Son of Cerberus (The Unusual Operations Division Book 2) (29 page)

Phillip decided he would let David deal with the situation as he found it nearly impossible to move, let alone concentrate on any of the burning people down in that sea of fire.

David couldn’t say he was in any way immune to the hallucinations. In fact, they made him more nauseous than he had ever been in his life. It also sent severe pangs of pain through his head and made his skull vibrate.

It wasn’t an entirely foreign feeling, though. As he had a unique relationship with anything electromagnetic, he had been training to control the pain and nausea for some time. He still saw what the others saw, though his own special version, but he paid it no mind.

He descended into the obviously haunted stairwell, where fire pooled around the bottom in large licking flames. Shadows flashed across the walls, complete with teeth and eyes. He wasn’t worried, however, as he knew it was all in his head.

Stewart screamed at him as he approached, scuttling away on all fours. The others all seemed fearful, too, and tried their hardest to get away from the approaching behemoth. The only other person with any sense at all was Amy, and she simply watched as David approached.

David felt the madness grow as he got closer and closer to the machine. He felt as if the entire pit of hell was coming out around him. Spiders with fangs covered the box, making it impossible for him to see the on-off switch. He recoiled in horror as the box seemed to have a moving skin over the surface of it, filled with biting, writhing, living creatures.

Amy touched his hand gently. She had approached unbeknownst to David. Her leathery skin and great wings did nothing to scare him though. He knew that she was human, despite what he thought about the spiders on the box.

“You have no reason to fear,” she said, pushing his hand into the spiders. Where she touched him, flames leapt away from his skin. What was left behind looked as if his skin was charred black. Bones, tendons, and muscles all showed through the burned spots.

The creepy crawlies scuttled quickly up his arm, but there was no feeling to their bites or skittering legs. He didn’t feel them as they dug beneath his charred skin or implanted themselves into his bones. He wanted to cringe, but knew that if he gave in now, there would be no going back.

“Do what you must,” she said, placing David’s hand on the off switch. David obliged without a second thought, plunging the entire world back into a harsh reality. Where there had once been fire was now a cool light that shined from the hanging lamps above.

Stephen had followed David down the stairs and bolted into action as quickly as he could. Though Stewart was just getting to his knees, Stephen slammed into him with all his weight. The blow drove him to the ground, but the wiry little man was augmented in a way Stephen didn’t understand. He used Stephen’s own momentum to throw him over a table, slamming him into a wall.

The ex-SEAL had experienced worse blows. He rebounded from the wall at a run, bowling Stewart back to the ground beneath him as he dove over the table. The smaller man was powerful, though, and shoved Stephen hard enough into the air so that he could plant both feet beneath him. Stephen flew like a ragdoll off over another table. This time, the air had been knocked out of him hard enough to make getting up a little tougher.

David looked at Amy. She smiled a knowing smile up into his face and placed her hand on his. He returned the smile, only to realize that a woman behind was not too happy with the new arrangement. Gelda, the skinny woman with too much makeup on, slammed a two by four across his face. He felt his nose move into a position it was never supposed to be in as most of his face suddenly felt numb with shock.

She wasn’t done, either. As David fell to his knees, he received another blow across the back of his head. The pounding blow was enough to send stars across his vision and disorient him even further. He fell to his back, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to stop the next blow.

“You have ruined everything,” she yelled, fury etching the lines of time into her face. “We were nearly complete and you had to come along and ruin everything.”

“Stop,” was all David could say.

“I will stop when you are dead,” Gelda said as she raised the heavy piece of wood up over her head. His fear of death was suddenly diminished as he watched Amy grab the board. She didn’t seem upset, or even worried. With strength David had never seen before, she used her knee to break the board in half. It didn’t seem to cause her any discomfort, let alone make her exert herself.

“Enough,” Amy said calmly. “This is not the way.”

Gelda looked as if she had been betrayed. The love that had existed between them was dead as this new creature manifested itself. The man Gelda had known existed within another body and that body had been the servant of the master within. This thing, this new configuration, was not what she remembered. It was not a powerful being bent on controlling others, it was an ambivalent being that truly meant to help.

That was not what Gelda wanted.

“Shut up you bitch,” Gelda said, sending her fist across Amy’s face. The shock was enough to send Amy back, but David had already recovered enough of his senses to act in defense. He kicked Gelda’s spindly knee as hard as he could, sending it out of socket and into a gross angle. She cried as she fell to her back, but David wasn’t done yet. In one great movement, he rose his leg high up into the air and let it come down across her face. She stopped moving as her head rebounded from the hard concrete below.

David hardly saw the rest of the men as they converged on him. There were more than three, or at least he could only guess as his vision swam against the disorientation of being slammed upside the head. He figured they would most likely kill him, but he felt good at least to know he had saved his friends.

A single loud gunshot rang through the domed room and one of the men fell flat on his face. The rest dove for cover or scurried off toward the nearest exit. Even Stewart, fighting as he had been with Stephen, jumped over a table and took off.

Phillip was on top of the walkway, centering his weapon on the next target. One more shot rang out and another of the fleeing men fell, dead before he hit the ground. Stewart bounded over him and though a doorway, bowling other men over as he went.

“Go get him, tiger,” Phillip yelled to Stephen, thankful that he was back in the action. “The rest of you would do well to stay put.”

Two of the men remaining stood with their hands up in the air. David laughed as best he could from the floor, holding his broken nose behind both hands. Blood dribbled down his cheeks and pooled on the ground below him.

Stephen took the hint and bolted for the door after the smaller man. He wouldn’t be getting away as long as Stephen was alive, and that was a promise.

