Author's Notes: Yeah, I know, I know...things got really hectic in the last two weeks. For starters: I FINALLY GOT A FREAKIN JOB! Good for me, bad for you, as it takes time away from writing. I'm still doing it though, rest assured. And, please be patient with me, as - since I'm re-doing parts of The Last Stand - I'm kinda trying to keep up progress on two books at once. It's...kind of challenging, lol.
OH, and before I forget: Happy Birthday to me (as of the 19th)!!! That's part of the reason I'm so late posting...I lost two days of work-time for family-time (which I enjoyed), and a great day at Cedar Point, courtesy of my girlfriend (thank you much, beautiful).
So...for those of you cursing my name for the delay...I'm sorry. Just remember though: if you kill me, the book never ends. ;)
Now, moving on, Reviews!
REVIEWS:
armoured-blade: Hey! First of all, I should tell you: I would never deprive you of a Zeke-chapter. That would just be cruel. ;) Oh, and just a note: he doesn't "drive" two of them at once. He took both of them underneath the Phantom when he left (this was the note that was made about the Phantom having moved from its previous position, though I guess now that I could have done better at clarifying that). As for Gael: you'll know, in time. Like I said: give me half-a-dozen chapters or so, and you'll have all the answers you want. Patience is a virtue, my friend. ;) Gracias for the compliments, and I hope you like the chapter that people have been bugging me about for a month. hehehe. ;)
killerman83ca: I don't mind if you use some of what I have down, as long as it's not my plot or my characters. As for your comment on the Elites: well, I have plans for them, but they're not yet in motion. You will see them...eventually, however. Thank you much!
Centralion: Hi! Just to answer your comment about the UNSC blasting Earth: the reason that they haven't in this story is simply because the end of the war (particularly the space-battle from The Last Stand and the fighting around the Ark from H3) took a great toll on their warships and they currently don't have the firepower to blast the planet. However, I'll do more to address this next chapter and in the three or four that follow. Thanks for your review!
ching965: Well, you're going to get your answer as to what Zeke's been up to. ;) Also, to answer your question about the Flood: as far as I know, they'll eat anything with biomass. That being said, Earth is simply their gathering point for forces right now. They hit it with everything they had left after the Ark (which wasn't much, only a few ships), and now they're just biding time. Basically, they've got plenty of biomass from people and animals and whatever else, and they don't really need to resort to opening cans or boxes yet. Thanks very much, and I hope you enjoy this. :)
BETAZ: lol, thanks, but...I've actually never read The Master Chief Saves Christmas, so no, I guess I didn't. :) I suppose I should check it out?
the D'Haran general: lol, thanks much for the compliments! Enjoy the next chapter!
Mhop12: hehehe, yep, that accountant...that useless accountant. ;) Anyways, yeah, I heard the same thing about the Juggernaut, except that you could also fight them by modding an X-Box (something I have no idea how to do). Meh...I know how I've portrayed them, and I really want no part of it anyway. ;) Thanks!
Taylor114: lol, sorry! I promise, you'll get more answers (and fewer questions) as I go along! Anyways, not too much to say here, except that I'm glad someone likes the individuals that the Spartans are responsible for. Enjoy the next chapter!
Redflame101: lol, yeah, Zeke took two Choppers. He's mean like that. Also, to answer your question: Stephanie, Landon, Jason, and Nova Company were sent into space at the conclusion of the ground-based portion of the end of The Last Stand. They were on seek-and-destroy missions for Flood-controlled ships, and they have not yet returned. But give me a few chapters. ;)
ikldmrogers: Hey, no worries on the last chapter...I'm sorry I didn't post for two weeks, lol. Thank you for the compliments (as always). And yeah...Blaine is so good that it's scary. ;) What can you do? He's a biomechanical killing machine that never tires, never quits, and never bores of beating aliens to a pulp. :) Oh, and as to your question about when you get to hear from Ezekiel:
Right now.
Enjoy!
Sirkillalot23: Hey, thanks for the grammar-catch. :) I apologize...I have my moments, lol. Thanks for the review!
DoctorG27: hehehe, yeah...no giant groups of angry Flood yet. Soon though, definitely soon. :) Enjoy the next chapter!
The Not-So Addict: Well, you gave it to me in parts, so I'll in parts. :)
1. Gracias!
2. The Flood haven't really gotten much "smarter," but they have a lot more to work with now. In all the games, when you fight them, they have a numerical advantage, and that's about it. They're almost always trying to take something, or be on the offensive. This was my chance to change the game and make them not only numerically superior, but also with technology and strategy.
3. Well, the church wasn't the largest building in the entire city, just that area. By comparison to say, the commercial district, it'd be rather small. Although, you're absolutely right about the word choice, and that SHOULD have been "obvious"...Microsoft Word has failed to catch my grammatically-correct errors. ;)
4. I don't think that the Flood mind radioactivity. I honestly have no real clue. The games and books don't address it, so I just assume that it has little effect on them in minor doses. And, in this case, the fire and explosions will kill everything nearby before the radioactivity can do...much of anything.
5. When I said a "two-story" house, I mean a house with two standard floors, and I pictured it with ceiling sloping upward, into a peak (standard housing, you know). So, assuming each floor is roughly eight-feet from top to bottom, that's more than twice his size with the roof. That was what I was trying to convey, however sad it came out, lol.
6. I Firebomb would help greatly against the Flood, but Samuel doesn't have much in the way of options, and he doesn't have any of them on him. He's not properly armed, as you would ideally want to be, but part of that is because he's been out on his own for over a month.
7. See, this was my fault. Zeke didn't get to Mahe' ON Choppers. He used the Phantom to take him there and attached the two Brute vehicles to the bottom. This was what I tried to imply when I mentioned that the Phantom had moved from its position from the night before. That's my bad for not clarifying. Oh, and as for WHY he took two: he's an inconsiderate pain. :)
8. Don't worry about the constructive criticism, you know I love a straight answer. :) If you like it, that's great. If not, I'd rather hear why not than be falsly praised for it. Thanks very much for the review, and enjoy what's to come!
iamzultan: hehehe, thanks for the compliments. Also, good news: you get to find out what happened to Zeke right now. :) Thanks for reviewing for me!
Samus 117: hehe, yeah...Blaine knows what he's doing. Remember: he's been at this for a month now, on his own. He's gotten pretty good. :) Also, to answer your questions:
1. Zeke...well, read on, and you'll find out. ;)
2. The Master Chief is...wherever he was at the end of Halo 3. He's yet to be found. As for Nova and the rest of Zulu: they're in space still. Don't worry though...they'll be back.
