The Conspiracy Chronicles Boxset 2

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The Conspiracy Chronicles Boxset 2 Page 6

by Michael Evans


  “Well, screw killing that man, I like the idea of running better now.” Jake dashes to the window, forcing his body against it, only to lazily ricochet off it.

  From the precision of the operation so far, I can’t tell whether it is the U.S. Military or some gang that the Syndicate hired, but either way, I will make sure they all regret coming here.

  “Give me a second to check in this closet.” I dash over to it, urging Jake to stay back with my hand. My instinct is to obviously rip out the Chimera Cube in front of him and begin creating weapons and bullet-proof armor for us out of thin air.

  In fact, my first desire is to pull out that laser gun and give it a try on the people approaching outside.

  But I know the second I do that, I will have betrayed my promise to my dad. And after everything he sacrificed for me, after all the years I spent idolizing him, I have to keep this hidden for him, if not for the entire world.

  I use the finger scanner on the backpack and rip open the zipper immediately upon leaving his sight. The closet is empty, not even a single pair of clothes hang on any of the racks inside, but I lie to Jake anyway. “I’m digging through a pile of clothes; I think there may be something useful at the back of this drawer.”

  I summon the multi-tasking skills from deep inside me to tap the Chimera Cube and whisper into it the word: parachute. I have no idea what it is about to build out of the trillions of atoms from the air around me, but as long as it can get us both to the ground, we will survive.

  With the pounding of the footsteps growing closer, Jake can’t even hear my whisper, but the Chimera Cube does, and within a second a parachute is formed in front of me, or more accurately the backpack that the chute deploys out of.

  “There’s a parachute in here!” I yell, and shove the Chimera Cube back into the bag. I reach for the parachute that has fallen to the ground from its spot briefly in the air and throw it out of the closet in Jake’s direction.

  He stares at me astounded.

  “You found this in there?”

  “Hell yeah, get it on and get the hell out of here.” I put my finger back on the scanner of the bag as I stand up. Between my fingers, I can feel the soft grip of the laser gun that I hope by some miracle has enough of whatever charge it takes to buy me some time.

  “What are you going to do?” Jake narrows his eyes at me as he puts on the backpack, fumbling around for the handle he will have to pull when he is ready to deploy it.

  “I’m going to kill these guys. I’ll find a way to get down there to you.” I near the door, preparing to open it. “When I open this, run outside into the main living area and try to find a porch or something you can jump off this building from. I’ll be your cover, and the moment you jump off, make sure to let that parachute out.”

  Jake doesn’t nod, instead he glances at me and then back at the closed door, already out of breath. They have searched through all the rooms by now. The penthouse is large, but not expansive enough to be a maze. We are the last room. And they know we are here.

  I don’t take my chances of waiting any longer.

  I don’t care how Jake thinks I got this laser gun.

  We need to survive.

  I whip out the laser gun from the bag. I don’t turn around to see Jake’s reaction, instead I push open the door and fire a shot at the person covered in military protective gear that hides their facial features and all of their skin. A blue ray of light shoots out the end of the gun, the force from which it is emitted from the laser causing there to be a harsh kickback in the laser gun.

  In the same moment in which I fire the laser, the man shoots a bullet at me. It connects with my upper left shoulder, inches from my heart, and an instant later one of the most intense pains I have ever experienced overwhelms me.

  “Agh!” The sound erupts from the person’s throat. It sounds more like an animal than a human, the creature desperately alerting everything around it that it is on its final breaths. The laser easily pierces through the armor, charring the skin on his chest, and likely shutting down his heart from the electrical impulse.

  The body in front of me falls, but there are another half a dozen people right behind, all ready to fire at me.

  They can shoot me as much as they want. As long as I don’t bleed out, I am invincible. The Chimera Cube will heal these wounds in seconds.

  “Sam, no!” Jake screams and pulls me back into the room.

  I manage to fire a laser at one of the dark shadows in the dimly lit hallway before Jake slams the door again. A hailstorm of bullets descends upon us, the sharp metal casings tearing apart the door like a colony of rabid termites.

  I throw Jake’s body off me, the storm of military personnel outside making our previous plan impossible. Without even thinking, I raise the laser gun and shoot one of its lasers right at the window. The laser cuts through the glass so fast, it appears as if an invisible force causes the window to shatter to a million pieces.

  The door explodes off its hinges.

  Jake doesn’t need for me to scream for him to know what to do next. He practically dives out the window, a number of bullets being shot in his direction. One connects with his lower leg, but his body manages to escape before any fatal wound can stop him.

  Now he will plummet over one thousand feet, a fall that my own fear of heights will make the most terrifying experience of my life (even more horrible than skydiving onto the prison) if I have to follow him.

  But if I follow him out, I will die.

  I have nothing to save my body from colliding with the cement in one horrific splatter and no time to use the power of the Chimera Cube to do so.

  After firing the shots at Jake, the military personnel cautiously enter the room, none of them wanting to end up with their hearts fried like their coworker. However, the second that the first of them steps inside, they hold up their gun at me, a huge military-grade rifle whose bullets can slice me apart in an instant.

