The old red pickup rattled as it hit a particularly rough stretch of highway, prompting the few armoured militia members piled into the back to grab hold of the sides of the rusted cargo bed. Logan quickly joined them, shifting the rifle on his lap across to his off-hand before taking hold of the grab bar sitting above the passenger side window, the early morning frost that coated the windows tinting the outside world in a translucent shade of blue.
While the old forest road out of Hinton had definitely seen better days, it has since proven to be the staple of the beaten town, providing the only proper access to the XCOM convoys moving food and medical supplies between the few rural towns that had survived the closing days of humanity's two-decade long struggle.
He found it rather ironic, actually, that the most bloodshed came from those final few days of the war—any sense of structure among the alien ranks collapsed in an instant with the fall of the ADVENT Network Tower, leaving the invaders free to lash out at anything and everything they could get their hands on. Yet life in the boonies had been rather quiet those final few months—dare he say peaceful, even—on account of ADVENT simply having more important things to deal with than a tiny militia encampment in the middle of nowhere acting on their own terms.
Reports of alien patrols skirting the edges of their little commune had come few and far in between as the war drew to a close, the neighbouring checkpoints and facilities left to nature's mercy as the dying Elders returned as many of their units back to the city centres as they could—that was, all except for one.
He turned his attention to the teenager in the driver's seat, the kid's hands ten and two and his eyes unmoving from the road ahead.
"Hey, Connor, how far now?" He spoke up over the mechanical hum of the elerium-powered engine, turning the radio down a notch as he awaited the kid's reply.
He peeled his eyes from the highway ahead, tapping a button on the cracked GPS propped up on the dashboard in front of him. "About a minute, give or take. Not far now, boss."
With a confirmative nod, he returned his attention to the world outside, running his fingers along the wooden handle of his pocket knife before flipping it open once more. An older refugee clad in layers of tattered clothing caught his eye from the side of the road, a single gloved hand waving his soldiers hello as they passed.
"Fifth one I've seen," Connor said, peering back at the man in the rearview mirror. "Think we'll have enough food for them all?"
"We should, now that we have that XCOM relief truck passing through in a few days. Should give us enough supplies for at least another month. Between those guys and the meat we get from the hunts, I'd say we'll be more than fine."
The car slowed as their convoy turned off onto an equally run-down adjoining road, a rusted, overgrown sign pointing their way to the former ADVENT District 47 Border Customs.
"Speaking of hunts—first time, eh? Excited?" Logan spoke up, finally cracking his glazed expression with a toothy grin as he turned to face the kid.
"A bit nervous if I'm being honest, but don't worry, I'll try not to let you down, boss."
"That's what I like to hear," he chuckled. "Trust me, kid, you just need to get out there, bag a few kills, nab a few heirlooms, make a few stories for the bar… this shit becomes second nature in no time."
The pickup slowed as the abandoned checkpoint sitting high above the roadway ahead took shape through the clearing, the lush green underbrush beginning its journey up through the shattered windows sitting on the front of the old security booths mirrored either side of the road. His eyes drifted to the old admin building to the checkpoint's left, and in turn the dusty windows lining the building's front, a crowd of inhuman eyes returning his gaze as the convoy pulled off into the desolate parking lot still lined with an early-morning mist.
"Is that... a white flag?" Connor asked, leaning up over the steering wheel as they slowed to a halt. Logan followed his gaze to the two maskless Hybrids holding up a torn flag in the windows, specs of ADVENT-red still poking through the fabric's white overcoat.
"Seems to be," he replied, a wry smile spreading across his lips as he pressed a hand to his two-way. "Looks like they're giving up already, boys."
The laughs of his soldiers broke the still of the early dawn, their voices echoing out over the wind as they piled out from the backs of the trucks, chatting and joking as they busied themselves with readying their equipment and double checking their supplies, everyone eagerly waiting to hear their next move.
"And here I was thinking we were gonna get a proper battle!" one of his grunts radioed back, a few more laughs echoing back and forth.
"What do we do if they surrender? Ever seen any xenos surrender before?" the kid piqued up, leaning forward in his seat for a better look at the building.
"Once or twice," he replied, flicking his folding knife open and closed as he followed Connor's gaze. "But don't worry, I've got a rather… fool-proof plan to sort it out."
"Alright… what do we do, then?"
"What do you think? Get that drone in there and see what we're up against."
"Oh, I just…" he trailed off, a few moments of thought overtaking his words before Logan snapped the blade closed, giving him a sideways glance. "Sorry, nevermind. I'll get on it."
The bite of the early morning cold settled through the cab as Connor rolled down the driver's side window, taking his GREMLIN to the skies before pulling his sticker-adorned laptop from his field bag, hammering away at the keyboard for a few brief moments as the drone pressed on towards the building.
"Commencing scan now," Connor muttered, typing something onto the screen as Logan continued to mindlessly play with his knife, still gauging the building's windows for whatever targets he could pick out. "Looks to be... eight biological life signs—five Hybrids, two Vipers, and a Muton. Heat mapping isn't picking up signs of any active mechanicals."
"Of course it had to be fucking Vipers," Logan grumbled, unclipping the gas mask from his combat belt. "Any other surprises?"
"Not that I can see," he replied, slamming the laptop shut before sliding it back into his bag. "What do you suppose we do now? Lead them out, tie them up?"
He opened the car door, stepping down to the cracked asphalt below as he slid his folding knife into his back pocket. "Sure, something like that."
His bustling men settled, the occasional conversation that echoed across the empty lot dying down as his group shuffled into position behind the trucks, their rifles ready to move at a moment's notice.
"I wish to speak to your leader."
