The Bloodlust: (Volume Three of the Virion Series)

by R. L. M. Sanchez

  “They must be out there,” she said. “Cat and mouse, is what you call it?”

  “If only your puns could kill, Doctor.” He rested the rifle on the barrier and started scanning the most obvious vantage points through the rifle scope. He was irritated at the low-powered scope coupled with the high caliber rifle, seeing it as yet another handicap on top of the limited ammo count. It was obvious to him that Hasker was still trying to make things as hard as possible, trying to eliminate him wherever he could through unfair methods.

  The total span of the arena was somewhere around eight hundred meters long and the four-power optic would make it more challenging to see distance. From how tight the buildings were, it might not be too big of an obstacle. She peeked her head out to see as well but when McKenna saw her glancing, he panicked.

  “Get your head down, Doctor. You can't risk it.”

  “Trust me, Marshal, I can see a lot further than you can.”

  The Revente possessed many attributes that made humans inferior, such as higher strength and dexterity, faster metabolism and healing, speed and binocular vision. McKenna was already forgetting but he needed her much more than she needed him. “I don't see anything, no movement,” she said.

  “Too bad you don’t have x-ray vision.” McKenna saw the closest building to him was almost ten stories tall and overlooked a great portion of the arena, a perfect vantage point. He would have to cross a narrow street to get to it, a street that was parallel to the farthest high points, a potential risk if a sniper was posted further down. “I'll bound for that building there,” McKenna pointed. “You stay here and keep low,” he said as he hopped over the barrier and ran to the building.

  “Wait, what if he shoots you?!”

  “We just started. I doubt he's lined up a shot with us already—” McKenna felt a bullet strike his shoulder hard, causing him to spin and almost lose his balance just before he heard the crack of the actual projectile. He stumbled into the building and to safety, putting his back to a wall and breathing heavily.

  “Marshal! Marshal, are you alright?!” U’ldanta shouted. He put his hand to the wound to feel no penetration but a massive bruise. He looked and saw a rubber bullet mushroomed and contorted, still wobbling on the ground outside the door.

  “Bucard…!” McKenna growled.

  “What was that?!”

  “I'm fine, it was a non-lethal bullet! I think I know who we're up against now. Did you see a flash? Anything?”

  “No…” she said as she scanned the horizon.

  “Suppressor… No flash. Should have guessed as much.”

  “Well, if he's using LTL ammo, we haven't much to worry about, right?”

  “This guy is after a fat bounty on my head. I guarantee the next one will be a slug. He's just letting me know he's here. Little prick…”

  “This man doesn't sound too logical, with wasting a shot like that and all when he could’ve killed you or severely wounded you at the least.” McKenna only thought of his last encounter with the sniper, trading his opportunities for his theatrics.

  “Right?!” He looked around the lobby of his building to see an access ladder heading to higher floors. He slung the rifle and started climbing immediately.

  McKenna reached a mid-level floor before the ladder was revealed to be destroyed leading to further levels. He scurried to one of the windows and peeked outside. With great luck, he saw the glint of a scope just hiding under a small patio awning around a hundred meters away. He aimed the rifle, barely having a clear picture with the low-powered scope, but the glint was unmistakable. He exhaled slowly until there was nothing in his lungs and then he squeezed the trigger. The massive blast from the end of the barrel swept back into the small window and cleared out whatever sinuses McKenna may have had as the hot smell of burning powder rushed into his nostrils. The heavy-caliber bullet smashed the glint, causing debris and dust to kick into the air, creating a small explosion. McKenna waited a second to see the smoke clear but didn't see the glint anymore.

  “I don't see anything there, Marshal!” U’ldanta said from below. McKenna looked down the scope again only to see another glint in another corner of his scope. He quickly maneuvered the bulky rifle to aim at the other glint before racking the bolt back to chamber another round. It was the same distance as the previous, only this time located inside of a vent cover with a broken slat. He wasted no time and sent the bullet flying, almost blowing his eardrums from the gunshot. He saw the vent cover explode only to see nothing within. He racked the bolt again before seeing nothing damaged by the shot.