  “This is the U.S. Military. Put your hands up and drop your weapon or we will shoot.” The voice echoes throughout the room, the eerie stillness inside the apartment sending chills down my spine. Everything is frozen. The personnel gathered in the hallway, the people waiting to raid us on the roof, and the other agents who are likely around the perimeter of the building, prepared to stop us if we try and get away.

  These people appear so bulky and tall that it is almost hard to believe that there is a real person behind their masks. They are probably all genetic mutants the government has engineered to be part of special operation forces in the military designed to kill.

  I don’t heed the person’s command.

  I let my finger press the button on the side of the laser gun, the lightweight material pushing backward against my wrist as a laser emits from its turquoise, stout, oval-shaped barrel.

  The body hits the floor nearly in the same moment that I press the trigger. The lasers shoot out of the gun at light-speed, causing the high-powered photons inside it to tear through the person’s skin and blood to gush out of them.

  Another person enters the room behind the dead body sprawled out on the floor. Even from the hesitant way they enter, I can tell they are confused. Unlike conventional guns that release bullets, the laser gun does not make any noise when the photons are released from it; the only byproduct from the explosion of force is a bright ray of light.

  Before the person can even entertain the idea of firing at me, I fire the laser directly at their head. The heavy helmet all of them wear that makes them look like freaks of nature is no competition compared to the force of the laser.

  After the second person falls to the ground, its lifeless body bleeding out on top of the other person, the remaining military personnel get the idea that if they continue to walk in, I will only shoot them.

  They switch their tactics rather quickly.

  I don’t care if they see this damn cube. I place my backpack on the ground and pick the cube up, its heavenly white texture bringing comfort to my panicked
nerves. As long as I tell myself that I have the power on my side, I’ll stay calm. As long as I let myself think I’m going to win, I won’t let the fear of losing, the fear of disappointing my father, cripple me.

  A deep silence permeates through the air, only magnifying the intrinsic desire inside me to run away. But the only place to run is jumping out that window and hoping the Chimera Cube can produce something that saves me from my fall.

  The only answer is to kill. Then, I can find out if Jake made it out okay.

  I place my finger on the cube, readying to whisper the three items that will save my life. Then, a dull ping hits my ears, a black object rocketing through the sky in the corner of my eyes.

  I know exactly what it is, and by the time it makes impact with the ground, it is already too late. I instantly feel as if I was delusional to try and combat the U.S. Military.

  They threw a grenade at me.

  I dive into the corner, using my body to shield the Chimera Cube and hands to protect my head.

  I press my finger down on the Chimera Cube, yelling above the explosion, “Heal me. Repair my wounds. Help me!”

  I have no clue which of the commands activated the machine into action, but I can feel the light surging through the cube beneath me as it unfolds, revealing the nanofabrication system inside it. In the same instant, the force of the explosion hits me. First the initial heat of the blast chars my skin, numbing the sensory neurons in my skin and causing blood to ooze out the pores on my skin. Then the force of the explosion followed by the shrapnel connects with me. More pain than I have ever wanted to feel in my entire life combined hits me in one wave as the metal digs into dozens of places in my body.

  Whatever they deployed on me is likely one of the best hand grenades in the world.

  And now it is going to kill me.

  I scream, a horrible, contorted scream that hurts so much that I question if it scraped the skin of my inner throat with its force. The life is draining from me, the blood swathing nearly every part of my skin as every muscle in my body flexes, causing me to writhe and twist about as the dust from the explosion burns my eyes.

  I slam my fist against the cube, exuding the last bit of energy I have. The shock hits me as I stare down at my leg, realizing that the limb is dangling from my body, bits of my bone torn from me by the metal chunks.

  The edges of my eyes are overtaken by the blackness, and any moment, I know my consciousness—my entire life—will be too.

  “Agh!” I force out one final scream, one desperate call for help, as I try to let the power of the mysterious cube save me from my death.

  The pain, anxiety, anger all boil into one horrific last thought.

  I lived my entire life devoid of joy because I constantly pushed my own self to the limit.

  Then, right when death overtakes me, the calming feeling settling over me and taking all my pain away, I feel a transformation take place. The same nanobots that healed the cut on my neck in Zion swarm my body. Now, of course, I can’t individually feel trillions of nanobots poking away at me. But I can feel every ounce of my body being put back together as new layers of skin and bone are built in, and the nanobots themselves create new blood cells for me to operate on.

  Within a matter of seconds, the bleeding stops, and all that is left over are the trillions of confused and shocked synapses in my brain that are rendering it almost impossible for me to think.

  But I have no time to kiss the Chimera Cube for saving my life.

  I have other people’s lives to end.

  With the dust beginning to settle, the debris and black chunks of wood denting the walls and littering the floor, I use the last few seconds I will have before they walk in to spawn the first thing that the searing pain in my leg reminded me of.

  The security robots from the Chimera facilities.

