Soul of the Reaper: A military Scifi Epic (The Last Reaper Book 11)

by J. N. Chaney

  “I believe it was more of a budgetary issue at that time,” X-37 said. “The doctor of course did many projects off the books. With his illicit cloning experiments, and his legitimate healing projects, ninety-eight percent of his experiments failed on anybody but your predecessor’s DNA.”

  “It doesn’t seem like my fault.” I moved away from the tunnel collapse to a thoroughly looted supermarket. Most of the buildings in this area were scorched by fire, and the only glass I saw was broken into tiny fragments.

  “Hatred is often irrational, Reaper Cain.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  The sun came up moments after I ducked into the supermarket. I crouched in a pile of shelves and watched the window. Standing too close to it was dangerous, so I took what view I could from here. Sunlight gave me a boost of energy, a good thing since I needed to stay awake.

  “I could continue to describe the events of the next ten years, but they are somewhat repetitive. We ran, we fought, we searched for enemies and answers until we learned of the clone station. The rest of the story is yours,” X-37 said.

  “Thanks, X.” Something about the rising sun soothed me. I felt the old kinship with my LAI and didn’t care if that was natural or even safe. Without him, I’d just be talking to myself like a crazy person.

  A bullet ripped through the air, slicing the left side of my head, spraying blood from the top of my left ear. I rolled away, cursing incoherently.

  “Why couldn’t I have found a grocery store with an ammunition aisle?” I pressed one hand to my wound as I found a better hiding place. Blood oozed between my fingers. “I’m really getting annoyed with this character. Who the hell does he think he is?”

  “I can’t answer that question,” X-37 said. “But you can find ammunition in aisle nine right next to body armor and jet packs.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Of course, Reaper Cain. Did it lighten the mood?”

  “I want to punch you in your face,” I said.

  “Impossible.”

  “Less jokes more keeping me alive,” I said, looking for the back door. A collapsed wall blocked my path. I had to go out the front, in broad daylight, after already getting shot once. I taped some sterile gauze to my ear and ignored the fact that I had no more first-aid supplies. Why dwell on the negative?

  I waited thirty minutes, then edged toward the front door.

  “You’re moving toward a confrontation you cannot win,” X-37 said. “I cannot condone this course of action.”

  “I’m tired of waiting around. I’m not going to sit here forever,” I said. “I’ll be careful.”

  “This does not reassure me, Reaper Cain.”

  “Deal with it.”

  “How exactly do you plan to close with and destroy your enemy?” X-37 asked.

  “I’ll watch and wait. Maybe until nightfall. If he comes after me, I’ll be ready.”

  “You haven’t eaten for nearly twenty-four hours, and your fluid intake has barely met your survival requirements,” X-37 said.

  “Maybe he’ll have some rations and a camelback full of water when I take him down,” I said.

  “That is probable, provided you win your next encounter. Thus far, your record has been less than stellar so I wouldn’t count on it.”

  “You know what, X? Solutions would be much more helpful. I didn’t choose the battlefield.”

  “That, of course, was your first mistake.”

  “Wow, you’re on fire today. I liked it better when you were cracking jokes.” Something moved across the sunlight streaming into the broken windows. My adversary was getting as impatient as I was.

  “While I applaud this rare bit of luck, I still assert that I am correct and that you should listen to me in the future,” X-37 said.

  “I always listen to you, X. When have I not?”

  “Even with my imperfect memory of our relationship, I can list 1,232 instances you have completely ignored me when I was, in fact, correct.” My HUD displayed a snapshot of the scene, with two windows and the doorway marked as possible entry points. “My analysis of your eye movements suggests you have these covered, but I am trying to be helpful.”

  “Thanks, but he won’t come in. The guy knows better, I think.” I moved closer to a window. “Hey, sniper! Let’s talk.”

  A pause.

  “About what? That rifle you have with no ammunition?”

  “He’s good,” X-37 said. “The man must have been paying attention when you fled the assault craft.”