His voice echoed out over the empty car park and into the woods beyond, the few visible figures beyond the dusty glass all stopping and turning to listen. A moment of silence passed before the front doors slowly opened, a maskless Hybrid adorned in old, worn-down Officer armour peeking its head out.
A few of his men raised their weapons, but a hushed scolding and a wave of his hand was enough for them to stand back down.
"We don't have leaders. Not anymore," its voice echoed back. "But I'm willing to speak for everyone here, if need be."
Figures shifted in the shadows behind the windows, their mouths moving with words he couldn't hear.
"I just want to let you know that we're offering you all one, single chance here," he replied, making a show of placing his rifle back in the truck before stepping out from the cover of the car door. "Are any of you armed?"
"No, none of us are armed. Our weapons stopped working after we got disconnected from the Elders," it replied. "Please, we wish you no harm. We're all willing to go peacefully."
"Well, I must say, though, hiding away in that building isn't exactly instilling much confidence in me or my men. Step out so we can discuss this face to face."
The Officer turned around, exchanging a few brief words with an unseen figure before meeting Logan's gaze once more; poised, despite the concern dotting its face. "I understand. I'm coming out now. I'm unarmed, but I understand if your soldiers need to search me."
The front doors slowly drifted open, the Officer's pudgy hands raised in surrender as it stepped out into the light. "How about I just—"
"Carter, now."
A gunshot cracked over the dead silence of the woods, lingering in the air for a few seconds as it traveled out through the dense forest before breaking on the distant mountain range. The sniper perched in the trees behind him cocked the bolt of his rifle back, a soft clink echoing through the air as a lone shell fell forgotten to the forest floor beneath his boots.
Logan turned, pressing a thumb to his radio as he began his slow, methodical stroll back to the truck. "Leader's down, that should make things a bit easier. Have at 'em, boys."
And in an instant, the sound of gunfire broke the ambience as flashes of brass flew across the abandoned lot, a handful of men laying down fire on the building ahead as the rest marched forward across the desolate parking lot. He threw the door to his truck open, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder before meeting the gaze of his techie still sitting wide-eyed in the driver's side seat.
"Come on, Connor. Get moving," he spat, pulling his gas mask on in one quick motion. "Grab your gun, you're with me."
Connor hesitated for a moment before nodding, grabbing his rifle from behind the seat and taking the gas mask from his bag. Whatever was on the kid's mind, he didn't seem willing to let it be known. Logan just chalked it up to pre-fight jitters.
He turned back to the building ahead, the frosted glass windows all but shattered as a few of his men disappeared into the rising dust inside, the barrage of gunfire fading into occasional bursts of brief, much more focused shots echoing out from the building's interior.
Connor broke into a jog to keep up, his gun tucked awkwardly under his armpit as he fumbled with his gas mask.
"That was your plan?" Connor asked, his voice muffled as he clipped the mask into place.
Logan turned back towards the building, the two of them beginning their march side-by-side. "What about it?"
"It just… Why did we shoot? I don't..."
Logan couldn't help but laugh, a toothy grin spreading across his face from under his tinted visor. "That's what's got you so worked up? Seriously?"
"No, no, it's just…" he trailed off, double checking his gas mask before taking his rifle to two hands. "...they surrendered, right? They weren't going to fight?"
"Fuck, Connor—they're aliens, not humans."
"Right, right, of course," he replied. "Sorry... just... forget I ever said anything."
"Trust me, kiddo. It's just those nerves of yours. You'll get over it in no time."
Broken shards of glass crunched under their boots as they approached, stepping up through a broken window before taking a brief glance around the small lobby they found themselves in, old blankets and empty cans scattered about the hard-wood floor.
Logan stepped through a puddle of murky blood, leaving yellow boot prints in his wake as he marched towards the small group of men idling around the front desk.
"Someone give me a casualty count," he said, waving at the few soldiers idling around the room.
"Three confirmed deaths including the Officer outside, sir," a soldier called from across the room.
"Do we have a fix on the Vipers at all?"
"Negative."
"The Muton?"
"Couple men disappeared into the back, said they're on it," another butted in.
A few bursts of gunshots echoed through the building, a quick back and forth between two soldiers echoing through his two-way.
"Alright, fan out and find the rest of 'em," he replied, waving the soldiers on. And with that, they obeyed, half splitting up down the different hallways while the rest jumped up and over the front desks, breaching their way into the staff room beyond.
Gunshots continued to fill the brief silences, echoing from all around them as they broke away down a nearby hallway. A short-lived conversation buzzed across his radio, a few shouts echoing from somewhere down the hall as his men confirmed one more kill.
"Hey, uh, boss." Connor spoke up from behind. Logan turned back around to face him, following his gaze to an office door sitting ever slightly ajar. "Think they could've gone in here?"
He responded with nothing more than a wave of the hand, ushering the kid to ready up behind him as he slunked into cover by the side of the door, a small grin spreading across his face as he readied his finger against the trigger. And with a confirmative nod, Logan pressed the door open with the barrel of his rifle, a blur of yellow and orange coming down on him before he could even react.
Two clawed hands wrapped around his rifle and pulled back hard, a burst of shots ringing his ears and showering his visor in dust and debris as his bullets left their mark in the ceiling above.
"Connor, shoot this fucking—"
His words caught in the back of his throat as a muscular tail swept him from his feet, knocking the wind from his lungs as he came crashing down onto the hardwood floor below. The snake dived for the rifle as it clattered to the floor, but a well placed kick just below its chestplate was enough to knock it from its target, granting him the precious milliseconds needed to regain his grip on the rifle.