Thanks for your review! Enjoy!
FireWolfFred: lol, you might be glad I missed the deadline, but I sure am not. I can't stand being late. Still, glad you enjoyed it, and I can't wait to see what everyone thinks of the "twists" in their personalities, as you called them. This will be a more "mentally-challenging" story for the Spartans, and new sides will show. Also, Zeke's chapter is right here for you. :) Thanks very much!
RandomMan: You have an intriguing idea for Victoria...but, I've kinda got my plot set out to a "T" already, and I can't really venture too far from it (which, if I do what you're saying and bring her back from a Flood spore...well, I'm venturing way off the beaten path, lol). Don't worry though...I've got big plans for her memory. No details yet though. ;) Thanks a lot for reviewing!
xcavars: Gracias. And, to answer your Zeke question: he's right here. :) Read on. Also, at the end of the ground-portion of The Last Stand, Landon, Jason, and Stephanie, along with Nova Company, were sent into space on a seek-and-destroy mission for Flood-controlled ships. They have not yet returned to Earth (as I'll explain in greater detail next chapter), but will soon. Thanks, and enjoy Chapter 3!
WOW, with that all out of the way, I give you Chapter 3, focused on the one and only Ezekiel Veron. ;)
Enjoy.
Chapter 3:
– Broken –
2100 Hours - July 8, 2553
Victoria, Mahé - Sychelles Islands, East Of Africa
Thousands of drops of borderline-toxic rain fell over the island of Mahé as the outline of the sun grew dimmer and dimmer behind Earth's tinted atmosphere. Even as the star gave up its claim of the day, it felt to the Spartan standing in the forest as though the night's death-grip had already taken hold.
Ezekiel painfully tossed the last bit of dirt on the hole at his feet before gripping the wooden handle tighter in his hands. He felt his hands squeeze harder and harder until it splintered, and then he threw the shovel spade-first into the ground.
Then, out of nowhere, he fell to his knees, punching the grass-covered ground again and again as the storm raged on around him. Somehow, of all the holes that he had committed himself to digging since arrived on Mahé – burying Lotus Anti-Tank and Antlion Anti-Personnel Mines, hiding C12 charges in the floors of countless structures, and even going so far as to dig himself a hiding place in the forest if things ever hit their lowest point – nothing could compare to the hole that he had just finished.
The girl had never had a chance. Neither had her father, her mother-
Zeke stopped himself, lest he should stoop to a new level of shame and let tears grip him for a second time since the events on the Assault Carrier. He slammed his fist into the ground again, the events of the previous hour a complete blur, like an old movie that had been played too many times until it skipped around almost randomly, focusing on individual scenes and ignoring the rest.
That was what the Spartan's mind was doing now.
He watched in horror as both the girl's parents died, taken in seconds by a surprise attack that he hadn't even seen coming. Her brother was next, and as Ezekiel went to help the boy, a single Infection Form jumped onto the girl-
He suddenly didn't know where he was. Somewhere in the woods, but that was all that he knew for certain, walking aimlessly through the jungle.
Before the Spartan could blink, he was on his knees in the middle of a major street in the center of the city. The rain was still pouring down, impacting with his energy shields and hissing against the ground. Lightning split the sky and thunder resounded with a force reminiscent of the Anti-Matter Charges used on the Training Ground so long ago.
Ezekiel Veron clenched his fists and looked up at the pitch-dark sky. "What do you want from me?" he roared. "What did I do to warrant this?" He had yelled with everything he had, and the Spartan forced himself to calm slightly, looking down at his hands, panting. "What's happened to me? Why can't I…" Images of the family that he had tried to save suddenly popped into his mind. As he forced them out, another face – this one female – invaded his conscious thoughts, and it nearly broke him. Then he was shouting again. "What's wrong with me?"
And then, standing there in the rain with his breath coming in ragged gasps, the black-armored soldier finally gave up. He yelled as loudly as he could, looking for any sign of the undead monstrosities that he knew literally infested the city, the same forces that he had waged a small war with only hours before.
"Come on!" he shouted, pulling off his helmet and throwing it to the ground. Now the rain was hitting his hair and the back of his neck, and he could feel the burning sensations as the chemicals reacted with his flesh. "You want me? I'm right here!" He hit his knees again, struggling to hold any composure at all as his roars died down into pathetic, miserable pleas. "Come on," he said in just over a whisper. "This is what you want, isn't it? I'm right-"
Ezekiel Veron bolted from his sleeping position on the bed, sitting straight up and feeling his breath come in short, painful gasps. He was drenched in sweat and his entire body ached like it had after he was captured on the Assault Carrier.
"Damn it all," he growled, trying to slow his breathing as he collapsed back down onto the pillow, clenching and unclenching his fists. The various small scars on the back of his neck were burning almost as badly as the long-healed gash across his chest.
"Bad dreams again?" a male voice echoed from one corner of the pitch-dark room. A second later, the chamber was permeated with a dim, blue light as Demon arose from the holotank mounted to a laptop computer in the corner of the room.
Zeke squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light. A holographic image of a well-built man in his twenties was perched above the stand, clad in jeans, a white collared shirt, and a dark leather jacket. The man had spiked hair and, to top it all off, dark, glowing red eyes. Ezekiel could see the black rims of a pair of sunglasses sticking up from the shirt's pocket.
"That's the avatar you decided on?" The black-armored Spartan asked skeptically, ignoring the dream for the moment as his breathing started to slow.
"What?" Demon asked, sounding hurt. "I suppose I should walk around shirtless like you?" The AI pointed loosely at Ezekiel, who was clothed only in gym shorts. He paused for a moment, then added with genuine concern, "you really don't like it?"
"The entire wardrobe just screams asshole," Zeke muttered. "If that's what you were going for, then I'd say you hit the target dead-on."
"Moving on," Demon said angrily, obviously annoyed but still ignoring the jab. "Bad dream?"
Ezekiel growled at the mention of the nightmare and pushed himself off the bed. The moment he touched the ground, the blue light from the tank brightened until he could easily make out the details of the room he called his own.
There wasn't much to it. His laptop and the attached holotank sat in one corner. Beside them, two mock-Energy Swords sat propped against the wall. Both were exact replicas of an activated blade, except that they were made of a combination of lead and titanium. The biggest difference was their weight, which topped the scales at about four-hundred pounds.
