Chapter 8: Shadows

An hour had passed since the group had parted ways. The drive across the sandy roads of Nevada was warmer once they left the wintery Red Zone. The early morning sun peeked over the horizon, casting long shadows that cloaked the dunes. Derek looked back behind the jeep. For the 17th time.

DJ kept his eyes out for any potholes as he drove down the road. "You keep fidgeting like that, and the next bump will knock you clean out of your seat."

Derek settled back in his seat. "Just anticipating a chase is all."

"Not with the distance we're getting." DJ moved his carbon sword from the footwell, stowing it behind him.

Upon seeing the blood tinged blade, Derek frowned. "Hang on. That's one of my smaller projects. The carbon weapons initiative if I recall correctly. How did you get one?"

"What, the sword?" DJ glanced over. "I snagged her off an Engineer who came too close."

"An Engineer decided to close the distance in a fight?" Derek raised an eyebrow. "With you?"

DJ looked back to the road. A razor-toothed grin graced his features.

"He ran out of bullets."

"Of course he did." Derek rolled his eyes. "What's the number on the crossguard?"

"001."

"My first prototype. We made it with mercury during the forging, so you could gauge its use by how stained it was." The excited spark in his eyes dulled. "That was the only time I got permission for live testing on a weapon."

"Live testing?"

"Involving people. I was more focused on making my weapon perfect." Derek waved his hand around. "This was before I had to worry about public backlash."

The jeep pulled into the front of an old gas station, just outside the Red Zone.

"Shant be long." DJ grabbed a walkie-talkie from the cupholder, leaving the other one for Derek. "If you see anything, radio me."

The Operative grabbed one of his M1911's and exited the jeep, heading for the door of the derelict building. From his seat, Derek picked up the radio and began looking around for signs of life.

A bell cheerfully chimed from above as DJ pushed open the door. What shelves were left have been toppled over, with bits and pieces of garbage strewn across the room. The counter had a paper on it dated three years ago, with the headline: "Are Pies Driving Nevadans Insane?"

Moving to the back of the room, DJ kicked the office door open, handgun raised. The office was mostly intact, besides a turned-over desk riddled with small bullet holes. A foul odor burned at DJ's nostrils, forcing him to cover his nose as he turned to the source of the stench. Dried blood and a rotten hand coming out from the ground behind the desk.

Spying a wall safe to his left, DJ hurried over. He grabbed the handle of the safe with his right arm, his whole body tightening as he pulled. Sparks fizzled from his fist as the door came clean off. Inside was a backpack, filled to the brim with canned foods.

DJ slung the bag over his shoulder, just as he heard Derek's voice.

"Uhhh… we have a problem."

He headed out of the room before fishing the radio from his pocket and answering. "What's up?"

"There's a massive sand storm headed our way and it's closing in fast."

Even through the grimy windows, DJ could see what Derek was worried about. The hurricane of sand fast approaching was easily six stories high, and all the more menacing by generating lightning within itself.

"Well. Fuck me." DJ murmured, staring through the glass as he hurriedly moved back to the front door.

His pace sped up to a run as the encroaching sand accelerated towards them. He threw the bag into the jeep's back tray. Derek jolted and dropped the radio as the pack's contents banged on the metal bodywork behind him.

DJ entered the driver's seat, slamming the door and kicking the battered vehicle to life. "Keep your panties on. The Reaper aint coming for you yet."

As they sped onto the road, Derek huffed and folded his arms. "Haha, real comedian you are."

Derek peered back at the approaching wall of sand. "How is this happening? The Mojave area doesn't get sandstorms."

Snorting, DJ put on his seatbelt, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. "I have a theory, but it's batshit obvious."

Derek attempted to follow suit, only to grasp at nothing to his right side. "What? You think Energy is responsible for this?" He shouted above the din of the swirling wind.

"Must be, how else do you explain a sandstorm that size?" DJ took a hard left onto the side of the road, throwing Derek up against the door as they sped into a rocky outcrop. "You wanna look behind us another 17 times to confirm they are probably using your most recent project to kill us?"

"Oh, fuck you!"

A battered and almost completely paint stripped sedan pulled up outside the old gas station.

Exiting the vehicle and entering the abandoned building hastily, a masked figure looked around, shaking sand from his trench coat.

The masks carbon fiber faceplate lit up the room with a soft green light. A few cans of beans sat on the counter next to a ripped open safe. Seemed whoever was there last left in a hurry.