"G-Get off him, or I'll sh—"
A second Viper pounced from its flank on the door, knocking the kid to the ground somewhere out of sight.
Logan regained his grip on the rifle, but the Viper on top of him pinned it to the ground before he had the chance to raise it. He grabbed at his hip holster, drew his pistol, and blindly fired; his shot striking mere inches off target as the Viper swatted his hand away. He swung the gun back around, and the Viper grabbed for his wrists, another shot ringing his ears as a few drops of yellow blood splattered the front of his visor, a fresh hole in the Viper's hood.
"Sister!"
"It missed, it missed."
The soldier tried to pull his arm back up, but the snake simply pinned it back down even harder, another accidental discharge sending a hot shell clinking to the ground as the Viper tried to shake his grip, its slitted red eyes boring right into his.
"Just… give… up…" the snake hissed, almost as tired as he was. "We're not… going to…"
He brought his knee hard into its muscular side, his kneepad dealing the brute of the impact. It was barely enough to do any damage, but it was definitely enough to make it flinch, its grip on his wrists wavering just enough for him to slip the weapon free from its grasp.
Mere seconds passed as he regained his bearings, sitting himself up as he took aim for the snake in front of him, but a hiss rang out from behind, a thick, leathery tongue wrapping around his neck and tearing him backwards before he had the chance to fire.
He landed on his back hard; the pistol falling from his grip and sliding across the floor as the injured Viper pounced, grabbing control of his arms before he had the chance to retaliate.
"I'll… fucking… gut you, you… bitch…" he huffed between breaths, his kicking and thrashing growing less and less energetic as the fatigue finally caught up through the adrenaline, sweat dripping from his hair and trailing down his face.
"Please… just stop…" the Viper huffed, its voice as worn as his. "We're not going… to hurt you… if you just... comply…"
"Sister, you're bleeding."
Another drop of blood landed on his gas mask, trailing his visor before seeping into the collar of his jacket. The Viper pinning him down peered up at the second Viper, blinking a few times before flattening its hood against its neck. "Is it… bad?"
"It's a flesh wound, it'll heal," the other replied. "Quick, get him up before more of them come."
He kicked and thrashed in one last futile attempt to get free as the Viper rolled him onto his stomach, pinning his hands behind his back.
"I'm going to fucking skin you both," Logan huffed, his voice muffled by his mask. "I swear to God, I'll skin you and hang your hide from my truck."
Coming back down from his adrenaline high, Logan found himself returning to the world around him; muffled shouts and distant gunshots echoing through the building from afar, a few brief back and forths buzzing from the handheld pinned between his chest and the carpeted ground, his entire team blissfully unaware.
His gaze fell on the Viper coiled up against the wall in front of him, one hand pinning both of Connor's arms behind his back, the other wrapped around its chest as its slitted red eyes kept to the open doorway beside it.
"Sister… are you certain this is going to work?" the snake pinning him down said.
The one holding Connor broke its gaze from the door, turning to face its companion. "It… it has to, there's no other way. This is our best chance."
His radio buzzed over the silence, a call intended for the group's leader falling unanswered. It was about damn time those idiots realised something was up.
Connor met his stare from behind his foggy visor; his breaths quick and shallow, his trembling hands pale. And while his gas mask hid any sort of emotions, it wouldn't be too far-fetched to assume the kid's cheeks were stained with tears.
"Please, I'm sorry. This wasn't my idea. It's my first mission. I didn't know it was going to go down like this," his voice quavered. "Oh, God, please, I don't want to die."
"We're going to both fucking die in a moment if you just keep sitting there doing nothing," Logan hissed, prompting the Viper atop him to tighten its grip.
Both his and Connor's radio buzzed to life in unison, a much more concerned voice requesting a radio check that never came.
"You're not going to die," the Viper holding Connor hissed. "Neither of you are. We just want to leave, alright? We get to the woods and we'll let you two go. You'll never see us again."
"You really think you're getting out of here alive?" Logan spoke up.
One of his men called out across the building, their shouts growing closer and closer by the second. Someone called the all-clear on an office a few doors down, a few more voices chattering back and forth as his team began to get a lay of the situation.
"I have twelve men armed to the teeth looking for me, and they won't hesitate to pull the trigger like Connor here did."
A single gunshot echoed from a room a few doors down, the two Vipers snapping their heads towards the hallway in unison as a voice buzzed over the comms, confirming his team's eighth and final kill. All focus was on their missing leader now, and it wouldn't take long for them to find him.
"This isn't going to work…" the Viper on top of him hissed, its voice shaking.
"Don't listen to him, sister. He's just trying to scare you."
"By the Matriarch, we're going to die here, aren't we?"
"Sister. Calm yourself."
"I-I… I don't want to die here, sister… I don't want to die..."
Every few seconds their radios buzzed to life as his men cleared each and every room one by one, their search ever so slowly narrowing down.
"Turn it off," his captor hissed.
"Sister, don't," Connor's captor replied.
"I said turn it off. I can't listen to this." The Viper's grip grew slack as it moved both his arms to one hand, the other reaching around for the radio strapped on his front. Logan steadied his breaths, his sights falling on his pistol sitting abandoned in the middle of the room.
"Sister, watch him before he—"
He felt a tug at his radio, and Logan didn't waste a second more, ripping his arms from its grasp as he rolled onto his back, sending a right hook directly into the side of its maw before it even registered what was going on. It felt as though his fist had come down on a solid brick wall, yet the sucker punch was enough to stun it for the brief second he needed to make a desperate dive across the floor.
