He has to shoot to a screaming kid, and it can’t be helped. He was well aware, when the convocation came, along with a five figures bank transfer signed by the Future & Hope. He was well aware, when he got up that morning and wore his tactical clothing and equipment. He was well aware, when he landed on the island and reached the school on one of the vehicles branded F&H.
And he’s well aware now that his target is a skinny, screaming kid who can’t even run straight.
Delta Two’s name is Victor, he’s twenty-seven and he’s been a mercenary long enough to know that hesitate and wonder are not things to do. Not when you have to go and exterminate an entire school.
So he takes a short breath through his balaclava and lets his finger slip on the trigger, in a fluid and automatic gesture. The nameless boy is hit in the back; he bends like a twig, slows down, and leans forward; he falls, face to the ground.
Another one bites the dust. The song gets stuck in his head and he won’t be able to take it off for the rest of the day.
Another voice creeps into his head. “Move, move!” And his body reacts automatically to the order.
The fourth boy has turned around and now is trying to go back inside. Victor aims and fires while walking toward the building. The boy falls to the ground, face down; he moves again, crawling.
Victor is upon him, he shoots at the back of his head, and the boy ceases to move once and for all.
The Delta team leaps over the corpses and makes its way by firing on the few students who are walking in the hallways rather than being in their classroom.
They split as planned: One, Two and Three to the right; Four, Five and Six to the left.
The lobby of the school building is already dyed in red. Soon the blood flowing from the wounds will make the floor a slippery mess.
Victor takes the hallway to class 3B, but in the middle there is something he didn’t expect. A student smeared with blood, bending over the carcass of a man, probably a teacher.
Victor doesn’t know that his name is Bansi and he’s completely insane with rage, but at least he gets the second part from his wild look.
The Indian boy crouches on the ground, right when the mercenary fires, avoiding the first burst; then snaps and throws himself at him.
Delta Two instinctively uses the submachine gun as a shield, ready for close quarters combat.
Bansi wants to bite, mouth wide open, teeth and tongue stained with blood, more red.
Victor’s right hand searches for the knife in his thigh holster.
A quick and fluid movement, the blade cuts through the air and meets the boy’s throat, tearing it.
A spurt of blood splashes on Victor’s face, smearing his dark glasses.
He cleans them absent-mindedly with the back of his half-finger gloves, while Bansi falls to the ground gurgling, adding more red to the hallway floor.
Victor holds his MP5 and proceeds.
In the class he has just passed, a grenade explodes.
Section C
Under My Skin
11. Secrets Behind a Wall
Hideo is what might be described as the classic nerd. Plus he’s Japanese, which adds an extra percentage of nerdiness. He’s bony, with a crew cut and thick glasses; he also has prominent teeth but tries to hide them by keeping his mouth always shut. He doesn’t talk much. But he thinks a lot.
When he was selected to join the Toho Special School, his reaction was like always a nervous trembling and repeated half-bows. But deep inside, he thought it was his big chance, that finally someone would recognize his brilliant mind.
Now, after two years, he just ended up on a remote island, in a school too hot and full of strange students who are anything but brilliant. Some come from places so remote that are still struggling to communicate with the rest of their class, some even wash very little. And Hideo hates bad smells. Instead, he loves the computer lab and the pleasant hum of the machines running.
The teacher has assigned them a stupid exercise he has solved in five minutes, in spite of his classmate Fah, a shy Thai boy, a little dumb, who has taken Hideo as a sensei and hangs on his every word. Now he’s very concentrated on the screen, with an almost comical expression, as he tries to unravel the obscure meanings of programming code.
Hideo minimizes the window with the exercise and opens the browser to connect to the Internet. The school network is protected by a firewall, but he has already learned how to get around it and be able to view the inaccessible sites.
Not that he’s looking for something particularly forbidden, but he has read about an imminent total eclipse and wants to learn more.
In fact, the scientific websites have been in turmoil for several days because of an abnormal solar activity, alternating sunspots and flares, which has created geomagnetic storms of a certain size.
Hideo watches the screen with excitement. He feels a tingling throughout his body and knows that it’s about to happen. He holds both hands on the keyboard, his breath becomes more frequent, his heartbeats accelerate. It’s a strange thing; it started a few days ago, he feels as if his mind were wobbling and pulsating to the rhythm of electrical impulses, a moment of concentration and he becomes one with the machine.
Without him moving a muscle, the computer reacts to his mental stimulation. Hideo enters the network and starts exploring all the doors; no barrier can hold him, he has access to everything.
“A particularly intense solar flare occurred on the day of...”
The line goes off. The browser returns an error page.
Unable to connect to the Internet.
Hideo squints, trying to focus even more, to penetrate more deeply. There’s nothing he could do, everything is gone. His head begins to ache. There’s no more signal, as if a cable had been suddenly cut.
Interesting. Curious. Maybe it’s just a momentary breakdown. Yet the school internal network is still functioning. Hideo pushes a bit more; a drop of sweat runs along his temple; his fingertips tingle.
