by T. C. Edge
Holding the large pulse rifle, I creep around the side of the van and peer through my mask into the wilderness ahead. Flashes of light appear from the murky woods, the fight now stretching off as the participants displace and seek cover as trees and plants are blown apart.
Among the green trees and toxins, I see the sight of red as well. One man lies in a pool of it, blood seeping into the dirt just off to the right, his body half charred and decimated by a pulse round sent from a Stalker’s gun.
I quickly creep forward and look through the mist at his face, terrified that I might make out my brother’s features.
I don’t.
This is another man, another member of the Nameless, garbed in rough clothing and now dead in this attempt to rescue me.
I turn away and continue on, searching for my brother through the dim and tangled jungle, listening closely to the roar of the weapons as I go. A couple seem to have quietened now, two more men falling, only a few remaining in the fight as these hybrids, good and bad, serving the Nameless and the Consortium, utilise their special gifts to try to disable each other.
And right in the middle, I’m the prize. A prize to kill and be killed over…
I hate the thought.
The fighting is now centred off the track to the right. On the left, all has gone still, and once more I spy the sight of a body lying prostrate in the dirt. I rush towards it, and find that it’s another one of the Nameless, a woman this time, her eyes like mine and face young.
Too young to die.
Then, a third body appears, darker than the rest. I hurry on and find the black cloak of one of the Stalkers hiding his frame. I reach down, feeling the sharp burn of the poison, and turn the body over. The Stalker stares up at me, eyes wide open, a large hole blasted straight through his chest.
One down. But what about the other?
I turn towards the sound of the fight again, away into the woods. Only three distinct weapons fire now, only three combatants remaining; my brother, another of his men, and the second Stalker.
But I’m here too. I’m a part of this fight.
So I begin to run, leaping over roots and tangled vines as I dart deeper beneath the canopy. And soon, I’m coming up on them, and through the shroud I see my enemy, cloaked in the black robe of the Stalkers, his gloved hands clasping tightly at his pulse rifle as he sends rounds of red energy through the trees.
I begin to approach him, sneaking silently now as I raise my own weapon. He continues to maintain his gaze ahead, seemingly unaware of my presence as he hides behind the base of a large, broken tree trunk, firing around the side as two weapons batter him from ahead.
And then, as I sneak forward, a sudden lull fills the air, all weapons seemingly to stop firing at once.
Just at that moment, my foot comes down on a dry piece of wood, and the twig snaps beneath my weight, audible now in the abrupt and eerie silence.
Still far enough away from him, I hope he won’t have heard. But my hope is quickly expunged as I realise that this Stalker has been part bred from a Bat, that his ears are capable of picking up the quietest of sounds.
His reaction is immediate.
He swivels around and sees me there, standing foolishly in the open, my feet seeming to lock in place as his weapon quickly rises up and readies to fire.
In that split second, I feel my frame buzzing with energy as my Dasher powers rumble from within. And without hesitation, I start to flow with super-speed away from him, moving off behind a large tree just as a flow of red fire comes pouring from the barrel of his gun.
It greets the tree with a ferocious flame, tearing it apart and sending it crumbling to the earth. I dart away again in search of new cover, a trail of red following my step.
The colours are tremendous. Reds become oranges as the pulse rounds blast into trees, setting them aflame. The greens of the bushes and toxic mist light up amid the blaze, leaves quickly blackening and turning to ash as the whole jungle is assaulted.
I rush away now with no thoughts of returning fire, moving from tree to tree as I seek out new cover. And as the Stalker begins his pursuit, I swerve around a corner and immediately find a new figure waiting before me.
Dressed in the makeshift armour of the Nameless, I immediately know he’s not my brother. He turns to me with his own weapon primed, swerving it up as my Dasher powers start to weaken and fade.
I start to shout out: “No!” but his weapon doesn’t stop. Looking upon me, wearing this mask, dressed in this jacket of the City Guard, his instinct takes over as I take him by surprise.
He doesn’t see my long brunette hair, or the shining hazel eyes hidden behind the mask, or the narrow frame that is far too small for the jacket that covers it.
He thinks me only as his enemy, and his weapon is about to fire…
And then, as I slide to a stop before him, I hear another call coming from behind him, and see a blast of blue come hurtling in his direction.
Before he can pull the trigger, the blue ball engulfs him, disabling his body and leaving it rigid and temporarily paralysed.
I turn my eyes up and see, away through the trees, my brother standing with his weapon aimed forward at his own man, stopping him from making a terrible mistake.
But really, it’s my mistake.
Because with the man now paralysed and unable to move, he’s also completely defenceless. And as I stare right at him, I see a new pulse of energy approach from the left, lighting up the green mist as it surges for the stricken soldier.
This ball, however, it’s not blue, but red. Sent from the rifle of the Stalker, it buzzes and zips its way towards my brother’s man, greeting him with a wholly different effect to the disabling round sent by Zander.
That was meant only to immobilise. This one has the single purpose to destroy.
And destroy it does.
Watching in horror from only ten or so metres away, I see the red round of energy tear the man apart. Hitting him in his chest, it burns straight through him, cutting him in two as his body tumbles to the ground.
