The hangar was so large that it took him two whole minutes just to cross the open floor. By the time he reached the equipment lift, Chambers had already gone berserk and shot two of the technicians. Jacob panted with sweat running down his back. He shouted at Chambers in outrage when he saw him smashing the satellite-grid controller with a fire extinguisher. What the hell was wrong with him? He was the most stupid commander Jacob had ever encountered - and also the luckiest. What did he hope to achieve by doing that? He was nothing more than a fool leaving a trail of unnecessary destruction behind him.
Jacob ground his teeth. He was still too far away to stop Chambers. All he could do was run. He knew something was wrong when he saw Chambers leap out of the lift with that desperate look in his eyes. Jacob slid to a halt, fearing the worst. He raised his arm, signalling for the others to stay back, but they were already running past him in their race towards Chambers. What had the fool done now? Endless possibilities raced through Jacob's mind.
'Get down', Jacob shouted.
Immediately, he found himself thrown off his feet. He held his arms in front of his face to deflect a blast of hot air. His head spun as he boots rose high over his head, and he grunted with pain when he crashed hard on the ground, sliding along on his back. One of his soldiers landed nearby, his head hitting the stone floor with an audible crack. Blood poured from his nose as his body went limp.
Jacob rolled onto his front, his ears filled with a hissing noise that wouldn't stop. He had been lucky this time. His personal force field had been able to deflect the worst of the blast, but it was a miracle that he had remembered to turn it on. Other than a few scuffs and bruises he was in good shape compared to those around him.
Half of his squad climbed to their feet, picking up their weapons as they rubbed at injured shoulders and knees. The others lay scattered about the hangar floor, dead. Jacob cursed. He knew he should have been more careful. Even fools got lucky sometimes. Who was this bloody Chambers anyway? And why was he here? Whoever he was, he had already killed Isor and injured Roy. Jacob intended to pay him back in full.
Jacob shook his head as he climbed to his feet. The hissing sound had reduced but it hadn't stop. He could see that the satellite-grid controller had been reduced to little more than a jigsaw of twisted metal pieces. Roy would be furious when he found out what had happened.
Chambers was lying on the floor some distance away. Jacob hoped he was dead, but even as the thought sprang up in his mind, Chambers turned over and slowly staggered to his feet. Jacob was livid. He ran towards Chambers, letting out a roar of fury. As soon as he was within range, he swung a mighty kick towards Chamber's head.
+ + +
Nick ached in every possible way. He was exhausted and finding it hard to breathe. There were Kamari soldiers lying dead all around him but others were climbing back to their feet. One of them looked particularly furious. His eyes raged. He came running towards Nick, as fast as his stocky physique would let him. When he was close enough, he threw a rather obvious high kick towards Nick's head. Nick darted backwards narrowly avoiding the blow. He jerked himself upright and held his fists in front of him, preparing for a fight.
The soldier just laughed, his eyes shining with malice. 'Do you know who I am, chambers?'
Nick shook his head.
'You killed my brother. Does that give you a clue?'
'I kill a lot of people's brothers. It's not my fault if they join the wrong side.'
The soldier's eyes narrowed. 'I'm Jacob Helleron. Remember my name when you die.'
Nick bunched his fists, wishing he had remembered to carry a knife. 'I've forgotten it already. You're nothing to me.'
Jacob approached with a feral grin, 'Let's see how you fight, Chambers. The time for words is over.' His fists came flying, swift and accurate.
Nick tried to block with his forearms but he was too exhausted to fight back. He managed a couple of glancing blows of his own, but they lacked power. Jacob was wild eyed. He didn't even notice the punches. Nick found his combat training useless because he just didn't have the strength or energy left to execute it. All he could do was block. His arms already stung from repeated blows. His ribs ached with the punches that he had failed to block.
