Reverence Page 12

  “I know someone’s here. There’s no point in lying. If you comply, you can go on to the academy. Give yourself a better life. You'll no longer be forced to call this your home.”

  The man looked at him with red eyes.

  “You’re the devil,” was all he said, “you’re the devil.”

  “The devil, huh?” Will responded, as if weighing that consideration. “Fine then, join Danny.”

  A single shot rang out and a single shell hit the metal grating of the catwalk. It was quiet once again, and Luis found himself tapping his foot in his anxiousness.

  “So, now what?” he blatantly yelled up at Will, who leaped back down to join his team. He could hardly bring himself to look them in the eyes.

  “Let's head back.”

  It was then, just as the troops were nearly at the exit of the chamber, that Mitch's voice came over the intercom:

  “Unit 21, every box in these trucks is empty.”

  Empty?

  Right at that moment set charges went off above, the booms echoing in the chamber. The troops rushed to the door, but didn’t go completely through. No one was sure what the hell was going on. Will looked up, only to see several beams snapping loose. Oh, hell. Humongous metal bars came crashing down on top of them, some even crushing segments of the intersecting catwalks. Will and Luis, being the farthest from the door, were unable to avoid the large debris, and were crushed under the hail.

  Val managed to leap back, but a beam crashed right in front of the doorway, a sickening crunch following. A soldier’s leg revoltingly protruded from the wreck. They were trapped.

  As the dust began to rise into clouds, gunfire suddenly poured on them from all angles, particularly from the upper levels. Many troops were rushing onto the remaining catwalks. Val recognized the firearms as AK-47s. They were automatic weapons, but not the best for precision. Not that it mattered with the UNR regiment caught so off guard. Several were hit and collapsed to the cold floor.

  From what Val clearly picked up on the microphones in her ears, she knew some of her comrades were still breathing, wounded yet still managing to cling to life. For the moment, she ignored them and raised her PSD rifle. The cyborg began to fire, mowing down several of her opponents. Many were unfortunate enough to fall off the ledge above and crash into the computers and left over mechanics. The remaining UNR troops took cover in a large aisle of wooden crates. Regardless, splinters of wood flew and more casualties piled on for them. Val's eyes were keeping her CPU busy, tracking well over sixty enemy troops. Her kill rate as of yet was at ten. She would soon have to reload, not so simple with the open range they'd become.

  Bia helped her squadron out best she could, raining fire at a group high above their right. The assailants easily took cover behind metal pillars and dense walls, not making easy targets.

  Fuck this we need some damn offense! Bia and a comrade rushed behind a large forklift, now able to see behind at least one of the pillars from their vantage point, and the enemies taking cover behind it. Shots rang out, joining the chorus, and the UNR gained three more kills.

  Meanwhile, one of the beams shifted and Will emerged, roughed up, but otherwise just dandy. He tossed the beam aside as he surveyed the situation. His adrenal glands surged to extreme levels, levels only a super soldier could reach. Things began to slow, and he saw clearly in the chaos of bullets and death. Already eleven of the twenty UNR soldiers he'd brought with him were face down on the ground. The remaining troops were barely holding their own, and for good reason. These bastards were no amateurs and were incredibly well trained. Will also noted that the beams had crushed his M-16.

  Their ruse would only last for a minute longer. Against average men it could’ve worked, in all likelihood would have, but not against these three super soldiers. He wondered whether they knew that or not. He walked over to a downed UNR soldier and stripped him of his M9 handgun and the reloads strapped to his belt. In the corner of his eye, he saw Luis emerge as well, a look of annoyance clearly written on his face.

  Firmly in his hand was his Smith & Wesson Model 29 revolver, intact. Unlike Will, he had held onto it tightly during the distraction. He too, figured it was a simple tactic to slow them down and immediately got to work. Not a single round fired missed or hit a wall. Each shot was a kill, and between the three of them, this skirmish would end in a flash.

