A/N: Ah, another one of these author's notes. How fantastic they are. I will, again, give shout-outs to everyone who has reviewed or sent me PMs regarding the story, and everyone who has given constructive criticism. Also, the chapters after this will be shifting more towards war and action, so I'm going to try to keep the blood and gore to a T level. It won't be too extreme…depends on your definition of extreme.
The man opened like a ripe fruit; his flesh split easily, torn apart by the combat knife. Without another thought, I threw the lifeless body to the ground, spilling more blood than I needed to. Some of it spilled on my pants, but I ignored it; I already had blood on me from our earlier engagement, and Joseph and I were running out of time.
Miguel and Officer Gomez, if they weren't dead already, were inside the main storage complex, a wide two-story building in the center of the storage facility. We were working against time to try to free them; to make matters worse, the Brotherhood knew we were here. Stealth could only do so much; the silenced weapons and knife did a lot more.
I could see Joseph's silhouette race between buildings, outlined just barely by one of the large lights in front of the building's main entrance. There were three Brotherhood soldiers by the entrance, each gathered around a radio set, listening intently. I smelled smoke, coming from somewhere far away; I ignored it, as it was too distant to be any problem or concern whatsoever.
Joseph pulled off the first shot; the grunt went down immediately, his head smashing into the radio set as he fell face-first into the ash. The other two were quick to react, but not quick enough; two shots each from my rifle, and they joined their companion in the gray dust that covered the ground like polluted snow.
"Contact, left side!" Joseph yelled, and his cry brought a hail of bullets from the left side of the building. I could see shapes moving in the darkness, barely illuminated; I took shots at a few of them, and hit at least one of the grunts, knocking him flat on his back.
Take cover, take cover, my brain hissed as bullets bounced off the nearest storage unit. I fired off several more shots, the silenced rifle popping with each round. Joseph's silenced sniper was barely audible over the grunts, who had swapped any silenced weapons they had for more powerful rifles. That gave them the disadvantage; they could not pick our positions out simply by triangulating the position by listening to gunfire. We were at liberty to pick them off, as their shots were going off wildly. I picked off another one of them, and Joseph took out the last. Their bodies were now just shapes sprawled out in the ash, indistinguishable from each other.
I've killed ten tonight then.
Joseph stalked out of the shadows, staying crouched until he made sure that there were no more of them.
"We'll take separate entrances. They're still confused, so we'll be able to get the jump on them once we get inside. Keep an eye out for me, alright?"
Joseph tapped me gently on the shoulder before sprinting down the left side of the building, disappearing into the darkness.
I was all alone now; I could hear shouting in the distance, and felt the earth shake just a tiny bit. I could smell more smoke now, and realized that somewhere, something was terribly wrong. I decided that the front entrance would be my best bet; I didn't want to go running off into the darkness, for fear of becoming lost in the labyrinth. Gently, pushing aside some of the bloodied bodies, I stepped up to the main door, which was unlocked, and nudged it open.
It opened silently into a dim, empty hall lined with lockers. There was one small fluorescent light overhead that was fizzling out, illuminating hardly anything. I could hear voices; panicked, excited, ecstatic, angry. A medley of emotions and sounds, making me nervous; I slipped down the hallway, avoiding some piles of broken glass randomly scattered around, and stopped when I heard a voice coming from a nearby room.
"—tell me what happened, I can't under—"
"The whole fucking thing just went up in flames, the building's on fire, everything—"
"How? How did you—"
"I don't know, I don't know, the safety valves were all on, the pipes were sealed, there were no leaks…we've got fifty unaccounted for, and twelve for sure dead—"
I popped around the corner and threw my knife rather clumsily at the Brotherhood officer standing at the radio. It was a poor shot, thrown with poor form, but it hit its mark; the officer, hearing a sudden swish, turned around to face me and received the combat knife directly in the eye. The heavy combat knife threw him backwards, and he collapsed against the wall before slumping to the ground, dead.
"—are you there? Captain? Jesus, we need medical supplies and backup here, immediately!"
The radio cut out, the panicked man's voice disappearing. I knew where I had smelled smoke from; wherever the fire was, it was causing the Brotherhood a great deal of trouble.
All the better for me; I wondered how Joseph was doing, trying to infiltrate the building from another entrance; I crept out of the room, entering a smaller side hallway; all entrances seemed to lead to a large, circular central room that was dug into the basement of the building. The voices were coming from there; there were several men down there, raucous, excited shouts mixed with hushed, worried voices, audible even over the din of the others.
I shuffled down the hallway, armed with only the combat knife, deciding to forgo the rifle for now; in these close quarters, it would be noticeable even if it were silenced. I held the knife parallel to my arm, feeling my way along the wall down the unlit corridor.
