The Collective (25 page)

From the ridge a figure charged The Mountie firing wildly
at his blindside. The bullets pinged off the killer’s solid armor. Dazshal bore
down on his opponent, hoping to distract him long enough to allow Warden to get
to the mercenary. The Mountie spun, dropped to one knee and shot Dazshal in the
right leg and arm.  Carried on by adrenaline, Dazshal continued his attack
raising his knife high above his head to deal the finishing blow. The Mountie
twisted, caught the man’s wrist with his forearm, pulled a knife from his coat
and sunk the blade under the armored chest of Dazshal. Surprise quickly flashed
across Dazshal’s face. He knew of the The Mountie’s quickness and accuracy, but
he never would have thought the man could block his fiercest blow. Another of
Warden’s inner circle slumped to the ground as death gripped his cold body.

Warden finally cleared the group as he made his way toward
the mercenary, bullets rapidly pinging off his shield. He was a few yards away
from The Mountie when the disk dropped at his feet. He braced for the impact as
he was thrown backwards into the crowd of fighters, sliding along the ground
until his momentum was stopped by the side of the building. The shield crackled
and fizzled away, damaged beyond repair, but not before it saved his life.
Warden slowly gained his senses, he reloaded his gun and raised it in the
direction of The Mountie. He scanned the area, but there was no sign of his
attacker, he had disappeared as abruptly as he emerged. His brief involvement
had urged the bikers on, as they fought with renewed vigor.

Luchi had continued on to Reaper. The gang leader stood
broad-chested holding a short bat in his hand waiting on a worthy opponent.
Luchi emerged from the fighting and kicked Reaper across the face. The Scorpion
leader spat droplets of blood on the brown dirt. Luchi moved to hit Reaper with
the butt of his gun, but was blocked by the leader’s weapon with a speed and
effortlessness he had not expected. Reaper spun and kneed Luchi in the ribs. 
Falling backwards, Luchi fired a shot and watched as the bullet careened off
Reaper’s body armor. Before he could gain his balance, Reaper’s bat smashed the
side of Luchi’s face sending him spiraling unconsciously to the ground. The
Scorpion leader stalked toward him looking cautiously for any signs of
movement. When he was sure the man was without fight, Reaper let the bat fall
one more time splattering the ground with the referee’s blood.

Warden jumped to his feet. The fight with Reaper had
unfolded quickly and seemed to favor Luchi from the outset. Now another of his
inner-circle had fallen under the heels of the gang’s onslaught. Warden
holstered his pistol, pulled his sword and picked up another blade from a
fallen biker. He ran into the melee, cutting a path to Reaper with a savagery
that barely distinguished friend from foe. The bikers were falling all round
him.

Reaper could see the rage in the eyes of his mortal enemy.
He grinned and hit the hood of the truck behind him twice. The driver emerged
from the vehicle and rushed to Reaper’s side. The fear in his eyes turned to
dread as the leader spoke through his blood-stained teeth.

“Release the Beast.”