A scream explodes from my lungs at the sight. And so too from the distance, where my twin looks upon the ruined form of his soldier, his lungs blaring with a bellow of anger.
And suddenly, I see him all but disappear, my eyes barely able to follow as a trail of clear air cuts through the mist, and he shoots straight around at the Stalker off to the left.
I move forward just in time to see him strike, see his body move so fast that not even the Stalker sees him coming. His fist connects with the hybrid hunter’s helmet with such strength that it shatters, exploding into the Stalker’s face with a thousand shards and blinding him in an instant.
He drops to his knees, grasping at his face as it spews blood, and my brother stands over him with a grimace visible behind his mask. And lifting his own pulse rifle, he flicks a dial on the side, switching it back to its most devastating mode, and aims it directly at the Stalker’s head.
Through the toxic fog, I watch as the end of my brother’s gun spews forth its terrible charge at point blank range.
And right before him, the Stalker’s head explodes from his body.
I wish to turn away, I don’t. I just watch as his frame collapses to the dirt, and his severed neck turns to a fountain of blood.
And despite the gore and gruesome nature of it all, I enjoy it. I want that man to suffer.
Truly, piece-by-piece, my humanity is being stripped away from me.
15
As the body of the Stalker hits the dirt, Zander turns his eyes to me. Even from here, I can see them sparkling behind his mask with a range of emotions.
With a sudden pace, he sweeps towards me and scoops me up into his arms, his muscles squeezing the air from me for a moment as I’m lifted from the mud. Then I’m dropped, and his attention immediately swerves to his fallen man, his body cut in two mere metres from where we stand.
When his eyes return to mine, I say: “The others are dead.”
> He already knows it. I don’t need to tell him that.
“They were good soldiers,” he says, as if to himself.
“They shouldn’t have had to die for me,” I say.
He frowns.
“This is war, Brie,” he says. “They didn’t die for you. They died for our cause.” His eyes turn to the deep woods. “We need to leave this place…”
“But what about their bodies? You don’t mean to bury them?”
He shakes his head, his eyes narrow behind his mask.
“The jungle will make use of their bodies. Now what of the other guards?” he asks. “I was told you’d be escorted by two City Guards as well as two Stalkers.”
“They’re in the van,” I tell him.
He turns his attention through the woods in the direction of the track, and lifts his weapon. Then, with a swift step, he starts marching through the mud as I trail after him, stumbling through the mist on shaky legs.
Arriving at the back, he quickly aims the barrel of the gun inside. The two Hawks merely sit there, still under my command, one shorn of his jacket and rifle.
I reach out and pull down Zander’s gun.
“You don’t need to. I have them under control.”
“Like I told you, Brie,” he says, lifting the gun again. “This is war, and these men are our enemy.”
I grip the gun and pull it away.
“No, they’re not. We’re trying to save everyone, Zander.”
“Not everyone,” he growls. “Men like this are beyond saving. They are too loyal to their masters. Turn the tables, and they’d shoot us both dead. They’d probably enjoy it too…”
There’s an intensity to his words, a ferocity inside him, fuelled by the adrenaline of the firefight and seeing his soldiers die. It’s revenge that he craves. I know that. I can feel that.
“You can’t, Zander,” I say. “They’re prisoners. It’s not right.”
He snarls at the two men, who cower in the darkness of the van’s interior. I can sense their desire to attack, so quickly give them a verbal command to step out of the van and discard any weapons they carry.
They do so, Zander watching them closely as they go. Guns and knives are tossed into the rear of the truck.
“You see,” I tell him. “They’re mine, brother. They don’t need to die…”
Slowly, he lowers his gun.
“Fine, have it your way,” he growls, still eyeballing the two City Guards. Then he turns to me. “Are you well enough protected,” he asks, scanning my body. “We have a long trek ahead.”
I nod, but there’s something else on my mind now, something I can barely bring myself to ask. Not after this, not after saving me, not after everything else he’s done.
But still, now that he’s here, maybe there’s hope.
Hope for my husband…
“Adryan,” I whisper.
His eyebrows descend. He knows what’s coming.
“No, Brie, don’t even say it….”
“I have to!” I call. “He’s going to be killed, Zander…in only a few hours he’ll be dead. I can’t let that happen.”
“You have no choice!” he returns, spewing hot words. “I came to save YOU, Brie, and no one else. My men are dead, and I can accept that for you, but no one else. Adryan played his part, and he knew the risks. You have to forget about him now…”
He sounds like Lady Orlando. He sounds like Commander Burns.
“I can’t just forget about him. He put his life on the line, and you wouldn’t even negotiate his release! If you won’t do it, I’m going alone!”
“Release? What are you talking about?”
“Like you don’t know, Zander! Cromwell was willing to swap Adryan for Agent Woolf. He could have been saved, but instead he’s being tortured and is about to be have his damn head chopped off! I can’t let that happen.”
He goes quiet for a moment, and I slip into his thoughts.
He really doesn’t know. Lady Orlando never told him…
“If that was Lady Orlando’s choice, then so be it,” he says after a few moments of reflection.