The door led them down even more steps into something Stephen hadn’t anticipated seeing. Another room meant more machines, only these were more familiar to him. There were presses, saws, soldering and welding stations, and even an area in which metal glowed in small pools of liquid. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was where the majority of the machines were being made.

It only made sense that they would be hiding beneath an island, off the coast of one of the most populous cities in the world.

Stewart was nowhere to be seen. The dark room had too many places to hide. Stephen knew that the man wouldn’t go far. His promise to kill the UOD agents would have strengthened in fervor since they had foiled the plans. Instead of worrying as to whether or not Stewart was in the room, Stephen ensured he had something to fight with.

Since his pistol was up on the balcony, he pulled out his backup knife. The six-inch blade flicked open with a simple twist of Stephen’s hand.

Stephen had been right to assume Stewart would not leave the building. Once he stepped foot in the expansive room, things leapt to life. The press, a machine that actively stamped out pieces of metal, started clanging away. The oven suddenly roared as new air billowed through the hot coals below. Everything started at once. It was as if chaos suddenly reigned.

Fortunately, he knew exactly what Stewart was up to. The intelligent man wanted Stephen to feel confused and lose his bearing. He wanted him to be without his hearing. Stewart was planning on sneaking up on him.

Stephen took cautious steps into the center of the room where there was enough space for him to avoid being ambushed. Stewart, however, was not playing by the same rules. He jumped from his hiding spot sporting a long steel pole, swinging it wildly at the huge black man. Stephen tumbled backward and grabbed the closest thing he could in order to defend himself—a foldup wooden chair.

Stewart laughed as he smashed the chair, knocking it away from Stephen in large chunks. He managed to throw the last little bit into Stewart’s face before he had to retreat a few more steps.

“You’ve ruined everything,” Stewart said, his voice dripping with anger. “You cannot see how many years of preparation you’ve destroyed.”

“Singing the same old song, aren’t you,” Stephen said, dodging another blow of the steel pole.

“What’s a couple million minds matter in order to propel an entire species thousands of years forward?”

“All people matter, Stewart.” Stephen was appalled. He hadn’t realized that millions of lives were in jeopardy. “We aren’t in control of who lives and who dies. We cannot pick and choose who gets to forget their entire existence just so you can have your little experiments. Who is to say that what you believe is actually true?”

“It is,” Stephen yelled, smashing the pipe down hard where Stephen had been standing only a fraction of a second before. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“Then go public and take donations,” Stephen tried reasoning with him. “There are plenty of people out there who would rejoice at the existence of alien life and jump on the opportunity to do what you’re trying to get them to do.”

“It’s not that simple,” Stewart said, gripping the bar as he circled with Stephen. “No one would willingly go through the pain and torment the machine creates. That’s why we made so many. That’s why we stationed them throughout so many cities. You see, Stephen, you’ll shut us down but this operation will keep going. Each time one fires off, you’ll see people change. You’ll see our species propagate itself after all.”

“And you’ll kill anyone who gets in the way?”

“Just like your little girlfriend,” Stewart smiled a smile that Stephen had never seen. Perhaps it was simply the rage of all his failures lately or the fact that Stewart had pressed the right button, but Stephen snapped. He absorbed a blow from the smaller man that probably broke his arm, but Stephen didn’t feel a thing. He had his eyes set on something else.

Though the smaller man may have been augmented, he still weighed the same. With a great heave, Stephen was able to pick him up and throw him hard. He landed on the edge of something metallic, his head shooting backwards behind him.

Stephen had managed to get his foe’s head between the top and bottom of the machine-driven press, though Stewart and his augmentations were too quick. He pulled his head out at the very last moment. The press came down as the last bit of hair escaped its grasp.

He was slow to get up, though, and Stephen used his giant fist to pound Stewart’s head back against the huge block of metal. Over and over, he plowed his hefty fist into Stewart’s face, content when he heard bones break beneath his powerful blows. He wanted to kill the man, to drive his face into the back of his head one punch at a time.

He didn’t notice Stewart moving beneath him. The rage that had taken him over gave him tunnel vision. His only want, his only desire, was to kill the man who had harmed his girl. He wanted to take his soul and drive it into some personal hell.

Stewart didn’t mind getting his face bashed in. He used it as a means to an end. With one hand he managed to grab the steel bar that had clattered down next to him. The other rose up and pushed Stephen back just far enough to crack him across the skull. Stephen, despite his massive weight and impressive size, fell back. His posture indicated that he had been knocked out cleanly.

The man who had knocked him over the head wasn’t done yet. He was going to kill Stephen, then the rest of the group. Once he finished them off, he would have to restart where the bastards had chosen to ruin his plans.

“Well,” he said, wiping blood away from his eyes. His front teeth were jagged and broken, his eyes had been nearly swollen shut and his nose was flat, but he didn’t seem to care. “It was good while it lasted, Stephen, but now I’m going to kill you.”

He felt no remorse as he lifted the pipe up above his head. In fact, he felt nostalgic that the man who could have bested him would no longer be around to cause him any trouble. It was, however, a necessary action.

Stewart felt the pipe jerk violently as a bullet tore through the air and smashed into it. Someone had stumbled in on them while he had been expressing the small amount of sentiment he could muster.

It was without preamble that he used his considerable strength to hurl the pipe at David before bolting for the door. David ducked as it clattered through the hallway, but recovered quick enough to put him back in the sights of a .45 pistol. Three and then four more shots followed after him, but all smashed harmlessly into a wall. He ran recklessly through the hallway, up a huge flight of stairs and then into the night air. With feet that moved like lightning, he chose to live and fight another day.