Friction

by Dwayne Gill

  Two more burning sensations lit his back and side, and while Daniel wasn’t feeling the pain acutely, his body was responding, for he felt things around him slowing down. His bat swings seemed sluggish and weak, almost like he was fighting underwater. A fresh set of hands joined in, possibly the man from the third floor who’d finally made his way downstairs. The group of attackers were punching, stabbing, and slashing him, the punishment escalating and wearing him down.

  Daniel felt himself swaying, out of balance, so he tried to focus on one assailant at a time, but his vision was blurring. He swung wildly, but the men were too fast now and were toying with him. He thought he could hear sirens in the distance, and maybe that was what prompted the men to stop their assault, for they had backed away. He heard a voice speaking nearby but couldn’t understand it until it got closer.

  “We gotta get out of here,” it said. “Now.”

  Daniel felt himself falling and heard the clang of the bat hitting the floor. His descent seemed to take forever, and he had no strength left to stop it. He embraced it, knowing he was spent, and felt his head bounce and come to rest as he hit the floor.

  It was hot in the house. Daniel had forgotten about the fire, which had spread rapidly, now engulfing the room in a thick haze. He saw men sprinting away with shirts pulled over their faces to protect themselves from the smoke.

  “This is where you say goodbye, Daniel,” said the voice. It sounded distorted and robotic, and he was sure he didn’t recognize it.

  Daniel thought he could hear Layla’s voice too but realized it was only a memory. In his dying moments, his darkness had allowed him to recall something pleasant, but as quickly as the memory appeared, it evaporated, fueled by one last surge of fury. With every ounce of strength he had left, Daniel turned over, reached above him to where he knew the voice was, and tried to grab on to something, anything.

  Daniel found the barrel of a gun. He tugged but couldn’t budge it. Either his strength had completely expired, or the man on the other end was incredibly strong.

  Before Daniel could see his attacker’s face, the barrel exploded, sending a sharp pain through his chest.

  Darkness had finally overcome him.

  A Leg Up

  September 29, 2028

  10:00 p.m. CST

  Chicago, Illinois

  The silver sedan finally pulled back into the driveway after being absent for the last two hours. Cane nudged Daniel, who was in the passenger seat, reading. “They’re back,” said Cane.

  Daniel looked up and sighed. “So, can we go in yet?”

  “Not yet,” said Cane.

  Daniel grunted and resumed reading.

  They’d been monitoring the house since last night, detailing the number of occupants and observing their behavior. Cane was an old pro at this approach when dealing with the enemy. Daniel, on the other hand, had always practiced a more direct and less tedious approach.

  At first, Daniel had been excited to tag along, eager to see how Cane worked and curious about the techniques that made him so effective. As time went by, however, the monotonous grind had been weighing on him.

  Lynks had uncovered a wealth of information the past two weeks about the marked men and their operations. He’d used information found on Amos’s and Harvey Foster’s cell phones, cross-referencing it with known BioFare company locations to pin down where the terrorists were operating. However, their enemy had caught on quickly and had been abandoning ship faster than they could reach them.

  BioFare was a weapon manufacturing company contracted by the U.S. government to mass-produce the new-generation Eguns and other high-tech devices, like EMPs. Lynks discovered the connection between BioFare and Vinson, the supposed leader of the marked men, a few weeks ago. The terrorists had been using the company locations for their own sinister purposes, and the damage they could do from within was frightening.

  Not only did BioFare produce Eguns for the military, but they were also responsible for keeping the current hardening technology one step ahead of EMP blast capabilities. From what Cane had seen so far, BioFare was likely making EMPs with far greater power than the electronic guns could withstand, which was an alarming development. Technology capable of disarming a platoon of U.S. soldiers would be something a lot of enemies would pay top price to get their hands on.

  For the past couple of weeks, BioFare appeared to be scrambling to mask their operations, though Cane had no way of legitimately bringing them into the light, nationally. What he could do, however, was raid the facilities he located and kill everyone associated with them, which was what they were here to do.