His fingers found their way around the grip; the familiar weight in his hands all but short-lived as the Viper's claws grabbed hold of his wrist, a searing pain shooting up through his arm as its talons dug in deep. The pistol fell once more as the Viper pounded his bloodied hand against the hardwood, flicking his pistol away with the tip of its tail before dragging him back into its arms.
"You fucking bitch," he hissed through gritted teeth, warm blood staining his torn jacket sleeve as the Viper pulled him back into a hold. "I'll fucking get you for this."
"Christ, Logan, just... stop before you get us both killed," Connor spoke up, his voice still shaking. "You heard them. Just to the edge of the woods, and they'll let us walk free."
"Please, listen to your companion. We just want to leave here alive."
"Logan!" a voice called out from down the hall, well closer than the rest. "Where the hell are you?"
Everyone seemed to turn towards the doorway in unison, his captor's breath growing faster as its tongue cautiously flicked through the stale air. He parted his lips, sucking in a breath of air in preparation for a call for help, before letting his words fall unspoken as the snake's warm breath fell heavy on the back of his neck.
"Don't try anything," it hissed.
"You've already fucking cut me, bit late for threats now."
"I mean it."
He couldn't see it, but he could sure as hell feel it—two wet fangs pressed to the back of his neck like a blade, tipped with enough venom to kill a hundred men.
Its trembling breath defied the intimidating facade it tried to put forth, the footsteps in the hall growing louder as a lone soldier approached, willfully ignorant of the situation unfolding just a few rooms down. "Logan! Answer your damn radio! We're regrouping at the front foyer!"
"I'm in here—"
His voice caught in the back of his throat as the Viper tugged him back by the gas mask, pulling him kicking and thrashing to his feet before taking hold of him like a human shield, Connor's captor following suit. The footsteps in the hall hastened as the Viper gripped him by the neck, pulling his head back into its hood before pressing its wet fangs up against his jugular, saliva trailing his neck and dampening the collar of his jacket.
The door flew the rest of the way open, slamming into the far wall with a bang as the lone soldier breached the room, his rifle promptly sweeping between the two of them. "What the—"
"Stay back! Stay back or he dies!" Connor's captor hissed.
The hand on his mask pulled back harder, the snake's maw opening even wider as its fangs brushed against his neck, dissuading him from any sudden movements.
The soldier traced the far edge of the room, his rifle moving between the two of them before he pressed a finger to the radio strapped to his chest, cutting through the middle of an idle conversation. "Backup! Backup! Hostage situation, north wing. Fuckers nabbed Logan and the techie."
Their radios burst to life, the lone militia member pacing back to the doorway as he called out for anyone nearby, distant shouts echoing back from the hallway outside.
"This isn't going to work," his captor spoke up.
"We have no other choice. It'll work," the other replied, its words uncertain.
The lone soldier turned back to the two Vipers, unsure of where to aim his rifle. "Fucking hell... Logan, you good?"
"What the hell do you think?" he spat, blood still dripping from his sliced wrist and staining the Viper's yellow-scaled forearm.
Voices rang out from the hallway outside, the rapid, rhythmic thuds of heavy boots and gentle clanks of his unit's old-world weapons cutting through the rickety ambiance of the old building as the rest of his men converged on the scene; half their weapons trained between the two of them, the other half pointing to the ground, looking between one another for some indication of what they should be doing.
"I swear to fuck if one of you guys shoot me," Logan grunted, twisting and turning against the Viper's grasp as he pulled himself into a much more comfortable stance.
One of his men took a cautious step forward, the Viper tugging him back in unison. "How the hell did you manage this, aye?"
"Back!" Logan's captor hissed, the few men scattered about the room all flinching back in unison. "I swear on the Matriarch, I'll do it! I'll kill him!"
"Sister!" the other snake scolded, its back against the wall and arm wrapped tight around Connor's chest, the kid's hands sitting high in surrender and completely unsecured.
What I wouldn't do for that sort of freedom right about now.
"You can't kill me," Logan grunted, bucking against its grip. "I'm your only bargaining chip here—if I die, you die, too."
"Well, at least you'll be dead too you… you… monster." Its voice cracked under the last word; its breath trembling against his neck, and Logan couldn't help but cackle.
"Just stop. No one has to die here. There doesn't have to be any more bloodshed." the snake holding Connor spoke up. "Lay down your weapons, and let's just talk."
A few chuckles echoed through the crowd, their rifles unmoving. "As fucking if, snake."
"You heard it. Stand down."
"Logan, you can't be—"
"I said stand the fuck down," he snarled. "That's an order."
He felt the Viper's fangs ease up as his men turned to one another, their weapons slowly lowering to the floorboards one by one. A few took to a defensive stance, ready to move for their rifles at a moment's notice, while his more seasoned soldiers simply took a step back, their arms crossed as they watched the situation unfold.
"You want to talk, snake? Then let's talk," one of the grunts spoke up.
Connor's captor—the seemingly self-appointed leader of the two snakes—appeared to hesitate, its slitted red eyes glancing from gas mask to gas mask as it picked its next words rather carefully. "I-I want to speak with your leader, whoever orchestrated this massacre. Whoever's giving orders here, I want to speak with them."
"You already are," Logan replied; disinterested.
The two Vipers exchanged a silent look, silence befalling the room.
"Then… then tell your unit to stand down."
"I already told them—"
"All of them. Everyone in the building. We don't want any surprises."
"Then I'll radio ahead," he replied, nodding to the two-way strapped to his chest. "I'll have everyone between here and the front foyer stand down."
"Everyone?"
"Everyone."
The two Vipers peered across at one another, a few seconds of consideration passing the two by before Connor's captor gave the other a confirmative nod.
"How do I… how do I turn on your radio?"
"Big button on the side. Press it in."