There were three men standing at the end, overlooking the circular room; one voice stood out just barely above the others, but even while listening intently I could not decipher any words from it. I slipped into an adjacent storage room, which had a set of stairs leading down.
Basement access? What a lucky break, I thought as I slipped down into the basement; so far, everything was going relatively smoothly. I hadn't given a thought to getting out of the facility; the patrols knew we were out and about, and it was only a matter of minutes before they tracked us to the main building.
The basement was even darker, lit only by the main room's lights, which were down a pitch-black corridor. As I snuck down the corridor, a door on the left side of the hallway opened; for a moment, I thought that the figure that had stepped outside hadn't noticed me.
But I was visible in the light from the room, and he opened his mouth to call for help, drawing his revolver at the same time. He had no chance to finish either motion; as I fell back in surprise, hitting the wall, something sharp burst through his torso, its pointed end black and shiny. The sword slipped out of the raider's lifeless body without noise, and I just caught a glimpse of those haunting, shining white eyes before my savior sprinted up the stairs with superhuman speed, disappearing before I had a chance to catch him, or even say a word.
His eyes…they were pure white…
No, no, eyes don't glow like that. It's impossible, there's no such thing…
I rose up, brushing some debris off of my pants. The voices were escalating; I could hear chanting from the room, not that of prayer but that of encouragement, or a raucous crowd. I heard a slight pop from above me, and realized that Joseph had found his way in; that was the sound of his silenced rifle.
I edged my way up to the doorway leading into the main room; there were at least two dozen men all around the walls and none of them seemed to notice me. They were intent on the two men kneeling in the center; with a sudden burst of horror, I realized that those two men were Officer Gomez and Miguel, kneeling before a masked man with a handgun.
I assumed that that man was the ringleader; he wore a leather mask and robes reminiscent of those of a priest, only they were dark red instead of brown. I could hear him now, over the roaring cries of the audience.
"—these trespassers, men without honor or reverence for Our Lord, have come to us now, kneeling before their masters—"
I realized what it was now.
And execution.
The masked man was going to execute them; my heart was racing, beating at a mile a minute, as I desperately tried to think of a way to get them out of there. Shooting wouldn't help; I was outnumbered by enormous odds. The man raised his revolver to Officer Gomez's forehead.
"You do not deserve the benefit of last words, heathen. Close your eyes, and embrace the void."
The revolver roared, and Gomez toppled backwards, his body following his head with the force of the bullet. The crowd cheered, completely engaged in the macabre ceremony that was being presented to them. I bit my tongue and winced, watching as Gomez's blood pooled on the floor. The man turned to Miguel, who was awaiting his turn silently.
"And another heathen shall bleed on this floor, sanctified by our Lord, Leader of the Brotherhood. Close your eyes, and embrace—"
There was a pop, and the far wall of the room exploded; the small gas tank that had been there was gone, replaced by a fireball that lit the gas main and brought fire upon the unwitting crowd, who had just now realized that there had been an explosion. The ringleader was thrown backwards by the blast, as was Miguel; both of them toppled over onto the concrete floor, as a wave of hot air rushed through the corridor, stinging my exposed flesh.
There were more pops as flames crackled and screams of pain haunted my hearing, which was ringing from the explosion; there were men on fire, those who were caught in the explosion who were now torches, running around wildly. The men on the wall closest to me were unharmed, but dazed; my instinct was to kill now, my adrenaline pulsing as the flames spewed from the main gas line. I emptied my entire clip into a line of soldiers standing against a wall, still dazed and confused from the explosion. I doubt the bullets even registered with them as the tiny lead missiles tore into flesh and clothing, dropping every single one of the men. It did not register with me that I had killed eight defenseless, confused men in cold blood, without a single thought to my actions.
Miguel was just as dazed, struggling to pull off the blindfold he wore. I grabbed him by his collar and dragged him back into the corridor, putting a round into the writhing ringleader. Although Miguel was unharmed, the masked man's face had been scorched by the blast, the fabric of the mask blasted away and his skin on the right side red and bubbly, a grotesque sight that I quickly forgot as bullets rang out in the chaos. Miguel was struggling to get up, I set him down and held my weapon up, firing off several shots towards the other side of the room, where Brotherhood soldiers were assembling, trying to aid their wounded comrades as well as take shots at whoever was attacking them.
Miguel rose to his feet, his knees shaking and his hands quivering. I cut down two more Brotherhood soldiers, both of them armed and ready; the only reason I hit them was because they stepped out from their cover to try to get a shot at me, but my reflexes were quicker than theirs.
"What the hell…just happened," Miguel groaned, clutching his head.