  This house, a two-story building belonging to a former doctor, had been a fortunate discovery, one they needed to approach carefully. They’d hoped to find one of Vinson’s lieutenants here, but so far there’d been no sign of any.

  While storming a house without a lieutenant present might not appear to be a smart use of their time, there was another valuable target inside. That was what had brought Daniel on board with the surveillance in the first place, although he was rethinking his position now.

  “I thought these things helped cops bond,” said Daniel.

  “What things?” asked Cane.

  “Stakeouts,” said Daniel.

  “This isn’t a stakeout,” said Cane. “And we’re not cops.”

  “Maybe that’s why we’re not having a good time.”

  “You’ve been reading the whole time,” said Cane. “And drawing attention to us, too. That light is too bright.”

  Daniel groaned and powered off the small, bright light he’d stuck to his door. “It’s because you don’t talk, other than to update me on someone’s location in the house. What they’re eating, if someone picked their nose. It’s exhausting.”

  “That’s what you do on a stakeout,” said Cane.

  “Ah-ha! I thought you said it wasn’t a stakeout,” said Daniel.

  Cane smiled. Though it might have appeared they were bickering, the two had grown to like and respect each other. They’d formed a unique bond, partially fueled by their mutual interest in destroying the marked men.

  “You could read on your phone,” said Cane. “It would draw far less attention.”

  “Nonsense. Nothing beats the smell of a good book,” said Daniel. “You can’t feel the texture of the pages on an electronic device.”

  “You still reading that same novel?” asked Cane, referring to his copy of The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

  “I’m on my fourth read-through, actually,” said Daniel. “Bob was right. It’s a classic.”

  Daniel had likely been reading it more to honor Bob, the guard at the prison where Daniel had been incarcerated. Bob had sacrificed his life to help Daniel escape. Daniel had also been honoring him in another unconventional way by using Bob’s prosthetic leg as a weapon. Daniel had first used it on impulse during his escape and now seemed reluctant to part ways with it.

  “When this goes down, you’re using a gun,” said Cane. “No clubs, no legs. The guys inside will be armed. With guns.”

  “I don’t like guns,” said Daniel.

  “Would you two lovebirds stop flirting and pay attention?” It was Calvin, speaking through both Daniel and Cane’s earpieces.

  Daniel jumped. “I’m still not used to this thing,” he said, slapping the side of his head.

  “That’s eight occupants over a twenty-four-hour period,” said Lynks, also through the earpiece. He and Calvin were stationed back at Calvin’s mansion, watching from afar. Along with communication, Calvin and Lynks were monitoring the house using small cameras Cane had installed in various places around the property.

  “It’s now or never,” said Calvin.

  “Nothing makes a man so adventurous as an empty pocket,” said Daniel.

  All was silent for several moments while Cane raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s a quote from The Hunchback of Notre Dame,” said Daniel.

  “Appropriate,” said Calvin.

&n
bsp; “Let’s go,” said Cane. “Remember what we talked about,” he said to Daniel. They’d been through their strategic approach more than a few times.

  “I got it,” said Daniel.

  Cane exited the car and walked around to the trunk to grab a few things. “Lynks, keep an eye on the upstairs windows.”

  Though they’d been able to count eight men, they couldn’t be sure there weren’t more inside.

  “When you see someone coming downstairs, tell me,” said Cane. “The only thing—”

  “Cane,” said Lynks, interrupting him.

  “Yeah,” said Cane. He was still bending over, looking through the trunk.

  “Turn around,” said Lynks. “Look at the house.”

  “Oh, boy,” said Calvin.

  Cane spun around to see Daniel halfway to the house, holding the prosthetic leg. Cane looked on the back seat of the car and saw the pistol Daniel was supposed to be using.

  “That damn leg,” said Cane.

