Revolution

by J. S. Frankel

  He pointed to the car and they got in, with Ilic at the wheel and Harry, Anastasia and Istvan in back. A pack of cigarettes sat on the dashboard and Harry prayed that the man wouldn’t smoke during the drive over.

  Ilic drove quickly out of the hangar, got onto the highway that led from the airport, and started north. “It will take about one hour to get where we are going. From where we stop, we must go into forest on foot. It is bad place, has bad memories. We must be careful.”

  As he drove, he pulled a cigarette from the pack on the dashboard and lit up. So much for prayers, Harry thought. A stream of smoke wafted over to his position, making his eyes water and causing Anastasia to cough. “Mind if I open the window?” she asked.

  “Go ahead.”

  She cracked the window open a few inches and a warm stream of air poured in. It was summertime there, and the temperature was around seventy-five, with a fresh breeze and the aroma of flowers, crops and more all being grown. The city, with its quaint brick buildings that sat next to more modern glass and steel jobs, lay near the Danube. A smell of water filtered in.

  The scene gradually shifted to one of the countryside and the brick and mortar gave way to trees and shrubbery. Ilic drove quickly but steadily, smoked incessantly and kept silent. Harry put his head down for a quick nap and felt himself going under, but the sound of crunching tires and bumps woke him up. “We are here,” Ilic announced. “Come, I will tell you what happened.”

  He got out of the car and they joined him, looking at a vast green field with a low mountain off in the distance. Harry strained his eyes and saw two distinct places, a green meadowland and a forest.

  “That,” Ilic said, pointing, “is Fruska Gora Mountain. It is national park. The bottom part is very famous place for family picnics. The upper part is where many birds and wild animals live and it has very...” he gestured with his hands, pulling them wide apart, “how you say it, fat forest?”

  Anastasia chuckled. “I think you mean thick. The trees are close together?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Ilic nodded. “We were off-duty about one month ago, three of my men and me along with three other women. It was party for us, yes? We were having party in forest near base when something attacked us.”

  “What was it?” Istvan asked. “I am sorry, your face is—”

  Ilic’s expression never changed. “Ruined?” he asked in an even tone. “It was bird-thing. Looked like a woman with wings and claws. She got me good. She was very strong... they all were.”

  For the first time his face wore a look of uncertainty, Harry recognized that look. It was fear. Ilic had mentioned others. “How many others did you see? What did they look like?”

  “Yes, others came.” Ilic nodded his head in a slow, grave manner and his voice grew troubled. “There were many of them, things that I have never seen before and no want to see again. They were... monsters.”

  He went on to describe them as mixes of birds and various wild animals. Roughly twenty in all, they came at night and struck without warning. His friends had been having a drinking party with the women—it was warm, and they were all drunk. The party crashers proceeded to rip, tear and slash everything in sight, all the while screaming in rage.

  “The bird-thing, she scream the loudest,” Ilic said as he lit a cigarette with shaky hands. He puffed on it a few times, then the trembling stopped and he tossed the butt away. “She slash my face and I fall down. Then she go after woman I am with. She cut my woman’s throat and my woman bleeds, bleeds fast. My army friends, they have guns and shoot, but bullets do nothing.”

  He transferred his gaze to Harry and his voice began to tremble. “They do nothing. I lie there and think that they will kill me, but maybe they think that I am already dead, there is so much blood on me. Now,” he fought to gain control of his voice, “now we are here and I want to kill them all. I am a soldier and this is what I must do.” His face was set with determination.

  “Did your commander believe your story?” Anastasia asked.

  Ilic shook his head. “Not at first,” he replied. “I call him on emergency number. He drive up and say that I must be drunk and get into fight. But when I show him pieces of my friends, he changes his mind, call around and then your FBI man, Farrell, call us. He say there are more things like that walking around. Then my commander believes him. Only three hours ago, he show us that tape of shark man burning people.”