"Explain later. Get up stairs," I spoke rapidly, not even bothering to complete my sentences. We were both taking cover behind a set of lockers as one last shooter took aim at me, trying to hit either one of us.
"He's still shooting—"
"On my signal…GO!"
I pushed Miguel out from behind the lockers and emptied the rest of my clip at the remaining soldier. At least one of the bullets hit him, and I saw his limp body jerk back from his crouching position and fall, lifeless, to the floor, joining his comrades.
Miguel was already up the stairs, where Joseph was standing, leaning against the doorframe and clutching his arm. I could tell something was wrong; I noticed that the sleeve was stained with blood.
"Just a small wound, the bleeding's already stopped," Joseph reassured me as I came up the stairs, almost slipping on blood. There were two bodies at the top, both of them with massive slashes across their chests; Joseph had found a blade somewhere, and had used it to great effect. His pack was also bulging; I knew what was in there, but I asked him anyway.
"They were difficult to find, but they weren't locked up or anything. I also found some ammo as well as something else…something interesting…"
I did not ask what it was, but motioned to his arm again, noticing that the stain was darker.
"I've already applied a tourniquet—we're out of time, we need to get out of here," Joseph said, and began to lead us back the way we came.
The complex was now a disaster zone; there was blood everywhere I looked, on the floors, walls, and in one case even on the ceiling, which was incredibly perplexing. The smoke was beginning to billow into the halls, making it difficult to breathe, and the smell was terrible, a combination of thick smoke, burning flesh, vomit, and urine.
It was refreshing to step outside, even with the ash continually falling, but we were not granted a reprieve; there were hoarse cries, shouts and orders, and I could see lights and moving figures in the distance, moving towards the main building.
"We've got to move…this way," Joseph hissed, leading us around the right side of the building, past the entrance and the way he had entered. We were now in a whole new area of the storage facility, one relatively untouched by our nocturnal intrusion. There were some footprints, however, barely visible in the ash.
"Try to walk in the footprints," Joseph ordered, which slowed our pace down significantly. Luckily, the Brotherhood soldiers were still a step behind us, trying to locate us within the building. I could see them behind us, troops surrounding the entire complex, hoping to catch us before we could leave. Unfortunately for them, we had already made our escape, but just a hair's breadth.
Ten insanely tense, silent minutes later, we were standing on the edge of the facility. Smoke was rising from the center of the complex as Joseph struggled to slice a hole in the chain-link fence large enough for us to slip through. Though slightly dull, the combat knife combined with Joseph's strength allowed us to slip out within a few minutes, sneaking out onto the dark, ash-blanketed highway that ran past the facility. It was not until we were about halfway back to the stronghold before Miguel asked us to stop.
As Miguel fell down onto a dusty street-side bench, his knees shaking uncontrollably, Joseph was suddenly hit with the realization that tonight had been a disaster.
"Gomez and Wesley…and the other team…this was a total screw-up," Joseph spat, slapping his palm against the wall of a bus stop.
"We got what we needed—"
"But was it worth the price we paid?" Joseph argued, and I was hauntingly reminded of the previous day when Ari sealed the deal with Caldwell.
Such is the price we pay.
"I cannot answer that. What's done is done, and we can do nothing about it now."
We sat in silence for a few minutes, before Miguel expressed his willingness to move on.
We returned to the stronghold at about five in the morning; there were two Capricorn trucks sitting outside the lobby, their crews fast asleep inside. Joseph bid us farewell, saying that he would catch some sleep in the bed of one of the trucks until the driver woke up. We bid him a somber goodbye and then returned to our own quarters, exhausted; Miguel nearly fell into his bed, almost unconscious, and it took me less than ten minutes to go to sleep once I hit the sack. I heard the voices again, but it did not keep me from sleep.
"The danger is greater than we believed. It threatens me—"
"Do you only think of yourself? This world has already been destroyed, but all you think about is your own wellbeing, brother. Think about these people…I've been with them; I was with one of them tonight. I fought with him, killed for him—"
"You did not let me finish. It threatens more than me; it threatens my world, worlds beyond, other universes. I did not intend for the consequences to be so wide-reaching."
"Perhaps you should've thought about that beforehand, brother. You stumbled onwards while building your world, so caught in a frenzy of creation that you were blind to how your creations wrought their own downfall."
"It is not too late to stop this. I did not foresee it, yes; I was blind, yes. But I can stop it. You need to keep your vigil over Leon Walker, as you have done tonight. But do not hold his hand."
"I have not been holding his hand. He fought on his own tonight, and he would not have survived if I had not started that fire, had not distracted the Brotherhood…had not killed that one man…"
"You have done well, brother, I do not doubt that. And I believe it is time for you to introduce yourself, but remember, do not hold his hand. He must find his destiny on his own."