  “I just need some answers,” I called out. “What happened to Maglan? I need to find my family and friends and check on them.”

  The watcher laughed. “That’s new. I never heard one of you pushing that angle. Hold on, let me come out with my hands up and surrender my weapons. You’re obviously one of the good guys.”

  I crawled closer to the door. “He sounds close, X.”

  “Twenty-five meters, most likely he is directly across the street using the early-morning shadows to his benefit,” X-37 said.

  “Good or bad has nothing to do with it,” I shouted. “This place is a wasteland. We can kill each other, or we could help each other survive.”

  “I don’t make deals with demons,” he said.

  “Just between you and me, X, I have about fifteen awesome comebacks for that comment,” I said quietly.

  “I will make a note of your self-restraint.”

  A new set of voices cut into my delightful conversation with the watcher. Down the street, a group of Hagg soldiers argued over something they’d scavenged. I couldn’t understand their language but the tone and pace of the bickering was familiar to an old soldier like me.

  “Please, please, please let them come this way,” I muttered.

  “Maybe they will bring you ammunition for the D3D rifle as well. And a nutritious meal,” X-37 said.

  “And cigars. And whiskey.”

  “Don’t get greedy, Reaper Cain.”

  “Hey, Reaper,” the watcher called in a much lower voice than before. “You probably can’t see this group, but there are a lot of them—four or five you should hear arguing if you’re half as alert as the other Reapers before you, and a platoon moving behind them. The only force that large in this area is battalion strength, and they don’t split up. So expect a lot more of them.”

  “Thanks for the information. You’re back on my holiday card list,” I said.

  “Hilarious,” he said. “I’m only telling you this because I want to finish our little fight and hope you survive the Hagg. You’ve been warned. I’ll see you around.”

  “Bye.” I listened to see if he actually moved from his position.

  “Remain where you are, Reaper Cain. He is waiting for you to poke your head out.”

  “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

  Thirty seconds later, I heard the sound of a boot scuffing the pavement, followed by running footfalls.

  I peeked at the doorway, popped to my feet, and went after the watcher. If the Hagg saw me dart across the street, then into the alleyway, they didn’t shout or shoot.

  “See there, X. Everything is going to work out.”

  My LAI’s only response was to display simple maps of the immediate area in my HUD. Using that information and the average speed of a well trained soldier on foot, I guesstimated he was nearly at a corner I didn’t want him to reach. If he did, he could turn and ambush me. That crap had to stop.

  I had to catch him while he was running, and I had to close the distance before he could turn and fire.

  Lactic acid filled my thighs as I poured on the speed. My lungs burned, and wind brushed my face. This was a bad gamble, but I was out of options.

  The watcher turned and drew a pistol, but it was too late. I dove at him, tackled him by his legs, and slammed his body down like this was a life and death fight.

  Hagg soldiers shouted in the distance. My opponent grunted as air left his lungs and I wrenched the pistol out of his hand.

&n
bsp; The man wasn’t done fighting, however. He slammed his darkened helmet visor into my face. Stars exploded in my vision as we rolled across the ground.

  15

  I grabbed both of his wrists and put my knee on his stomach, holding him down.

  “I’m unable to identify him. Please remove his helmet,” X-37 said.

  “Working on it, X.”

  The man cursed.“You and your damn LAI sorcery!”

  “You don’t know me, asshole.” I pulled his arms down, looking for a submission hold. Controlling his hands would prevent him from grabbing a weapon, but wouldn’t end the fight. Driving my knee into his belly compromised his breathing, but not enough for me to win quickly—and we were both on the clock with the Hagg soldiers moving into the area.

  “You’re going to get us both killed,” he complained, misery coloring his words.

  “Sucks, doesn’t it?” I asked. “Now you know how I felt getting shot at with nothing but a knife and unloaded weapons to defend myself.”

  “Your failure to plan isn’t my fault,” he said.