He felt its scaled hand cautiously peel away from his gas mask, allowing him a moment to stretch his neck as its clawed hand trailed down his combat vest, coming to a stop on his two-way. For a second it fumbled with it, but the snake eventually found its way, the radio lighting up with a brief squelch as it pressed a claw down on the button.
"Don't try anything," the Viper hissed, its voice faintly echoing out over everyone's radio in unison. "I mean it."
"I'm not sure what you think I can do here, but sure, if it makes you feel any better." He paused, collecting his next words as the Viper ever so gently returned its fangs to the back of his neck; a friendly reminder meant to dissuade him from trying anything malicious. "Hunters, be advised, it's Logan. As you've probably heard, we've got a hostage situation unfolding in the building. Two Vipers have managed to get the drop on myself and one other soldier, and they're requesting for everyone to stand down and let them leave into the woods out the front."
"Once we're in the woods we'll let them both go unharmed," his captor added.
"You heard it. I'm commanding everyone to stand down until further notice. We've got no other options but to let them go. I repeat—stand down until further notice."
"A-And no one leaves the building. No one follows us, alright?"
"Don't leave the building," Logan repeated. "Don't follow us."
The Vipers shared a look, and after a few brief seconds of hesitation they began to move, the Viper's warm breath heavy against his skin as it pressed its fangs back up against his neck. His men remained silent, their weapons still on the ground.
"Alright… alright, just follow my lead, sister."
Connor's captor began to move, and with a nudge in the back to usher him on, Logan's captor quickly followed suit. They met in the middle of the room, keeping their fronts to the crowd of soldiers as they backed themselves up towards the lone doorway.
The faint rattle of his mens' gear filled the silence as his soldiers stepped back to let them pass, the Vipers' stares snapping from gas mask to gas mask as his men slowly circled back around like a pack of wolves, watching them close as they made their way out of the room and into the rather chill air of the hallway outside.
It didn't take long before his boots kicked through a pile of scattered shells, the brass casings wet with the yellow blood leaking from the motionless Trooper slumped up against the wall, bullet holes littering the ground around it.
The tip of his captor's tail brushed up against the cold blood, the snake slowing to a stop as it turned its attention from the soldiers trailing them from behind to the corpse below, its eyes frozen on the body. "Sister… that's four-eighty three…"
"Don't look," the other hissed, briefly peering back at its companion.
"They… they executed him…"
"There's nothing we can do now, sister. We need to focus on getting out of here."
He could feel its arms shake, its yellow blood dripping down its hood and seeping into his shoulder as it slowly let its grip fall loose. But he instead kept a level head, eyes forward as his fingers scratched against his back pocket, silently calculating every option he had—which was, unsurprisingly, not that many. Maybe if I sacrificed the kid, though...
"Matriarch's mercy, I don't want to die… I don't want to die, sister…"
And to his surprise, it wasn't Connor's captor that answered, but Connor himself, the young teen twisting around and meeting the snake face to face. "Hey, come on, you're not dying today," he said in a hushed voice, his captor turning back in silence. "You heard him, right? Everyone's standing down. You're both walking free."
It peered back at the soldiers keeping their distance down the hall before taking a deep breath, giving the dead soldier one last disheartened stare before slithering on once more, steering clear of the pooling blood as it passed.
"Thank you," Connor's captor whispered, barely audible over the silence.
They pressed on down the never ending hallway in silence, his soldiers—most with their weapons returned to their backs—following from a distance, the small group slowing every time the Vipers looked behind them.
"The war's over… you two don't deserve to die here. This entire mission was a mistake. I don't even know what I'm doing here," Connor muttered to no one in particular, a look of sympathy in his eyes as he glanced between the two snakes. But his attention quickly found its way from the Vipers to his leader, whatever he had planned to say next never making it from his mouth.
The breath on his neck grew steady; the tension in its trembling claws falling. Whatever the kid was trying definitely seemed to work.
Two of his men stepped aside as they passed, stopping and staring as the Vipers dragged them along, his captor's fangs still uncomfortably close to his neck.
The Viper up ahead may have well been walking Connor arm-in-arm, its one clawed hand pinning both his arms from behind as the other laid clenched by its side, its inhuman eyes constantly glancing back and forth between the sunlight leaking in through the lobby windows ahead and the few of his men keeping a close watch from behind.
"What do you two plan to do once you get out of here?" Connor asked, peering back over his shoulder. "I mean... I don't think there's anything out there for your kind. At all."
"City 31," his captor replied. "We were all travelling there together. Stopped here to get some rest and gather some more supplies."
Logan scoffed, and the Viper responded with a jab to the back.
"I heard about it on the radio, that's quite a journey. If you're... uh..." The kid's voice fell timid, his words uncertain as he met his leader's gaze through the yellow blood trickling down the front of his visor. But Logan kept his mouth shut, quite interested to see where the techie could take this little improv of his. "If you need supplies, we... we have food and water in the trucks. And maps."
"Really?" Connor's captor asked, tilting its head down to meet him face to face.
"It's the least I can do," he replied. "I mean, none of this was meant to happen. I-I… always thought you were nothing but mindless killing machines. It's all I've ever been told, but… when… when your sister started saying that she didn't want to die, I just… I just… Christ, what are we even doing here?"
The two of them slowed as they reached the wide-open space of the front foyer, the bite of the early morning cold drifting through the shattered windows that lined the front. The few remaining members of his team were dotted on either side of them, leaning back against overturned desks and bullet-riddled pillars alike.
Everyone turned to face them as the Vipers slithered forward into the sunlight, the few men that were tailing them from behind stopping by the end of the hallway.