The door had also been smashed outwards instead of in. In a hurry indeed. The claw marks on the safe door beside him gave him all the evidence he needed.

"Well. I'm on the right track at lea-" a loud crunching grabbed the man's attention.

His sedan had been thrown on its side by the wind and up against the wall of the gas station.

"Damn it. I needed that." He groaned, removing his mask, sand falling out from behind it.

He looked at the time on his HUD. 8:12 PM.

It was gonna be a long night.

The jeep pulled to a stop inside a small cave inside the rock formation. The storm had ripped the tarp off the back of the vehicle, leaving it hanging off the side.

Derek exited the bettered jeep, and looked around disheartened as he removed the gas mask.

"Close call, but I hope you have a better plan than just cave camping."

"Oh please, I've camped one too many times in shit scenarios to bother with that." DJ grabbed his gear and the food bag, passing it to Derek.

"So what is your plan here?" Derek asked, hefting the food bag over his shoulder.

DJ grinned, going over to the wall of the cave. "Watch this, it's like a low budget Harry Potter scene."

With a grunt of effort, DJ pushed the wall hard, revealing a seamless rock door on hinges.

Derek frowned, "Ok, a rock door hidden on the dark wall, what now?"

DJ rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "You are such a buzzkill you know? Inside."

The two entered the dark space beyond, the door closing behind them with a loud creak.

"What is this place?" Derek's voice reverberated around them, indicating a cavernous space.

Flicking a large switch next to the door, the area filled with light. Derek rubbed his eyes as they adjusted, and took a look around once his starry vision cleared.

An old ammo depot.

"I used to use this place as a staging ground for coordinating Red Zone attacks with Western op groups. Was a shitshow when I found it so I fixed it up to be livable." DJ dropped his equipment beside the door.

"Any idea what it was used for aside from an ammo depot?" Derek put the food bag on the kitchen like area as DJ blew the dust from a desk, setting his weapons out individually. "No clue. Maybe cold war hysteria from back in the day spawned this place. Government thinking Soviets might invade through California. It definitely wasn't AAHW or Antithesis. Architecture suggests otherwise."

"What makes you think that?" Derek looked around the room as DJ smirked. "One thing the Antithesis and the Agency share is a liking for clean and proper facilities. This place is too haphazardly cut from the rock."

"Fair point."

Derek investigated the carvings in the wall's uneven face. Old markings on the wall appeared with messages upon closer inspection. "Killroy was here" "WARFACE" and "Exodus" appeared frequently.

"So, what kind of missions were done from here?" He asked idly.

DJ sighed as he dumped some water out of the barrel of his M1 Carbine, the snow that had gotten inside it had melted finally. "Well, I remember we raided an arms shipment by biffing packs of explosives at the convoy. Fun times, low risk. Well, as low risk as throwing packs of C4 and grenades at vehicles can be."

Derek frowned. "Incident E28 was your doing? No wonder the reinforcement shipment never arrived."

"Yeah, we were pretty thorough." He looked down the iron sight of the now-empty rifle, before putting it back on the desk. "I estimated there was an outpost's worth of equipment in there that went up."

"Two and a half outposts worth." Derek sat himself down on one of the cot's to the side. Drawing a large bullet from his pocket, he began to rotate it around his hand, staring into the abyss.

Glancing over to DJ, who had bitten the top off one of his rifle bullets to get the gunpowder out, he felt a cold chill run up his arm, seemingly from the bullet. His vision returned to the ground.

"Should I tell him? No, telling him would mean the death of me for sure. Best he not know. Maybe later when things are less-"

"That's a huge bullet to be carrying all by itself."

Derek's train of thought was interrupted by DJ's voice right beside him. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed DJ walk right up to him.

"Oh. Yeah. Uhh… You see when we, the so-called Improbible Quintet, were formed, we each had something unique on our person." Derek elaborated.

"Jebediah wields a massive blade he calls the Binary Sword for example or that halo of his, or Cain who had the metallic arm… hand… whatever." He adjusted his coat and held the bullet in his open palm, staring at it.

"For me, it was this. My first gun I ever experimented on was an M60." Derek removed his glasses with his free hand and put them aside, looking at the bullet wearily.

