REV: REV Warriors Book 1

by T. R. Harris

  It had been deathly quiet only moments before. Now brave insects and other creatures were making their presence known, through a symphony of buzzing, clicks and whistles. The jungle was coming alive, and soon larger beasts would come to investigate the invader to their world.

  With a deep sigh, Zac stood up, still shaky and uncertain from his long layup. He needed to get a camp formed and a fire going—even in the heat of jungle. Hopefully the flames would keep the creatures of the night at bay.

  This was Day One of Zac Murphy’s new life. He had to make sure he survived to Day Two, and every day from then on, until….

  “So you’re just going to leave him down there?” asked Arnie Patel, incredulously.

  “That depends on you, doctor,” Col. Diamond answered.

  “Me?”

  “That’s right. On how your program turns out.”

  Arnie was confused. “My program? I thought all I was supposed to do is test the other 351-Cs? Are you saying that if I find more people like Zac that you’ll do away with all this nonsense and take him off the planet?”

  The Marine officer looked down at the smaller, pudgy man and frowned. “Nonsense? Do you even realize what we have here? You saw it with your own eyes. We had a fully charged REV who didn’t activate. Hell, even his eyes didn’t turn red.”

  “Not until you increased the dosage beyond any reasonable level, and with deadly consequences,” Patel countered. The two men had argued this point ad nauseum for months.

  “That’s beside the point. When he did get the standard dosage, he looked just like the rest of us. Do you know what that means? It means he could walk down any city street and no one would have a clue how dangerous he is, not until he snapped. We had an activated REV who failed to activate.”

  “I would imagine you’d prefer that to the raving maniac you send out to kill everything he sees. This is an enhanced human being with superior abilities, and he’s able to control the rage.”

  “That’s exactly the problem, doctor,” Diamond barked back. “He controls it, not us. When we activate a REV—a normal REV—we know exactly when he’ll turn, and we control how long he remains activated. As long as we stay out of his way, everything is copacetic. With the damping influence of the naturally-occurring NT-4, we lose that control.”

  “So this is all about how best to use your magnificent weapon,” Arnie stated.

  “Of course it is!” Diamond growled. “I’ve been part of the oh-351 program for several years now, working with Cross and the others. I’ve seen all its incarnations, but we never imagined someone like Murphy coming from it. You’re a doctor; can you explain how his body was able to spontaneously begin producing the drug on its own?”

  “It’s obviously a mutation of some sort,” Patel answered. “He needs NT-4 to survive, and his body responded by giving it what it needs to survive—not to kill. He doesn’t cascade out of control while on natural NT-4. That only happens with the synthetic, while you’re in control, as you say. But now, with training and counseling, Zac may be able to return to normal society—”

  The officer laughed. “Bullshit, Patel, this makes him even more dangerous. If it were up to me, Gunnery Sergeant Murphy would never leave that planet.”

  Arnie’s frustration reached the breaking point. “You do realize he could be the first of a new breed of human, if his ability to produce natural NT-4 can be passed on to his offspring? Isn’t that something worth our respect and care?”

  Diamond’s eyes opened wider, almost manic-looking. “Do you hear what you’re saying? I, for one, don’t welcome the idea of a bunch of crazed supermen with latent homicidal tendencies walking the face of the Earth. Give me a break, Patel.”

  “You make him out to be some kind of monster,” Arnie snapped back. “If he is, then we created him.”

  “And that matters…why?”

  Arnie let out a loud sigh. “So you’re just going to leave him on that rock to die.”

  The Marine intelligence officer twisted the corners of his mouth into a smirk. “For the time being. If—or when—we learn how to control the beast, he could still be of use to us.” Then Diamond glared at Patel. “And you better get to work finding out if there are others like him out there. We can’t have any more ticking time bombs in the Fleet without us knowing about it. We need to know if we really have created a new breed of human, a stronger, more deadly type of man.”