The only other possessions in the room were Ezekiel's MJOLNIR armor, in the corner opposite the Spartan's bed, and Victoria's necklace with a vine-sheathed cross on it, hanging on the wall above the bed.
Other than that, it was a bare chamber with a single, reinforced, cast-iron doorway and one vent in the corner that Ezekiel had personally fitted with an improvised filter to cleanse whatever oxygen came in.
The structure had, at one point, been a large industrial facility. But, when the Flood took Mahé for themselves, it was reduced to a well-located hiding place with hundreds of rooms and reinforced steel walls and floors.
And as far as Ezekiel Veron was concerned, it was Heaven.
"Yes," he said finally as he stretched, "bad dream." He hit the floor and began his morning exercises. In between pushups he asked, "what time is it?"
"Oh-seven-hundred," Demon answered.
Ezekiel scowled. The sun wouldn't even be fully visible outside. "Hell," he said, "I shouldn't be up yet." He put one arm behind his back and continued. A one-handed pushup, when Zulu Company had first started their training in basic, was nigh-impossible for Ezekiel, but Samuel had shown him more than once how it was done. Eventually, he'd gotten the hang of it.
Now it was a favorite wake-up workout.
"Agreed," Demon said. "Why don't you call it a late morning and go back to bed for a couple of hours?"
"And resume that dream where I left off?" Zeke asked. "To Hell with that." He switched arms and kept going. Then, eager to change the subject from his dream, he spoke again. "You find anything in those files?"
Demon was silent for a few seconds. "Not much," he said. "The usual: if it mentions Victoria, it only refers to blood-draws and "hypothetical" tests that never made it beyond the proposal stages." He paused. "If I didn't know better, I'd say they followed standard procedure to the letter."
"Yeah," the Spartan snapped, "because they're known for that, right?" He stood up and arched his back, cracking it. "Damn it I'm tired."
"No comment," Demon said.
"For a change," Zeke quipped. He grabbed the two mock Energy Swords and walked toward the door before Demon started whistling. "What?" he snapped.
"Not taking me with you?" The AI asked.
Ezekiel rolled his eyes. He had adjusted to the very little light present, so he didn't need the AI for the moment, but it couldn't hurt anything to bring him along. "Fine," the Spartan said, and grabbed the laptop, taking it and the two blades into the next room.
This one was almost identical to the last, except that it had two doorways: one leading to Ezekiel's room, the other into to a narrow hallway with multiple doors and stairways. Lastly, this room had a single, man-sized window that overlooked the easternmost city of Victoria.
Zeke sat the laptop down on the floor. Two seconds later, Demon rose from the attached panel once again. "Still think using a room with a window was a stupid idea," the AI quipped.
"Notice how I didn't ask." Zeke answered bitterly, looking down at the streets thirteen stories below before glancing toward the sun, which was just now starting to make its appearance on the horizon.
In truth, Demon was probably right: using a room with a window – especially one that size – was one of the most foolish things that Ezekiel allowed himself to do. But he didn't care. He was careful, for the most part, and the window was located well. For one thing, it was high enough that none of the Flood's hideous soldiers would be able to see him from the ground unless he stood right up against it.
Second, and more importantly, there were no structures within view that were high enough to be eye-level with the window.
And Ezekiel had grown fond of the view in the mornings and evenings, on the rare occasion he was home and awake for them.
He sighed loudly, forcing the thoughts out. "Music, now."
Demon complied, and a combination of words and notes began emanating from the laptop's speakers.
…city walls ain't got no love for me. I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story…
Zeke took a deep breath and gripped the two blades tighter, holding them at his sides and closing his eyes, still trying to fully recover from the nightmare that had awakened him. He waited there, listening and slowing his pulse and his breathing back to their normal levels.
And teach me wrong from right. And I'll show you what I can be…
Every fiber of his body tightened as he began the daily regiment with the swords, thrusting them forward before swinging them up and over his head and flipping backwards to land flat on his feet. The moves were deliberate, calculated, and methodical: something practiced hundreds of times over in recent weeks. Ezekiel had it down to a science, working at every turn to perfect whatever forms he could find faults in.
And all I scream for you…Hurry, I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin'…
He tucked the swords up against his thighs, drew a breath, and jumped forward, flipping backwards once…twice…three times before landing on his feet and resuming his movements. Even as the blades began to grow heavier in his hands, he gripped them tighter and thrust them out in front of him in a jab-like movement, once…twice…three times…four times…
With the right blade, he spun around and-
The music abruptly stopped.
"Demon!" he shouted. "What the Hell are you doing?"
"I found something." The AI answered matter-of-factly. "Come look at this."
Ezekiel scowled, setting the blades against the wall and stalking over to the closed laptop. He opened it up and saw line after line of white text scrolling across a blue screen.
"Yeah," he said sarcastically, "this is helpful. What the Hell am I looking for?"
"Here," Demon answered, and the screen stopped.
"What is it?" the Spartan asked, reading. From what he could tell, it was a record of statistics. They referred to reaction-times, muscle improvement, sense-enhancement-
"It's ONI's best analysis," Demon answered, "of the effects of Flood infection on a Spartan II." He paused. "The tests cover everything: speed, reaction time, neural capacity with or without an AI-"
"This is ridiculous." Ezekiel shook his head in disbelief. The numbers were unbelievable. If the data before him was correct, and infected Spartan would have a reaction time that faster than his own, unrivaled strength…speed that was-
The laptop suddenly emitted an annoying beep and minimized the file, instead showing Ezekiel a heat-sensitive picture of the city of Victoria from an overhead satellite. He scowled when he saw almost two-dozen red images moving quickly down one of the streets, with a pair of dots barely managing to stay ahead of the pack.
"More survivors," Demon said calmly, without an ounce of care or compassion in his tone. "And the Flood are right on their asses."
Zeke nodded and walked over to the window. Down below, he saw two individuals emerge from behind an office building down the street before turning his direction and taking off on a dead sprint. Both appeared to be adults, or very near it, and the Spartan watched dispassionately as they fired their guns blindly behind them, clearly aware of the futility of their escape attempt.
"How many?" Zeke asked casually, watching the two, who he could now identify to be a man and a woman. The sight was nothing new to him anymore. He'd watched more than a dozen such survivors die since the last time he had tried to intervene and save anyone from the Flood.
It was all just a part of life now.