"Before I was chosen as one of the Quintet I was just an R&D scientist who did field tests. My modified M60 was a prototype designed to replace the original in its shortcomings. I fell in love with it from the start, although after its main field test it was deemed unnecessary and scrapped." He held the heavy round up in the beams of the flood lights that lit the space.

"This bullet is all that remains of that prototype. I kept it as a momento to my first true success in weaponry development." He returned the round to his pocket and turned to his adoptive son.

"Although in truth, my specialty was in genetic experimentation, which is what got me my position because of my understanding of Improbability Energy in the genetics field. You already know the results of that."

DJ subconsciously felt his mutated right hand as Derek put his glasses back on.

"So… how does it work exactly?"

Derek looked back to him again. "Hmm? You mean the Energy?"

"Yeah. The effects it has on my body I already know about. One mutation of it causes these scales, and another are these talons that replaced my nails, which I assume is the same mutation as my teeth." DJ flexed his hand, his talons sliding in and out on reflex. "But everything else is a complete mystery. The lightning and sudden increase in mass are the obvious ones that elude me."

Derek inwardly smiled. He never did get to share his findings with anyone.

"Well. Your body is ruled by electrical impulses from the brain. The static or 'lightning' that comes off you when you exert your powers enough is merely a physical manifestation of those impulses. The rapid growth and sudden strength boil down to the impulses as well, however the Energy in that case simply causes rapid increases in muscle mass. In the past your fist would grow in size when you attacked, correct?"

DJ nodded. Although sporadic at times it proved an invaluable tool of his trade.

"That was because to make the attack powerful your body would channel the Energy to increase the size of your muscles to compensate for the power so you wouldn't literally tear yourself to shreds."

"Ok, makes sense, but why does my body not do that anymore? Am I just physically more powerful by default?"

"In a way, yes. Now the process that once increased your muscle mass simply reduces the pain you feel in your muscles and stimulates a more solid forming of muscle tissue instead of an expansion of it. In other words, don't expect to go all Hulk mode anymore."

Derek's face bore a more serious mask suddenly. "You can however potentially lose yourself in an instinctual blood rage instead as if you triple dosed on the serum. So long as you control yourself and keep a level head you should be fine, but be weary."

"So in short I can be a one man terrorist organisation. Great." DJ chuckled. "So what about other things?"

Derek sighed, folding his arms. "You could develop extra parts, your counterpart X-14 developed a set of horns, and still has the potential to develop other things. The extent of which is a predicted tail. I'm not going to go into detail about your other parts but I will say your libedo when the matter arises will be significantly higher than normal. Your mother would have made several jokes about it by now I am sure."

DJ glanced to the side, a little red in the face from the last part. He cleared his throat loudly and stood up.

"You should get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

Derek nodded, feeling the awkwardness of the situation. "Right. Just don't leave me out here in the middle of the night or something."

DJ snorted. "Like I would leave you out here. You're a valuable asset, not only to the Antithesis, but to me as well. I have more questions to ask after all later on."

Derek took off his glasses and put them under his cot. "Yeah, I suppose you do." He got up on the cot and rolled over to face the wall.

After a few minutes of silent thought had passed, DJ sat down beside the desk with his weapons on it and flicked on the radio lodged in the wall, putting on the headset and setting the frequency a few times till it was right.

"Designation 12, reporting in."

"Mountain."

"River."

"Sky."

"Wind."

"Dipstick"

"Gaylord"

"Yeah that's you alright DJ."

"Who the fuck else?" DJ shook his head smirking. "I need a message sent to East's HQ."

"Sure, what's the deets?"

"Main directive was a failure, but in failure I ended up with better results. Just say that I've got an I.E in custody with me. Hanne will know what I mean if no one else does."

"I.E? One of them scientists that fuck with the Energy right?"

"Yeah, something like that. I would ask how the Southern Division is working out for you, but I think I already know the answer."

"Yeah yeah, stick it where it fits. The Queen is alright, lets me work on weapons a lot otherwise, but you know being stuck behind a comms terminal is torture for me."

"Sure sounds like it. How's Claudet-"

"Coma. Tried to take four soldats on by herself. Killed two and mutual stabbed the third before backup arrived and the last one pissed off. She's gonna pull through but doc's got her under to stop her trying to get up to train while she's wounded."

"Pfft. You two are just perfect for each other then."

"Sod off. Last time I checked you're still a lonely fucker with a mega dong."

"Little bit more mega now."