  Patel met the angry eyes of the Marine officer. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

  An hour later, Colonel Jack Diamond watched a screen in the ship’s CIC as the image shifted from a high vantage point to another, skirting between the tops of huge, exotic-looking trees to get a better look. Murphy was sitting on a cot, looking defeated.

  Diamond smiled. “Keep an eye on him, corporal,” he commanded the enlisted man at the drone controls. “Report anything unusual.”

  “Unusual, sir?”

  “You know what I mean…any superman-like stuff. We need to see how he adapts, overcomes and improvises. For him, it’s a matter of life or death.”

  “Aye, sir. When will we be transferring to the surface?”

  “The op site will be completed in a week. We’ll go then—if he lasts that long.”

  “He’s a Marine, sir; I pity the poor creatures that live on the planet.”

  “We’ll see, corporal. Carry on.”

  It’s the lack of control that troubles me the most. The NT drug was supposed to enhance a subject’s performance, not limit it to only a few simple basic emotions. At this point, I don’t see much a purpose for the drug, even in military operations. David disagrees. He’s younger, with possibly more vision of what the program can become. I hope he’s right. I’m becoming discouraged.

  Journal Entry, Nov. 9, 2071, Dr. Clifford Slater

  10

  Zac began collecting the supplies from the surrounding jungle and stacked them in the center of the charred landing zone. The ground here was mushy and wet, but it was the only open area he could see. He had nine plastic crates and began to fill them with the loose items. This allowed him to inventory his supplies even as he collected them.

  Most of what he’d been left with consisted of small blocks of dehydrated food rations. He placed these in the containers and sealed the lids. He had no idea how long he’d be on the planet, so the rations would be saved as a last resort. He would live off the land for long as he could.

  There was a sleeping bag—just one—and four blankets. He had a solar heater, a water purifier, a hundred-foot length of rope and two solar-powered lamps.

  But wrapped in one of the blankets he hit the jackpot.

  It was a Marine survival kit, plus a few other items carefully packed so as to be hidden from his jailers. These included a twelve-inch long laser-edged hunting blade, along with a two-foot long machete. He also found a trusty black-bladed K-BAR knife.

  He took the survival kit and sat it on the cot next to him. There was a note written in pencil on the canvas pouch.

  I believe in you, the note began. Stay with us. Love, Olivia.

  Even with his murder of Manny Hernandez, she still cared for him.

  He unrolled the kit. Inside was a five-inch-long armband made of mesh and Velcro. On one of the faces was a variety of gauges, including a clock that could be adjusted to any time period, a compass, barometer, range-finder, thermometer, a small signaling mirror and a pencil-sized telescope. Also in a compartment along the length of the band was a first-aid kit made up of a scalpel, needles and sterile thread, plus antiseptic cream and two dollops of morphine. Just everything a boy lost in the woods would need.

  Zac wrapped the band around his left forearm and secured it with Velcro strips. Surprisingly, he felt much better about his prospects looking at the tiny cache of loot he’d found. As a REV, he feared no man. Even in his passive state, he was three to four times stronger, with heightened senses and quicker reactions. And with the natural Rev in his system, he figured he was even more so. But
the creatures on this unknown world were an unknown. Even still, it wasn’t fear he felt, but apprehension. Given time to assess a situation, he was sure he could survive just about anything this planet could throw at him…if he saw it coming.

  He found the snap-up tent in the jungle and set it in the center of the clearing on a bed of huge palm frowns to keep it from sinking into the two-inch thick muck. With a pull of a cord, the one-man survival tent popped into existence. He unzipped the front and moved the cot inside, along with the sleeping bag. It was too hot to sleep in the bag, but it would help to cushion the utilitarian surface of the cot. He hooked one of the lamps to the overhead support pole. He was ready for the night, once he got a fire going.

  He tucked the machete into his utility belt, and with the laser knife in his right hand, went out into the fringe of the jungle to gather wood. Surprisingly, the towering palm-like trees yielded an ample supply of dry wood, once the outer layer of fibrous bark was cut away. When dried, the bark would make excellent kindling.