The other soldiers laughed and stamped their feet as they gathered in a circle around them. Nick had no time to look at them. He was just hoping they weren't going to join in. It didn't matter. Jacob didn't need their help anyway. It was obvious he was skilled at unarmed combat, and he was fresh, full of the power and energy to apply his technique. The Kamari soldiers cheered and thrust their hands in the air as their leader took Nick apart, piece by piece.
It wasn't looking good. Nick got in a quick strike, pushing Jacob back, but then he noticed blood on his arms and his thoughts became hazy. Jacob was back already. Nick punched and kicked, but most of his blows were easily deflected. They lacked power because he was so exhausted. He was too slow. He knew that. At his best he could fight a lot better than this, but he was far from his best right now. He just needed a minute or two to regroup his thoughts and catch his breath. His opponent gave him no time at all.
Nick tried to dodge yet another blow but he caught it between his swollen eyes. He wasn't sure how long he had been fighting; he wasn't even sure if he was still fighting at all. Maybe he was already dead. His head jerked from side to side until he felt it might snap off. He found it difficult to breathe with blood streaming from his nose and mouth.
He stumbled, and had to spread his feet wide to avoid falling. His legs waved like long grass in a high wind. Jacob slammed his heel down on the side of Nick's exposed knee, smashing the joint inwards. The blow was so vicious, Nick barely had the time to cry out before collapsing in a bloody heap on the floor.
He heard something bounce on the floor nearby, and when he turned to see what it was, he saw the carved wooden flower that he had been making for Lisa's birthday. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he had fallen. Nick reached towards it with shaking fingers as his blood pooled out around him. The agony of his shattered knee raged through his mind. He had little doubt that if he hadn't been so dazed, the pain would have been even worse.
He had to give Lisa her flower. It would be her birthday soon - or had it already been and gone? Nick dragged himself across the floor towards it, his eyes almost swollen shut. He just had to reach a little further.
A boot stamped down on the flower, crushing its delicate petals. Nick stared at the broken carving as a fire burned inside him. He couldn't stop the tears from his escaping his swollen eyes.
'Hey, Chambers,' Jacob said.
Nick lifted his head and saw the muzzle of an impact pistol pointing towards him.
'Say goodbye, Chambers.'
The pistol fired and Nick's chest imploded. The shock brought the room into clear focus around him. The soldiers were gathered around him, watching him with knowing smiles. It was too much for his battered mind to take anymore. He slumped back onto the floor as his blood leaked out, leaving him feeling cold and alone. His eyes lost focus as a curtain of darkness fell over him.
Desperate Acts
Cold seeped into Rachel's bones as her blood spilled out across the basement floor. There was too much blood. There couldn't be much left inside her. An urgency pulled at her thoughts, but it was too late. She had failed. Life flowed out of her until she couldn't tell whether she was dead or alive anymore. The pain was coming back again. It had gone away for a while, but now it returned with an intensity that made her want to cry. She had to be silent. She couldn't remember why.
She realised after a time, that she was conscious again. Her heart was filled with sadness. She knew she would soon bleed to death if no-one helped her. The cold wet basement would be her final resting place - the tomb that sealed her fate. Something pulled at her thoughts, memories started tumbling into place. She was lying on the floor in the research labs of the Mekinet News building. She had come to kill Riser Trent, but instead, somebody had killed h
er. But the pain hadn't stopped. Shouldn't the pain have stopped if she was already dead?
A form of clarity returned to her. The humming sound was a generator. The orange glow was the inside of her eyelids, semi-transparent in the room's bright lights. She risked opening one eye, squinting into the light. Her vision was unfocussed. When she tried to lift her head, agony raged through her ruined back. She had to bite down on her lip to remain silent as tears formed in her eyes.