  A shrug came from him as if to say orders were orders. “This Farrell and my commander, they talk about many things. My commander hangs up phone and says this is national security. So I get my orders to go ahead, find the monsters and kill them. Our battalion is on maneuvers now near border. But my commander excuses me and said that I can go help you.”

  “Can you show us where you were attacked?” Harry asked.

  “We are going there now.”

  They got back into the car and drove to the base of the mountain. There, Ilic stopped and said, “We must go on foot from here. Do not worry about others seeing you.” He pointed to a rope that had been strung around the perimeter of the forest. A sign hung on it. “That sign means this area has been sealed from public. We will be safe.”

  Once again, Harry had the idea that the general public would have a fit if they saw him, but this wasn’t his country. He was a guest and had to act like one. “Thank you,” he said. Anastasia slapped him on the arm and rolled her eyes.

  Trudging up the side of the mountain on a well-worn trail, they spotted numerous birds along with a few elk. The scent of animal droppings and urine registered strongly in his nostrils. However, the gamy, pungent smell of death that Szabo and the others possessed... he couldn’t get a reading. “Anastasia, you have anything?” he asked.

  Like him, she also tested the air with her nose. “I got nothing.”

  “Me too,” added Istvan. “I have nothing.”

  Ilic kept leading them further into the forest. Finally, he stopped and pointed. “It was over there.”

  Numerous traces of dried blood still dotted the trees and bushes. Ilic stared at the ground, his mouth working, but he said nothing except “You have better smell system than people?”

  “We are people,” Anastasia reminded him. “We just look a little different, is all.”

  Ilic grunted. “I am sorry for my words. I do not mean to insult, but after this...”

  His voice trailed off and Harry took up the slack. “They’re still people, too. They’re just on the wrong side...”

  “I have something,” Istvan interrupted.

  “What is it?”

  Istvan didn’t speak at first. Instead, he got down on all fours and snuffled around. In the middle of his nasal examination, he stiffened, got up on two legs and pointed to his right. “I have a smell,” he said. His voice rose with excitement. “It is same smell as lab in Hungary. It is over there.”

  He scampered off and they followed him. Once they got to a small clearing, they found the same kind of door as the one they’d previously seen. Chalk one up for Russian consistency, Harry thought. Undecided as to what would happen next, he asked, “What do we do, ask for an invitation or knock?”

  It was the most obvious question to ask. Before anyone had a chance to answer, Ilic pulled out his pistol, cocked it and said, “I no need invitation. I get them now. Help me to pull open door.” He started to yank on the chain and the door squealed out its rage on unoiled hinges.

  Great, Harry thought, advertise our presence here. Suddenly, a feeling that they were being watched swept over him. Anastasia seemed to get the same idea, as the fur on the back of her neck stood up and her hackles rose. Istvan swung his head back and forth, taking in the action and asked in a frightened voice, “Should I hide now?”

  “It’s a good idea,” Harry answered. At once, Istvan took off, ran for a mound of sticks and leaves and squeezed his rotund little body under it.

  Ilic continued to yank on the chain, his voice getting louder and angrier. Finally, he hauled the door o
pen. “Hey!” he yelled into the hole. “I come to kill you for what you do to me and to my friends. Come on up!”

  Apparently, the yelling had some effect, as three of the enhanced came out of the hole, all wearing jeans and leather jackets. One of them had the head of a frog and the body of a man, while the other two... they looked like mixes of pigs, horses and dogs. Their torsos were human, but their legs were crooked and slender like racehorses, while their arms ended in sharp canine claws. They boiled out onto the surface, snarling and waving their arms.

  “Teenage rockers,” Anastasia muttered as she set herself up in a fighting stance. “They would have to come up with something like this.”

  The trio of mutants didn’t wait for an invitation. Instead, giving wild screeches, they attacked. Anastasia laid out the first thing that came at her, the frog-headed monstrosity, while Harry took on one of the other mixes. The thing slashed at him from all directions, but it couldn’t match skilled combat training. Harry swept its legs out from under it with a well-timed kick. A follow-up right hook took it out of consciousness-land. Ilic simply took aim from with his pistol and shot the third monster through the head. It collapsed in a heap.

