Intended Extinction

by Hanks, Greg

  Was it my desire to show Vane my progress? Was it my rage for GenoTec and the unanswered questions? Was it the simple fact that Simone had brainwashed me? Or was it something entirely different?

  Multiple grenades were tossed down the walkway, a “last resort” of sorts. With no other options, we darted out of the blasts, exposing ourselves to their barrage.

  Dodge yelped in agony, scrambling back behind a pillar. He had been hit in the arm, blood trailing out of his tricep like acrylic paint. The rest of us found cover, unleashing our own wave of destruction.

  I found one soldier popping in and out of a marble pillar. Bollis sprayed the enemy line with his ELBR, scaring my target into cover. I lied prone and timed a perfect shot that hit him square in the face. Blood covered the marble as I put another hole in his belly for good measure.

  In a chain reaction of cover fire and retaliation, our group defended the front line with unmatched finesse. Dodge’s dexterity, Vane’s precision, Bollis’ supporting fire, and my . . . well I was in there somewhere.

  When the resistance slowed, I saw something glint from the back of the hallway, running toward us.

  “Heads up!” shouted Bollis from his position in front of me.

  A simple soldier in black was toting something quite frightening. He held the device upon his shoulder, grasping the thick body like a bazooka. The weapon had a large cone shaped nose, proceeding to a large squared body. Inside the monstrous barrel of the juggernaut, something poked its head out. It looked like a harpoon. Following close behind, another soldier held four terrifying metal spikes within a canvas tote.

  “Take him out,” said Dodge.

  But it was too late. The soldier kneeled, gripped the contraption, and fired. A nasty, silver spear flung out of the weapon, sprouting eight smaller prongs as it floated through the air, almost suspended in time. When it hit, splintered wood and synthetic debris flew everywhere. A shade of dust fell upon the battleground, blinding our vision. I couldn’t think; I could barely breathe. I don’t know why it happened then, but the cataclysmic volume of war bludgeoned my skull. I fell back against the window and slumped to the ground, fighting a migraine from hell.

  The rest of Genesis continued firing away, taking advantage of their thermal vision, while Vane and I dealt with the choking air. Out of commission for another few seconds, I placed a finger up to my ear and called for Tara.

  “What’s your status?” I asked.

  “We’re about to join you,” she said, panting heavily, “Vexin used the RAV-77.”

  That made sense. I wonder if their corridor looked like a sea of crimson, though. I stood up, trying to spot her through the dispersing mist. Before I could answer her back, I felt Vane’s overwhelmingly massive body tackle me to the floor, just as another spear crashed into the ground three feet away from me, splaying the floor open like a zipper.

  The two of us gasped for air underneath a shower of pebbles and wood chips.

  “He’s down, he’s gone!” shouted Dodge.

  “Move!” announced Bollis.

  Vane and I recovered quickly and hobbled out of the cloud. The crackling gunfire seemed to disperse. I emerged from the dust ready to find the next piece of cover available. I spotted a bright green tree supported by a raised slab of marble and called it home.

  With Tara and Vexin reunited with our group, we plastered the next length of the corridor, knocking out ten more Volunteers. Each one fell with a trail of murky blood, staining the beautiful white floors and furniture. I popped out of cover for the last time, aiming upon a woman soldier. Two trigger-pulls later, her head received three through-and-through wounds.

  The other men were retreating, trying to escape through the stairwell door. We pursued the final guards to their death, jumping over barriers and lunging like lions. I caught up to Bollis just as he put an end to a crawling enemy. I was still running though. I flew down the last portion of the corridor—filled with dead bodies—trailing the last soldier.

  “Mark!”

  I disregarded Vane’s chide and leapt through the air, latching onto my prey’s ankles. We came crashing down and our weapons flew from us. I ripped his right leg toward me, pulling his body to my jaws. He struggled violently and attempted to kick in every direction. I instinctively dodged and retaliated with an elbow slam to his throat. While he was gripping his neck, I grasped his shoulders and dragged him over to a large shard of three-inch-thick glass sticking out of the ground like a shiv. I shoved his body onto the spike, impaling his back and torso. It finally broke from under him and his lifeless body crumpled to a gruesome pulp on the now blood-soaked floor.