The lone biker walked to the back of the truck and faced
the two large doors held closed with a thick, silver chain with a brass lock.
As the gang member fumbled for the key, he could hear the low breathing coming
from the cab turning into a growl. He fidgeted with the lock, removed it, and
then slowly slid the chain past the iron handles trying not to raise the ire of
the creature within. He opened the doors and quickly hurried back from the
truck. Lurking in the darkness a figure lifted his head and stepped from the
cabin of the truck stretching its body to the full nine foot height. His
muscles flexed and glistened on his oily, yellow tinged body, a side effect of
genetic mutation gone wrong. Scientists who hoped to create super soldiers in
the past often ended up with grotesques like The Beast. The data for these
experiments were long burned and forgotten, but the results were a lot harder
to destroy. The Beast’s head was bald and muscular with his green eyes sunken
in beneath the scowl of his brow. His nose was two dots on the front of his
face. Green, yellow and red jagged daggers of teeth crowded his mouth. He
brought his forearms together and clanged the huge wrist gauntlets attached to
his arm. It was a war cry that startled the forces behind him, friend and foe
alike. He looked down at the pants he wore, stitched together in a patchwork of
colors, down to the steel-toed custom boots on his feet. Growling as he
breathed in the harsh, untainted air, free from captivity the monster looked at
the gang member who released him. The keyholder pointed a feeble finger in the
direction of The Beast’s prey. The monster turned and reached back into the
truck pulling out a long machine gun normally mounted on a truck due to its
weight. He picked it up with ease, his muscles tensing as he lumbered around
the truck that carried him. Once in position, he began to spray the fighting
with bullets. Bikers screamed with the rebels as they were cut down by The
Beast’s gun. Anyone in The Beast’s direct path or opposing him would be brought
down. The bikers who remembered the last time The Beast was released knew to
get out of the creature’s way as he lumbered towards the rebels. The sound of
the machine gun echoed louder than the cries of its fallen foes. The larger
armor piercing bullets tore through Warden’s ranks. Warden’s followers were
yelling and dying. Some tried to flee, but were cut down all the same. The
brave ones that turned and attempted to face The Beast were greeted with a
bloody death. Their shouts soundly silenced. When the ammunition was spent the
hulk threw the gun at its nearest adversary, crushing the nearest rebel under
the weight. He moved towards the fallen and crushed his head beneath his boot.
The Beast reared back its leg and kicked another of Warden’s comrades,
collapsing the woman’s body into a heap of shatters bones as her body flew
across the dust. He grabbed another man by the head and squeezed until no sound
came from him. Flinging the body like a weapon, he slammed the man into two
more of the rebels. The Beast roared taking pleasure in the mayhem he
created.   

Goll ran from the crowd firing his shotgun at the Beast, at
the last second the mutant lifted his large bracelets and the shells bounced
off his wrists. As Goll stood in awe of the blocked attack, the Beast lifted
his massive boot and kicked Goll shattering his ribcage and causing him to
collapse to the ground. The Beast lumbered toward him, stopping to grab a rebel
and throw him across the dirt. Goll grabbed a pistol near him and fired off
shots in succession as the monster came closer. The bullets bounced off his
body armor and steel bracelets as The Beast held his right forearm in front of
his face. The bullets finding his exposed skin seemed to have as much effect as
a mosquito bite. Goll was helpless and looked on in horror as The Beast dug his
fingers into his shoulder. The man from parts unknown’s muscles ripped as he
was picked off the ground. Goll yelled in pain. A rebel tried to come to his
rescue, but was slapped away with the creature’s powerful arms snapping the
man’s neck.

The Beast looked into Goll’s eyes. “I can see your fear.”

Goll flailed as the pain shot through his body. He tried to
reach for his axe, but his arm would not move. He could feel the hot breath of
the monster as he bit into his neck. Goll’s agony was silenced by the blood
filling his lungs. As he dangled from The Beast’s right hand, the monster
severed Goll’s head from his body. He threw the headless body down like a rag
doll. Goll’s head rolled into the dirt. 

Warden made his way to The Beast, but it was too late as he
saw his protégé ripped apart in front of him. He shot at The Beast’s chest and
the bullet pinged off the woven, chained armor. The second shot was blocked by
the bracelets. Warden maneuvered around the mutant looking for an opening. The
Beast suddenly uncrossed his hands, surprising Warden with his quickness. He
spun so as not to receive the full brunt of the blow and was slapped across the
dirty plain, his body coming to rest with a thud. Warden quickly rose to his
feet staring at the brute. The Beast bellowed another blood curling howl as he
advanced, crushing rebels beneath his feet.

Abel made his way to the Water Facility gate, pausing to
view the ensuing melee around him. The eruption of flames, death and dread
filled his senses. The battle was not going in their favor. Tommie Gun was
still fighting the remains of Distor’s army inside the Facility.  Now Warden
was fighting a monstrosity. Abel had heard stories of mutants and their awesome
power. He also knew they were rare. But here he stood, surveying the mayhem caused
by the towering creature. Abel knew he had to eliminate this new threat if they
had any hope of holding the Facility.