  “Who are you?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  “Listen, dumbass, I’m going to figure it out even if I have to identify a corpse. Answer the fucking question.”

  “Eat my shorts!”

  I laughed a bit crazily. “What are you, twelve?”

  Instead of answering, he arched his back and thrust his hips high, trying to throw me off.

  “Nice try, but I’ve done this before. I’m a Reaper, remember?”

  “You’re a fucking clone!”

  I released one of his hands and punched him in the side of his neck without hesitation. He grunted in pain, then reached for his pistol. I was there first, pulling it out backward.

  This time when he tried to buck me off, I went tumbling.

  Still holding one of his wrists, I jerked on it as I stood up, yanking him off balance.

  He staggered back and drew a second pistol.

  Still holding the gun upside down, I fired three times, striking his body armor with perfect accuracy. The force of the rounds staggered him.

  I leapt forward and kicked him in the chest, knocking him onto his back—an uncomfortable position for him with his rifle and other gear secured there. Without pausing, I went after his gun hand. I seized it and wrenched it over his head at a painful angle. He rolled onto his stomach in an attempt not to have his shoulder dislocated.

  “You’re mine,” I growled.

  He continued to roll until he was nearly on his back, one foot pressed into my stomach. I could feel my face contort in disgust when the sonofabitch wouldn’t give it up.

  “Don’t,” I said, drawing it out through gritted teeth. I’d been pissed before, but now I was into the kind of anger that made me punish people, not just hurt them.

  He heaved me back.

  I retreated, aimed, and waited for him to realize his pistol had gone flying down the alleyway during our struggle.

  He pulled his rifle from his back.

  I shot him in the hand.

  He bent forward, screaming in pain but still holding the long sniper rifle with his other hand. “What the hell? That was dirty as fuck!”

  “Next one is in your throat unless you drop that HDK and answer some questions,” I said. “You know I won’t miss.”

  He bent forward again, groaning miserably about the broken hand bones in his gauntlets. I needed him to focus because we didn’t have a lot of time. Maybe I shouldn’t have picked the hand.

  “He is digging in his waistband,” X-37 warned.

  A distraction grenade rolled to my feet and exploded. I staggered away, blind, deaf, and more than a little stunned but not so out of the fight that I didn’t open fire.

  When my vision cleared, I saw him fleeing into a building.

  “So that’s what we’re going to do all day?” I went after him without giving him a chance to set up with the sniper rifle, not that I thought he would be accurate shooting with broken fingers. “Why can’t this guy be reasonable, X?”

  “Unknown, but he resembles a certain Reaper I know in a lot of ways. Never quits, always fights, uses a lot of profanity when injured,” X-37 said.

  “Profanity has a lot of healing properties.”

  “It does not, Reaper Cain.”

  The inside of the apartment building had a lobby, several businesses, and a hallway leading to the elevators and emergency stairs.

  “He didn’t have time to reach the stairs,” X-37 said.

  I scanned the ground and saw a trail of blood leading into a coffee shop. “I got him.”

  “Stay back. I’ll shoot.” The man’s rough voice cracked, making him sound almost like a kid for a second.

  “You would have already shot me if you could,” I said. “There are two ways this ends, you surrender and answer some questions, or I beat you like you owe me money and you answer some questions.”

  No answer.

  “He’s running out the back, Reaper Cain.”

  “Thanks, X, I figured that out.” I dashed into the coffee shop, ran halfway through, and saw candy bars still in their wrappers lying everywhere. My stomach screamed at me to stop and grab one.

  “Remind me to come back for that,” I said as I sprinted through the shop and out the back door—which turned out to be a side door leading to another street.

  “Hagg soldiers,” X warned.

  I stopped, searched for the watcher, and saw his rifle lying in the middle of the street. Three big Haggs stood over him. One kicked him, another looked back toward where I assumed the rest of their unit was, and the third dug through the watcher’s pack.

  “Why can’t anything be easy, X?”

