Dark Divide (Shadow and Shine Book 2)
Page 35
He thinks you are going to hurt him. You seriously have a General afraid.
“Um, okay? I don’t know Se—”
Gunshots interrupted her. Someone was firing just outside. Conrad finished untying her and rushed to the door. He pulled his gun out and looked in the hall. “Your friend spared my life, he said he was coming to save you and the others. I’ll help you get to him.”
“Mickey?”
“No. President Watt is with him. Someone broke into the facility. White guy, blonde hair, early thirties or late twenties, one blue eye, one black eye, with black lines along his face.”
No way.
*******
Asher
Late Afternoon
Union Matis
Six soldiers stood between Asher and the blue door.
It didn’t matter if they knew the crimes they were committing; they were guilty by association. No death has been labored by him until this point, but these six men were standing between Asher and his judgment. He was the judge, jury, and executioner of Marshall and Nino. Both men were hiding on the other side of the blue door with six armed soldiers to protect them.
His anger seethed as he crouched around the bullet-riddled corner. He contemplated bringing out his new sword, the sickle he was going to use to cut Marshall in half, but he wanted to extend the chance to survive to the ignorant soldiers ahead. Their failed attempts to shoot through the thin wall were attempts to follow orders, but Asher was no longer going to be patient. They either listened or died.
“I’m here for Marshall!" Asher yelled. He wanted the monster on the other side of the door to hear him. Asher wanted him to be prepared. He heard his heartbeat skip. It was disappointing to see the fearless leader was having a nervous breakdown at Asher’s presence.
The door opened and out walked Nino, waving and smiling like the cat who caught the canary. His heartbeat betrayed his acting, Asher scared him, too. “You’re back!”
It was the exact same thing Ben said to him on Capitol Hill, just before Asher killed him.
“Boys, we’ve got ourselves a squealer, make the little piggy bleed."
Asher answered, “You're all free to go. I am not here for you. Drop your weapons now and I will not harm you.”
"Hear that boys? That’s quite the offer. Sounds like—”
"All of you but him," Asher interrupted. “He dies."
One soldier, who was standing in the front, made a clicking noise in his throat. Asher could smell the sweat on his hands against the gun. The subtle adjustments in their stances brought a small breeze around the corner to him. Some wanted to take Asher up on his offer, others stood loyal. It was no longer about loyalty and honor. It was about justice.
“Men. I’m going to count down from five. After that, I’ll remove my offer. I don’t want to kill you,” Asher unsheathed his sword. The long, curved blade shined against the light overhead. He looked up to the light bulb and smiled, hopefully Mickey was learning his way.,“I’m not your enemy. I’m his. And hey, Nino, I count six men. That’ll be six wounds before I kill you.”
“Can you dodge bullets, sunshine?” Nino laughed. His arrogant humor made him sound desperate. The others weren’t fooled by it either, yet none of them moved.
“Five,” he said, twisting the sickle sword in his wrist. “Four,” he brought the blade into the view of the soldiers, letting them know he was no longer fighting with his bare hands. These men would undoubtedly know Asher was prepared to kill them. This weapon was nearly as intimidating as Ben’s hammer. “Three,” the sound of a soldier’s muscles flexing in his bicep and right index finger.
Pop pop pop.
Three rapid gunshots. One man was starting the party early.
Pop pop pop pop pop.
Others followed. Asher crouched down and moved away from being close to the corner. They were doing their best, but he was safe.
“Hold your fire,” Nino shouted. The shooting stopped and Asher raised his weapon back into their view. He wanted them, especially Nino, to know he was still standing and waiting to finish his countdown. Nino continued, “My turn to make demands, sunshine. You step out now. The firing squad’ll finish their job and I’ll promise not to kill your little girl. But if you make us work for it, I’ll put my blade down her throat and see if she can cry poison, too.”