"Twenty," Demon said. "They must be lightly armed, for the Flood to send so few. Either that, or they're planning to head them off." He paused. "I don't suppose you're going to make an exception and help these two?"
Ezekiel said nothing, only scoffed bitterly and turned away from the window.
Travis Wilks could barely believe how things had turned out. His family – himself, his mother, and his father – had survived the Flood's massive invasion and lived on their own in the depths of the infested city of Victoria for weeks. They had stayed hidden, stayed smart, and – most importantly – stayed calm.
And now, it seemed, with his mother running beside him as fast as she could go to try and outrun the two-dozen undead monsters behind them, that this would be their last day.
"I can't…keep going…" she said, panting as she fired the Assault Rifle blindly behind her and her pace slowed slightly. Travis scowled. He might have been a seventeen-year-old athlete, but his mother was in her late thirties and far from peak physical condition. Sure, she looked the part, but half a dozen major illnesses had made it to where it was next to impossible for her to physically strain herself for any significant length of time.
"Come on," he said, trying to coax her farther. "We can make it."
He knew it was a lie though. They had both been breathing in the tainted, sickening air for several minutes already, and his lungs felt as if they would explode-
Her legs suddenly gave out, and she fell forward.
Travis stopped in a second and was with her, trying to help her up, to ease her back to a standing position, but it was no use.
They were coming.
There were almost twenty of them that he could see, and all of them closing in faster than they could make up the distance, even if she could get up and run again…which he knew now that she couldn't.
Travis did the only thing he could do: he turned and leveled his Shotgun, and when the first of the undead terrors was within range, he blew its upper body to smithereens and racked the pump for the next monster.
"Go Travis!" she shouted. "Just…go!"
"Not a chance," he answered, firing again and blasting another of the aliens all the way to the depths of Hell. He pumped the Shotgun and almost immediately fired again.
By now, however, he knew it was over. The remaining fourteen Combat Forms had spread out in a circle around them and were keeping a safe distance from his Shotgun while slowly closing in.
Travis fired at one close to him and staggered it, but then he heard the screams-
And they charged.
He fired the Shotgun again, finishing the one that he'd hit a moment before, and turned while simultaneously pumping the firearm. Another shot, and another monster hit the pavement.
But it wasn't enough.
Travis could only watch as the first of them closed in on his mother, lying there on-
CRACK!
The shot came from nowhere, but was easily close and loud enough to pop Travis' eardrums as the bullet destroyed the chest cavities of a pair of Combat Forms. Before he could even wonder what had happened, a single form, clad in black armor, appeared out of thin air. Its arms and legs appeared to have blades attached to them at the joints, and in its hands were a pair of weapons he had only seen once before, when the Elites had invaded New Mombasa.
Energy Swords.
In a flash, the soldier was on the move, jumping and ducking under the tentacles that were coming from all directions. The Energy Swords cut off limbs in brilliant white streaks through the dawn-lit air, and as quickly as the Spartan's attack had started, it was over.
The black-armored soldier turned to Travis. "Let's go." The voice was male and stone-cold. "I've got her." Without another word, he picked up Travis' mother and sped into a nearby structure that was over a dozen stories high.
"But the Flood will follow us," Travis said as he entered.
The soldier stopped cold and turned around, staring him down. "Look, this gets done in one of two ways. The first is my way, in which you stay quiet and do as I tell you. The second, and the easier one for me, is that I leave you both here to die. Choose."
Travis was taken aback by the statement, but forced his mouth to utter the words, "option one."
"Good." And, with that, he started running again.
Ezekiel forced himself to stay calm as he led the kid behind him down the corridors of the building adjacent to his own. If he was careful and lucky, he could lead the Flood away from his own building and still get them all up to his room safely.
The operative word, however, was "lucky", and it was something he had never considered himself.
When he reached the door that faced his own building, Zeke glanced outside and saw clearly that the sun was almost completely visible in the sky already. He had to work quickly.
"Take this." He said, turning to Travis and handing him the thin, light cloak that had been stored in a compartment in his armor.
"What is it?"
"Standard UNSC camouflage," Zeke said, putting the mother down, who worked to stand on her own. "Wrap in it. Wait twenty seconds. Go through that door," he pointed to an open door visible twenty feet away, on the side of his own building. "Go to the fourteenth floor and find the door at the end of the hall on your left. Shut it behind you and enter the next room. The door is cast-iron. Shut it. Lock it. Don't speak. Questions?"
Neither of them spoke.
"Good." He said. "Twenty seconds. Not a moment early."
With that, he turned around and left the building from the back, entering into another street with all the fake stealth that weeks of practice and a lifetime of training could give him. He moved quietly around, only making small, subtle mistakes – leaving a door cracked, moving a rug, or appearing for a split second in the window.
It wasn't long before the Flood took the bait, and he could smell them closing in from almost every direction.
"How long?" he asked inside his helmet.
"If they moved at a decent pace," Demon said, "they should be entering your room right about…now."
Ezekiel nodded, took a deep breath, and prepared for the easy part of the plan, the part that actually came natural to him: true stealth, the kind that he had worked to perfect since he'd been enlisted to become a Spartan.
Demon activated the MJOLNIR armor's Active Camouflage, and Ezekiel was instantly invisible in the half-light of the dawn. In the sixteen seconds that the technology stayed active, he covered two-hundred yards of pavement and the tile flooring of numerous structures.
And he left not a trace to mark his passing.
The black-armored Spartan took cover inside the kitchen of a motel, waiting for his camouflage to recharge as the Flood searched for him in an entirely different part of the city.
When it had, he took off toward his own building, and managed to get inside before the system overloaded again. Zeke was sure he could make it to his room unseen, but he chose to be cautious anyway and waited once more for his suit to recharge before sprinting for his safe haven.
Travis was sitting with his back to the wall, still trying to recover his breath, when the enormous iron-clad door suddenly shuddered violently and the echoes of a single – albeit extremely hard – knock reverberated around the room.
Unsure of whether or not to answer the knock, Travis simply stood up in silence, inching toward the entrance-
"Open the damned door." It was the Spartan's voice, and he sounded even harsher than he had on their first meeting. Hurriedly, Travis reached for the lock in the darkness and managed to unlatch it. "Thank you." The soldier growled, annoyed as he entered and light from the adjacent room lit up the darkened chamber.
"No," Travis said, trying to calm the Spartan down. "Thank you. We'd both be dead if you hadn't shown up."