"So... you two are sisters?" Connor asked, his faint voice meeting no resistance over the silent room.
"Not in your kind's sense, no," his captor replied. "We have numbers, not names, and we simply find it easier to refer to another of our kind by 'sister,' rather than by barcode."
"You two seem close, though."
"We've been together since the Disconnection a month ago," it replied. "Haven't left each other's side since."
Logan's captor peered back over its shoulder, tugging him around as it met the visors of his soldiers creeping in their shadows, testing their limits as the Vipers grew closer and closer to the wide open exit ahead. He grunted as it pulled his head back into its blood-stained hood, its fangs pressed into his neck once more. "Don't come any closer!"
Connor's captor let out a soft hiss as it spun around too, coming shoulder-to-shoulder with its so-called sister as they both backed up into the growing sunlight. "You're not trying to distract us, are you?"
"No! No, I swear," Connor replied. "Logan, tell everyone to back off, you're making them nervous."
He responded with nothing but silence, the Viper's claws scratching against the front of his visor as it kept his head pinned back. Everyone slowed as the two of them backed out through the doors, the shattered shards of glass that littered the concrete below crunching under the snakes' tails as the chill of the northern winds sifted through the holes in his blood-stained jacket.
His captor took a deep breath as it turned and squinted in the light, its tongue darting in and out much faster. "Matriarch's blessings… we're out, we made it, sister."
"Not yet. We just have to pass over into the woods and we'll be free," the other replied, struggling to scan the treeline ahead with the sun in its eyes. "Stay on your guard, sister."
He peered back over his shoulder, squinting in the rays of the early morning sun as it highlighted every smudge, scratch, and blood-stain on the glass visor that bounded his vision. Peering forward once more, he waved his bloodied fingers up and down, hoping the Viper wasn't blocking the view.
"If you stop by the trucks, I'll show you where we keep our rations," Connor said, the two Vipers turning to watch the soldiers ahead as they ever so slowly crept forward. "You could… you could take my bag, maybe. Pack it all in there. Could help you on your journey to City 31."
He pointed across at the snake holding Connor close, wiggling his finger up and down.
"Thank you," it hissed. "...Connor, right? Believe me, you're nothing like the rest of your unit. You're… you're good. You're better than this."
A wry smile crept across Logan's face, his fingers twisting into the shape of a gun pointed at the Viper next to him, finger easing down on an imaginary trigger.
"I know… I shouldn't be here, this isn't me…"
And with that, he drew his final card, wrapping his fingers around the wooden handle of his folding knife tucked away in his back pocket as he slid the blade open with a smooth, satisfying shing.
He'd just have to hope Carter got the message.
"Maybe… maybe you can come with us… to City 31, I mean," Logan's captor spoke up as it turned to face Connor, its voice timid.
The conversation fell to a brief standstill; its words washing away on the chilling breeze that brushed over the abandoned parking lot.
"That… that sounds g—"
A sudden bang cracked the silence, the nearby crows taking flight from the pines as the sound carried out across the woods, breaking over the distant mountain range still plagued with the early-morning fog.
Blood splattered the side of his visor as the Viper across from him dropped like a sack of bricks, its hands pressed to its neck in a hopeless attempt to hold back the blood gushing from the bullet wound ripped clean through.
"Good effect on target," Carter's voice buzzed over the two-way.
Logan's captor turned, its slitted eyes wide and its maw frozen ever so slightly ajar.
"...Sister?"
Its grip loosened, and Logan seized the opportunity in an instant, slipping his hands free before sticking it in the side with as much force as his off-hand could muster, digging the blade between its scales and into the flesh beneath.
The Viper let out a harsh hiss as Logan found his footing, slipping the knife from its place as the Viper stumbled back, and digging it back in until it could go no further.
He struck with no real cohesion; some stabs digging in deep, the rest skimming across its scales and bouncing off its armour plates, splattering his hands with blood.
The Viper fell back onto the concrete, its hands held out in front as Logan came down on top, spinning the blade into a reverse grip before thrusting it down square into its abdomen, his bloodied hands slipping from the handle as the Viper clawed itself back in a desperate attempt to get free.
"Stand down! Stand down!" he yelled as his men spilled out from the building, filing out around him with their weapons trained on the Viper as it crawled along with a whimper, a yellow blood trail in its wake.
He stumbled back to his feet, his breath heavy as he wiped the blood from his visor with his one good hand.
"Fucking hurts, doesn't it?" he yelled, a fury in his voice that rang out into the nearby woods. He held his shredded wrist still wet with blood in the air, his hand shaking from the adrenaline coursing through his body. "You're gonna fucking pay, you hear me? You're gonna regret ever touching me."
He took a few steps back as he regained his bearings, peering down at his techie still pinned beneath the snake's body. He pressed his boot to its side, rolling it off him before lending an outstretched hand Connor's way.
"No... nononono..."
Connor wiped the blood running down his visor with the sleeve of his jacket before swatting Logan's hand away, crawling his way to the Viper's side and rolling it onto its back. The kid's trembling hands struggled to find their place, running from its arms to the gaping wound on its neck before finally settling on the back of his head, his breath shaking beneath his mask.
"You... you said you were letting them go."
"Christ, kiddo, that was meant to trick the snakes, not you," Logan chuckled as he grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him back up to his own two feet. "Just let it bleed. We've still got that other one to deal with. Might even let you get your hands dirty if you ask nicely."
Logan turned back towards the Viper still crawling across the parking lot, its claw pressed to the blade hilt-deep in its stomach. He tugged Connor along as he stepped out towards it, but the techie shook his grip, his eyes unmoving from the dying snake as its head rolled lifelessly to the side, its bloodstained hand falling limp to the concrete before its chest deflated for the final time.
