This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, organizations, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
VIRION: THE BLOODLUST
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2018 by R.L.M. Sanchez
https://www.rlmsanchez.com/
Cover Art by Michal Kváč
Edited by Amber Richberger
ISBN-13: 978-1977769329
ISBN-10: 1977769322
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
First Printing: October 2018
First Edition: October 2018
“Revenge may be wicked, but it is natural.”
-William Makepeace Thackeray
CONTENTS
The Burning Trees
1 Games, Games, Here are the Games!
2 Home-Field Advantage
3 Panic at the Sol
4 Sol-Fate
5 Opportunists
6 One Sol, Two Fates
7 Woes in a Paddock
8 The Maneater
9 Warp One Racing: Live!
10 Dillon: The Infiltrator Part I
11 Dillon: The Infiltrator Part II
12 Click
13 The Red Fields
14 Martian Versus Revente
15 Sword of the Council
16 He Who Watches
17 A Clouded Path
18 False Symbol
19 They Call, You Answer
About the Author
THE BURNING TREES
Fire encircled the village as if at the gates of hell itself. The hunter blinked several times, the heat already drying out his eyes. He ran to the edge of the hill, seeing the flames below; he indeed saw only hell.
Every cabin burned. The roads void of life. His son arrived behind him panting only slightly. A child’s eyes couldn’t comprehend.
“Pa…?” the boy whimpered.
Even the hunter was unsure of his duty when he had just failed his first. A sharp scream came from the village, a woman. The scream didn’t sound of fear but rather pain. The hunter had seen enough. He quickly looked to his son.
“Down the hill and quick, boy. Help anyone you can!” The boy only nodded, still in a daze.
He couldn’t ask him to be fearless, but he could remind him of his goal. The hunter grabbed his shoulder tightly. “Listen to me.” It was hard for him to speak to his son as he was about to. Not even he was ready. “If you see it down there, you don’t even think about it. Just aim your gun and empty both barrels into him, you understand?” The boy’s eyes trembled and misted. “Do you understand?!”
“Yes, Pa.” The boy went west and the hunter south of the village. The hunter tried to follow any screams but the few he heard were fading. He stood in a small crossroad, cabins and huts in every direction. He put his arm to his face. The heat was something intense. He knew it was impossible. There had to be somebody left.
“Anybody?!” he yelled. Only the return of crackling wood and collapsing roofs answered. But then a scream turned to a cry. He moved quickly. Rounding corner after corner, and making his way deeper into the village, he found a woman sitting just inside of her front door weeping and screaming. He saw her holding her two children, lifeless dolls, mauled and bloodied. She couldn’t hear any words from him even if he spoke. He kept expecting to wake up but he remained conscious in the evilest of planes. How could it do all of this…? His thoughts did not calm him. Horrified, he continued into the heart of the village.
He saw another body, its back mauled with a pool of blood underneath. He heard another groan from a nearby house and saw a man crawling out face down. The hunter offered a hand and turned him over to see half of his face gone, skull and muscle visible. The creature had left its mark well. He had to keep going. He found a family barely making it out of their burning home, coughing from the plumes of smoke. He pulled them to the middle of the road.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he pleaded. “Did you see it?” They looked at each other as if he spoke a foreign dialect. “Did you see it?!” They looked around to see the nightmare. He wouldn’t get answers from them. Few survivors remained. Combing through the village, he found his son again with even more survivors.
“Pa, I found more!” the boy said with a handful of people behind. “Some are going to the river to fetch water.”
“There’s a good boy,” he said as he nudged his son’s shoulder. “There’s more towards the south end. Go make sure they’re alright. No one can be alone right now.”
“Yes, sir.” The boy scurried along, always obedient. Another villager ran up to the hunter, panting with a shotgun in hand. His clothes were covered in soot, his face black from the ash and smoke. “Hunter!” he said.
“The village? Where are the villagers?!” the hunter asked.