After a time, the pain receded to its previous intolerable levels. Rachel bit her lip, trying not to think about how badly injured she was. When her vision cleared, she saw that Riser Trent was still sitting in his chair, facing away from her. Another man now stood beside him tapping at a projected keypad on the desk in front of him. His blue overalls were stretched tight over his broad shoulders and tree-trunk legs. When he turned sideways, she noticed that his overalls were covered in blood. He was the man that had stabbed her. She was sure of it. His strength had been incredible, lifting her off the ground with one arm, while cutting her open with the other. She wondered which man was which. Maybe he was Riser Trent and the other man was someone else? Rachel realised how naive she had been to assume that Riser would be alone and unprotected. She hadn't had time to think it through. She had been rushing to save her father, and when she had found him dead on the levels above, her mind had gone to pieces. She had stumbled onwards, thinking she could go on as before, but her common sense and combat training had deserted her when she needed it most.
With dismay, she noticed that her impact pistol was now on lying on the desk. It might as well have been at the bottom of a well as far as she was concerned. There was no way she could drag her broken body far enough to retrieve it. She had no way to get past the two men in front of her either. She had failed completely. Any moment now, the big man in the overalls would turn and see her looking at him, and when he did, there was nothing she could do to stop him killing her. She could barely move at all.
With an enormous effort, she managed to slip one hand into her jacket's inside pocket. Fresh agony exploded in her back each time she moved her arm. She clenched her teeth, ignoring the sweat that trickled down her forehead into her eyes. Taking long, slow breaths, she waited for the pain to subside before trying to move again.
Her body was getting colder and yet sweat still formed on her cheeks and forehead. Rachel tried not to think about how horrific her injuries must be. She remembered hearing something crunch when the knife had slipped inside her. The sound still haunted her along with the jarring she had felt in her spine. Death was never far from her mind. Each time the thought she might slip into unconsciousness, she forced herself to stay alert. Her daughter still needed her. She didn't have the luxury of dying. When the pain subsided, she tried to move again.
The man in the overalls turned, glancing over his shoulder. Had he heard her moving?! His casual glance became one of alarm when he saw that she wasn't dead. His eyes were like black beads in a hard, expressionless face. Muscles rippled in his neck as he spun around to face her. He slapped one hand on Riser's shoulder, causing him to jerk backwards as though punched before letting out an unnerving, tormented howl. Rachel felt sick just listening to it. He seemed to be in some incredible pain of his own, but she had no time to worry about that. Whatever pain he felt was no more than he deserved anyway.
Rachel focussed her mind, trying to replicate what she had done to Gail Thompson in her office, but she didn't know what she had done, and she didn't know how to make it to happen again. She struggled within herself, searching for answers that weren't there. There was no time. Frantically, she tugged at her inside pocket, grabbing the first thing that she could find. Her fingers wrapped around the small Taser that Raisson had used against her. It wasn't what she was hoping for, but she knew first-hand just how effective it could be. Her shaking hands found it hard to even lift the device, never mind aim it, but somehow she managed to point and fire.
The man in the overalls twisted to one side and the dart bounced off the ceiling before falling to the ground on the other side of the desk. His eyes narrowed as he whipped out a long hunting knife. Rachel's eyes clung to its serrated edge in panic. Was that the knife he had used to cut her open? She almost passed out with fear. It was eight inches long and the blade was thick with sharp serrations leading up to a vicious barbed point. Blood still stained the tip of the otherwise shiny blade.
'What the fuck are you doing, Damen?' Riser said, pulling the cap from his head and slamming it down on the desk. 'You almost gave me a heart attack!'
He stared at the impact pistol on his desk and then turned to the man in the boiler suit with wide eyes. His face was white and clammy, and his lips were trembling. Rachel couldn't tell whether he was just angry or having some kind of fit.
'We have company,' Damen said, gesturing towards Rachel.
He took a step towards her as she fired the Taser again, and this time his dodge was too late. She was aiming at his chest but her hands were shaking so much that the small double-tipped dart hit him in the eye. It released a massive surge of electricity through his head, causing him to shudder and rock back on his heels. Steam rose from his bubbling bloody eye socket and his mouth gaped open with his tongue thrashing from side to side. Finally, his knees gave way, tipping him sideways onto the stone floor. His head slapped the ground as he landed. He struggled at first, as though he might get up again, but then he collapsed and lay still.