Fah is whispering something from his left side, but he doesn’t hear him, he’s staring at the screen.
He accesses the server of the teachers’ room, he explores the teachers’ private folders; his mind can see all the passwords unencrypted. There is a strange message in the inbox of some of them.
“Tomorrow, at five past ten, evacuate the building through the cafeteria.”
What the heck does that mean?
He accesses the Principal’s computer; there is a hidden folder with the digital signature of the Future & Hope, the Corporation that subsidizes the Special Schools all over the planet.
Hideo skims through the files, there are the results of the health examinations of all the students admitted to the Toho Special School; each one has a personal data sheet. He spreads a dozen of them on the screen, and something catches his eye: blood group 0 – Bombay phenotype. All of them. Each student has the same blood type.
What the heck does that mean?
The Internet is down, so he can’t do more research. He closes the tabs and returns to examining the Principal’s e-mails; he received the communication too, but here it’s more detailed.
“The researchers identified the risk of unexpected reactions in response to the geomagnetic storms of the coming days. The tests on the subjects of the Toho Special School gave unsatisfactory results; the genetic material is unstable, the risk of mutations of the gene H is uncontrollable and unpredictable, so we decided to discontinue the experiment. The subjects will be eliminated for security reasons.
This is not an exercise.
The recipient of this letter, Dr. Edogawa, is asked to leave the school building before ten o’clock tomorrow.
None of the students should be informed of this operation and none of them will be allowed to leave the campus nor the island.
The order is considered effective and irrevocable.”
Hideo unwittingly opens his mouth, showing his protruding teeth. He’s still not sure of having understood what he j
ust read.
The subjects will be eliminated.
Eliminated.
What the heck does that mean?
12. Cafeteria Meeting
Long before the bell of ten o’clock rang, some of the teachers have already left their classrooms to follow the instructions of the laconic e-mail sent from the headquarters of the Future & Hope.
The previous day they were summoned in the Principal’s office and the monologue of Dr. Edogawa was similarly strange and disturbing.
“Is it correct what they had reported?” asked with composure Professor Jiang, a middle-aged woman of Chinese origin, as strict and rigorous as the bun striped with silver hair she had tied behind her head.
The Principal nodded, serious. “We’ve been cut off from the program. Our students are relegated to laboratory waste.” His voice trembled for a moment, but then he decided to speak again. “They will be eliminated. All of them.”
A jolt of pure anguish shook the teachers at the same instant.
“Eliminated...?” whispered Professor Nagasaki.
“What will become of us?” asked Professor Ross, who had pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his sudden sweat.
The Principal answered, cold. “You will be evacuated and transferred; the important thing is that you show up tomorrow at ten o’clock in the cafeteria.”
The Nagasaki insisted, “It’s almost two hundred and fifty kids! We can’t allow such a... slaughter!”
“These decisions aren’t up to me, and you know,” the Principal seemed mortified. “But on the other hand... those kids are dangerous. Socially dangerous. In the past, there have already been cases of mutations, which have been isolated and silenced. Once the process is triggered, there is no way back, there is no place for them among the normal people. The abnormal solar activity of the recent days is catalyzing these processes; the risk is too great. Imagine how many of them have a chance of developing the most common mutation, the one that makes them aggressive and violent.”
Professor Ross passed again the handkerchief on his forehead, temples and neck. He remembered the day when one of his students had undergone the mutation and had attacked him. He looked like a wild animal, hydrophobic, and Ross barely made it out alive. At that moment, the thing for what he feared the most was his own safety.
Instead, Nagasaki didn’t want to leave the students to their fate. She was a tiny and skinny Japanese woman, but full of spirit. “There must be another way to deal with this. They are our students! We can’t let them be treated as cannon fodder!”
Among the other teachers spread a slight buzz. The Principal looked down, unable to meet the black and insightful eyes of his compatriot.
“Like I said, we have no choice. The mercenaries will arrive tomorrow at ten o’clock and will shoot at everything that moves. It’s best for all of you to be in the cafeteria as planned. “
The order has been carried out.
Some teachers, including Nagasaki, didn’t even have the courage to enter the school that morning.
One by one, within fifteen minutes, all the teachers on duty are in the cafeteria. And they all find themselves in front of the same scene: two mercenaries in black, their faces covered by balaclavas and dark glasses, the MP5 submachine guns in their hands. They are stationed behind the counter where the attendants usually distribute meals to the students. A third man is between them, He’s the only one with his face uncovered. In his forties, cropped hair, thick eyebrows framing black eyes; strong jaw and facial wrinkles which give him a grim expression.
“So, can we leave?” asks anxiously Professor Ross.
“Only when everyone is here,” answers the man.
The bell has just rung; the last teachers are coming in.
The mercenary calls the roll. He has a list of names, which was compiled that morning; there are eleven people in all.
The others have already left during the previous classes, when the exits of the building were still open.
“Very well,” concludes satisfied the man. “We can proceed,” he says to his men, raising a hand.