  I looked up to see the wreckage. The floor was fissured in many places. Chunks of marble, wood, and see-through flooring were littered throughout the curved hallway. There were rifles and pistols and all kinds of machinery left on the ground, including the monstrous harpoon weapon. I walked over to it and crouched to get a better look.

  “Is your arm going to be a problem?” asked Vane, nodding to Dodge.

  “I’ll be fine,” said Dodge. “It’s just a graze.”

  The rest of Genesis regrouped around me, still hot from battle.

  “We need to keep moving. Repik’s cornered,” grunted Vane as he started to trudge down the beleaguered corridor.

  But everyone stopped when someone started coughing violently.

  All eyes were on Bollis. He took his hand away from his mouth, showing a patch of red on his glove.

  “We better get moving then,” he said, wiping the blood onto his chest pouch.

  There was silence as we accounted for our timetable.

  “We need to pull out all the stops,” said Vane. “What kind of firepower do we have left?”

  “I’ve saved my dragon’s breath rounds,” said Vexin.

  “Two packs of plastics and a few sliderjets,” said Bollis.

  “We’re getting low on ammo,” said Dodge, filtering through Bollis’ pack.

  “All right,” concluded Vane, nodding, “use everything.”

  Dodge pulled a few more magazines for his M580, Vexin started loading his shotgun with his incendiary dragon’s breath rounds, Tara loaded two new clips into her CT-46, and I found a surplus of GenoTec ammunition for my MLM. Bollis took out six sliderjets, placing them in his chest and lumbar pouches, while Vane armed himself with discarded GenoTec equipment.

  We consolidated our supplies into one of the two black canvas backpacks, with Vexin as the designated carrier. I looked at the group before following them down the hallway. Visors were cracked or broken; Oversuits were tarnished, scratched and dented. Paint flaking away, flesh exposed, Undersuits ripped. Exhausted, with adrenaline spewing out of our ears, our team of six would never stop until Repik answered for his crimes. And . . . whoever else was responsible.

  Before ascending the staircase, Dodge spoke up.

  “The alarm stopped.”

  Everyone listened.

  “Volunteers are going to be coming to work soon,” answered Vexin.

  “What happens when they find this?” asked Dodge, gesturing to the massive amount of corpses.

  “That depends on the success of our mission,” said Vane.

  53

  The rooftop door slid open for us, like a hatch to our discomfort and fear.

  “It looks a lot smaller in person,” shouted Bollis through a gust of wind. Everyone looked to the squat, two-story minibuilding in the center of the rooftop.

  Our feet scuffed the concrete as we passed different structures. Tall, communication obelisks, pyramid shaped boxes with glass coverings, dense cubes of concrete adorned with solar panels, and numerous other architecture dotted the surface.

  The jet-black sky encapsulated the end of our journey. In the darkness I saw the silver elevator located at the base of the annexed structure—the only way inside. Above the blank, windowless first story was our destination.

  Illuminating its surroundings, the second level reminding me of a lighthouse. The light
s showed us nothing more than a few bookcases and indiscernible wall hangings. From our angle, the details couldn’t be seen, but Repik had to be there. So many thoughts pawed at the sides of my brain. Did we give him too much time to escape? Where would he run? I watched Vane lead the group closer to the building and told myself I needed to trust the plan.

  In the distance, a whirring noise cut through the gales of wind.

  “Do you hear that?” asked Dodge through his communication unit.

  Everyone stopped feet away from the elevator, listening to the steady humming noise become louder. Adrenaline flushed through my veins and my heartbeat quickened. My gut feeling told me what was coming, but I didn’t want to believe it.

  “Incoming helo!” shouted Bollis.

  Just as the sound reached its final pitch, the monster revealed itself. A gigantic helicopter shot its way into the sky above our position, glaring us down with its heavy, cylindrical gatling guns, one on each wing.

  “Use the building!” shouted Vane.

