The Harvester (24 page)

Dorian looks at us. “Anything?” he asks us.

“Nothing, Dorian,” Kelly Marie replies.

“Check every nook and cranny of this fake church,” I command ’em.

We split up and check everywhere. This is beginning to become an annoying search and incriminate with dirt on the senator mission. Not to mention, I know Underworlders are somewhere in this place, maybe even watching us. I put one of Djinn’s high-tech x-ray goggles on and slowly scan the area. I come across an anomaly in the first confession booth. I take off the goggles and maneuver to it. I have a good feeling of what I’m going to find. Fingers crossed. I enter the booth with gun in hand. I scan every nuance of it. I check the seat and pull up on it. Suddenly, the wall slides to the right and reveals a passageway leading down.

Here we go! I step out of the booth and wave to the others, and they scurry over.

“I found a secret passage,” I tell ’em. “We’re going underground again it seems.”

“This remind you of the cave?” Kelly Marie asks with a smirk.

“Very funny,” I reply. “Rock and roll?”

“Rock and roll,” they softly say so not to alert anyone of our presence.

“Let’s do this, Harvesters.”

We collectively move down the wrapping stairs which are illuminated by flickering lights. Down below can barely be seen by the dim lighting. Is this on purpose or just plain poor lighting? Who knows when it comes to the Underworld? However, we don’t need any sort of lighting to see anyway. It’s one of the many gifts, powers if you will, that you receive as soon as you agree to be a Harvester.

With that said, the Underworlders have the same powers, and I’d have to say possibly more, especially with Vega’s power to regenerate, create a Master Hole, mimic anyone he wants, and being able to time-shift. Yeah, I’d have to say they have the upper hand on us.

Cautiously, we stop when we get to the bottom. What I see shocks me because this is a four-hundred-year-old church. There’s futuristic-style scientific equipment of all sorts everywhere in this underground facility. Quite possibly, another one of Vega’s super facilities to conduct unknown, unheard of experiments.

“Should we pop Djinn’s protection pills now, Harv?” Kelly Marie asks.

“Not until we know we’re going to make contact with them,” I tell her. “We can’t risk wasting his pills.”

Dorian discovers an elevator at the other end of the facility and more wrapping stairs beside it, but this time, they’re heading upward. Decision time.

“Well, which means of travel?” Kelly Marie asks. “If we take the elevator, then they’ll hear us coming up and will already be ready for us,” she adds on.

“But if we take the stairs, maybe that’s what they want intruders to take because they figure that’s what intruders would think about the elevator,” Dorian debates.

They both have valid points that must be considered. I drum my finger on my chin as I ponder which avenue to take and if it might be a good idea to split up and also if we should take Djinn’s pill.

“Holster your guns for now, and let’s use our half swords,” I instruct them.

We pull out our half swords, which can be just as effective as our long swords.

“Each of us take a protection pill now,” I say.

We each swallow a Djinn protection pill.

“What now?” Dorian asks me.

“I’m going to climb up through the elevator’s roof hatch and hide there, only after pushing the button that goes to the highest floor. You two take the stairs and wait for my arrival. You make your move on my word.”

“What then?” Kelly Marie inquires.

“Don’t know till we run into it. Let’s move.”

They ascend the stairs, and I push the button on the elevator, and the door slides open. I quickly enter and jump up and push aside the roof hatch. I see that the elevator only goes three floors, so I push the 3 button. The door closes and I easily jump up and through the hatch. I close the hatch and take my position beside it. The elevator rises. I can already hear people talking above me, and it sounds like there are at least five of them. And one of them is definitely the Messenger. I reach the top and the elevator stops. I slightly move the hatch over to just a crack to see through. The door opens and the inside of the elevator is immediately sprayed with bullets. Two Underworlders slowly step in and look and see nothing. They’re dumbfounded. Then, one of ’em looks up.

I slide the hatch door all the way over, lean way down, and with one movement, slice both of their heads off.

