Cynthia reassured her friend. “And we better get us some clothes.” She said looking at Kiranda’s soot streaked naked body and her own paper gown.
Brad mused as he looked out of the smashed roller doors into the night and the sparkling city lights. They had found Furnace, but they had also found the girl Nadya, the Seeker.
Then what is happening at the Lucas building?
He rubbed at his sore back.
They feared that the Seeker girl was being used as some kind of radar to locate all the Post-Humans. And according to the equipment in her cell that is exactly what they had been doing, but she was here. Meaning there was some other reason for all the radio transmitters and the many coma patients with their synthetic dreams.
Brad shook his head.
What is Athan getting himself into out there?
He suspected that Athan knew something about the Lucas and Associates company that he did not.
He hoped it wasn’t a trap.
Cynthia gave Brad a friendly slap on the knee.
“Good to have you back,” Brad sighed. “I fear we may be getting a little too old for this.”
Cynthia laughed. “It is good be together again.” She watched as Brad’s people ran around the warehouse carrying first aid kits and stretchers. “But I disagree about us being too old.”
Brad sat the gun on the warm scorched concrete floor beside him.
One of his people came in and offered Kiranda a blanket and she wrapped herself in it before ordering them to follow her to where her friend Nadya was being held.
As they disappeared into the warehouse Brad turned to face the city lights, that he could now see clearly through the open doors.
Another blanket was offered and Cynthia took it and sat down next to Brad.
“We are not getting too old. Why do you think that, Apollo?” She stared out with him.
“I have spent so much of my adult life trying to make the most of a gift that I was given. I have a woman that loves me and I have been living a safe and secret life.” He turned to her. “But I was building myself a tomb.”
Cynthia nodded her understanding.
“Tonight wasn’t just The League again, it was life. I wasn’t just the man in front of the screen.” He looked back out and wondered which tower was Lucas and Associates.
“All of us, Apollo. We have all been living in limbo.” Cynthia looked back over to where Kiranda had disappeared. “Except maybe our friendly glowstick back there.”
Brad chuckled.
Cynthia patted him on the back. “We were meant for this. We can’t suppress who we are. Wherever we go and what ever we do, we need to first be true to ourselves. We aren’t like the rest of them. They can deviate from which ever paths they choose. Post-Humans are the same, but with a built in compass that always tells us where the best direction is.” She smiled. “I think at least the two of us have been living a lie. It’s time for us to wake up and show the world our purpose.”
Brad had always enjoyed talks with Cynthia, she was a little older than himself and had a very sketchy past, but she had learned many harsh lessons along the way.
“Deadfall, would you care to join Athan and myself in potentially saving the world?”
Cynthia smiled a little and stared out at the sparkling lights.
“Why not. It’s what we were born for.”
Chapter 28
ATHAN CHARGED UP the carpeted stairs to the seventeenth floor with Dempsey and Steve close behind.
It was a beautiful and expensive looking open break area with a cafeteria and numerous leather lounge suites and glass coffee tables. At the back was a man in a suit, flanked by two guards. The guards had guns drawn and were ready to fire. “Split!” Dempsey hissed and ducked to the left behind a wooden divider. Athan and
Steve followed suit, and only just in time, bullets crashed through glass tabletops and thumped into lounges.
Athan crawled from the divider to the lounge on his right and the other two men found their own cover.
A voice from at the wooden staircase ahead told Athan that at least one of them was giving orders.
“Now, how’d you cheeky bastards get in here then?” The big guy called. “I got my boys crawling all over like ants and you still get by. What’s the deal with that? Are you Post-Humans, like the boss says? Or are ya just bloody clever?”
There was the familiar bang of gunfire as someone, probably Steve, broke cover and shot in the direction of the booming voice.
The fire was returned, and Athan listened to the bullets punching holes in the leather lounges, and taking chunks out of wooden dividers.
The thunder of footsteps came from the stairs behind them as the security guards from down stairs reached the top and drew their guns.