The kid began to pace, ripping his gas mask from his head and running his hand through his sweat-drenched hair, his face caked with grime and his puffy, bloodshot eyes glossy with tears.
"What the fuck's gotten into you," Logan hissed, the wry smile on his face slowly fading with every second the kid's antics continued.
"Just…"
He turned back to face him, his words catching at the back of his throat as a few of Logan's men stepped up beside their leader, their hands on their rifles as they peered Connor's way.
Logan stood unmoving, staring him down from across the parking lot. "Just what, Connor."
"Just… just let her go… please."
His gas mask slipped from his hands, clanking to the concrete below as Logan let out an audible scoff, turning back to face the Viper behind him as it propped itself back against the front wheel of his truck, its hands applying pressure to the knife still dug into its guts.
"She's unarmed and injured. She's not a threat, Logan… n-none of these aliens were."
"It fucking cut me if you haven't already noticed," he replied as he turned back around, making a show of his wrist.
"You were going for the gun. She was only defending herself and you know it."
"Christ… you weren't lying back there in the building, weren't you? Telling them this whole mission was a mistake, that you don't even know what you're doing here."
"Logan ..."
"You offered them our food and water from the trucks . "
"That—"
"And then, after all that, you agreed to desert us to go on some wayward journey to that fabled City 31 with them."
Connor shifted on the spot, running his hand through his shaggy, unkempt hair as the few men next to Logan adjusted their grip on their rifles. "I can explain—"
"No need to explain anything," he replied, taking a few steps back. "You're a fucking alien sympathiser."
He snatched the shotgun from the hands of the man standing next to him as he turned and marched across the parking lot, his boots squelching under the yellow blood trail staining the cold concrete below.
"No, wait, Logan…"
The Viper shielded its face as he leveled the shotgun its way, the rapidly approaching footsteps from the techie behind him coming to an abrupt halt as the rest of his men grabbed hold, his frantic pleas falling on deaf ears.
The shotgun exploded, kicking back into his shoulder and plunging the world around him into nothing more than a droning ringing noise backed by Connor's muffled pleas. The Viper coiled over, its rasp screams joining the ambiance as it brought its hands to the shredded chunk of flesh and muscle torn from the middle of its tail.
He felt a hand grab him by the jacket as he lowered the shotgun, and Logan turned, shoving the kid back and cracking the stock of the gun across his face before he had the chance to recover. Connor hit the ground hard, twisting over onto his side as blood gushed between the fingers pressed to his nose.
"Know your fucking place, Connor," he hissed, slinging the shotgun back over his shoulder. "I'll be dealing with you when we get back."
His eyes fell back on the injured Viper, a short-lived scuffle taking place behind him as two of his men pinned the kid down before he had the chance to get himself back up.
"Don't you fucking touch her." His voice rang out across the parking lot and into the woods beyond, a few brief chuckles echoing between the men dotted about the lot.
"Her," Logan scoffed, waving a group of his men over as he stepped towards it. "How cute."
Fear struck its slitted eyes as he approached, yellow blood dripping from its maw and running down the front of its scratched up chest plate. Its rasp shrieks had since degraded into a long, discordant hiss, one hand resting around the knife in its stomach and the other clutched tight against its tail.
Connor's frantic pleas for mercy and empty threats had since fallen on deaf ears as he pressed a boot to its wounded tail, another rasp scream drowning out every other sound around him as the Viper clenched its claws and coiled the tip of its tail. He knelt down on one knee, his fingers brushing up against the handle of the knife still skewered in its front.
"Your… sister lying dead over there is going to be quite lucky. Its meat is going into our rations, and its hide is going to the traders. Quite a market out there for this stuff," he said, giving its scaled hide two brief pats. "You, on the other hand, not so much."
"Please… please, you don't have to do this…" it hissed between breaths, its voice shaking.
"You shredded my fucking wrist," he snarled, his hand wrapping around the handle of his knife. "Think I'll rip out one of those fangs as a keepsake for the damn scar this is going to leave. Might see about declawing those talons of yours too if you're still kicking afterwards."
"You're a fucking psychopath, Logan!" Connor called out from across the parking lot, specs of blood staining the concrete beneath his face. "You're all fucking psychopaths, each and every one of you!"
"Shut the hell up, Connor," he hissed, peering back at him from over his shoulder. "We're doing this world a favour by offing these monsters. They didn't show any mercy for the twenty years they've been killing our people, and they sure as hell didn't show me any mercy when they gunned my family down in the blink of an eye, so why the fuck should I now?"
"They're not monsters anymore, Logan. These aren't the same soldiers that killed your family," he pleaded, his voice cracking as the tears began to flow. "Look at her for Christ's sake—she's terrified, she doesn't want to fight. None of these aliens did. The war's over, and none of you can seem to be able to just fucking accept that."
Logan's glare didn't waiver, his fingers idly drumming against the handle of his knife as the Viper hissed pleas of mercy beneath its shaking breath. And with a few brief seconds of silence, Logan wrapped his fingers tight around the oak handle, reinvigorating Connor's panic-stricken pleas and awakening yet another reptilian scream from the Viper as he twisted the blade to the side.
"Hold it down," he said, sliding the knife free from its flesh in one clean tug.
The few men covering him made their move, diving in to take hold of whatever body part they could as the Viper made another futile attempt to thrash itself free, fatigue and pain overpowering its movements. It opened its maw, the poison spit it had mustered barely making it past its fangs before it broke down into a coughing fit.
"No, Logan, please! Leave her alone!"