  Repik wouldn’t risk damaging his command post. The only way we were going to survive was to use the minibuilding to our advantage.

  I threw away my cautions, finding cover behind a communication pillar. The bird blended with the dark backdrop, giving me a frustrating time trying to get a good shot off. Once again, being helmet-less sucked.

  The helicopter’s side door slid open to reveal three black-garbed men toting small arms, silhouetted by an inside light. They began to fire at us, easily smoking us out of cover. The bird hovered over the edge of the building, focusing on Bollis and Vexin, who were busy drawing attention to themselves.

  “Mark, nine o’ clock!” shouted Dodge, piercing my eardrum.

  I turned to see GenoTec soldiers bursting out of the stairwell entrance. I moved forward and slid behind a solar panel box.

  “Tara!” I shouted. “I’m pinned down!”

  “Copy. I see them,” she replied.

  I kneeled out of cover, blasting another oncoming soldier. Bullets flew my way, forcing me back behind the concrete box before I had a chance to see where it originated from.

  Tara reached me in time to stop a stealthy soldier from dispatching me from behind. The body fell in a heap at my ankles. The two of us broke away from the box and flanked the stairwell door, keeping them from the rest of the group trying to deal with the helicopter.

  “They’re preparing something, Mark,” said Tara, reloading.

  Indeed, the soldiers in the stairwell had stopped firing at us, leaving their teammates outside to be mutilated by our positions. Tara and I cleaned up the final members of the kill squad and waited impatiently.

  As the stairwell door closed, an idea struck my cortex.

  “Vexin! Get the RAV-77 over here!”

  Through a chain of different Genesis members, the heavy machine gun was passed along the rooftop without missing a beat. Tara ran the behemoth over to me with an extra drum of ammunition. I calibrated the electromagnetic force and heaved the loading mechanism into place.

  “Have the ammo ready,” I told Tara. She clutched the 600 extra rounds as we moved to a more centralized position. The helicopter never escaped our peripheral vision.

  As the rest of our teammates held the metal bird in their sights, I propped the RAV-77 upon a cooling device and aimed the v-shaped chamber at the stairwell door. My finger grazed the trigger.

  The door whooshed open, revealing another armored guard holding a harpoon weapon. How unfortunate for him.

  The sound of the RAV-77 left me deaf. Blue trails of electricity erratically escaped the barrel as hundreds of rounds plastered the doorway. The man holding the harpoon weapon split in half as the supersonic bullets cut him like a knife. I blanketed the walls on either side of the door, watching blood and metal fly in every direction. The recoil dissipated into my shoulder, causing my whole frame to shake. The longer I held the trigger, the more inaccurate I became.

  “Okay! That’s enough!” I head Tara from behind.

  One remaining floodlight allowed me to see just how obliterated the threshold was. Literally dripping with entrails, the entryway caused my breath to stop for a moment.

  “Holy hell!” spat Tara, gawking at the carnage.

  “Get out of there!” yelled Bollis.

  Tara and I turned our heads just in time to see the helicopter locking on to our position. The gatling guns began to whir. Huge rounds of ammunition rocked our position to hell. We crossed the length of the roof, feeling the violent vibrations of each powerful shell hitting the surface behind us. I dropped the RAV-77, fearing it would slow me down, and we made it behind the minibuilding without a scratch.

  The gatling gun turned its focus on the others, showering their position in metal melting precipitation.

  With cover dwindling and ammunition spreading thin, our hopes of taking this bird down were shrinking by the second. Dread began to dawn upon me as I nervously fiddled with another clip of ammo. I could still feel the gatling gun tearing apart the rooftop, probably blending our friends into a bloody soup. Our little rifles weren’t going to put a dent into the helicopter. We needed the RAV-77—more realistically, we needed a miracle.

  I poked my head around the corner of the building and saw Vexin’s incendiary rounds blasting the open door of the helicopter. Vane’s crouched back could be seen behind a large solar panel array. It was now or never.

  I sprinted across the roof, jumping over chasms created by the gatling gun. I retraced my steps and found the RAV-77, slightly damaged, teetering on the edge of a wide hole in the surface. Tara was close behind.