  From his vantage point, Neal assessed the action below. Things were going as best they could for the rebel troops, but they'd taken losses as well. Suddenly the pillar he hid behind took a shower of bullets, causing sparks and blowing large chunks out of the column. His heart raced, and when the bullets finally ceased he peeked to see a pair of UNR troops using a forklift as cover. Neal realized these assailants were the ones most likely to hit him from his current position and he took the opportunity while they were reloading fresh magazines to return fire.

  Luis emptied the last round of his revolver into an opponent. Most men would prefer a machine gun or rifle in such conditions, but not him. He preferred his kills personal. As he whirled around to take aim at a few adversaries on the opposite side of the room, he saw one soldier behind a forklift take heavy fire to the chest before falling dead. Miserable idiot, that vehicle is hardly any sturdier than the other rusted heaps lying around this dump. But then he spotted another UNR troop taking cover, crouching with her head down. Bia.

  He looked up and saw the gunman, who stopped firing at her, but didn't pull away. Reloading? No, bait. Bia took it and stood up, facing him with her weapon at the ready.

  “Get down!!” Luis yelled. For the first time in his life, he felt helpless.

  The man fired first, a sustained burst of three shots. Bia took the shots in her abdomen, and Luis could feel something inside him lurch as they exited out of her lower back. She, like so many others during this battle, hit the floor hard.

  Luis didn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second. He put his gun away on his hip and ran to her. Instantly she felt his strong arms swoop down and lift her off the ground. He said nothing, didn’t even look down at her as he held her. He only kept his eyes forward and rushed to where the others were hiding at the crates.

  Will followed his movements with angered eyes. During that brief sprint, tons of renegade soldiers took shots at him. Luis took damage to the head, shoulder, even his arm. The ping of the bullets hitting the neoartium was like a ballet.

  “What the fuck are you doing?!!”

  Then Will saw that it was Bia he held in his arms, and for reasons unbeknownst to him, he wished he could’ve taken those words back.

  Even the other UNR troops were surprised by the move. Luis settled behind the fragile cover offered by the wooden structures. Blood ran down his head, past what little was left of his ear, and down his neck. He could also feel the warm substance on the inside of his jacket, but he was in no need of medical attention. His focus was Bia, first and foremost. Everyone else, even the mission itself, became secondary to Bia’s needs as she struggled to hold on. The bullets went clean through, right above her belly button. Luis placed a hand on her wound, applying pressure as needed, careful not to exert too much force in fear of crushing her ribs. She looked up at him, her breath ragged. Her hand reached up to touch his face gently. She managed to slow her breathing, enough and actually speak.

  “I can’t believe it,” she laughed, “to think you'd end up saving me again.”

  Luis wasn't sure how to respond. He just kept the pressure constant, despite the fact that her heart was jumping from dangerously slow to abnormally fast. He was a fighter, not a medic. He couldn't be a hundred-percent positive what any of these signs meant.

  “Yeah, but we’re not through yet,” he finally replied, saying only what came to his head first, “and I swear we're both going home at the end of the day.”

  Bia planted a hand firmly on the back of Luis' head as her smile vanished. Without warning, she pulled him in for a kiss. This one seemed so tender compared to the others, not rushed, or t
hrough a blur of adrenaline. Luis savored the taste of her lips, but it was soured by the additional taste of iron. He wiped his lip, finding some of her blood on it. When his eyes went back to her, she had that smile again, but now her eyes were halfway shut, that beautiful face paling. Luis panicked, the first time in his life he’d felt the human tendency of fear.

  Just as he thought about what he should do, a small object landed right next to him: a grenade. His sensors warned him it was heated prior to being thrown. Even for a cyborg, a super human, milliseconds would not be enough time to hurl it elsewhere. The soldiers around him cowered and cursed, but Luis gripped the grenade in both hands, and then turned away from everyone as he brought it close to his armored chest. His hold was like a bear trap, though even he wasn’t sure what would happen next.