“Now!” I exclaim to my crew of two.

I jump down into the elevator and peer into the room as Dorian and Kelly Marie rush into it. I see the place has many shelves adorned by dead twice over Harvester severed heads in jars. Somebody is a twisted, sick collector.

Dorian and Kelly Marie charge an Underworlder disguised by a fabric cloak over their head who has an unknown contraption in his hand. Senator Munley sits strapped in a chair a few feet behind this mysterious person. I casually stroll toward the last Underworlder who charges me with a dagger in each hand. He seems very confident. I let him get so close to me so that he tries to stab me, but his daggers break on my impenetrable body due to Djinn’s protection pill. He scowls with confusion as I raise my sword and do a 360-degree spin to gain more power, and I lop off his head and send him to the After.

Now it’s only the Senator and Mr. Mystery, who is about to be attacked by Dorian and Kelly Marie. I can’t see his face, but his bodily motions illustrate to me he isn’t worried, nor concerned in the least. I could help them, but I decide to stay back and evaluate their performance. This may seem cruel, but a crew leader must assess from time to time the ones under their command. And this is the perfect time to do so. Two versus one. They’ll be able to handle it, I’m sure. But why is this Mr. Mysterious hiding his identity? Is it Vega trying to be incognito or what? And why is Senator Munley so sedate and calm in a situation a senator shouldn’t be? This strikes me as strange and highly unlikely.

Kelly Marie motions to strike with her half sword, and the mystery man simply points the contraption in his hand at her and sends a paralyzing shockwave at her. She stops in her place, convulses, and can’t move. Dorian attempts to disarm him, but he hits Dorian as well with a blast and gains the same result. A few seconds later, they both drop unconscious. Now only I am left to handle this Mr. Mysterious. I slowly approach him.

“I like it when a person feels the need to hide their identity. It makes me want to find out who you are even more,” I tell him with cockiness. “And I will find out.”

“Don’t be so sure, Harvester,” he tells me through a voice scrambler to not know his voice, which means to me I must know this person’s voice from past history. Or why would he be hiding it and his face from me and my crew? My mind quickly starts to think of past foes, even ones who have betrayed the Agency. Who can he be? It’s obviously not Vega. He wouldn’t hide in the least. He’s too vain and arrogant to hide. So with that said, who is this guy?

“Is your face so hideous that you must hide it?” I sarcastically ask him to ruffle his feathers.

I have to figure out a way to get that contraption out of his hand. I don’t want to end up like Dorian and Kelly Marie. I look around and I don’t see the Messenger. I need to stay extra alert for his most likely imminent arrival.

He had to of heard all the shots fired. I’m usually a very observant person, but it is only now that I notice that the ceiling are windows and the bright full moon shines through them. I truly enjoy full moons. I have a high percentage success rate when it’s a full moon. I don’t understand it, but it’s a fact that I enjoy. But back to that powerful contraption.

“Do you know who I am, Mr. Mysterioso?” I ask him.

He nods at me.

“Not much of a talker are we?” I keep digging into him. “Obviously you do since you want your face and voice disguised. What now?”

“You gather your Harvesters, and I allow you to leave with your lives. I have work to do,” he tells me.

“Work? With the senator? Well, you see, that’s where I have a problem. I really can’t do that,” I retort. “Especially with Senator Munley sitting there as if he’s stoned out of his mind.”

He points his contraption at me. “Then you end up like your crew. Your choice,” he informs me.

I must be quick to think of a tactic to disarm him.

And then it hits me. A technique I’ve used numerous times, and I will use it again right now. I move in a slow motion speed, but in actuality, I’m moving much quicker than any human being can achieve. And blamo! I’m already at the mystery man before he can even pull the trigger on his contraption. I snap his wrist with ease, and he can no longer hold onto his contraption. It drops to the floor. I put him in a tight chokehold.

“You weren’t expecting that, now were you?” I ask with a confident tone.