"Yeah," he said bluntly as he stalked over to a laptop in one corner of the room, "you would." He turned toward Travis' mother and cursed quietly. Travis turned to face her and drew a sharp breath.
Laura Wilks was ghostly pale and holding her abdomen with her left arm, bracing her body against the floor with her right. Her eyes were partially glazed over and she seemed pained by every breath.
"You're infected." The Spartan said, abruptly pulling out an M6G Pistol and pointing it at her.
"What the Hell!" Travis shouted, stepping in front of his mother and blocking the shot. "Are you out of your mind? That's my mother you crazy-"
"She's infected." The soldier repeated calmly, reaching down and pressing a button on the computer, which abruptly began emitting a bright, blue glow that lit up the room. "She breathed in too many spores on your guys' little sprint, and now she's infected." He cocked his head to the side slightly, as if puzzled. "By all rights, you should be too."
"I'm fine." Travis snapped. "So is she!"
"Your immune system must be working at a higher capacity. That's the only reason you'd be in as good of shape as you are." He was nodding slowly. "But what about her? Does she look fine to you?"
"You don't know that she's inf-"
"He's right." Travis was suddenly cut off as his mother interrupted, coughing painfully as she did so. "I…I'm infected. I'm a…threat to…both of you."
The Spartan scoffed. "Hardly a threat to me," he said. "But once the infection is finished, Gravemind will have access to your thoughts and to your senses as well. He'll know we're here, and then I'll have to move." He paused, flicking the safety off. "I hate moving."
"Please," Travis said, risking a glance back at his mother before turning toward the Spartan. "Don't do this. My dad…he's already…" He worked to keep his composure, but this was the first chance he'd really had to accept his father's death, even though he'd known what had happened from the moment the Flood showed up on his doorstep.
Travis took a deep breath, eyeing the Spartan carefully.
"I can't lose her too." He pleaded.
"You already have." The soldier answered coldly. "And there's nothing you can do to change it. The sooner you learn that, the better-off you'll be. Accept it and move on."
"I won't." He answered sternly.
The Spartan let out an exasperated sigh before stepping forward, forcing Travis out of the way. Then he spun the gun in his hand and leaned down, handing it to Travis' mother.
"What are-"
"You'll know when the infection is reaching its final stages. The pain will be nigh-unbearable. When that time comes, put one here." He pointed sharply to the left side of her chest, right next to the sternum. "Got it?"
She nodded.
With that, the Spartan turned and walked out the door, closing it behind him and leaving only the computer to provide any sort of illumination for the chamber. Travis glanced toward his mother, mouthed "I'm sorry" and hurried out after the black-armored soldier.
"Are you insane?" Travis shouted, slamming the door behind him as he stepped into the next room. "What's wrong with you? She's dying, and that's your answer? To wait until the pain is unbearable and then let her put a bullet-"
"Not my idea," he answered bitterly, "yours. My idea was to exterminate the Parasite now, before the pain gets worse. You're the selfish bastard here, not me." He turned and walked toward the next door, the one that led out into the hall.
Travis was still stunned by the last verbal blow, but forced himself to speak before the soldier departed. "Where are you going?"
"Hunting," the Spartan answered simply.
"Hunting?" Travis repeated, confused.
"Let me give it to you in terms you'll understand. I'm leaving this building to kill as many of those undead bastards as I can find in the course of six hours. Then I'll come back with food, we'll eat, and I'll go back out at sunset to repeat the process. When I return, I'll train for four hours, go to bed, wake up tomorrow morning and do the whole thing over again." He paused. "Except for the whole 'saving your life' thing; that one I have no intentions of repeating."
The door slammed shut as he stepped out. Travis ran up to it and jerked it open in time to catch the Spartan in the hallway. "What's your name?" He yelled.
"Ezekiel," he answered without turning around. "Ezekiel Veron."
"It's no wonder you never had any friends," Demon said mockingly as Ezekiel walked slowly down the stairs, toward the bottom of the structure he called home. "I mean, don't you think you were just a little hard on the kid?"
"Life sucks." Zeke answered plainly. "The sooner he realizes that, the better his chances. There are some things you can't change, especially nowadays. People die. Friends. Family. Lovers. Kids. Civilians. Military." He scowled. "Everybody dies."
"And on that happy note," the AI said with false enthusiasm, "I've got the latest infrareds uploaded to your HUD. We've got considerable activity in the northeast corner. Flood must have found another sanctuary."
Ezekiel rolled his eyes at the mention of the word 'sanctuary.' It was a term that had been coined roughly four days after the UNSC bailed on whoever remained on Earth. The word was self-explanatory: it was used to describe hiding places that were thought to be safe and secure, completely unknown to the Flood.
And it was a joke.
The Flood knew these places existed. Sure, they probably didn't know exactly how many, or where they were all located, but even Ezekiel knew of at least three within the city of Victoria, and he hadn't been looking. That meant that the Flood, if they wanted, could find them in a heartbeat. The idea of a 'sanctuary' was a lie, a useless, pathetic fairytale to keep the children calm and to give the adults some semblance of hope.
What a waste of time. He thought.
"Anything else I should know about?" The Spartan asked, not really expecting an answer.
"Well," Demon said, "I'm expecting thunderstorms this evening, continuing throughout the night."
Zeke nodded. He'd sleep well with the storms raging on outside. He'd never known why, but it had been made abundantly clear to him over time that storms helped his ever-worsening insomnia, the stronger the better.
Finally, he reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped outside into the sunlight, which was still being filtered by the toxic gasses that had consumed much of the Earth's atmosphere. The cloaking on his armor was activated and he sprinted three blocks to the south, disappearing into a four-story garage and walking up to two steel doors at the back of an old semi, parked on the second floor.
"You really wanna go to the trouble of hiding it again?" Demon asked skeptically as Ezekiel reached for the doors and undid the locks. The AI asked the exact same question every time Ezekiel even considered breaking out one of his toys.
"Hey, I just risked my ass to save their lives. Let me have my fun." He grinned, swinging the two doors wide and looking inside at the giant, alien vehicle that loomed in the darkness. An enormous wheel in the front greeted him first, lined with deadly spikes and powered by Covenant engineering. The seat at the rear, normally floating, was lying on the floor, unpowered.
"Still glad you took this thing?" Demon asked.
"Hell yeah," Zeke answered with a smile.
"That's good," the AI added, "because I bet Blaine is still pissed."