  “What the…” McKenna said.

  “Displace, Marshal!” she shouted, seeing he had already fired twice which advertised his whereabouts to the enemy snipers. He picked up the rifle and turned around to look for a way up. He saw a stone ladder on the adjacent building outside of a nearby window. It was concealed from view, so he knew he'd be somewhat safe from fire. He climbed quickly to get to the roof. Reaching the top, he moved to the edge and took overwatch on the buildings below and in the distance. He saw yet another glint in a watchtower, but he held his shot, now suspicious.

  “Decoys!” U’ldanta shouted from closer than she was before. McKenna looked to a building across from him to see her peeking through a window. She had moved fast, not even catching his attention.

  “I told you to stay put!” he shouted.

  “And watch you blast mirrors all night? You've got three rounds left, Marshal. Make them count.”

  Bucard could only hear his own breathing as he looked through his scope, carefully picking out his shot. He saw the muzzle blasts from McKenna but lost him shortly after. He wanted no interference and planned to take the Auroran out first, as she was the only one with a clear view. He smiled as he thought of the idea of an Auroran tally on his rifle. She was in a covered position, she had sense, but she wasn't aware of his current location.

  McKenna kept panning the scope to see a flat rooftop some six hundred meters away and on it a tan tarp blending in perfectly with the color scheme of the buildings. Sticking out from it was a barrel. He saw the shooter was lined up with U’ldanta and he was instantly alarmed.

  “Doctor, down!” McKenna squeezed the trigger and let the bullet fly, meeting its target perfectly. He saw a huge plume of red mist and smoke exit the body, but oddly the body was unflinching. She took view of the target to see the abnormality.

  “Another decoy, a dead body…”

  “He used his partner as bait…” McKenna stood to a crouched position, frantically looking all around until he heard the crack of a bullet followed by the shout from U’ldanta.

  “Doctor!” McKenna shouted. He looked to her to see her grabbing her shoulder. He saw that she was still moving and quickly came to his senses but, more importantly, he saw the impact of the bullet through the wall in front of her. He visually mapped its trajectory to give him a rough idea of where the sniper was and traced back to a water tower with a small rusted hole, a perfect spot. He picked up the rifle and looked down the scope. As soon as his eye lined up with the crosshairs, his scope exploded in front of his face with small metal fragments cutting his skin. He squeezed the trigger just after sending a round wild and stray and fell backwards over a metal barrel and into some boxes. He didn’t move but simply froze as to appear lifeless.

  “Marshal?!”

  “I'm good!” McKenna said, breathing heavily, still lying on his back. “Bastard took out my scope! Are you hit?”

  “Shoulder trauma, it's already healed. Did you see him?”

  “Water tower, eight hundred meters out, rusted-out hole.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It's too perfect.” McKenna detached the broken scope from the rifle and adjusted the backup iron sights to eight hundred meters. There was no breeze in the arena, a lucky break for his windage.

  Bucard saw McKenna tumble over, motionless. He couldn't have felt a bigger wave of relief and satisfaction. All that was left was the Auroran. His
angle of her was less than ideal but, without a rifle of her own, the killing shot would be too easy for him. He turned to climb the ladder to the top of the reservoir for the clearest shot and claim his prize.

  “He's coming out the top of the tower!” U’ldanta whispered harshly.

  “I've got one round left!”

  “That's eight hundred meters with no scope, Marshal, not even an Auroran could—!”

  “I'm not an Auroran, I'm a Martian, Doctor!” He jested but the shot would be a dubious one even for him. With that range and no scope, the shot was all but impossible.

  “You'll need an extra second to get the right hold,” U’ldanta said. “I'll get it for you.” He peeked around the barrel to see her stand up and inch her way out into the open rooftop.

  “Get down, Doctor, what's the matter with you?!”

  “With all due respect, Martian, I'm in a whole different league than you.” She walked out, making visual contact with the sniper. He was already waiting. The shot couldn't be clearer and easier for him. She could see even the subtlest of his movements from her distance and when she saw the faintest muscle contraction of his arm, she twisted her body to the right. “Now, Marshal!”