There really is a fine line between confidence and cockiness, isn’t there? Or maybe it’s arrogance and not cockiness. Either way, it’s a fine line.

I
remember a few years after being trained by Master Miyamoto Musashi, I had an encounter with an unrelated Harvester Hunt. It was a man who had a problem with me due to my reputation, and he figured, as it usually works out, that if he took me out he would gain major clout and respect due to what everyone knew of my background. I couldn’t blame him for his thought process and actions. I would’ve done the exact same thing if I were in his shoes.

I was still in Japan, Kyoto to be exact, when I was getting rather drunk and several beautiful ladies were doing a great job of giving me all their sexy attention.

They knew who I was and how dangerous I was, and to be honest, they loved it. In their mind, it gave them some sort of a power trip knowing they were with a man of such battling strength and the fact that I was a foreigner really turned them on, and I must admit, I liked it. Well, with that said, a certain local warrior didn’t want to accept the fact that a foreigner was getting all of his attention. He was an up-and-coming samurai warrior for a local lord. His name was Akira. He felt he had to prove to himself and to his lord that he was a better warrior. And what better way than to defeat me?

When I discovered he wanted my heart in his hand, I did plenty of research on him like Miyamoto Musashi taught me to do before going into battle. What I learned of him was semi-alarming. He was twenty-five at the time and had as many kills as his age. Even though he never studied under Musashi like I had for so long, he had studied everything he had written and everything he had heard about him. He thought of himself as Miyamoto reincarnated.

Delusional as he may be, he truly believed this to be true.

And when your mental stability is this off kilter, it could work in his favor. I had to rethink my battle process for such a clouded, distorted mind-set. I thought that I must choose the landscape of where our battle will transpire to use to my advantage, of course. But where I thought? I didn’t have much time. A stressed mind such as his, I definitely knew I didn’t have much time. However, what I had working for me was that nobody knew that I was trained by the Master Musashi himself. All they knew was that I was an undefeated warrior. And that Musashi info would forever remain secret.

He called me out and gave me the choice of the location of the battle. I chose a small island off the coast of Japan, an isolated area where we could battle with no interruption or disturbance. This was a choice I made due to my master had dueled on this very island as well.

His spirit will be with me.

It just so happened it was a full moon. With my research on him, I found out that he had a very short attention span and very little room for patience. This I knew could work to my advantage. I would use another one of my master’s techniques, which I have used before, and it has worked for the both of us. I found out that he was a stickler for being on time. So I would show up late for the battle and make him frustrated, mad even, at me, to the point of throwing off his technique. I knew this battle would be more of martial arts rather than dagger or swordplay due to me knowing his style of fighting. Although I knew that weapons would come into play at some point in our altercation. I must weaken him before it comes to that point. I must.

When it comes to martial arts, well, I enjoy that concept. What a way to combat one another. I thoroughly enjoy it. To take someone out by the way of foot, hand, body only, yeah, I like that form of combat better.

Strength versus strength. No metal. However, that technique obviously wouldn’t kill a Dead One. Of course, with me being a Harvester and him not knowing it gives me a confidence boost. But if the battle did come to the blade, then, and only then, will he be able to eliminate me and send me to the After only by my head being severed.

In a small boat, I rowed to the small island, and I could see a very upset Akira angrily pacing up and down the beachhead, which was lit up by the bright full moon. I couldn’t help but to crack a slight smile because one of Miyamoto’s techniques has worked again. This would prove to benefit me.

As I got closer, he began to yell and holler at me in his native tongue, which I do speak and write.

I rowed onto the beachhead and remained in the boat for a few seconds to anger him even more. And boy did it work.

His face turned bright red as he screamed profanities at me.

It didn’t help his hostilities toward me when I casually smiled at him. I climbed out of the boat with my sword draped to my side. He pointed at my sword and shook his finger no, then pointed to his sword lying on the sand several feet away from him. Obviously, he’s telling me this fight will be without swords like I knew it would be. Time to kick some ass. I approached him and stopped ten feet from Akira.