  “I like direct approach,” he said, grinning.

  The grin disappeared, as did his head when a pair of jaws took it off. The severed head bounced a few yards away and the headless corpse sagged to the ground, blood staining the ground a bright red. Szabo stood in its place, his bloody teeth exposed in a smile that portended no good. He held a pistol in his hand. At this range, he couldn’t miss. Slowly, Harry raised his hands and Anastasia did the same.

  “Nice of you two to come for a visit,” the smiling monstrosity said. “Shall we go inside?”

  Chapter Ten: Welcome to My World, Part Two

  Szabo shepherded them downstairs at gunpoint. Along the way, two of his people came to guide them. They remained in front and the shark man brought up the rear. As they walked, their feet echoing on the stone steps, Harry took note of the design. It was identical to the one in Hungary, right down to the sickly yellow lights on the ceiling, the laboratory and the cells. The only difference was that this facility was newer and smelled less, but it was no less dangerous. It was a pit of human tragedy, the product of a diseased and warped mind.

  At the bottom, Szabo called a halt and let out a shrill whistle. Immediately, people of all shapes and sizes poured in and stood at attention. Harry spotted mixtures of elk and human, fowl and boar along with other mixes so bizarre it boggled his imagination. “How do you like my mini-nation?” Szabo asked.

  “They’re ugly as sin and you’re a scumbag,” Anastasia hissed.

  Her summation of the menagerie didn’t please the leader, as he let loose with a backhand to her face and she fell to the floor. Picking herself up, she bared her claws, but Szabo had his gun centered on her midsection and shook his head. “Don’t try it, girl. I know you are a capable fighter, but you cannot dodge a bullet at close range.”

  Harry put a hand on her shoulder and held her back. The muscles under her fur felt like iron, but a second later she relaxed and spit on the ground as if offering her opinion. “Take her to a cell,” Szabo instructed to his people.

  Two of his guards grabbed her by the elbows, but she shook them off and walked proudly, head held high. Once she’d gone, Szabo dismissed the rest of his people save one, a man with a head like a German shepherd. He spoke to the man in his own language, gesticulating to the surface. The other man shook his head.

  Szabo growled with disappointment and switched to speaking English. “Take three others and scour the surface. Be quick about it. We must find him.”

  The other man nodded and ran off, returning a few seconds later with two other similar mutants. Once they left, Szabo waved to a table with some chairs grouped around it and gestured for him to take a seat. Harry sat down, warily eyeing the pistol.

  However, Szabo went to the far corner of the room and put it on a counter, came back and sat down. It was almost as if he was laying out a challenge. Harry glanced at the gun, but decided to wait and see how things played out. “Do all of your people speak English?”

  Szabo shrugged. “It is a useful language and is still the means of international communication. I use it, as do all my people. It gives them something in common.”

  He turned his gaze up at the ceiling and gave a sigh. “It seems that the little pig-man is more resourceful than I imagined. We will find him eventually.”

  As he spoke, he examined his claws, carefully picking out a few traces of dirt. Once done, he looked up at Harry, his gaze frank and open. “So,” he said in an amiable tone, “While your girlfriend is not so impressed with my allies, I see that you are, are you not?”

  “Not really. They look like freaks. Did you dream this up, or did Kulakov?”

  Szabo laughed. “Ah, so you have another name to go on. I will not ask you where you heard it, but I shall tell you, anyway. In reality, we both imagined this plan although to give credit, it was his idea first. He was the one who created me and the others. I am telling you this because we both know you will never leave here.”

  Now where had Harry heard that before? Oh yes, twice, from smarter individuals who were now dead. He’d get out, somehow. “If you’re going to repeat your offer of me joining your gang, forget it. I wasn’t interested before, and I’m even less interested now.”