  He popped out of cover and aimed down the rifle’s iron sights, blurry and taking up most of his sight picture for such a far target. He exhaled and took a second longer to be sure of his shot, and then he pulled the trigger. The blast was thunderous as the bullet left the barrel at over one thousand meters per second. He watched for little over a second, waiting for the bullet’s travel time at such distance before seeing a large plume of red mist.

  He breathed satisfaction as Bucard's body slid off the water tower, plummeting a hundred feet. A few seconds passed before the crowd erupted in cheer after both contestants were killed. McKenna threw his satisfaction away and ran to the doctor's aid, sliding down a pole on the side of the building. He made it up to the doctor who only had a small cut present on her cheek, Bucard's bullet just missing her. He saw the cut heal before his eyes, another perk of the Auroran species.

  “You're alright?” McKenna asked as he looked at her, though she was barely worried herself. “How did you do that?”

  “Like I said, I’m not limited by being human.”

  McKenna and U’ldanta made their way down and back to the gate where several armed guards approached them with Dill and Speakeasy behind them. Dill approached McKenna with a smile but was held back by a guard.

  “Congratulations, Auroran,” a guard said. “You're free to go. As for you, Demon, good luck. I've actually got a bet on you.” U’ldanta looked at McKenna. She gave a simple nod and walked with the guards. Dill looked to him, also with worry.

  “Don't worry, sir,” Dill said as he handed McKenna a bottle of water. “I heard a rumor it's just one opponent, nothing crazy either. You'll be fine.”

  McKenna nodded reluctantly as he drank from the bottle. His appearance looked anything but fine, however, dust covering his body, blood, dirt, and sweat on his face. He took another drink and gave it back to Dill. “We're almost out of this, and almost to Hasker. We'll take care of the doctor, just come back in one piece, yeah?”

  “Thanks, Dill.” He turned and accompanied the rest out of the arena but not before McKenna stopped him again. “Dill?” The detective turned.

  “Sir?” Dill asked, puzzled.

  “In case I don’t—”

  “No, sir, no need to talk like that.”

  “I need to.” McKenna was brushing shoulders with death and now that they had U’ldanta, he felt partially accomplished. But he knew how real death was. “Thanks again for saving me in that alley.”

  Dill shook his head. “It was my duty, sir.”

  “If you hadn’t, I would’ve never seen all of this.” McKenna, of course, was speaking of the Red Sectors of Earth. “What I was fighting for. What I was supposed to be fighting for.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not bragging that I saved a Martian’s life,” Dill smirked. “Come back to us in one piece, Alan.”

  Dill nodded and exited. McKenna nodded and turned around to see the arena shifting again, with the buildings retracting into the pits below. Shortly after, a flat plane of the same red dirt emerged with dozens of stone pillars with flames lit on top of them. It was definitely less cluttering than the buildings. Whatever the final evolution was, it was one the crowd had to see clearly.

  15

  SWORD OF THE COUNCIL

  McKenna paced back and forth near the gate. The stone pillars were everywhere, only a small dirt ring in the middle. As usual, Spunkmeyer filled in the audience as well as the contestants.

  “How about them apples, folks? It looks like we have a new legend in The Red Fields. Whether he lives or dies here, the Demon will be talked about for decades to come. But for now, for this night, only the upcoming battle will be spoken of. This match will have to be fair, people, a heads-up duel! The Martian gets his gun back and armor supplied by Gregori’s Military Antiquities! Visit him today!” Another two pods dropped down from above. Once they smacked into the ground, the panels ejected off with one revealing his gear belt and the other pod revealing the Martian Armor from Gregori’s shop as well as his coat. He smiled as he knew Gregori was acting as some type of sponsor for him. He quickly geared up as the announcer continued.

  “But first, some interesting trivia! The Martian's final opponent is well known by the criminal underworld and has informed us that the Demon is actually rumored to be a Marshal! Fancy that! Even the Sword of the Council can't resist the greatest show on Earth!” McKenna was curious as well as nervous at how much the announcer knew about him. Someone well connected was tracking his steps. “And rumor has it that the Demon’s opponent is nothing short of remarkable either.”