  *

  Daniel approached the door of the house, gripping Bob’s prosthetic leg. He’d cleaned it up well after its extensive use a couple of weeks ago, even getting blood from the hard-to-reach places. However, despite the restoration, it was about to get messy once again.

  The tactical approach Cane had detailed the night before and reiterated today seemed unnecessary. Daniel was willing to bet once he plowed down the front door, the marked men inside would be unprepared. Besides, Cane would pull up the rear to cover him if needed.

  The house wasn’t as remote as they would’ve hoped, but at least it wasn’t butted up against other residential homes. Another reason not to use guns, thought Daniel.

  He could easily see inside now; two men were standing in the den, while another sat on the sofa. Three of the eight were accounted for and close to the front entry.

  Daniel kicked the frame of the metal door, easily prying it from its latching mechanism. The house, despite belonging to a doctor, was of old construction and not designed to withstand the force Daniel possessed.

  The door flew open wildly, and Daniel burst through. The den had concealed a fourth man, but it was no matter. The more the merrier, thought Daniel.

  Upon quick inspection, none of the four were armed. They were holding cards and drinks, apparently in the middle of a game of poker.

  As Daniel sprinted inside, the men wore shocked expressions but reacted quickly. Daniel didn’t know where they kept their weapons, but he didn’t want to give them a chance to retrieve them.

  Daniel smashed the first man in the face with the leg as he tried to back away. The loud smack jerked the man’s head to the side, and he fell backward onto the couch.

  The second man, who’d been standing beside the first, turned his back to flee, but Daniel brought the leg down on top of his head. The man fell to his knees, dazed, though Daniel knew he’d recover. For now, he had to engage the two remaining men, who were on their feet.

  The third man had spilled his beer all over himself and the table as he scrambled from the sofa. He was headed toward the back corner of the den, where Daniel guessed someone had stashed a gun. Daniel dove over the sofa and landed at the man’s feet, showing improbable athleticism as he extended. He tripped the marked man and sent him tumbling to the floor.

  Meanwhile, the fourth opponent had exited his chair more gracefully, giving him time to reach the adjoining kitchen counter. He fumbled through a drawer, but before he had a chance to arm himself, Cane put two bullets in the man’s chest. He slumped over the counter and slid to the floor, landing in a heap.

  “Men moving upstairs,” said Lynks through the earpiece.

  Cane quickly finished off the three wounded men as they tried to stand and slid to his right, finding a good angle at which to intercept the ones who would soon be descending. Daniel walked over and put his back to the wall beside the bottom of the stair opening. He looked at Cane and gave the police gesture for “keep your eyes peeled.” Cane shook his head sarcastically.

  Daniel heard heavy steps, signaling at least one person’s descent, and a few seconds later, someone emerged, holding a gun. Cane easily had the drop on him and landed a headshot before the assailant could take aim. The man fell forward from the third step and landed hard on the floor, face-first.

  “Careful,” said Daniel. “We’re not here to kill everyone.”

  The second man wasn’t as reckless; his footsteps slowed to a stop, and Daniel heard him run back upstairs.

  “Don’t…” said Cane, but Daniel was already making his way up. “…chase him.”

  Before Daniel reached the top, he heard Lynks again. “Three on the second floor,” he said. “Two are climbing out the window.”

  Daniel stopped and climbed back down, finding Cane at the base of the stairs.

  “I’ll go after the other two,” said Daniel.

  “Let them go,” said Cane. “We can’t chase them all over the neighborhood.”

  Ignoring Cane’s statement, Daniel ran to the front door and was about to loop to the rear of the house.

  “They’re not running away,” said Lynks. “I can’t see in the backyard, but I’m watching both property exits. They’re not leaving.”

  Cane was already upstairs, and Daniel heard a series of gunshots from the second story before all was quiet.

  What are they doing? thought Daniel, trying to figure out why the two men outside weren’t leaving the property. Are they coming in through the back door? It seemed like the only rational alternative to running away. The marked men rarely cowered from anyone, even when they knew they were outclassed.