  He had trouble finding rocks on which to build his fire, but there were a few, mainly boulders weighing several hundred pounds which had failed to sink into the bog. With his REV strength he easily carried three of them to a place outside the tent, and then stacked the wood on top. The porous joining of the stones would provide ample draw for the fire. He used the laser edge of the knife, turned down in intensity, to start the fire. It flared up quickly. In the hot and humid jungle, the heat coming off the fire was nearly unbearable, but Zac could take it. His enhanced skin would insulate him against both hot and cold better than the average Human.

  He scanned the horizon—what he could see of it from within the circular clearing of the landing zone. Far off in the distance were three peaks of a mountain range. The star for this system was beginning to touch the tallest of the peaks and would soon dip below, bringing Zac’s first day on this planet to a close. He entered the tent and zipped it closed. The thick canvas material was designed to resist puncture, in case anything in the night decided to try to get to him. Even so, he kept the fire burning all night, getting up three times to add wood to the flames.

  He slept very little, wakened often by the sloshy sounds of feet or paws in the wet mush outside. As it was with most jungles, it came alive at night, and curious creatures were studying him, taking in his scent, trying to determine where he fit on the food chain.

  Beginning at first light, Zac Murphy would teach the inhabitance of Eliza-3 that there was a new Alpha male in town. They, like many of the species within the Grid, would soon come to learn that you don’t mess with the Humans.

  It was raining the next morning and his fire had gone out since the last time he added wood. But it was light outside and with his enhanced eyesight, he scanned the jungle looking for threats. Everything seemed calm, if not quiet. There were insects and other creatures, including a number of birds, all chirping and squawking for whatever reason.

  Still dressed in his tan and black utilities and ankle-high boots, Zac stepped out onto the mushy ground and pulled a cube of rations from one of the sealed containers. Several of the boxes were moved or overturned, as beasts in the night tried to get inside. Now that he had locked the lids in place, they would remain secure, unless something carried one off into the jungle.

  He walked to a large palm tree and guided a stream of water from one of the frowns into the opening in the cube. The package tore open as the food expanded. It was a bland tasting meat-like substance, but it did the trick. Also, the day before he’d found a sixty-count bottle of vitamin supplements in the rations container. He popped one while contemplating the significance of the pill count. At one-a-day, his jailers didn’t expect him to last more than a couple of months before having to live entirely off the land.

  With his REV metabolism, Zac needed more calories than normal to maintain his lean body mass. With very little fat, he would begin to eat into his muscle very soon. He’d never experienced that before; he’d always been in the care of the Marine Corps and provided with everything he needed. He had about thirty days of standard rations, but that was for a normal Marine. He figured if he had to live off what was provided, he had about ten days of supplies.

  He hiked into the forest, where he came upon several clusters of bamboo-like stalks. Using the laser blade, he cut one of the four-inch thick reeds. Sure enough, it was lightweight and segmented, but also incredibly strong. He cut a two-meter long stalk and sharpened one of the ends into a deadly needle point. With his speed and reactions, this should be enough to secure him a decent meal, if he could find something worth killing.

  And with that, Zac Murphy went on his first hunting expedition for food—ever.

  There was a lot of life in the jungle, including plenty of rabbit-like creatures with pot-bellies. They moved quicker than Earth rabbits, but Zac was able to spear a couple. With blood draining from the wounds and falling to the jungle floor, he began to make his way back to the camp.

  That’s when he heard the soft growl—or growls. In the mid-morning light, the jungle held areas of deep shadow, and in the shadows he saw the yellow eyes staring out at him. The dead rabbits were stuck on the end of his bamboo spear, which he held in his left hand. He gripped the laser knife in his right.

  Zac sensed the first attack coming from his right. He dropped the spear and spun to face his assailant. The beast sprung into the air, falling toward him. In an instance, Zac sized up the creature.