The mercenaries load and aim their weapons.
“What’s this supposed to mean? You have to let us out of here!” exclaims Jiang in a tone that sounds more outraged than frightened.
The man grins. “Change of plans,” then lowers his arm.
While the two men in black began to fire on the teachers, he calmly puts his balaclava on, turns away and goes back out to resume his position.
13. One With the World
After Delta, it’s up to the Epsilon team to enter the building.
Six more men in black cross the threshold, leaping over the corpses, stomping in the blood puddles, which are spreading from the bodies on the ground.
Their target is the first floor. Combat boots leave red footprints on the stairs. Their steps are interspersed by bursts of bullets and the screams of the students.
Two boys are coming down, attracted by the noise. Epsilon One opens fire. The burst hits them in the groin, because of their elevated position. The boys fall forward, the mercenary dodges to the side carelessly, continues to climb, followed by his comrades.
The corpses remain there, motionless and broken, an Indian boy lying on one side with wide eyes; a puddle of blood spreads and drips from the steps.
The mercenaries arrive upstairs. There are other students wandering the hallways. The team leader signals to split.
The boys are now in panic, some stare at them paralyzed, others run and seek shelter in the classrooms. The fire becomes intense. Sounds of gunshots and screams, chaos of students who run, stumble, fall, bleed.
Epsilon Four proceeds to the biology classroom; all students have left, scared by what they have just witnessed. The mercenary still doesn’t know what awaits inside; he just sees the crowded hallway and too many targets, more than he can hit. He does his best, it’s like on target practice. Some of them dodge the bullets and get away; Epsilon Five will take care of them.
Four comes to the classroom, leaving behind a trail of bodies, stacked on each other, in grotesque positions; there are still those who jerk with the last spasms.
An Asian girl is kneeling on the ground; the gush of red blood that drips from her lip doesn’t match the green and pink of the pins holding her hair in place. She also has a thin layer of makeup, a black line under her eyes. The teardrop emerging at the corner will mess it up for sure if it’s not waterproof.
The round and pretty face winces in pain; the mercenary keeps on walking; she outstretches a hand toward him, as if to ask for help or pity.
The mercenary draws his secondary weapon, a nine-millimeter Heckler & Koch USP9, and points it at her face.
The girl crosses her eyes staring at the barrel, the pleading hand retracts; she says nothing, only a jolt shakes her, a regurgitation of blood from her perforated stomach.
Epsilon Four pulls the trigger and her brain goes to meet the floor.
He leaves her that way, still sliding towards the ground; he sheathes his sidearm, changes the thirty rounds magazine of his MP5 and enters the biology classroom.
A quick look in search of any movements and immediately his blood freezes.
“Holy fuck...” he murmurs.
The class is empty, only Pavan is left. The uncontrolled reaction of his cells has been going on to the point of making his classmates flee in horror. His body has expanded and melted like pudding in contact with the hard surfaces; he has become part of the floor, like a bizarre bulge of the school building.
He tries to move but only produces more sticky threads and sinks deeper.
His face is contracted by fear and anxiety, leaned with tears; his eyes are pleading.
He stares at the mercenary as if to ask him for help, as if that demon in black could free him from the slimy prison that his body has become.
Epsilon Four can’t do anything more than what for which he was hired. Eliminate the targets.
No heart, nor compassion, only gu
ts and brain.
Yet he can’t help but curse with disgust and horror.
What are these monsters?
He comes back on earth and strengthens his grip on the submachine gun. His finger finds the trigger; his shoulder absorbs the recoil.
The nine-millimeter bullets enter the boy’s body – where should be his chest – as if it were liquid; sticky and gray matter squirts all around, on the desks, on the floor.
Epsilon Four raises his aim to the head; the bullets pierce his forehead and left eye and finally something that looks like human blood comes out.
Pavan opens his mouth, his head pushed backward by the backlash; he collapses on himself and begins to sink in the pudding he has become from the neck down, with some kind of slimy suction.
The mercenary turns and must cling to a chair to hold back a sudden retching.
He curses silently.
14. Shoot Me More
And suddenly Sasha thinks that hiding through the shelves of the library was not such a brilliant idea.
His classmates have opened the door letting in the loud sounds of gunfire and screams of terror, the echo of steps moved by panic.
Sasha goes to the window, sliding the glass panel; he sticks out his head and sees a man in black guarding the side of the building.
A fraction of a second, their eyes meet and the mercenary points his weapon.
Sasha snaps back; he feels the bullets hiss in front of his nose, he steps back in the room, turns and he’s there, at the entrance. Another one of those armed men: he’s shooting without hesitation at his classmates.
Sasha sees the bodies dancing in mid-air at every bullet that lashes them. Red splashes smear the reading tables and the first shelves. Boys and girls slip to the ground in agony. They’re only five, but it looks like a bigger massacre.
Before the mercenary could raise his look and gun sights on him, Sasha has slipped away, back through the shelves, in a deadly hide and seek.
Tropical Weird Page 3