“Two,” Asher answered. He closed his eyes and sighed with relief; if Nino was threatening to kill Mona, that meant she was still alive. He might not be able to hear her heartbeat, but it was beating nonetheless. “One.”
No one took him on his offer. None understood their ramifications. The deep part of Asher, the one where Ben’s death scarred over, relished in the opportunity for revenge.
He turned the corner and stood before the seven men; six soldiers and Nino.
The front-left soldier pulled the trigger first. Despite his fear, his aim was perfect. Asher watched the bullet cut through the air as the low vibrations closed in on his face. The Pulse would keep him alive, there was no weapon stronger than the one inside him.
Asher turned his head and watched the bullet spin by his cheek.
Clenched muscles. Trigger-fingers adjusted. Pressure rose in the air.
There was less than twenty feet between him and the door.
He sprinted towards them. He was one target, with seven guns pointed at a single isolated location. They wanted the kill shot to his chest. Each aimed at his heart as bullets began firing with rapid succession.
He zig-zagged through the hall, dodging each bullet as if it were a slow moving pebble floating through the air. When the bullets were high, he was low. When they were low, he jumped. Until he could no longer remain using the floor with various guns shooting at the impossible target.
Asher planted his foot against the ground and sprinted up the wall. His strength was immaculate as he dashed from wall to ceiling, to wall, to floor, and closed in on his enemies. The soldier’s heads moved in circles as well. Except for Nino, who dropped his gun and raised his knife. Asher smelled the poison through the burning of the firing chambers.
He landed on the ground in front of them. Their rifles clicked empty. He had time before they reached for their sidearm.. He jumped in the air and punched the front soldier in the face. The force knocked him into three men behind him. Asher used his momentum to run halfway up the left wall and jump off, bringing his sword down through a soldier’s shoulder and stopping it midway through his hip.
Asher reached down and removed the knife hidden at the filleted soldier’s ankle.
In one fluid motion, Asher stabbed the knife into Nino’s wrist and pulled his poisonous blade from his hand. He drove Nino’s knife into the blue door beside his head and ducked down.
The lone unaffected soldier shot his pistol where Asher’s head used to be.
Asher removed his sword from the dead body and brought it up into the shooting soldier’s crotch and out through his shoulder. He pulled the knife from his ankle before his body split and hit the floor.
Four men pushed against one another and struggled to their feet. The sound of Nino pulling the knife from his wrist flowed into his ears as Asher turned around to stab another knife into Nino’s right leg.
He slid on his knees towards the group of four. The person in the back was turning his pistol towards Asher as he jumped to his feet, jammed the tip of his sword into the wall, and twisted a different soldier’s neck in a complete circle.
With the pistol pointed at him, Asher grabbed the soldier’s hand and aimed it towards Nino as he pulled the trigger. He didn’t look back to see where it landed, but enjoying hearing the instant cry of pain.
The next shot blew out the back of the head of the soldier holding the gun. He turned back, pulled his sword free from the wall and slashed horizontally decapitating the two remaining soldiers.
Asher turned to Nino as the heads and bodies dropped to the floor. There was something so powerful, so wonderful emitting from the complete control in battle. Asher
took a deep breath and smiled. “I still owe you two.”
“What are you—”
Asher didn’t let him finish. He pulled Nino’s poisonous blade out from the wall and placed it longways into Nino’s mouth. He was careful to make sure it didn’t cut Nino’s lips as he said, “Nevermind, I’ll settle for one.” He jammed the butt of his sword against the blade, driving it into the back of his jaw and lodging his mouth wide open.
He didn’t wait to see the poison’s effect. He knew it personally.
"Marshall! Come collect your dead!” Asher yelled, twisting the handle. Nino slid down beside the door. Asher opened it, allowing it to swing into him. "Where is she?!”