  It was a huge, four-legged beast with a block head like a large pit bull. The mouth was wide and the muscles of the jaw pulled tight and bulged from the thick neck. But what made the animal most terrifying was the set of nine-inch long horns that protruded from its bony forehead. As it dove toward Zac, the mouth remained closed, relying on the horns to make the kill.

  Zac swung the laser knife in front of him, slicing through the stubby snout of the huge dog and cutting the horns in half. A sharp, ear-piercing cry filled the jungle for only a second before the creature fell to the ground, a portion of its brains seeping from the wound.

  The jungle came alive at that point, with the barking and yelping of a dozen other animals. Zac felt hot breath on his shoulder and ducked just in time as other of the deadly hounds came at him from behind. He fell to the soggy floor of the jungle and dropped the laser knife. The animal landed a few feet away, turned and charged again.

  With his quickened reactions, Zac locked his fists around the two horns and twisted the beast onto its back, with him on top. Yellow, beady eyes stared at him from only inches away. Now the mouth opened, revealing inch-long teeth ending in needle points.

  Zac had no problem controlling the huge beast by pressing and twisting the horns, but then a paw lashed out and ripped open the front of his utilities. The sharp claws cut into his flesh, but not too deep. He bled, yet felt little pain.

  Another loud growl came from behind. He rolled, still gripping the horns of the beast but now pointing them upwards. A heavy weight fell on top of him and the first dog, followed by another loud squeal, as the third attacker became impelled on the horns of his pack mate.

  Zac swung the head of the first dog, casting off his latest victim. Then he wrapped his strong legs around the torso of the first dog and twisted the horns until he heard—and felt—its neck snap. The beast stopped struggling.

  Zac shoved both dogs away and stood up, scanning the shadows for more sets of yellow eyes. They were there, along with a cacophony of barking and yipping.

  So Zac barked back.

  The jungle leaves came alive as the surviving members of the pack scurried away, in fear of this new beast that has just killed three of their brethren.

  Zac located his fallen laser knife and tucked it into the sheath on his belt. He looked at the three dead animals forming a circle of death around him. It reminded him a much smaller version of a Run. The two small rabbit-like things on his spear now looked inconsequential compared to the mass of the fallen dogs. But he also knew carnivores like the dogs wo
uld probably be tough and gamey; however, their hides could come in handy, either for clothing or leather strapping.

  He picked up the bamboo spear and ran it through the neck of one of the dead dogs. Then he placed it on his left shoulder before grasping the loose fur of another dog, leaving the third to the jungle. Even with his superior strength, it was a load. Zac was panting by the time he made it back to the camp.

  Zac was born and raised in Palo Alto, California, the son of engineers who worked long hours yet made good money. They were indoor people, who seldom took vacations or communed with nature. As a result, Zac had never gone hunting as a child. Even his basic Marine training was light on survival techniques and completely devoid on how to field dress a kill. Although Zac had killed tens of thousands of aliens in his career, none had been for food. So it seemed odd that this supreme killer now stood over the set of dead animals without a clue what to do next.

  He needed food—meat—so that seemed simple enough. Just scrape off the fur and cut off a chunk of flesh then lay it over the fire until done. But he also wanted the hide. How do you skin an animal? If you’ve never done it before, the task could prove daunting.

  He made a mess of the first horn-dog, ending up with a sickening mass of organs and blood. But he did get a fairly decent-size section of contiguous hide off the animal. He also had a pile of lean meat ready to be cooked. Taking a strip of bamboo from his spear, he stabbed a slice of meat and dangled it over the new fire he’d started.

  The second horn-dog proved easier to gut and skin. He figured in a week or so he’d be an expert, he wasn’t too worried if his technique wasn’t spot-on. Then he set into the rabbit-like animals. They proved easier to work with. Both were pregnant, which accounted for their pot-bellies. He wasn’t sure if he should eat the fetuses, so he set them in the pile of innards which he then moved to the edge of the clearing. Even before he returned to the fire, jungle creatures were fighting over the scraps.