Travis watched in horror as his mother's condition worsened before his very eyes. Soon after insisting on a room with more light, her joints had all stiffened completely and now she was curled up against the wall beside the window, holding the Pistol with a death-grip and pointing it loosely at her chest.
"No," Travis managed, trying to think of something – anything – to do to save her. He was cursing the Spartan, Ezekiel, in his mind. The bastard had left her to die and him to watch as he went out just going about his day as if nothing were wrong, as if there wasn't a woman in unimaginable pain curled up on his floor, praying for some kind of peace.
She cried out again, falling forward as her entire body began to convulse, and Travis caught her just before her face would have slammed into the floor. A second later, she regained control and, without a word, clicked the safety off on the M6G. She turned the gun toward her-
Another terrible spasm gripped her body and the gun fell from her hand, landing loudly on the floor. She turned her gaze toward Travis, and he could see the pleading look in her eyes as she glanced back at the gun, then back at him.
"No," he said painfully, "I can't." He shook his head fiercely. "I won't!"
"Please!" she cried, pulling her arms to her stomach, wrapping herself in her arms and recoiling back against the wall, crying.
Travis stared at the gun in his hands, which were now trembling uncontrollably. He felt tears in his eyes for the third time since the Spartan had left the building, but forced himself to hold them in.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't." Finally, he broke, and the tears began running down his face as he pointed the gun at the floor, away from the infected woman in front of him. "I can't!"
The Brute Chopper sped down another street in the northern half of Victoria, the engine roaring as Ezekiel searched diligently for more of the disgusting creatures that he'd spent the last hour slaughtering.
Unfortunately, since the last batch of Combat Forms twenty minutes earlier, he'd seen nothing even resembling the Flood. There were no corpses, no Combat Forms patrolling the streets, no Ranged Forms mounted to the sides of skyscrapers, surveying the ground below.
There was nothing.
"Demon," the Spartan growled, more than a little uneasy with the situation as he slowed the alien vehicle to a stop, "what the Hell is going on? I haven't seen the city this empty since…" His voice trailed off as he let out a loud sigh, abandoning the statement.
The AI took a moment to answer. "I don't understand it. We should be seeing them everywhere around here. The sanctuary was just in that last block we went by, and it was entirely decimated." He paused. "They never clean up this fast."
Zeke's instincts were all but screaming inside his mind, setting off red flags in his subconscious that were impossible to ignore. Such strange behavior from the Flood, along with the fact that he had visitors for the first time in what seemed like eternity…
It couldn't be coincidence.
"Maybe I'll head back to the-"
Something moved at the end of the street, and Ezekiel scowled as the shadow of the repulsive creature disappeared behind an old motel.
"Going after it?"
Demon had only just gotten the words out before the Chopper abruptly shot forward, the twin jets behind the seat suddenly erupting as Ezekiel activated the boosting mechanism and leaned forward, minimizing his profile on the large craft.
The Chopper reached the end of the street and Zeke slammed his foot into the ground in an effort to both slow the bike and also to assist in turning the awkward vehicle. Up ahead, the Combat Form that he'd seen was running straight down the street, away from the Spartan and his vehicle-
"Zeke!" Demon was suddenly shouting into his mind. "I can't believe I missed it!" The AI let out a bitter scoff before continuing with an air of annoyance, "I must have a short somewhere-"
"Get to the point!"
"They moved in small numbers, and it was all very erratic, so I didn't catch onto the pattern immediately-"
"Demon, now!" The Chopper continued boosting forward.
"The Flood are converging on the facility!"
"Shit!" Zeke quickly turned the vehicle to the left as hard as he could and immediately activated the boosting mechanism again, grabbing the M6G on his thigh and taking aim at the fleeing Combat Form that was now to his right.
BANG!
The undead human fell forward, stumbling over itself and hitting the pavement face-down, where it stayed, unmoving.
"Good shot," Demon said quietly as the Chopper tore westward down the streets of Victoria.
Ezekiel didn't answer. He was too busy cursing himself for leaving the kid and his mother alone in his house, knowing full-well that she was only getting worse and knowing too that the boy would never have the heart to euthanize her, even if it was to spare her unthinkable pain and suffering.
I knew he wouldn't do it, he thought bitterly. What the Hell was I thinking? I left it up to a dying woman to put herself out of her misery and leave her son alone in this Hell.
Had Ezekiel really been out-of-touch with people for this long, that he would make such a gross misjudgment about a pair of simple, scared civilians?
The black-armored Spartan took one hand from the handles of the Chopper and smacked it against the side of his helmet in frustration.
"What's wrong?" the AI asked.
"Nothing," Zeke growled, pushing the alien craft to go as fast as it could manage. In the distance, he could barely make out the very top of his building-
"Oh my," Demon's voice echoed in his mind, wracked with awe and disgust as the Chopper sped by another structure. Ezekiel couldn't help but agree.
There were dozens of them – Combat Forms – crawling all over the exterior walls of his makeshift home, screaming and shrieking for all they were worth. Windows were broken on almost every floor below his, and Zeke could see flames in some of the lowest floors.
"Great," the Spartan growled. "Just fantastic." He sighed. "Alright, let's get this shit over with." And he revved the Chopper again.
Travis clenched the Pistol tighter in his hands, pointing it sharply at the cast-iron doorway. His mother's transformation had come swiftly – much more so than he had expected – and he had been forced to take cover in the Spartan's bedroom, sealed away from the outside world in pitch darkness.
He hadn't even been able to pull the trigger when the undead monster in the adjacent room turned its face toward him and let out an ear-piercing scream before lunging at him with its deadly tentacles.
Now he could hear them, hundreds of them, crawling in and around the building, screaming and closing in on him while the monster that used to be his mother was banging on the locked door. Ironically, the ancient, repulsive music that was still coming from the Spartan's laptop was the only thing giving Travis any sort of distraction.
For the first time since he'd arrived, the boy was thankful for the black-armored soldier's need for noise. He listened intently, focusing on the words in an effort to keep his mind away from the shrieking outside.
…I'll face myself, to cross out what I've become. Erase myself. And let go of what I've done…
The Combat Form on the other side of the door screamed again – louder this time – and slammed its tentacles into the barrier again, sending piercing vibrations reverberating around the chamber. Travis wrapped his finger around the trigger, waiting for the Flood to break in and attack him.
There was no doubt in his mind, however. The Flood weren't there for him. He was just a convenient target, easy prey. They wanted the Spartan, and his mother had been their ticket to finding him.