“Eleven survivors on the eastern edge…” he panted.
“And the rest?!” The man only shook his head.
“I’ll gather everyone in the hall.” The man walked off to help who he could. The hunter walked to the edge of town, his rifle hanging low in his arms. He rubbed his watering eyes. All he could hear was crying. Screaming. Pain and suffering. He looked to the nearby mountains. Even in the black of night, the flames illuminated them. Standing on a rock formation overlooking the village was the massive creature. The man-eater, the mountain killer. The hunter’s eyes widened in fear, his lower lip trembled. His failure stared straight back at him and only him, with its red eyes shining through the flames. The creature turned back into the refuge of the mountains. Its size made it a living monster. Its insatiable thirst made it a legend of the wood.
The last wolf.
1
GAMES, GAMES, HERE ARE THE GAMES!
“Come now, come quick! Come together for the greatest collection of lights, sights, sounds, rhythm, and bloodshed!”
McKenna's team walked past the hype man rallying the thousands of spectators at the gates of the compound. The entrance was only the beginning as the real collection of games and festivities were deep underground. They were formed from the extensive tunnel systems of New York City, although many of them didn't remain but were replaced by massive arenas and complexes.
“A quick moment of sincerity, if you will. Sponsored teams must have their Blue ID bands ready at the gate. If you're a gambler, please have your Red ID bands at the ready. Spectators, have your Green ID bands at the ready. If you're shit out of luck on any of those, feel free to watch the holoboards in various locations around the Red City. Step into the world of chance, entertainment, and testament and again, welcome to The Red Sector Games!” Whistling and cheering followed.
They brushed by numerous bystanders either waiting to be let in through the gates or crowding to watch the massive holoscreens above the streets. A rock could be thrown and hit five people before reaching the ground. Of course, the crowd was doing a decent job of making way for McKenna's group when they saw his Bot companion, backing up at first sight of him.
“Yes, be afraid, squishies,” Humphries muttered. “I could assist you reach your doom at any given interval!”
“Not very subtle anymore, is he?” Dill mumbled.
“I’ve given up trying to keep him socially docile,” McKenna said.
“What's a squishy anyways?” Kimmy asked as she walked cl
oser to the group, petting the dog that was following them.
“The Homo-Sapient is comprised of over sixty percent H2O, comprising of soft muscles, organs, and layered dermis, giving them the outward feeling of being—”
“Squishy…” Dill said as he frowned at the bystanders.
“Whatever. Let’s just make it past this crowd of skinbags, yeah?” McKenna said.
“Agreed, the BO down here is ridiculous,” Kimmy said as she scratched the dog’s ear. “Say, McKenna, what did you name this little guy?”
“Huh?” McKenna said as he looked at the dog, who returned an excited look, his tail wagging and tongue hanging. “Oh, I hadn’t given it much thought.”
“Decided to bring the mutt along and don’t even have the decency to name him?” Dill scoffed.
“What’s wrong with Dog?” McKenna said.
“What are you, a cave man? You got to give him a name!” Kimmy said. McKenna looked at the dog and his rough appearance. Humphries mentioned he was wild, part wolf even, but the dog hardly resembled any breed whatsoever. His skin was inflamed in some spots and mostly bald, but he was looking better after a recent bath. Considering most of the underdwellers eat all ranges of animals, the dog was lucky to be alive. McKenna looked at the dog’s teeth and saw the full set still present and strong.
“How about Ripper?” McKenna said.
“Naming him after your gun? How cute,” Kimmy chuckled.
“Not the worst name,” Dill added.
Humphries was quick to give his input. “Given the canine’s nature of an undercity feral, I believe the master was trying to convey the dog’s savage tendencies in its ability to rip flesh from bone with its well-adapted teeth and claws.”
“Nice, the bot knows me better than you two do,” McKenna said as he nudged Humphries’s shoulder, making a clank. The bot wasn’t accustomed to human gestures; the bot looked at his shoulder, not entirely sure what the gesture meant.