  I say the words killer robot, hoping that at least one of those keywords triggers something ghastly to be produced. The Chimera Cube folds open, and within seconds a robot identical to the security robots I have been unfortunate enough to see in action appears in front of me. I double-tap the cube to ensure that the robot stays as a fully formed object, so that the nanobots don’t deconstruct it.

  It is at least four feet wide, over six feet tall, and has the same compartment on its torso that will fire bullets out of it as the robots in the Chimera Facility.

  Please don’t kill me.

  I look at the thing, feeling more hopeless than ever. Within this range, if it chooses to lock on to me and shoot me in my head, it could kill me before the Chimera Cube even has the chance to save me.

  My fear seems to be unwarranted, though. After all, as the military personnel charge into the room, the robot does nothing.

  Damn, it’s not turned on.

  I keep my body shielded from their bullets behind the massive robot. All of them stay back near the doorway, afraid to move any closer to the robot that they likely assume killed their friends.

  The back of the robot has dozens of buttons, all of which I am unable to read from my position on the floor. I press as many of the buttons as possible, clicking multiple ones at once as I try and make something happen.

  Knowing my luck, I will click the one button that causes it to self-destruct, resulting in a rapid and fiery death for me. The robot responds to my commands, the entire structure coming to life and heating up beneath the touch of my palm. Instead of charging forward at it, the soldiers stand back at the doorway, their heavy breaths only exasperated by the amount of black smoke in the air.

  They have no idea that this robot is much more deadly than any laser gun they will ever see (even though laser guns don’t even exist yet as far as the general public knows). This robot nearly killed Riva and me.

  The robot shifts into gear the instant that it turns on. And by shifting into gear, I mean awakening into the killer beast it was designed to be. I close my eyes, clutching the Chimera Cube in my hand as I prepare for it to kill me.

  But it never turns around. Its eyes lock on to the targets in front of it and it wastes no time in delivering every ounce of pain they deserve. I hear the click of the gun compartment on the robot opening up, and feel the waves of force course through me as dozens upon dozens of bullets fire at the people in the doorway.

  They return their own bullets with equal force, the fireworks show that erupts in the middle of this bedroom comparing to even the most brutal turf wars.

  This thing is going to blow up.

  I hear two bodies drop to the floor, but don’t dare to look. The muffled sounds of someone calling backup cause me to shiver madly. The U.S. Military has hundreds of people they can call on backup; by the time they finally get to me, I will have killed thousands.

  My only way out is to run.

  I gulp, my heart pounding so fast in my chest that each of its beats melts into one continuous pounding sensation. For the first time since the madness has begun, I think about Noah, yet my mind is so numb to everything that does not pertain to my own survival that the thought of him being tortured and killed doesn’t even phase me.

  With my body on the verge of collapse from the stress of the moment, I hastily shove the laser gun into my backpack. Then I say the one thing that comes to my mind as I tap the Chimera Cube, instantly regretting it afterwards.

  “Hoverboard.” A dark-gray board with two straps for me to secure around my ankles appears milliseconds later. I double-tap the cube twice as it folds back up, the object being cemented into physical existence in this world. The hoverboard is already turned on, the thin board no larger than a skateboard remaining motionless about three feet in the air, beneath the layer of smoke.

  I throw the Chimera Cube into the open backpack and zip it up as fast as my fingers allow me to. The entire interaction takes about five seconds, and in that span of time bullets connect with my right foot, my left arm, and smoke exudes from the torso of the robot.

  Another round of deafening stomps shakes the penthouse as another row of so
ldiers descends upon the room.

  This is my last chance to make it out of here alive with the Chimera Cube in my hands. And as much as I freaking hate heights, the last thing on my mind is whether I will die from the fall or not. It is whether the Chimera Cube will end up in my hands or theirs.

  No one can take this away from me. It is my only chance at being a more powerful man than my father—more powerful than the Syndicate.

  I grab the levitating board and sprint through the smoke to where the cracked window is. One bullet manages to connect with my back, but by now enough smoke has been emitted from the robot to block the soldiers’ view of me.

  I jump onto the ledge of the window, the wind smacking my face the moment my lungs breathe in fresh air. Another shot is fired at me, connecting with the back of my knee.

  Then, I silence my fear with one sharp exhalation, and jump into the night sky.

  Chapter 8

  At this point I expect the bullets to stop, but now that I am falling, I can see the team of armored soldiers on the roof of the skyscraper. There are at least a dozen of them, all with high-powered sniper rifles around their shoulders and pistols in their hands. Their bullets all seem to hit me in one terrible blur.

  Instead of smoothly hopping onto the hoverboard and riding away into the sunset as I envisioned, my legs give out underneath the pressure and pain.

  I am now plummeting to the city streets below.

  My stomach drops out of me, or more accurately it stays at the top of the skyscraper where the explosion from the dying robot causes chunks of the skyscraper to rain down. But they don’t hit me—after all, I am falling too.

  I’m falling from the top of a hundred-story skyscraper. The bullets stop firing at me. Everyone suspects that I am dead. I want to scream; in fact, I just want to straight up cry in a little ball and pretend as if the wind penetrating every hole on my face causing tears to pour down my face is all part of one horrible simulation.

 

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