This is my new fic! Behold- The Hunt! It's at the start of book seven- Aftershock.
Otto and the gang must go on the scariest, toughest field exercise ever. Their goal is to evade capture by Raven and her elite G.L.O.V.E. team for as long as possible. Only thing is, they'll be in Siberia. In the Baikal Mountains which surround Lake Baikal, which holds a fifth of the world's freshwater. With winter temperatures of -25 degrees C.
Which means they're all screwed.
Plus there are some new students in H.I.V.E.
LET THE MAYHEM BEGIN!
Rated T because of death, bad language (it's Block and Tackle – what can you expect?), doom and gloom (dooooom and gloooom!) and violence. No H.I.V.E. story would be complete without Wing and Raven attacking some baddie.
I don't own H.I.V.E. I didn't pay Shelby enough to steal it for me.
*Oh, by the way I reposted all four chapters plus the new one because I had some mistakes to correct. Hopefully it will make more sense now.*
PROLOGUE
The pain.
Dear God, the pain.
It hurt so much.
Someone make it stop!
A second blade whipped past his face. Glass fired everywhere. He could feel the blood trickling down his face.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
He looked up.
The cameras around him documented his every move, constantly adjusting their positions to get the best angle.
He gritted his teeth.
No-one would see him beg for mercy. If he was to die, he would do so without humiliating himself or those watching by asking for help. Neither would he cry and whine the pain was too much.
Well it kind of was too much. But if he just concentrated on each second, on keeping his composure, on not breaking down in front of those cameras for everyone to see.
One Mississippi.
Does she understand what measures have to be taken?
Two Mississippi.
If she does not, we are all lost.
Three Mississippi.
Then we are doomed.
A third and final blade came out of nowhere and buried itself high in his shoulder.
He staggered, and fell to his knees.
He knew there would be no more.
He knew death was imminent.
What are they thinking, those watching him from afar? Are they rejoicing in his death? Mourning him already? It didn't take a genius to know he was dying.
He always knew being part of G.L.O.V.E. would kill him. It had taken his father away from him, his mother, a grandfather and a grandmother.
He just didn't think it would be so soon.
The pain reached an all-time high and he bit his lip to avoid screaming out. The blood was pooling around him – his own blood – it was almost like the shape of the lake above him. He bit back a maniacal laugh. To do so would expose a weakness, and if he knew anything about his days in H.I.V.E., it was not to show fear to your enemies.
His vision blurred.
He looked up into the nearest camera one last time, making the illusion he was making eye contact with everyone watching.
He fell on his side, thankfully not getting a blood facial.
His heart galloped towards its last beat.
He closed his eyes.
And died.
MANY YEARS BEFORE
The woman strode quickly through the secret underground facility.
In the past she would have been interested in how exactly everything was made. How every scientist had been coerced away. How to escape detection by law enforcement agencies. How to access power to keep everything going.
Max would know. After all, he did construct H.I.V.E. Twice.
This one thought caused her stride to falter. She felt a stab of pain. She quickly strode onwards, past the admiring looks of the employees of the man she was going to see.
She reached her destination – a large office overlooking the main area of research.
He was waiting inside for her. Ever the same, but somehow different. He was cold. He had never been warm-hearted enough to love cuddly toys and shiny things but there was a difference.
He waited until she was standing next to him, looking out at the same view.
"They have succeeded. Subject 0110 has had the device interface directly into the brain. It will take a while to fully awaken in the boy. Ten years or so."
He looked over. Her face was indiscernible.
"May I see him?"
He turned and let her down the stairs, through the maze like hall until they stopped at a large cylinder, filled with liquid and a baby boy.
She moved closer.
Ingenious.
She flipped through the binder next to it, looking at and fully comprehending the formulae and equations. It was incredibly complicated. Nothing like this had ever been created before.
She looked up again.
The child's eyes were open.
They were a startlingly shade of blue.
"There is just one last thing, Isadora…"
He beckoned some scientists who wheeled something forward….
Her eyes widened in shock.
NOW
Mr. Block was having a good day.
The shower didn't switch between hot and cold faster than one of those kids trying to run away from him.
At breakfast no first years cut in front of him.
Instead they all gave him and his good friend Mr. Tackle their English breakfast muffins. Fifteen of them- all blueberry and chocolate. They were delicious.
He managed to knock out his sparring partner in Tactical Education with one blow. The Big C said he was tying with Mr. Tackle for head of the year for the Henchmen stream.
If it was anyone else, they would have fallen underneath a stalagmite. Or stalactite. Whichever one falls from the ceiling.
He got a message from Professor Pike saying he left a book behind. So it seems, did Mr. Tackle.
They quickly made their way to the Science & Technology Department.
Mr. Block liked the Technology stream.
They always did what they were told and never ratted him out.
The little nerds.
Now if Nigel Darkdoom had a title, it would be King of the Nerd Herd. The little baldie was always in the library, turning pages in books.
Idiot.
Books were only suitable for burning. And knocking people out with. Some of those books were pretty heavy.
He finally reached the Science and Technology Department.
Professor Pike motioned him to come on in. The henchmen's books were on his desk. The old man turned to point out something on some diagram that didn't make that much sense. Then Mr. Tackle poked him urgently.
"What," he grunted.
"Look who's in this class."
Mr. Block looked up and smiled. If it wasn't the King of the Nerds himself. What the fuck? The little bastard was smiling at him. Smirking in fact. As if he knew something Mr. Block didn't. He moved closer to the desk, accidently knocking over a rack of test tubes, shattering them into teeny tiny pieces.
Fuck.
He covertly looked at the professor. He was now bending over Malpense and that Scottish ginger's machine thing.
He felt a slight tickling sensation. His skin tingled.
He felt another poke. "Yeah I know, we'll leave before he notices"-
"No! You're a rainbow!"
"Are you taking the piss?" He looked at himself. Oh shit. His skin was all multi-coloured- red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet (like that rhyme Mum used to say to him. He always said them everyday to her. Richard of York gave battle in vain) and all those other colours. Like puce. And vomit. And his personal favourite, blood red. He was like a fucking Christmas tree.
He heard the first few giggles.
Hesitant.
Which then enveloped into full blown laughs. Soon everyone was laughing at both of them – Baldie the hardest.
This was bad. Really bad. How can Mr. Tackle and he deal with their business when they're unable to intimidate anyone?
He looked up at the professor, ignoring Mr. Tackle's attempts to wash it off (which was only making it worse), "Sir get this off!" He glowered, attempting to coerce the scientist to do it out of fear. Only you can't be intimidating when you look like one of those multicoloured advertisements in Times Square.
"Off you go to your next class, boys! Wouldn't want you to be late!"
If Mr. Block didn't know better, he'd swear the old man was trying not to laugh. He uttered several curses and murmured some pleas but the old man would have none of it. He was ushered out into the crowds outside.
Who took one laugh at him and started laughing.
He looked back into the classroom. The King and his Nerd Herd waved at him.
"Where's the pot of gold?"
Fucking Darkdoom. He'll pay for this.
Author's Note
That, ladies and gentlemen, was chapter uimhir a haon! But it leaves such questions to be answered…
Who dies in the future of this story?
Who are the mysterious couple?
Will Block and Tackle ever get the rainbow paint off?
Some of these questions may never be answered…
But some certaintly will so I shall update soon!
…hopefully.
Pardon my language, but hey, it's Block & Tackle. They who think in short sentences and small words.
Please review! I'd love to hear what you think of it. Constructive criticism is welcome. Special thanks to spoonsaredangerous for reviewing. You are always my super cool editor! (Read her bones stories- they're awesome!)