He wiped the blade clean on the sleeve of his jacket as he rose to his feet, his stare unwavering from the Viper as it desperately tried to shake itself free. It bared its fangs with a hiss, its desperate jab at the soldier pinning its right arm cut short with a buttstroke to the side of the head. A soldier took control of its maw, another quickly jumping in to help as Logan stood serenely by, flicking the blade open and closed as he watched the struggle slow to a halt. "Hold its maw open."
"You fucking monster—" a boot to the side of his head cut Connor's insistent ramblings short, a few chuckles echoing between the men watching from the sidelines.
Two of his soldiers grabbed hold of its maw, pulling its jaw open and taking due care to avoid pricking their hands on its poisonous fangs as its desperate squirming slowed; the exhaustion and blood-loss finally catching up. He knelt down, saliva running down the length of his blade as he brushed the tip against the roof of its mouth.
"I warned you, snake."
The Viper clenched its eyes shut as he pressed its jaw open with the tip of his blade, a single drop of yellow blood running down to his fingers.
"Please… please, I don't want to die…" it hissed, its voice harsh and guttural. "Sister… sister, help me…"
"Should've thought about that before you decided to fucking slice me."
A blood-curdling shriek rang his ears as he dug the blade in, the men clutching its maw all pulling back in preparation as the fresh dose of pain reinvigorated its fight to break free.
The blade slipped from its spot, its wet, rope-like tongue shooting out from the depths of its gullet and yanking his arm back hard enough for him to briefly lose his balance. But Logan pulled back hard, its red eyes widening as he slipped the knife to his off-hand and brought the serrated edge down on its tongue, its head snapping back against the wheel of his truck as he sliced his bound wrist free with two jagged hacks.
He threw the severed end of its tongue aside, shaking the yellow blood from his hand before lunging back in, taking another dig at the bloodied fang still clinging to the roof of its mouth. It didn't take much longer before he was able to start peeling it from its roots, the Viper's futile writhing picking up as he dug his knife beneath its flesh and pried the fang free in one final slash.
Logan climbed to his feet, grabbing the blood-stained fang from the ground before holding it up in the air like some sort of trophy, wiping his brow clean as he basked in the cheers and laughs of his soldiers.
"You're a fucking monster, Logan," Connor called out from across the parking lot, dried blood caking his face and his cheeks glossy with tears. He peered back over his shoulder, the two of them locking eyes as he slowly and deliberately wiped the blade clean on the sleeve of his already grungy jacket.
He turned to the Viper coiled over behind him, his men's grip growing lax as the side of its head fell against the cold concrete, blood pooling down its hood and onto the ground below as a low, almost whimpering hiss escaped from under its shallow breath.
He had hoped it would still be kicking at least somewhat by this point. No fun in torturing a dead body.
Tucking the fang away into the breast pocket of his jacket, Logan returned his attention to the kid laying on the ground, motioning for the two men pinning him down to let him go. "Want to come say goodbye to your Viper friend, kid?"
For a moment, Connor didn't move, his eyes snapping from soldier to soldier before he reluctantly climbed to his feet, a few drops of blood trailing his sweat-drenched face as he slowly stumbled their way.
Logan took a step back as he staggered past, the Viper peering up to watch him as he dropped to his knees beside it.
"I'm sorry…" it hissed, every breath slow and deliberate. "My sister said no one was meant to get hurt..."
"I swear, I didn't know what I was walking into. They told me we'd be killing monsters…"
Logan flipped the pocketknife in his hands open, silently running his bloodied fingers down the length of the blade.
"I just want it to be over..." it hissed, watching with tired eyes as Connor hovered his hands from the stab wounds littering its torso to the chunk of flesh blown from its tail, his sombre silence speaking volumes.
The Viper made itself smaller as he stepped up behind Connor, the kid's body falling tense as he brought his bloodied hand to a rest on his shoulder.
"Logan, please..." Connor whispered as he drummed his fingers against his blade.
"One chance," he said, Connor's attention falling to Logan's hand as he flicked the blade open, motioning it his way. "One chance to prove what happened here was nothing but a lapse of judgement."
He stared at the knife in silence, his hands unmoving as he slowly brought his attention back to the Viper laid out on the ground, its chest rising and falling with its final breaths.
"Fuck you, Logan."
"Shame. I had hopes for you, kid. Really. I did," he replied; indifferent as he returned the knife to his side, turning it in his hands. "Maybe a year on kitchen duty will help you see these things for all they're good for."
He waved his men over as he pushed the kid aside, taking a step forward towards the Viper. Connor's eyes widened, his arm reaching out to stop him before two soldiers grabbed hold from behind, pulling him kicking and screaming back towards one of the trucks.
"No, Logan, wait, we… we can figure something out! Please!"
It peered up at him with pleading eyes as he raised the knife into the air, relishing in the monster's final moments.
Connor let out a scream that faded away into the nearby woods as he brought the knife down into its eye with a sickening crack, the fear on its face fading into a look of curiosity as the blade disappeared into thin air, his clenched fist swiping the air and sending the Viper leaning over him slithering back a notch.
"Whoah, heyheyhey, you're alright, you're alright," the stranger hissed, throwing its clawed hands out in front of it.
The light of the early dawn was gone, replaced with a gentle, red industrial glow from the fluorescent lights hanging overhead, an almost eerie cold plaguing the unfamiliar, ADVENT-themed room he found himself in.
He took a deep breath, running his fingers over his scarred wrist before narrowing his eyes at the Viper coiled in front of him.
Just a dream, Logan.
Just another fucking dream.
And by the looks of the equally confused cast of aliens staring him down, he just woke back up in a nightmare.