"Shit. Next thing you'll say is that you've beaten someone to death with it."

"Well…"

"Come off it. Anyway, have you heard the big news?"

DJ sat up in his chair frowning. "Heard of what news exactly?"

The sound of shuffling papers and muttering filled the headset before Maria's voice returned.

"Your old buddy Hank .J Wimbleton hit the big time. Got himself a position in the fabled fuck-fest that is Delta Squad."

DJ grinned, blowing air out his nose. "That doesn't surprise me. He's a lethal little fucker, although probably not so little anymore. But Delta? Fuck me, I'm hoping he comes out the other side alive, I need a serious catch up with him about all the shit that's happened."

"Just don't fistbump him. You shattered Hanz' hand and left him only barely able to train for 3 months."

"Hey, he deserved it. We are on better terms now I guess but still." DJ leaned back in the chair a bit, the old wood back creaking in protest. "Anyway, the message."

"Mission directive failed but I.E acquired in the process. Anything else?"

"My mutation has advanced considerably since they received any information about me. Remind them that any info they have is most likely no longer valid."

"More of a fucking weirdo than they first heard about? Got it."

DJ rolled his eyes, sighing. "Fuck you."

"Hey you take care of yourself now ok? All jokes aside you're still just a young guy, you have a life ahead of you come the end of the war. Don't go dying over some order no matter how terrifying Hanne gets ok?"

"Yeah, I know. Thanks. Tell Claud I said hi when she's not out cold for her own safety."

"Will do. Oh wait."

"What?"

"You haven't heard about your old squadmate going AWOL and turning trator have you?"

"Fuck. Which one?"

"No names yet, young kid from the looks of the report."

"Fuckin… Damn it."

"Don't sweat it. He's in custody, probably awaiting execution."

"I know who it is, but that doesn't help ease the tension. Thanks for the heads up though."

"Sure thing. You gonna be alright? Your old squad seems to be falling apart faster than congress on a good day."

DJ sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Fuck sakes where's 574 when you need him…' Clearing his throat he returned from his thoughts.

"I'll be fine. I pretty much lost all fucks to give about them after they disowned me from graduation. I just don't want them to be a problem for me later down the line."

"You? Problem? No." A snort came through the headset. "Anyway, I better go, new shipment is coming soon and I have to be there to look at the new stuff."

"Yeah. I'll see if I can't visit at some point if I get the chance. Good luck."

"Same to you."

He cut the power to the radio and fiddled with the frequency dial, sighing

"Nothing on Eli and Hina then. Dead or on assignment I guess…"

"I knew we should have gone with the Agency's offer. This will be nothing but a mess I'm telling you."

"Piss off Zai. Pavel took the initiative and now we have a conduit to draw Energy off of, even if the Antithesis has control of him." The two other 'Contractors' were back to arguing.

Evidently, Pavel had had it.

Vanishing from where he was and appearing next to Zai, he drew a pulsing red sword and drove it through the unfortunate Contractor's shadowy chest, silencing his argument.

"You are too much of a liability to our goals Zai. Begone back to the realm. We shall reform as one with another."

Zai vanished into the pulsing blade, turning it's red blade a darker shade of crimson. While blind, the air chill was enough to indicate to Devus what had happened.

Contractor Pavel sighed, sheathing his blade. "We need a new third."

Another shadowy figure appeared beside Pavel, this one's shadow seemed to pull inwards in stark contrast to the outwards shadows of both Pavel and Devus.

"Contractor Jargon. I take it your sanity has been somewhat returned after the disconjointing of the Powers?"

The new Contractor merely chuckled lightly. "Sanity is but perspective. I assure you I will be fine."

"Good. You and Devus shall get to know each other over time. For now, you join our task at hand of keeping an eye on this young experiment."

The new Contractor seemed to be excited about the tasks at hand. "Betraying the will of the Auditor? Ooo, how exciting."

"Indeed. Now, we must maintain distance. The doctor knows of our presence but has not said anything. So long as we remain undetected we can continue to draw energy from this one until we have the power we need."

"What of the Powers? Surely they will discover us if we remain connected to him." Devus questioned, drawing Pavel's attention.

"That's why he has been assigned to their eastern division. It is far enough out of their reach that we will not be detected. Given enough time, we will be able to reform and become one again."

"Oh boy if Agitator gets wind of this he might disconjoint too!"

"Shut up Jargon."