“You should probably give up. We have you surrounded.” The man called, sounding rather pleased with himself.
Athan dared to peek through to where the three men stood.
Suddenly his stomach was in his throat, the security guard on his side had lowered his weapon and was staring vacantly, and behind him stood a grey skinned figure with no face.
The Blind!
Dereck Lucas had succeeded, and now the creatures of the deeper plane were coming through.
The opaque grey being stood looking unmoved by the fire-fight taking place in front of it. Its lanky grey arm seemed to be inside the back of the security guard. It stood a good head taller than the guard and it must have been feeding on his emotions, like the secretary and Dan Dangerous had said.
Another one of the beings stalked down the stairs toward the three men and stopped, its head twitching as if it could smell something. Then it stalked across the room toward the place where Steve was hiding. Its movements were deliberate and graceful. It moved through the furniture as if it was made of air. Athan heard the dull thump of the pistol Steve had been carrying as it hit the polished wooden floor.
It was feeding on him.
Athan closed his eyes. Was he too late? Were the others going to destroy the receivers in time? It didn’t look as if they were going to win this one. Dereck Lucas had made his hole in the universe and now his monsters were feeding on the first people they could find.
“There!” one of the security guards pointed to where the sound of Steve’s gun had come from. They began to maneuver around to where Steve and the grey being were.
It occurred to Athan that these people couldn’t see The Blind, and that such a disadvantage could save him. There was a crack as the guard shot Steve, although he probably didn’t see the guards coming while the creature was feeding on him.
Athan peeked through at the group of guards near the creature, and was surprised to see how predictable The Blind were.
The creature immediately turned to the man who had shot Steve and thrust its invisible arm inside him.
The guard lowered his gun and looked serene.
So they do feed directly off heightened human emotion.
Dempsey lifted his silenced pistol and fired twice in the direction of the group of guards. One guard collapsed to the floor with a thump and another dropped to his knees with a red stain spreading across his shirt. The other guards raised guns and looked about frantically for the shooter.
One of the guards fired two shots in Athan’s direction, both of which came a little too close for comfort.
“The boss ain’t gonna like this ya know, all the running an hiding. It wastes time, and like they say, time is money.” The big man taunted as he fired into the back of one of the lounges. “You’re not goin anywhere, so ya may as well take it like men. Unless you’re not men, in which case, I apologise.” There was another gunshot, as the man shot another lounge. “Come on you pussies, come out an…nnnnngh.”
Athan thought it was a strange way to finish a threat, but as he peeked through the maze of lounges and dividers, he saw the big man holding his stomach, doubled over in pain.
The guard that was not being fed on was looking at him in shock. “Mr Shepherd? Are you alright sir?”
“Can’t breathe…” the big man said as his face began to look flushed.
Athan thought it must have had something to do with the grey beings that were feeding in the room, but they were patiently standing where Athan had seen them last.
The guards were distracted by Shepherds pain, and Dempsey saw the opportunity and took three shots at the five guards to his rear. One dropped straight to the floor while another took a shot in the arm and returned fire, hitting Dempsey somewhere in the torso, forcing him to drop into his hiding spot groaning.
There was a massive roar from the big man at the stairs.
“Come out! Come and get it!” Shepherd yelled.
He seemed like he had recovered.
“You come and get it, Fatso,” Athan called back, immediately regretting his comment.
“There you are…” Shepherd stomped across the hardwood floor.
What? That sounds…
Athan had to peek again at the big man, who was now far bigger. The muscle on Shepherd’s body bulged and glistened, his clothes hanging from his frame in tatters.
Shepherd was like a deranged monster.
He marched across the room, hyperventilating and throwing couches aside like they were scattered debris.
“I’m gonna crush you boy!”
Oh crap.
Athan stood up and looked the beast of a man in the eyes.
They were tiny underneath the engorged muscles of his face.
The guards stood stupefied, one even turned and ran back down the stairs.