The Beast stalked toward Warden to finish him off. Warden
grabbed a discarded mace as he rushed the monster and slapped the mutant across
the side of the face with the sharp spikes. He rolled to the other side of The
Beast, bashing the weapon into the back of his right leg. The hulking biker
recovered quickly with a snarl, swatting Warden with a massive backhand that
sent the rebel leader flying across the dirt and the mace from his hand. The
Beast turned to Abel, upon seeing the rebel unarmed he stooped low, balled his
hands into fists and let out a long, deep, bone-chilling growl. Abel fought
down his fear as the behemoth approached for the killing blow.  Warden used the
distraction to slash across the back of The Beast, piercing his armor. The
creature roared. Warden smiled. If you can hurt him, you can kill him, he
thought. The Beast swung his arm around quickly and Warden rolled under it
towards Abel. The battle raged all around them, but the trio had carved out an
area for their personal fight. The Beast stretched out his hands and crouched
low. He growled deep at the pair, daring them to challenge him. Pulling the 9mm
from the small of his back, Abel fired the gun at the monstrosities head until
the clip was empty. The Beast slow reaction deflected the first bullet off the
iron bracelets, the hot lead cut into the creature’s brow, causing a gash.
Crimson fluid dripped into The Beast’s right eye clouding his vision.
Instinctively, the creature grabbed at his face to stop the bleeding. The sharp
nails from The Beast’s fingers dug into the gash making the cut worse. Warden
ran towards the mutant and slashed his sword across his right leg. The Beast
dropped to one knee.  Abel spotted a sword laying a few feet in front of him.
He leapt to his feet and grabbed the weapon without losing stride. With his
momentum carrying him, he jumped high in the air and plunged the sword into the
scaled chest of the creature with both hands. The mutant fell back howling in
shock unable to fight off his assailant. Abel pushed down until the hilt of the
blade rested on leathery, tanned skin. Some of the bikers began to fall back,
the death of The Beast shaking the gang’s morale and putting into doubt their
confidence in an assured victory.  Abel looked up and realized the mutant had
fallen in front of the gang leader.  Reaper smiled raising his weapon,
undaunted by his best warrior lying dead in front of him. Abel stared back at
him, his gun was spent, the sword was deep in his last opponent. Maybe he would
not taste victory today, Abel thought. He rose slowly as Reaper trained the gun
on him. 

“So this is how it ends.” Reaper said as he gripped the
weapon.

       “I
guess so.” Abel responded.

Reaper squeezed the trigger and Abel flinched. But no sound
came from the gun. The trigger was stuck as Reaper tried to force it with his
finger. He used his other hand to violently tap the top of the gun hoping to
knock some of the grime from it. Abel reached down and gripped the hilt of the
sword; with one solid thrust he freed the blade from his adversary’s unmoving
chest. As Reaper continued to hit the defective weapon, Abel slowly
approached.  Reaper dropped his weapon and pulled a knife from his waist. The
knife had a thick handle, the blade separated into four serrated ends. A
dangerous weapon, but no match for the sword Abel carried.

“How did you say it?  This is how it ends.” Abel mocked.

“Yeah. But not how you’d like.” Reaper said confidently.

Abel felt a smirk come across his face. Reaper was smug to
the end. Abel held the sword tightly in his left hand, expecting Reaper to run
at him at any moment. Abel was unfamiliar with Reaper’s custom knife, what the
gang leader held in his hand was no ordinary blade. The leader was waiting for
Abel to get a little closer, as he held the knife tip pointed straight at his
opponent. Abel stepped closer, suddenly the tip of the knife exploded towards
him. Abel’s eyes widened as he braced for the impact, abruptly a figure lunged
in front of him taking the ballistic knife in the chest. The man who saved Abel
fell limp to the ground on his side. Abel dropped his sword as he caught Grise.
In a flash, Warden came from Reaper’s left side. He swung the sword once. The
gang leader’s head was on the ground before his body could react.

As Grise turned on his back with the knife protruding from
his heart, he looked up at Abel and grinned, and then his eyes closed. 

Abel grabbed the man’s strong hand as red fluid formed in
the corner of his mouth. “Grise, hold on. There’s a medical bay here. What were
you thinking?”

Grise opened his eyes and exhaled his last words. “I’m just
an old soldier doing my duty…I swore to protect you…” His voice trailed off and
his unblinking eyes were affixed on Abel. His hand slackened, falling from
Abel’s grip. Abel touched his hand to Grise’s chests and thought words of honor
to befit his fallen friend. He placed Grise on the ground carefully, then
turned to see Isnor and Forsum staring at him. They shared a knowing nod and
began walking back to the entry.