Rachel turned away, squeezing tears from her eyes. She could hear Riser typing frantically on his keypad. When she turned to face him, his eyes were wide, but he made no attempt to attack her. She wondered what was wrong with him? He had been connected to that expensive-looking equipment on his desk, but now he turned to face her with fear in his eyes. This had to be Riser Trent, the monster who had killed her father and threatened to launch a satellite strike on Cinnamon City. This was the man who had killed Edwards and so many others. He had caused countless deaths with his irresponsible actions during the Battle of Havers Compound. She had to put an end to this while she still could.
Rachel aimed the Taser at Riser's head and pulled the trigger. Her arms were still shaking. The Taser slipped in her hands just as the shot was released. The dart grazed his shoulder before ricocheting into a small black box on his desk. A bright flash flooded the room and smoke plumed up towards the ceiling. All Riser's consoles went blank.
Riser shook in his chair. He screamed at Rachel, wild words tangled together until she couldn't tell what he was saying. He sat side-on to her, struggling with his chair. Grabbing the impact pistol from the desk, he aimed it towards her.
Rachel had no choice. She fired again. The Taser dart struck him in his outstretched arm. Riser cried out, and the pistol slipped from his hand. It bounced at an odd angle, landing on the floor between them.
His thick jacket seemed to save him from the worst of the jolt. For a time, he shuddered, rocking back and forth in his chair. His arms swung around, knocking him free from the desk. He slapped at his arm with his free hand until the dart fell onto the floor. Rachel noticed his jacket had caught fire. Thin flames licked up the side of his arm, and smoke rose up towards the ceiling. He looked like he was beginning to regain control of his body. He turned to face her, but he didn't get up.
Rachel wondered why he still hadn't attacked her. He was a big man with strong arms and she was lying helpless on the floor. He was so enraged that it took him a while to notice that his arm was on fire. His jacket's thick insulation must have kept the initial heat from his skin. Rachel dragged herself across the floor, sliding through her own slick blood to increase the distance between them. He made no attempt to follow her. Instead, he beat at the flames on his arm with little effect.
'What have you done to me, you bitch?' He screamed. The flames had now caught hold of the front of his jacket too. He struggled to take it off but he couldn't seem to get out of his chair. Rachel wondered why he didn't just stand up and take his jacket off. Why didn'
t pick up the impact pistol and shoot her? He didn't look as though he was going to do either of those things. With a horrible shock, she suddenly realised why. His upper body was strong and muscular like the other man's, but his legs... his legs were emaciated sticks, crippled beyond all use. She hadn't seen his legs when they were under the desk but now that he had turned to face her, she could see there was no way he had ever been able to walk.
Rachel stared at him with the terrible realisation of what she had done. His jacket was engulfed in flames. His beard was sizzling and his neck was blistering under the heat. He wasn't able to stand up and run away from the fire. He was a prisoner in his own chair. His screams pierced her more than the knife had done. She wanted to cover her eyes and ears to get away from what she had done - but she couldn't. Tears welled in her eyes as she dragged herself towards the door.
The room was already filling with dense black smoke. Riser's jacket was enveloped in flames. His screams grew ever more frantic. Rachel could hear his chair scraping across the floor as he climbed down from his chair and tried to crawl after her with his useless legs dangling behind him. She closed her mind to the horrors around her, focussing on using her elbows to move more quickly across the ground. When she made it into he hallway outside, she used her last remaining energy to push the door shut behind her, leaning her ruined back against it to keep it closed. Her back hurt like hell, but it was nothing compared to the anguish that ravaged her broken mind. She could hear Riser's screams going on and on without end through the door behind her.
Rachel held her hands over her ears, ignoring the tears that spilt down her cheeks. 'Stop it!' she cried, 'Stop it! Stop it! For God's sake, stop it!'
Information Cloud: Science fiction and fantasy series (Tales of Cinnamon City Book 1) Page 30