“Come on, Ripper!” Kimmy said. The dog took to his new alias quickly. He ran up to Kimmy and nuzzled her hand. “Ah, he likes it! Have to go with the name the dog actually likes. It’s like, a rule.”
“Let’s keep it moving, yeah?” Dill said as they waded through the crowd.
Speakeasy was in radio contact with the team, should they need assistance. He was already deep inside the compound with the other brokers. Although there was a city-wide faction ceasefire now, Hasker took no chances with his prized information brokers and wouldn’t risk their travel by normal means.
“Just keep moving to the gate,” Speakeasy said through the radio. “The Blue bands should let you skip the major lines. Past the gate, just proceed down the first flights of stairs until you reach the executive lift. From there, it's the main grounds. If you get lost, Wordkeepers should help guide you. Reluctantly, of course.” Speakeasy had outfitted the entire team Blue bands, as well as the Green spectator bands and even the Red gambling bands should any of the team feel inclined to use them.
“McKenna, can you hear me?” Johns said over the radio, somewhat garbled.
“Go ahead, Johns.”
“McKenna, Hasker has all kinds of crazy tech down there. We're going to lose radio contact with you once you enter the underground, but we'll be watching you through the broadcasts. Good luck, sir.”
“I second that, sir!” Swan added.
“Thanks, guys.”
“And boys, don't go betting against me in Sol-Fate,” Kimmy said. “Okay?!”
“Yes, ma’am!” Swan and Johns said nervously in unison.
McKenna and the team approached a large scanner outside the tunnel leading down. Several scanners activated to read the ID bands. As the scanning beams hovered over them, they were cleared one at a time and pressed forward. Once the final person was scanned, the computer spoke in a deep synthetic voice.
“Team roster: complete. Welcome to The Red Sector Games, Team: MARTIAN GREYS.” Dill rubbed his eyes in embarrassment when he heard the team name for the first time. Kimmy, on the other hand, was ecstatic.
“Yes! He did it!” Kimmy shouted.
“You had Speakeasy name us after old folklore aliens?” McKenna said.
“You like it?! Matches your background, don't it, McKenna?” Kimmy winked as she nudged his arm.
“Maybe you should’ve named the dog,” McKenna said sarcastically.
“Can we please keep it going?” Dill said.
The team embarked the elevator at the bottom with the two guards eyeballing Humphries. The bot didn’t have the greatest disguise, still donning the bowler and ragged poncho, and tended to draw more attention to himself. But, with the oddities already in the undercity, a ServoBot wasn’t too alarming in the end, but no one had to know he was a Combat Bot with an unshackled AI. The elevator moved quickly but made a quiet squeak just loud enough to pierce the ears.
“No weapons checks, no shakedowns, no lip,” McKenna mumbled. “Funny, considering The Games commands a ceasefire between gangs. Why tempt everyone?”
“Everyone’s allowed a sidearm of sorts. Freedom of the underground, ya know?” Kimmy said. “Super abnormal things or a bomb would’ve stopped you at the scanners, believe me. I tried to smuggle a cake through security first year. Greenhorn Wordkeepers insisted it was a plastic explosive. It took an hour to get through.”
“What did you have in it really?” Dill asked. Kimmy only shrugged. “The cake, what did you smuggle in it?”
“I just felt like eating a cake during half-time.”
The elevator came to a halt as they reached the bottom. Muffled fanfare, music, and mass populace could be heard through the doors. They stepped out of the elevator and out an airlock to which they were greeted by a large holoscreen depicting a breather-free zone indicated by a smiley face removing his breather to reveal a cigarette-smoking smiley face. The loud noise of the music mixed with the conversations of thousands was thunderous and overwhelming, giving the true feel of a mass stadium event. Kimmy took the lead and a deep breath of air.