*******
Greg/Seth
Early evening
Union Matis, WV
There was an insecurity rising with each step. Greg’s impulsive decision to murder Chapman would be devastating if he failed to properly remember the directions to Mona’s room. He believed it should be just ahead on the right, but was unable to see any rooms with a special code entry. It was a private government facility, surely the level of technology was more advanced than simple numbers on a dial pad. However, that’s what Chapman said. At least, that’s what Greg remembered. It was entirely possible he was disoriented from committing his third murder in two days.
Greg walked down the hall and felt wonder in how much he has evolved since the fall of Salt Lake. Just a week ago, he was a frightened boy begging for survival, while a woman mutilated his face. In those halls, he was evolving into an entirely different species. It wasn’t the simple transition of manhood, it was more closely aligned to the experience a caterpillar goes through in becoming a butterfly.
This was the natural evolution for an individual after experiencing Adam. Greg presumed Reba, the gas station seductress, experienced a similar phenomena. Considering these possibilities instilled confidence in Greg as he walked to Mona’s room. He would figure out what he was doing with Mona when he gained access to her cell.
Greg turned the last corner and saw four soldiers standing in front of the only door at the end of the hall. They appeared to be pressing random numbers. Greg felt the urge to make a joke comparing the soldiers to monkeys and their inability to understand basic math, but held his tongue as the first soldier noticed him.
There was no peaceful nodding or questioning, the man pointed his assault rifle and shouted, “Coming in!” His voice was official, heavy, he was letting the other men know an enemy was approaching and to fire at will.
Greg turned around and ran away. Three shots followed him as he rounded the corner. He expected to hear more, but only heard them yelling. One soldier was ordering another, “Go get him, Nino said no survivors.”
There were two choices. First, Greg could continue running down the hallway and risk being shot in the back. Luck would be his only hope. Despite his repeated survival against odds, Greg didn’t feel comfortable risking his chances down the hall. The other option was to hide in an empty room. If Greg pushed into a locked door, then it would slow him down enough to be cornered in an unlocked cell with four well-trained killers on his trail. There were three doors on the left and three on the right. He was playing Russian Roulette. It was better to pull the trigger first than to wait until the end.
Greg pushed against the first door on his left. He heard soldier’s boots approach the corner.
“Lucky me,” he thought to himself as the door opened. He crouched down and slid to the left of the door.
He heard the hard rhythm of rubber against the floor as the soldier sprinted past. The effort to dodge his predator was a success. He was becoming a more cunning piece on the chessboard; unable to be taken down by any simple moves.
Within seconds, the soldier was yelling from one end of the hall to the other. “He’s gone. We’ll track him down after we take care of the little girl.”
*******
Tink
Evening
Union Matis, WV
He didn’t trust the President. Honestly, he didn’t know if he trusted Mickey, either. It’s not like he spent enough time to know him, to be boys with him, so it made sense for Tink to wonder if Mickey was up to something. Mickey never did anything to make Tink question him, but it all seemed too easy. Was the President really a good guy? Wasn’t he the one who hired Marshall? Tink couldn’t see how lying would benefit Mickey, but he couldn’t understand what benefit Marshall got out of beating the dirt out of him either. Yet, that’s what he did. Of course, it didn’t stop Tink from following him and the President out of his cell and down the hall. One way or the other, they were the best chance to find Mona and break out.
Tink followed the President down the hallway, they were moving away from the gunshots, other than three random shots up ahead. Every so often, Watt would put his hand up and signal for Mickey and Tink to stop moving. He would look around a corner, or squint his eyes, and wait until a gang of soldiers moved from their path. Apparently, everybody at Union Matis was on alert because someone broke in and was beating everyone up. It was a pleasant surprise to know Asher was alive, but Tink would rather hear about Asher killing all of them. None of them were innocent. Including the shysty Watt. Dudes were shooting before they even knew who they were shooting at.
“We’re close. She’s just down the hallway. I moved her to a secure location myself.”
“Why?” Tink asked.