Simultaneously, we attacked each other with roundhouse kicks and quick, repetitive jabs all over our bodies. Akira was good, really good. After several minutes of this, we backed away from each other and squared off again. Him not besting me sooner has him rattled. I could tell he’s used to defeating foes quicker than this and now Akira appeared a bit intimidated. I didn’t blame him.

Akira slowly moved toward me. What’s his next move? He kicked sand into my eyes, then jumped through the air and landed a furious kick across my face. It spun me around, and I tripped to the sand. Akira knelt beside me and unleashed a flurry of punches and elbow drops. I was able to roll away from him and spring to my feet. He bolted at me while releasing a war cry. I stood my ground and waited for the right moment. Three, two, one, and . . .

I delivered a ferocious kick directly up and under his chin. I kicked him so hard, it sent him several feet backward through the air. He shook it off, glared at me, and spat out a large portion of his tongue. I shrugged my shoulders at Akira.

“You just won’t sound the same any more, Akira,” I told him. “I sense a possible speech impediment in your future.” I laughed.

He gingerly stood and spat out blood and wiped his mouth. In a calculating manner, I circled him, waiting for the moment to attack. Now Akira seemed to be hesitant. He felt his sore jaw as he slowly narrowed the gap between us.

Akira was not the type to give up or surrender, so I know he’ll attack at any moment. And I’m ready. He got within a foot of me, and it’s obvious to me he wants to keep the duel at close range. Some warriors prefer it that way. He rapidly delivered several blows to my stomach, kidneys, and face. I responded with an open palm jab to his vulnerable throat, a hard one. He stumbled back and choked. He couldn’t catch his breath due to my strong hit that had partially collapsed his trachea. His eyes widened in pain and fear, an emotion I’m sure he had never felt in his life.

A few seconds went by, Akira could finally breathe, but just barely. His wound could quite possibly still kill him.

But I couldn’t take any chances. Akira bent over and picked up his sword. I guess this was an act of desperation, a last resort. I smirked at him because now I know he’s desperate.

“You sure you want to do that?” I asked him.

He moved toward me and took a swing, but I easily ducked, rolled across the sand, hopped up, and snatched my sword. I turned around, and much to my surprise, he was already behind me taking another swing at me. He sliced deep into my back, and I yelled out in pain. Blood spilled down my backside. I gathered my bearings and spun around with a slicing motion, and I connected across his stomach. It isn’t as deep of a cut as I hoped it would be. Akira came at me again and again. I must give it to him. He definitely had a high threshold for pain and a high level of perseverance. With all his strength, he sliced at my chest, but I’m too quick for him.

I flipped through the air over him and sliced my sword downward at the same time. I cut into his forehead all the way across his head and down his back by the time I land. He dropped to his knees. Blood poured out of him, and yet he still tried to attack me with sword swings from his knees.

I stood there and looked at him, trying the best he can.

What a shame to have to kill such a brilliant, tough as nails warrior such as Akira. However, he was the one who challenged me, and all challengers must be dealt with in the same and only manner I know how. It’s the code.

I stepped in front of him, but far enough away that he can’t wound me. I told him he had two choices. One, I can take him out. Or two, he can commit
seppuku
, which is an honorable way for a warrior to die by stabbing themselves in the stomach until dead. Each way is honorable, but a true warrior rather be killed by their opponent. And it didn’t surprise me when he chose the first choice. I raised my sword to slice off his head. He lunged forward and stabbed his sword through my stomach and out my back. I made a classic mistake and allowed myself to fall into a false sense of security. However, this wound only hurt like hell and slowed me down. Akira was shocked to see me barely affected by his blow.

“You’re one of the Chosen,” he told me.

He was even more shocked when he saw me swing my sword at his neck. His head rolled down the sand and into the ocean. I yanked out his sword and tossed it down the beachhead.

“Akira, you tricky bastard.”

He made me learn a lesson the hard way, and I would never make that mistake again.