“You don’t believe that, surely?!” I glare. “After all he’s done for your cause, you’re just happy to let him die in the REEF?!”
“Brie, this is…”
“DON’T SAY ‘THIS IS WAR’” I roar. “He is my HUSBAND, Zander. You think I’m going to let him die without a fight? Go ahead, read my thoughts…you’ll see there’s nothing that’s going to stop me from going there and helping him.”
I speak without really thinking. Only ten or so minutes ago, I was considering suicide, giving up completely on the idea of saving Adryan from a terrible fate. Now, with my all-powerful brother alongside me, I’m suddenly desperate to attempt a daring escape.
It’s so inconsistent, but I can’t help it. My emotions are all over the place, one minute making me completely disconsolate, the next giving me the fire and determination I need to try the impossible.
And in that state, I’m refusing to listen to reason, refusing to see the logic that, only minutes ago, I was wishing I could employ.
But now things have changed. The two Stalkers are dead, and Zander is right here with me, and I have two City Guards under my total control. Now, maybe, it might just work.
Zander stares at me for a few moments, and then a few words drip from his mouth.
“He’s not your husband, Brie,” he says. “Your marriage isn’t real…”
“It’s real to me,” I counter as a tear hovers in the corner of my left eye. “I care about him, Zander. I can’t just let him die. I…I…can’t do it.”
With our eyes locked together, I sense him entering my mind and reading my thoughts as I requested. And in there, he’ll see the truth. He’ll see that I’ll do anything to save him. He’ll see that I could have made my escape in Outer Haven, but chose to continue to the REEF instead, knowing it would mean certain death or reconditioning.
And he’ll see, too, that my feelings for Adryan are deeper than he knows. He’ll see that I love the man.
But as he examines my mind, he doesn’t just look. I feel him attempting something, trying to subtly manipulate my thoughts and feelings, to set an order in me to forget about Adryan, to leave this place right now.
I feel him doing it all somewhere in the depths of me, so quietly and secretly altering my desires, hoping I don’t notice.
But I do.
I feel it, and immediately begin to counter him, driving him backwards, blocking my mind from his intrusions.
And as I do so, I try something of my own, try to turn his own thoughts against him, to order him to agree to what I’m saying. He recoils and I see him stepping back and frowning at me.
“You won’t change my mind, Zander,” I tell him. “You have to help me.”
He shakes his head, and I scan his thoughts, and see that he’s completely against it all. And so, without thinking, I quickly flash my eyes on the two Hawks standing to the side, and as I do so, whisper: “Restrain him.”
Before Zander can react, the two men rush forward and take one of his arms each. He begins to struggle in their grasp for a moment, but is unable to escape them.
Settling, he looks at me again.
“You owe him, Zander,” I whisper. “What does it say about us if we won’t help one of our own? What exactly are we fighting for if not the lives of those we care about? Maybe you don’t care what happens to him, but I do. Please. Please help me.”
His resolve begins to weaken, my appeal to his good nature, to his good heart, having the effect I desire. And as his shaking head begins to turn to a nod, I also feel a ripple of guilt passing through me.
This isn’t the first time I’ve asked him to save someone I care about…
But then, I’ve done plenty for them as well. OK, so my mission failed, but I did all I could to complete it. I was rushed into all of this, forced to adapt to survive, kept in the dark about so many things.
And now, it’
s back to him, his turn to repay the favour.
And letting out a long breath, he merely says: “OK.”
16
I order for the two Hawks to release my brother. He shrugs them away as they step back towards the van, creeping out of the toxic mist.
Zander starts to pace, turning his eyes down the track in either direction. Then he moves to the Hawks and begins a short interrogation.
“When is the next convoy expected through these woods?” he asks.
They refuse to answer until I order them to do so.
“Not until early evening,” says one.
“And has backup been called for?” Zander looks to the Hawk’s forearm interface, which doesn’t show any signs of an imminent surge of reinforcements.
The same Hawk shakes his head.
“Not by us.”
“Check the feed. See if either of the Stalkers have sent out an alarm,” he orders.
The Hawk does so, before informing us that no backup has been requested.
Now it’s my turn to speak.
“You think they would have heard the firefight from here?” I ask Zander.
He shakes his head.
“Hopefully not. We picked this spot to intercept you precisely because it’s far enough away from both the city and the REEF to be out of audible range. It’s possible that a Bat manning the city gates or the gates of the REEF may have heard, but I can’t be sure. We’re not seeing any incoming reinforcements. I’m hoping we’re in the clear.”
“Well, that’s good. We can use the van to get inside, right? The Hawks can take the wheel…”
“Brie, they’re expecting two Stalkers and two Hawks to be escorting you. They’ll know something’s wrong if no Stalkers appear.”
He’s got a point.
“OK, then you dress up as one,” I propose. “As soon as you get in front of the guards at the gate, you can just manipulate them into thinking there was only meant to be one Stalker. Would that work?”
He considers the suggestion for a moment.
“It might. But we have bigger problems than that…”
“Such as?” I query.