  “You ask that a lot. I recommend decisive action.”

  My LAI didn’t have to tell me twice. I rushed the group, moving in a shooting stance as I aimed. The first shot killed the Hagg searching the watcher’s backpack because he was closest to the fallen sniper rifle. The second shot took the lookout in the side of the neck. It was a gruesome but effective wound. Not silent by any stretch of the imagination. The non-human soldier screamed like a wounded cat despite his bulk, then fell down and curled into a ball before he died.

  I saved the one kicking the watcher for last because I didn’t want to give my quarry a chance to run away while I dealt with the other two. The Hagg never looked up, despite the booming gunfire. He was in a rage and determined to kill his victim.

  “You should have used your stupid Hagg rifle,” I said as I advanced closer and closer.

  Sensing me, he finally stood back, but didn’t turn immediately. I shot him in the back of his head and he fell across the watcher.

  “Is that decisive enough, X?”

  “Would you like me to put a gold star in your file, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “The sniper is getting up. Please take action to secure him.”

  “Don’t move,” I shouted. “I’m not playing this game.”

  The watcher finished shoving away the dead Hagg soldier, and stood up. “Kill me if you’re going to kill me!”

  I took a step toward him, careful to stay out of hand-to-hand combat range. He was stupid enough to try and disarm me.

  “Listen, the roles are reversed. There is no way in hell you can win now. I need information and you need to live. Let’s make a deal.”

  “Who says I need to live? You killed everyone I cared about. Wiped out my squad. Slaughtered civilians.”

  “That wasn’t me.”

  “It was one of you,” he said. “And that’s the same thing.”

  “Human’d!” shouted someone behind me.

  I turned and fired.

  The watcher fled.

  A squad of Hagg soldiers nearly as ragged looking as the first I’d met took cover behind a burnt out car and returned fire. I ran after the watcher, scooping up the HDK II as I passed it.

  16

  The watcher moved like a man on a mission—like he was fleeing the really
pissed off Last Reaper. I caught up to him on the third corner then paced him, looking over my shoulder for Hagg pursuit from time to time. Sweat poured down my back as the day warmed up. Twice I saw actual human refugees duck back into doorways.

  “They want no part of this excrement display,” X-37 said.

  “Shit show. You’re trying to say this is a shit show.”

  “I said exactly what I intended to say. I’m a machine. That’s how I work,” X-37 said. “Why are you not closing on your prey and making more fruitless demands for answers.”

  “He’s headed somewhere. Maybe he has a hideout loaded with food, food, and food. Or even guns with ammunition,” I said.

  I searched for other survivors or anything that had survived the collapse of Maglan society and spotted the contrail of a ship high above. That was definitely new.

  “You said food three times.”

  “Yeah, X. I did. Run a scan. Did I miss something? What’s up with the contrail. Has to be from a ship, right?”

  “Correct,” X-37 said. “It could be a local survivor, an Oroth ship, a Hagg ship, or something belonging to Scheid.”

  “The possibilities are endless,” I grumbled.

  “Sarcasm detected. I am doing my best.”

  “This guy is running us in circles.” I checked my back trail, looked ahead for ambushes, and made a decision. “We’re done with this goat fornication.

  “I detect zero goats or other livestock in this area,” X-37 said. “Could you explain—”

  “No. Forget that one,” I said. “I have all the weapons now. This guy better talk if he knows what is good for him.”

  X didn’t argue so I ran at the fleeing sniper and shoved him down. He rolled to his feet but I already had a pistol aimed at him.

  “Last chance, and I do mean your very last chance.”

  He stomped toward me, hands spread like a street tough from my old neighborhood. “Shoot me. Do it! I’m as tired of this bullshit as you are.”

  “Godsdammit.” I holstered the weapon and kicked him in the chest, throwing him backward.

  He pushed himself up.

  I jumped on his back, hooked my legs under his, and flatted him out. Once he was prone, I cranked on the helmet until it came off.