  Chapter 13 One Last Attempt

  April 9, 2065 - Target Zone: Jefferson National Forest

  Luis felt his whole body shudder as the grenade went off. The boom rumbled like an angry god in his ears. All heads turned in his direction, astonished to see the cyborg still standing. All the grenade had seemed to do was cause him loose his footing for a moment. His arms and hands had taken a great amount of the shrapnel, but the crates in front of him had also been lightly pelted. Smoke billowed from between his fingers, and so did blood, dribbling to the floor. Luis was in a decent amount of pain, which one could derive from his face.

  He winced as he stood and let the remains of the grenade drop to his feet like crumbs. Luis looked at his hands and forearms, seeing the shrapnel from the grenade had indeed embedded into the flesh. Chunks of flesh were missing in some areas, in others completely torched. Some semblance of sleeves remained on his overcoat. All of these wounds were superficial, however, and his CPU told him everything internal was in working order.

  “Sir, are you–” said one soldier, stuttering, “–uh, are you okay?”

  Luis’ stone cold eyes stared at him for a second.

  “You,” he said in a near yell as he picked up his revolver, “Watch her! If she dies, it's on your head!”

  “Yes, sir!!”

  The soldiers took her in, one ducking to avoid the splinters of wood as he opened up his medical kit. Luis left the crates behind, moving back into the midst of the gunfire.

  He walked over to where Bia had been hit, analyzing the bullet on the ground. He backtracked the trajectory to the gunman on the ledge. Two other shooters had just joined him and all three of them were looking at him intently. Luis’ eyes locked with only one: Neal. All three cocked their weapons, the woman to his left firing first, and then joined by the two others. Their hopes were pinned on inflicting more damage to the UNR troops.

  Luis tightened his grip on the Smith & Wesson. The cyborg ran at the trio and leaped onto a crate, before bounding up to the second floor. Luis landed right behind them and waited impatiently as they turned to face him. Those few seconds were almost amusing to Luis, and as soon as one of them did turn, he acted swiftly. The man's eyes showcased his terror as he discovered Bacalov was dead in his face. Luis pulled the trigger, sending blood, small pieces of flesh and bone flying over the edge of the upper level. The sound of the shot was like a clap of thunder.

  Neal stepped in front of the woman, preparing to fire off the last of his bullets.

  Luis slapped Neal as gently as he could, still the blow sent him crashing through an office window on the second story of the warehouse, landing on a desk, and knocking its dusty papers and computer clean off.

  The girl tried to run, but Luis snatched her by the throat before she could get very far. She only got out one good gasp before his worn down fingers did their work. Quite hauntingly, he brought her face close to his. Her eyes were already red from asphyxiation, and he was meticulous with the hold. Her life would end shortly, but not before she absorbed the terror of being faced with the super soldier as an opponent. He hurled the woman over the edge of the mezzanine with ease, sending her flying over the crates and slamming into a wall. The smear of blood left behind ensured her demise.

  From there Luis rushed to where he’d seen Neal land. Val leaped up onto the second level as well, crunching glass beneath her feet. Luis has done his job well, breaking their first line of defense and all, but what the hell is he doing now? She walked into the small office to see Unit 18 checking on Neal. From what she could see, he was still alive, only unconscious.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Nobody touch him,” was all he said as he began to leave the room. Val threw him a look of surprise and walked over to the fallen man.

  “We have strict orders to–”

  “Don't touch him!!” Luis yelled, his eyes giving off a true sense of ferocity.

  Val stopped herself from retaliating with harsh words, her first proposed course of action. Her own eyes met Luis’ with a fiery intensity. With a few more seconds of cooling off, she felt prepared to engage him a little more tacitly. Before she got the chance, the sound of gunfire chimed in her ears. There’s no time for this shit.

  Val left the room. No difference, the Chancellor would deal with him, so back to the mission at hand.

  ***

  Some distance away, Will leaped back onto the catwalk, gunning down several men. His M9 needed constant reloads, which he found rather annoying. He only had one more before he'd have to go bare knuckles into this battle. Not that he’d mind, it'd just take longer. On this catwalk alone, twenty soldiers challenged him, and he was intent on putting down the ones closest to him with nothing but his hands.