Travis shook his head furiously. It was his fault. He should have done what he knew had to be and ended her suffering, but he just couldn't. It wasn't her fault that she was infected. Who was he to make the call that she wasn't going to make it? He wasn't God. He was just a seventeen-year-old kid trying to survive in the depths of Hell.
"I'm sorry," he whispered under his breath. "I'm so sorry." He didn't know who he was apologizing to anymore, his mother or the Spartan that had saved their lives. Because of his stupidity, they would both end up a slave to the Flood, and he would be right behind them.
The Flood would claim a Spartan to use against mankind, and it was his fault.
CRASH!
Travis heard a wall collapse a few floors below before the screaming grew even louder, reverberating through the ventilation system and around the walls. He could hear what sounded like gunshots, and wondered for the first time if perhaps there were more people living inside the Spartan's building.
And, with that, if there were more people dying for his mistake.
Suddenly, the pounding on the door stopped, and Travis heard another scream, deathly close, followed by silence from the adjacent chamber. He was about to move for the door when a hissing noise began echoing around the room. A moment later, the slightest hint of blue and white light came from the lock-
CRASH!
The door fell inward as the Spartan pulled his leg back, glancing once behind him before stepping inside.
He walked up to Travis and jerked the M6G from his hands. "Let's go."
"You don't have much time." Demon said, the AI's voice echoing in Ezekiel's helmet as he gathered his belongings. He paid special attention to the cross hanging on the wall and the computer in the corner.
"Thanks for that," Zeke snapped back sarcastically, listening to the creatures surrounding his building and smelling the repulsive stench of their decaying flesh. "I'd have never figured it out without your help." He took Travis into the next room and grabbed the two training swords from the wall, attaching them magnetically to his thighs.
"I'm sorry," the boy started.
"Forget it." Ezekiel growled. He cursed silently and sprinted back to his room, reaching under the bed and pulling out a low-grade gas mask. When he got back, he handed it to Travis. "Come on!"
With that, he led the way out into the hall before turning a hard right and moving to the staircase.
"We'll never make it." Travis said shakily. "They'll be waiting for us on every floor below."
Zeke smirked. "I'm counting on it." He said, moving to the stairway that led to the higher levels of the building. "Follow me." With that, he led the way up the steps, all the way to the highest floor under the roof.
The Spartan turned and rushed down the hallway that gave way to the steps, moving quickly to the end and taking the last door on the right.
"I hope you've got some major firepower up here," Travis said. "There are so many of them, I don't know…" He trailed off, and the terror and awe in his voice was impossible to ignore.
"Trust me," Zeke said, moving through an adjacent room and into his last stop – a single, wide room that had once functioned as a conference room. It's only defining feature was the row of large windows that served as its wall to the outside.
"Are you insane?" Travis shouted. "We don't even have a wall! I mean, I've kinda accepted that we're probably gonna die, but I thought we'd at least-" He stopped as Ezekiel walked toward one wall. "Wait, what are you doing?"
Ezekiel grinned, reaching one hand out into the six feet of empty space between him and the wall, searching blindly for the-
His hand brushed up against something solid, and he released the breath he'd been unconsciously holding. The Spartan grabbed a handful of the fabric in front of him and pulled the UNSC camouflage-cloak away-
"What is that?" Travis' mouth was agape as he shouted the question.
Zeke looked down at the Chopper with a dangerous smirk. He'd hoped never to have to use it, but the time had definitely come. He stepped forward and put one leg over it, gripping the controls. "My second Chopper," he said, nodding to the vehicle. "Now get on!" Travis obliged instantly, without a word.
The Spartan revved the vehicle loudly as the undead horde flooded the building below them. He could hear them running, screaming up the stairs toward them.
But he didn't care. Not anymore.
"You still think this'll work?" Demon asked.
"I think-" Zeke started, but was cut off as a crack of lightning lit up in the distance, followed almost immediately by roaring thunder. "Great," he said, turning back to the vehicle.
Taking his time, Ezekiel pulled the swords from his thighs and attached them to magnetic panels that he'd installed on the Chopper, holding them in place near his feet. Then he double-checked the weaponry and pulled a small piece of equipment from beneath the Brute vehicle.
"What's that?"
"Don't worry about it." Zeke growled, handing it to the boy. "Push this button when I tell you to. Whatever you do, don't drop it, and hang on to the Chopper. Questions?"
Travis shook his head.
"Good." Zeke said, nodding. He focused on Demon. "You know the plan?"
"Of course." The AI said with a tinge of apprehension.
"Here goes nothing." And he took off on the Chopper, pointing it toward the windows and boosting at the last possible moment-
The Chopper burst through the windows, surging forward and into the open air as the Flood gathered in the room that they had just departed. Ezekiel glanced at the ground below, watching as the undead swarmed like insects in the open streets.
"Hit the button now!" he shouted, turning his head slightly to make sure that Travis heard him. Zeke waited anxiously until-
A dull hum could be heard echoing from the small piece of equipment behind him, and the Bubble Shield suddenly activated fully, encasing the Chopper and its occupants in a bright, yellow dome.
"What is this thing?" Travis asked.
Ezekiel ignored him, focusing first on the six-story parking garage in front of them, and then on Demon. "Hit it." He said.
"Consider it done," the AI answered.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Zeke glanced backward as the entire world suddenly seemed to be moving in slow motion. The bottom four floors of the building he had once called home had spontaneously detonated, engulfing every being inside, along with a hundred more that were packed too close-
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The explosions reached the fifth floor, and then the sixth and seventh, repeating the process-
BOOM!
The rest of the structure – from the eighth floor all the way to the top – abruptly exploded as the C12 that Ezekiel had placed on every floor detonated at precisely the same time, sending a deadly combination of fire, smoke, and shrapnel in all directions as the overpressure surged all around-
"Well, I'll be damned." Demon said as Zeke watched the flames and metal shards hit and surround the Bubble Shield-
But that was all.
The overpressure, the explosive force of the blasts, the fire and shrapnel…none of it penetrated the Bubble Shield. Even as nearby skyscrapers shook dangerously and windows all over the block shattered, the Chopper was safe inside the shield, impervious to the entire event.
"Hang on!" Zeke shouted as he prepared to deal with the next problem: landing. They were just now above the edge of the garage, and the roof was still a good four stories below them. As a Spartan clad in titanium-plated armor, Ezekiel would be fine.