  McKenna saw the gates open on the opposite side of the arena, but he couldn't make out who it was. McKenna made his way to the center of the arena, the heat radiating off the small torches atop the pillars was more intense as he walked past them. As his opponent walked closer, he saw his gear was professionally selected with armor sections and grey urban fatigues. He was wearing a scarf that covered a portion of his face.

  “Ladies and gentleman, I can't hold my excitement any longer! I am privileged to give you yet another one-of-a-kind battle! I give you Marshal versus Marshal!”

  McKenna snapped his head above to see the announcer point to the opponent in question. He looked at the man in the ring to see him pull the scarf from his face, revealing the ghost of a once living man.

  “Kazan…” McKenna said under his breath, growing cold and inflated with burdening questions.

  “Have at each other, boys!” The buzzer blared from above and the crowd grew silent, never-before witnessing a battle like the one to unfold. He stared Kazan down to see a motionless and silent man.

  “Marshal Kazan, what are you doing down here?” He began pacing towards McKenna, forcing him to do so in the opposite direction.

  “So, you're McKenna,” Kazan said with a raspy voice. He was one of the oldest active Marshals and one of the wisest. “I've heard stories about you. Bedtime stories about the Demon of Mars. The Son of Fortuna, unable to be killed in battle. The Martians themselves say the Goddess Fortuna won’t let you die. She’ll always watch over the boldest of them all. What better choice for the Marshal to replace me. They think I’m dead, don’t they? Yeah, once you go missing in the undercity, I'd say the same thing.” Kazan moved his hand slowly to his leg holster, unclasping the retention strap on his pistol.

  “Yeah, they think you’re dead, but here you are.” McKenna was beyond suspicious. He brushed his coat over to reveal his handgun. “Why haven’t you reported back to them, Kazan?”

  “You think I'm here for sporting competition? Take a ponder. This situation you're in isn't a coincidence, not a final match-up of the best contenders. I'm here to kill you, Marshal McKenna.”

  “Don't tell me you've gone in for that bounty. With just a few credits, even a Marshal can
fall into corruption?”

  “The bounty was retracted right after you killed Bucard, not that it meant anything to me, and I’m not simple freelance after all. Now we're using our own resources to dispose of you. Several generous donations were made to the Gamemaster to arrange as many of these matches as possible to have you killed without suspicion, but we’ve grown impatient.”

  “Not Hasker?”

  “Hasker has his own agenda. We have ours.”

  “Who the hell are you working for, Kazan?” McKenna growled as he continued to pace in the opposite direction. Kazan reached for his scarf and pulled it above his shoulder, revealing an insignia patch of a yellow tree branch.

  “The Golden Bough…?”

  Kazan drew his pistol and began firing towards McKenna as he made a mad dash to the pillars. McKenna ducked low and drew his handgun, firing wildly at the Marshal as he moved to cover. Bullets snapped past his head as he rounded a pillar and put his back to it. He took a deep exhale and looked at his hand to see blood trickling down his sleeve and onto the grip of his gun. A bullet had made a clean entry and exit through his lower shoulder.

  “How much is he paying you, Kazan?! Thousands? Millions? How much does it take to buy a Marshal, the incorruptible?!”

  “I guess you still don't know!” McKenna heard his voice but it sounded far off. “If you did, you would know that money is worth nothing now!” He peeked around the corner to try and see where the voice was coming from, but the pillars gave a strange acoustic. “Simple numbers written in vain on a rich man's grave. Some men are motivated by something much more. Even you!” McKenna heard a quick shuffle and saw Kazan quickly working his way around him. He quickly ran in the opposite direction, hearing the loud booms of the shots and feeling several bullets whiz past him, with several striking the pillars, knocking out chunks of stone and concrete. He quickly put his back to another pillar.

  “Money motivates every scum of criminal. Maybe you belong in the loony bin!”

  “Not money, McKenna, but an idea! For a future!”