  I grabbed the heavy weapon just as crossfire pelted our location. We were pinned down by the last two guards within the helicopter. While they kept us at bay, the gatling gun worked on the other four.

  “I can’t get into position!” I shouted to Tara.

  “I can’t even manage to suppress!” she replied.

  We sat there, held captive by GenoTec. Time was running out. By now, Repik could have escaped. Everything seemed to fall upon me with a weight of failure.

  “What’s that?!” yelled Tara.

  I focused my already damaged ears to a faint-yet-rising melody, playing against the sounds of war.

  No. It couldn’t be. What the hell?

  Electric guitar and double bass echoed across the war torn rooftop. I couldn’t believe it, but it was “Good Times, Bad Times” by Led Zeppelin.

  “Whoo!” shouted a mousy voice from an unknown source, amplified ten-fold. “And in three . . . two . . . one!”

  In a flash of light, an electrical box below the floating helicopter burst, sending a pulse of paralyzing force in all directions. The EMP-like wave rocked the helicopter, stunning it in mid-air.

  “Now’s your chance you morons!” shouted Justin’s voice, echoing across the rooftop. “Take it out!”

  “Hell yeah!” screamed Dodge.

  In the midst of the familiar rock tune, I repositioned the RAV-77, replaced the ammunition, and tore into the disoriented helicopter.

  At first the bullets ricocheted off of the heavy plating, but after a few seconds of concentrated fire, the windshield shattered, blood exploded out of the cockpit, and the front of the metal bird surged in a plume of black and yellow.

  “It’s coming down!” shouted Vexin.

  I stopped firing and watched in horror as the flaming hunk of metal came plummeting toward their position. The last soldier fell out of the open door, breaking his legs upon the hard concrete. Tara and I rounded our cover, watching the entire event unfold. The helicopter proceeded to descend upon the soldier, the spinning blades closing in on the surface. The unfortunate Volunteer tried to crawl away, but the rotor tore into the roof. Blood splattered across the rooftop, spraying a huge portion of the wall the helicopter was about to crash into. The giant rotor broke into pieces, flying in all directions at intense speeds.

  It was the most gut wrenching sound I had ever heard when that giant metal beast met its mat
ch against the sentinel wall. First, a monstrous rumble shook the ground, debris splashing every surface. Two seconds later, the helicopter exploded, knocking Tara and I off our feet.

  54

  Justin clicked away at the keyboard, quietly humming to himself. Tapped into the surveillance system, he watched Genesis recover from the helicopter blast. Using a tethering algorithm with Celia’s ongoing looping, Justin had commandeered the cameras without being detected. He had done what Celia could not.

  While the eleven-year-old mischievously worked, a message popped up on his monitor. A picture of a rotating question mark displayed inside the small alert window. Confused, Justin tapped the box and it expanded to cover the majority of the screen.

  “Celia!” shouted Justin.

  The young brunette’s face covered the monitor, smiling brightly at the boy.

  “Justin!” she exclaimed. “I had a hunch this tether was yours! Are you okay?! What’s going on?!”

  “How come the others can’t reach you?” asked Justin, leaning close to the screen, practically hovering on his chair.

  “I’m not sure. Every channel I use is blocked. Somehow GenoTec knows we’re tampering with their system. But we’re on completely separate wavelengths—it makes no sense. I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t like it.”

  “Well, in other news, everyone’s okay,” said Justin, “they’re on their way to Reppy as—we—SPEAK!”

  After Justin related the details, Celia sighed heavily, knowing her friends were safe. She knew that Dodge was safe.

  “Okay,” said Celia, “we’re going to work together on this. Start sending me your surveillance footage. I’m going to try and work around this communication block.”

  “Already took care of it,” he said proudly. “I hijacked the intercom system.”

  Celia smiled, “Damn. I knew you were good, but I had no idea you could handle this kind of thing. Thank God you’re with us.”

  “Well,” said the boy, “after what they did to me, I’m going to do everything I can to kill everyone involved.”