  Daniel saw a door on the opposite side of the den. It was closed, but something about it screamed off-limits. A hallway opened into the den, close to the forbidden room’s entry. What if there’s something, or someone, in there they need to access? thought Daniel. He crept closer to the hallway entrance and listened.

  As Cane made his way down to the first floor, Daniel pointed to the hallway entrance, signaling what he was doing. Daniel couldn’t be sure, but his assassin friend looked impressed by his tactical approach.

  One of the remaining two had to be the man they were looking for, so Daniel had to treat the situation delicately, which wasn’t his area of expertise.

  He heard noises in the back of the house; they were getting closer. Cane took aim and waited at the room’s edge, but he wouldn’t be able to help until Daniel identified the two men.

  With his back to the wall, Daniel waited until he saw a man’s left arm come into view, holding a gun. Daniel wasn’t familiar enough with firearms to easily identify different types of weapons, but this one was clearly an assault rifle. He leaned his prosthetic leg against the wall, grabbed the barrel of the weapon, and yanked the man like a rag doll, sending him flying into the middle of the room. Daniel held the rifle he’d ripped away like a club, ready to pounce. The man’s eyes widened as he saw Cane pointing his pistol at him, causing him to freeze in place, kneeling on the floor.

  “That’s him,” said Daniel as he prepared to engage the final enemy. He didn’t have time to spin the gun around and take aim as the marked man rounded the corner, so he swung it like a club. The man had to raise his rifle to deflect the worst of the incoming blow, but by that time, Daniel had dropped his rifle and was right on top of him.

  Daniel grabbed him by the throat as he desperately tried to maneuver his gun into position. The man landed an amusing head-butt, which would likely be a damaging blow against typical opponents, but it only elicited a smirk from Daniel.

  Daniel lifted him by the neck into the air and crashed his opponent face-first into the wooden floor. The marked man’s head cracked, and his neck bent at a lethal angle. He was dead on impact.

  The lone survivor kneeled in the middle of the den with a sarcastic grin plastered on his face. By now, both Daniel and Cane were used to this seemingly universal gesture and reaction from the terrorists, but it still never ceased to get on Daniel’s nerves.

 
“Nice to see you, Tom,” said Daniel.

  It was Tom Boles, Jordyn’s father. The man who tried to kill her, twice, and who’d also killed Taryn’s father. Here he knelt, what was left of him, at least. Amos or another lieutenant had likely brainwashed the man years ago, for he was nothing more than another terrorist doing the marked men’s bidding.

  “All clear?” asked Lynks.

  “We’re good,” said Cane.

  “The eagle has landed,” said Daniel.

  “That’s not a relevant phrase, big guy,” said Calvin. “Love the enthusiasm, though.”

  Daniel eyed Tom and wondered if the man had any emotion or feeling left in him. He’d begun to understand the pattern of the men who took the mark and how they seemingly had no control over their subsequent change, but it was no less baffling to him.

  “You tried to kill your own daughter. Twice,” said Daniel.

  Tom smiled. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

  Daniel looked over his shoulder at the mysterious door. “What’s in there?”

  Tom stared straight ahead without flinching.

  “Let’s find out,” said Daniel. He walked to the door, grabbing his leg on the way, and kicked it in.

  The room was dark and mostly empty, aside from a hospital bed in the middle. The room appeared to have been transformed into a small medical clinic. Trays holding surgical-looking tools sat on counters lining the walls, and there was a huge industrial sink in the corner.

  Daniel would’ve assumed it was a room to patch up the injured until he saw the bed’s occupant. A man lay on his back, restrained, wearing an oxygen mask. “Cane, you need to see this,” said Daniel.

  Cane walked over to Tom, pushed a wet cloth over his mouth and nose, and after a few seconds, the man was out. Chloroform was one of Cane’s staples.

  Cane walked into the room and looked around. They stood over the unconscious man and saw a tray with a syringe lying on top. “I know what this is,” said Cane.