“Ah, fresh air!” Kimmy said as they started wading through large crowds. Dill looked around the area and noticed smoke exhaust coming from many of the shops, restaurants, and lounges. Coupled with the intense body odor of the many people about, the odor of cheaply fried foods was anything but welcoming.
“I don’t think that’s fresh air, Kim,” Dill said.
McKenna couldn’t help but comment as well as he looked at the huge area. “Someone’s ass, more likely.”
“Or everyone’s,” Dill chuckled.
“This is to be expected, detectives,” Humphries said as he squinted at many of the people about. “The Homo-Sapiens are walking vessels of pestilence and putrid odors.” Kimmy stopped a passing cotton candy vendor and paid him for a bundle.
“Oh, come on, guys,” Kimmy said as she ate a mouthful of the fluffy candy, her words garbled by the fluffy sweet. “Sure, The Games might invite and welcome the scum of the Earth, but it’s really a sight like no other!”
They noticed a small commotion up ahead with a crowd already forming. Two factions were bickering violently. Hasker’s Wordkeepers and Wargame’s gangers were in a heated rebuke with several men on each side, backing their respective sides. It was odd to see the two enemies simply talking rather than outright murdering each other, but The Red Sector Games demanded special rules concerning the peace of factions.
“I says he took it, so I says he gives it back, blue!” the Wargame conscript shouted.
“I didn’t take shit!” the Keeper returned. “You smacked into me, asshole! It ain’t my fault you can’t find your ass from a hole in the ground!”
The two sides began barking out words, both sides holding back to avoid a fight. Kimmy took another bite of the cotton candy and watched, what was to her, entertainment.
“Fat lip, blue man! I sees me shiny shiv on your belt there!”
“It’s a pocket watch, numb-nuts!” the Keeper said as he took out the watch, dangling it. “You tell time wi
th it! You know, time? Like time you fuck off out of here?!” A Wordhunter stepped forward as well as a Wargame lieutenant.
“What is this?” the Wordhunter said. “What, your boys can’t play nice for one night, red?”
“My man said your boy stole his sticka, his favorite knife,” the lieutenant said.
“I don’t see any stolen blade. Your man is mistaken. You don’t need it anyways, so get moving and get back to your kind, red.” The Wargame lieutenant stepped forward in anger, his rotten teeth grinning through his mouth.
“You’ve got some nerve, blue man! You thinks you’re betta than us, don’t ya? What makes you thinks you got authority over us? Your shiny armor and clean skull?!”
“This is Hasker’s fuckin’ house, red, and you’ll play by his rules, you know that.”
“Ha-ha! Hide behind the ceasefire while ya can, blue man. You’ll get what’s a comin’.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” The lieutenant whistled and began to walk away with his conscripts, ending the argument. “Big things is comin’, blue man, so no hard feelings ‘till then. Ha-ha!” The Wordhunter stared as the conscripts walked into the massive crowd before eventually shaking his head and dispersing his group. McKenna looked to Dill.
“What the hell was that last bit?” McKenna said.
“Hard to say,” Dill said. “The Games don’t just mark a time of fun for psychos. It’s what happens after The Games have ended, after the ceasefire.”
“Back to business as usual?” McKenna said as he looked at numerous passers-by.
“Not quite,” Kimmy mumbled as cotton candy stuffed her mouth. “Think of post-games as payback. The gangs are so pride heavy that all-out war follows. Hasker didn’t design this to bring us all together and get cozy like. He made it to thin every gang and faction. Keeps sides from getting too powerful. And it’s worked, so far.”
“Once that ceasefire lifts, you’ll see a lot of gangers looking to get even topside.” Dill scoffed.
The team continued walking. The Sol-Fate card tournament was to start in a few hours and Kimmy had to be present at the preliminary match-ups. The Games arena comprised of three levels, the second of which McKenna’s team was currently on and acted as a hub as well as the house for the enormous Warp One race track in the middle. Holoscreens were displayed everywhere, broadcasting the events.
The Bloodlust: (Volume Three of the Virion Series) Page 1