  With a slight sigh, perhaps one of resignation, Szabo reached over to an adjacent table, took a rolled-up piece of paper from it and proffered it. “What is this?” Harry asked.

  “Open it up and look.”

  Unrolling it, Harry saw a map of Europe. While the notations were in Serbian, he knew where the countries were, all of them except for a number of small areas marked with red circles. The first was in the northern end of Hungary. Others were in Serbia, Croatia and Russia. A few crude pictures were at the bottom of the page. They were flags of Great Britain, Germany, Italy and France. “Let me guess, these are going to be your new homes?”

  “They are.”

  He leaned forward. “The marked areas comprise around fifty square miles. Hungary is still my home, no matter what, but it is just a start. Once we build a home in my country, we will branch out.”

  Szabo pointed to one corner of the room. It held a Genesis Chamber. The ability to transmute human flesh and animal flesh into a hybrid was something out of science fiction, yet Harry and a corps of engineers had managed to turn it into science fact. Using DNA from animals, the chamber simply accelerated the transformation. Instead of months, as it had taken with the previous Russian scientists, it took only minutes. “Let me guess, you’ve been using it on other followers, am I right?”

  Szabo nodded. “You are correct. And I will have legions. Did you see those people I lead? They are the ones I spoke of when last we met. They are the disaffected, the outliers, the ones discriminated against. They come from all points along the human and sexual orientation spectrum. They are all religions and all creeds. I do not care what they are. I only care that they can help me achieve my goals, which are their goals as well.”

  “Your goals,” Harry said. “You mean your goals of murder?” He was barely able to contain his disgust. “I saw the tape of you burning people up. There must have been over a hundred people in those cells. You just torched them. You’re sick!”

  “No, I am doing what is necessary. You would do the same.”

  Voice rising, Szabo went on to say they would continue their campaign of murder until the governments of Serbia and Hungary caved in. Russia would be next. “We cannot be caught and we cannot be exterminated, not so easily. Our efforts will continue until we get what is ours. After that, we shall live in peace.”

  Call this a SMH moment—the plan was ludicrous. “You realize that we found your hideout in less than a day,” Harry pointed out and didn’t bother hiding his sarcasm. “How long do you think it will take for the army to find out where you’re hiding? It won’t take long, not after
all the people see what you’ve been doing.”

  “It is just a means to an end,” remarked Szabo in a matter-of-fact voice. “The governments will accede to our demands.”

  Harry still wasn’t convinced. “That’s a load of crap. You’ve got, what, thirty people left? You can’t last. I don’t care about the Russian army, but they’ll eventually hunt you down. If they don’t, then the other armies will. You’re wasting your time.”

  Szabo shrugged. He seemed unconcerned with facing superior odds. “What you forget is that there are many discontented people within those armies. I know of them, know how to reach them and know how to lead them. There are other places that we can go. We can hide—we can create. All of this, I know for a fact.”

  With a start, Harry recalled the list he’d seen. There had been over ten thousand names on the prison list, those released and those ready to be released. As if reading his mind, Szabo gave a smile. “You underestimate me, Goldman. I have been a step ahead of you all the way, for I have planned this. Soon, my plan will come to fruition.”

  A second later, he leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes shrewd. “You must also understand by now that the process performed on you was incomplete. That is why you are weak, weaker than your girlfriend.”

  “How do you know that I’m not acting?” It was a stupid lie and an even dumber question, but Harry had to come up with something.

  Szabo, however, saw right through it and smirked. “You do not have a tail like your girlfriend. You are not as fast or as strong as she is. Against someone like me who has been fully transformed—twice—you stand no chance whatsoever. My personal feeling is that when you went through the process, it was interrupted.”

  Harry had already come to that conclusion months earlier. Piotr, the Russian rhino-boar hybrid, had smashed through the chamber at roughly the four-minute mark. It interrupted the process, but Harry had still gained enough strength to regenerate. “So, are you asking me if I want to go through the process again?”