Athan used the lounge as a spring board, running and jumping off it, launching himself at Shepherd. He thrust out his shock glove to give the creature a punch it wouldn’t forget, but he was swatted to the floor like an annoying fly.
Athan picked himself up and readied himself. “What are you?”
“What do you think?” Shepherd muttered through gritted teeth and dripping saliva.
“You don’t look like you are having any fun. How does your body recover from that?”
“It doesn’t. I only get one shot, so I’m gonna make it good.” It made an expression that Athan thought must have been some kind of smile, but he couldn’t tell through the bulging muscle in its face.
“Should we shoot him boss?” One of the guards said with a wavering voice.
“No! Damn it! It’s my turn!” The beast named Shepherd yelled.
The guard looked at his colleagues and stepped back.
“Ya know,” the creature said. “They called me Easy, them doctors that cut me up. I was Easy because anything they put inside, my body accepted. Every operation they gave me was easy, it was a ball. I was their lab rat, and I hated every second. Now I get to perform some surgery of my own.”
Athan stepped back as Shepherd took a step closer. “You could be fixed you know? I know people who can make you better…” Athan lied.
I’m not going to win against this thing.
“I am better, I am…” Shepherd buckled over again and grabbed the back of a lounge for support.
His muscles were growing bigger; some were beginning to sag to the floor. Athan suspected that this was not the surgeon’s intention. Soon ‘Easy’ wouldn’t be able to move.
Athan heard vomiting from behind him and saw another guard run down stairs, He was the only one left with the biggest threat in the room, the growing blob of muscle, which was now nearly three metres across, with no skin intact.
“Kill…kill…” The thing grumbled from somewhere in the rolls of meat and split skin.
“I’m leaving,” Athan heard Dempsey’s voice from not far away on the floor. He looked pale from the sight of the bloated thing, and he was holding a wound on his chest. The last bullet he had caught was close to his heart, but the flak ja
cket stopped it, leaving him out of breath and aching from something like a heart attack.
Athan had to deal with the thing himself.
He was the hero afteral.
“Run,” Athan said as he watched the thing growing even bigger.
A long tendril of tangled bloody muscle reached out towards where Dempsey was hobbling, like the tentacle of a giant octopus.
Athan punched it aside with his gloved hand, and it recoiled from the shock. Then the growth happened faster, like an immense pile of living spaghetti and meatballs. The sight was grotesque, but the smell was worse, like an abattoir combined with the smell of drain cleaner.
Dempsey disappeared down the stairs leaving only Athan, The Blind and the blob that was once a man named Shepherd.
He had to get past this thing to get to Dereck upstairs who was letting the demons in.
The kitchen bar was easy to jump over and Athan took a moment to climb over it and assess his options. He needed a backup plan, he was now alone and he needed a very real threat for Dereck’s plan.
Gas.
There was a gas bottle plugged into a small stove and deep fryer.
Deep fryer oil. Bingo.
He had a plan, he just needed to get it underway. A wet red tendril of muscle snaked its way over the bar seeking him out.
“Get off me!” Athan hissed as he tried to hit it aside.
Then he saw the lighter.
He grabbed the lighter and pulled his thumb down on the flint sparking it to life. Then he grabbed the menacing tentacle and held it over the flame. It crackled and hissed like bacon.
The creature wasn’t immune to fire then.
Athan opened one of the deep fryer’s oil taps and began to drain it into a plastic bucket he found under the sink. When it was half full, he tossed the smelly contents over the growing pile of meat that was dominating the room. He repeated the process till the oil ran too low to drain, and spread it on Shepherd’s squirming flesh. He used a tea towel dipped in this oil as a way to set the meat alight.
He sparked the lighter until the tea towel erupted into flame then tossed it into the oil-covered muscles of Shepherd.
The result was sickening.
The oil exploded into flames and the meat started to sizzle and squeal.
The Post-Humans (Book 1): The League Page 26