  Jacob, meanwhile, watched the slaughter of his men right before him. This surprise attack was certainly helping the cause, but came with heavy losses. He’d been sticking to the rear of the assault but as the battle raged on, he’d crept up to the front line. The cyborgs were inarguably the greatest killers to set foot on the earth. They'd been outnumbered so greatly, but it made no wall for their victory. They really are monsters. Then again, I sent them off to their deaths. Jacob tucked that thought into a corner of his mind, not to be revisited any time soon.

  He instead focused on his fight. On this very catwalk was one of the monsters, cutting down his men at a startling rate. A vicious kick sent one man flying over the catwalk, while yet another received an elbow to the chest, eliciting an instant kill. Near the back of the group, Jacob felt his stomach rise up to his throat. He wanted to call the retreat already, but it wasn't time quite yet. Damn it…wait. Jacob stepped near the railings to get the view he needed, and indeed he saw the target they'd come for. He looked down at his watch anxiously. We don’t have to stall for as long as I thought.

  “Neal, come in, we have our objective,” he called to Neal's personal channel, receiving no response, “Neal, come in!!”

  Jacob cursed himself. He’d sent his friend to die. The vain struggle was no different from sending lambs to a hungry wolf. But now wasn't the right time to grieve. He wouldn't waste the lives of his remaining soldiers.

  “All regiments, Order Scramble!! We're done here!” he yelled.

  Just then, a bullet caught his arm, forcing him to drop his gun. The machine walked over the corpses casually, over to the downed soldier without a single word. Yes, Jacob thought, it's him. The one father is so particular about. Now he would also be brought to death by this monster’s hand. The devil now spoke to him in a loud voice as he drew within four meters range:

  “You must be their commanding officer, but what rank?”

  Jacob wanted to say something, but his mouth couldn't produce a sound. The cyborg's smile grew as he stepped closer.

  “Are you gonna tell me or what?”

  That bastard, he's just toying with me. Jacob let out a breath of agitation and then sat down on his knees, swallowing his fear. The order had been given, so at least his mission had been completed. The man closed his eyes, awaiting the solemn end.

  “A lieutenant, now quit wasting my time.”

  Will understood. Just another miserable life that belonged to h
im anyway. He raised his weapon and pulled the trigger, to no result.

  Jacob’s eyes cracked open upon hearing the click. Sweat began to pour out of him and his fear had returned. The smirk on the cyborg’s face told Jacob what he was truly in for. It had known full well the last bullet was buried in the man’s arm. He was on the verge of pissing himself, and could only ponder what the cyborg would do to him now. His men had retreated to other rooms as he'd ordered, leaving him completely alone, not that anyone could change his fate at this point.

  “It looks like you’re going to live a little longer. Just a little.”

  “JACOB, GET OUT OF THE WAY!”

  Will gave no mind to the now rolling lieutenant, focusing on the voice that had come from down the corridor at the catwalk’s end. It was then a small explosion rocked his chest armor. It caused him to stumble but did not knock him off his feet. A grenade launcher. Will looked to see a woman emerging from the darkness, still aiming at him as if she were a real adversary.

  Jacob meanwhile had luckily cleared the blast range, but he now gawked at the woman as well. This rescue did not alleviate his turmoil in the slightest.

  “What the hell? You heard my orders! Go!!” Why Gabby, he thought, why did she have to be so stupid?!

  The cyborg studied her face, and then looked at Jacob. They looked…similar. Related? In fact, he dared to assume they were siblings. Will scoffed.

  “Step away from him, NOW!!” she commanded.

  “Do you plan to stop me?” the cyborg asked with a near laugh. He grabbed onto Jacob's head in one hand, applying pressure and causing him to holler in pain.

  “Will, ENOUGH!”

  Jacob felt the pain ease, even though some blood had been drawn. Will's eyes narrowed as he threw the man to the floor of the catwalk. He took a step closer, leaving the officer to his own.

  Gabby didn't move an inch and held her gun steady. There was no fear in her cold eyes, just anger.