“Nino wants to kill her. Most men obey my orders, but not him, he only listens to Marshall. Just a matter of time before he figures out her location, so we need to be prepared.”
This was good to hear, the fire burned in his hands as he said, “So he’s coming? Good. I got some things I want to talk to him about.”
“Where’s the room?” Mickey asked.
President Watt pointed ahead. “Next right. Last door at the end of the hall.”
There was a hush in the hall. It felt like someone was watching them, waiting for the chance to jump out. Tink looked up and saw the cameras on the walls, wondering if someone, Nino maybe, was checking them out. Maybe there was a trap for them. He let the other two men continue walking forward while he looked back down the hallway. Blue flames came out of his hands as he tried to listen. He knew this feeling. It wasn’t right. Something was wrong. He knew the silence; it was bait. They were walking into a trap.
Watt and Mickey approached the corner.
“Wait!” Tink yelled.
Four different noises came from one bullet.
There was a gunshot. Just one. As it exited from the gun. Pop.
There was an explosion as the bullet burst through the corner’s plaster. Wooz.
Finally, the sound it made when it blew out the side of President Watt’s head. Thup.
Pieces of his scalp landed on Mickey’s face as the bullet rested in the far side of the wall. Crack.
*******
Mickey
Evening
Union Matis, WV
He felt the urge to vomit before he realized what was in his mouth. The spongey texture was disgusting and shocking to fly into his mouth. Once the President’s limp body fell and small pieces of hair tickled through the chunks on Mickey’s tongue; Mickey figured out it was pieces of Watt’s brain. All of this felt like it was moving in slow motion, until more gunshots came.
Mickey’s neck jerked back as Tink grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him to the ground. Pieces of the wall flew apart and covered them. They were ambushed by the soldiers. The guys who were supposed to protect the President just killed him. Mickey stared at Watt’s lifeless eyes. It could have been him. Watt was walking by the wall by chance. He was dead because Mickey was lucky. As always.
The shooting stopped as the guns all made their empty ticks. Mickey heard the sounds of the soldiers dropping their magazines to the floor. “They’re reloading.” Mickey looked back to Tink. “We gotta get out of here.”
Tink’s eyes were blue. Not like Asher. But like, his eyes were glowing blue. Mickey abo
ut crapped his pants. Tink clenched his jaw and said, “Turn out the lights, now.”
“I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“What’re they gonna do when they’re done with us? Who’s next?”
Mickey understood what he trying to say; those guys were outside Mona’s cell, so obviously they were waiting to get their hands on her. Tink wanted to save his sister, that’s all. Mickey wanted the same thing, but he couldn’t just magically make himself able to Pulse the lights out. Tink might be a natural, but Mickey wasn’t.
“Think about the light bulb Asher gave you. Why’d he do it?”
“Cause he wanted to screw with me.”
“Are you stupid? No! That’s not it at all. He wanted you to learn that it wasn’t about you. It wasn’t about being special or having this crazy ability. It was easy, you just can’t overthink it. The Pulse is for saving, but not being the hero. If you’re doing it for you, it’ll never work.”
“So…?”
“They murdered the President and now they’re about to do the same thing to Mona. You turn out those lights and I’ll take care of the rest. Got it?”
“Got it,” Mickey looked up to the light bulb overhead. He stared at it, trying to feel its electricity. There was a gentle humming as he focused, he wasn’t sure if it was the sound of the Pulse or the power. It was either radiating down to him, or inside him.
He took a deep breath. “Not about me.” The vibrations grew larger. He could see the lines of electricity flowing through the wall from light to light. It looked like waves running back and forth. No, he couldn’t see them, he could feel them. It was like the sound of walking beside a room with the television on, he could feel the static before he heard the volume. The soldiers had yet to fire again and Mickey welcomed the silence. He thought about them and how they were probably going to break his concentration, but not if he concentrated harder. Sadly, he didn’t understand how to concentrate harder. Is that even a real thing?