But Travis would be breaking a few bones in the fall, no matter how he went about it.
He allowed the front of the Chopper to dip down, sending them plummeting straight toward the top of the structure. When they were roughly ten meters from impact, Ezekiel jerked up on the front of the vehicle as hard as he could manage, effectively leveling it out before boosting-
CRASH!
The front wheel impacted first, and the force was great enough that even the anti-gravity thrusters under the seat weren't enough to keep it from bouncing off the concrete roof as the Chopper continued to skid along-
"Woah!" Travis shouted before Zeke felt him be thrown off the Covenant craft, landing on the concrete roof with a loud, painful-sounding thump. A full four seconds later, the Spartan managed to bring the vehicle to a full stop and turned around.
"Travis?"
The boy was laying face-down on the ground, unmoving, and Zeke could see blood already accumulating around his head.
"Shit! Travis!" He jumped off the Chopper and sprinted over to where the seventeen-year-old was laying. "Travis! Come on!"
Ezekiel gripped his shoulders and lifted him carefully up-
"Zeke," Demon said grimly, "Zeke, I'm sorry."
The Spartan set him down immediately, working to keep his breath and his mind level. The boy's face had been covered in blood, and his forehead had caved in on his horrendous impact with the roof.
"You couldn't have known." Demon said, trying to calm him as his heart-rate steadily rose. "It was your only way out. You never expected to have to move-"
"Damn it!" Zeke roared, throwing his fist into the concrete, denting it. "Damn it!" He repeated the motion, leaving another inch-deep dent.
"We have to go." Demon said. "You can't stay here. They'll find you-"
"Who gives a damn?" Zeke growled, standing up and walking to the edge of the garage. Across the street, he could see the remains of his building, and the Flood were still crowded on the road below…
What the Hell? Ezekiel thought, temporarily distracted from his emotions.
A moment later, he asked, "what are they doing?"
The Flood were gathered in droves on the ground below, and they were all looking expressionlessly at the top of the garage, just staring up at him.
But they didn't budge.
"What are they doing?" He repeated.
Demon took a long time to answer. "I have no idea."
The Spartan heard something shift behind him, and he turned to see Travis' body writhing on the ground. He heard bones cracking and then-
"No," he managed, shaking his head. "God, please no."
The Combat Form stood up, looking at him with a dull, dead glare. Its tentacles moved about slowly at its side but, apart from that, it was still.
"One of Zulu Company," a voice echoed inside his mind, and Ezekiel knew immediately the voice he was hearing. "The pitch-dark Spartan, in the flesh."
"Gravemind," he growled, looking at the undead form before him.
"This means you have failed again, now that another is slain." Gravemind's cold tone resounded in his mind. Ezekiel could only stare, stunned, as the creature continued, "tell me, proud Ezekiel: what is it like, this much pain?"
Zeke took an unconscious step backwards, almost stepping clean off the ledge of the garage. He was petrified, listening to this repulsive creature voicing thoughts that sounded too much like his own.
He had failed again, for a third time. Victoria had been first, and then the family that had relied on him only a week before…now Travis and his mother. He was a Spartan, trained to fight and win, to protect Earth and its people.
So why couldn't he do it? Why was he suddenly incapable of doing anything right?
"Silence," Gravemind said calmly, "a strange reaction. Have you no clever rebut?" When Ezekiel said nothing, Gravemind's laugh erupted in his mind, as cold and dark as it had ever been. "This is the once-proud Spartan!" Gravemind continued. "You trained so hard, and for what?"
"Leave me alone," he growled, working to suppress the emotions that were clawing at him from his throat. "Get the Hell away from me!" He activated his two Energy Swords, crouching into a fighting stance.
"It will be as you wish, Spartan. I have no need for war." Gravemind laughed coldly once again. "Your failure's done far beyond what I sought to do before."
Ezekiel was surprised at the response, but quickly realized that the leading Flood form was telling the truth. The undead mass that had gathered on the ground below him was dispersing, and the only one standing still was the Combat Form that had, at one point, been Travis Wilks.
"We will meet again," Gravemind's voice echoed again. "In the meantime, though, try not to dwell." The creature's voice was all but dripping with false sympathy. "It will all be over soon, and you'll be free of this Hell."
Almost as if it were on cue, lightning split the skies in a dozen places when Gravemind had finished, and the tainted clouds suddenly opened up, releasing toxic rain onto the city for the second time in eight days.
"You should find shelter, Spartan, or this storm's end you won't see." Gravemind said calmly. Then, the creature added, with obvious arrogance, "and rest peacefully tonight; for you have naught to fear from me."
As the rain hissed against the Spartan's shields and burned the flesh of the monster before him, the Combat Form abruptly turned away before walking in silence to the edge of the structure. Zeke watched, puzzled, as it dove – literally dove – off the side, all in complete silence-
A loud impact and the sound of crunching bones echoed through the streets of Victoria, and Ezekiel rushed to the spot that the Combat Form had leapt from. Cautiously, he peeked over the ledge.
"My God," he managed, turning away. Even so, he couldn't get the image of Travis Wilks' body, broken and mangled against the road below.
"Zeke," Demon started, "You didn't-"
"Forget it," the Spartan answered, taking a knee and working to steady his breathing as the acidic rain continued to pound his shields and his armor. "Just forget it. I've had enough for one day."
Author's Notes: So, I hope it was at least worth the one week's worth of waiting that I originally had. If you would, leave me just a little note to tell me what you thought. Next chapter, the main plot really starts up.
That being said, I have an announcement that, had I known I was going to have to make it, I'd have made two weeks ago:
I recently found a job (yay for me), and while I don't get nearly the hours I would like, I've been KINDA busy. It's Honda shutdown here this week, so my parents are home and stuff's getting done around the house and with the cattle. Toss that in with Gormanuyai getting back this weekend for a few days from his Navy-based journey into basic, time that I'll spend with my girlfriend, and my sad attempt at having a life (which I do try on occasion), and you've got quite the time-crunch.
With all that being said, I will try as best I can to keep things coming out once a week or so, but with my job started (as few hours as there are) and the rest of life getting in the way, things are hectic. It might well take two weeks or so to get something posted. I apologize for this, but...there's just nothing I can do. I'm not paid to write; I'm paid to work fast-food, sad as that makes me.
Thanks all, and my apologies once more. Enjoy the week ahead, and - of course - the 4th of July, for those of you sharing a country with me. ;)
- Raptor