This Thing Called Life

Chapter 2 - "452"

Logan had dropped and rolled under the nearest car at the first sound of gunfire. He knew it was cowardly, but amongst a group of X5's he was the weakest. If they couldn't hold there own, how could he?

He watched, frozen, as he saw them fall, one by one. The squeal of tires drew his attention to the far side of the parking garage. Two dark vans pulled up just in front of him. The few injured were loaded inside one and the dead in the other. Logan strained to see the license plates from his position but it was a futile gesture.

The vehicles took off in a flurry and Logan crawled out of his hiding place. He was having trouble accepting what he had just seen. He had stood with a group of 9 transgenics in this very same spot just moments ago and now he was the only one standing. Life had a strange way of surprising you.

Logan started back toward the entrance to his apartment building when the quiet cries of a child reached his ears. Turning back to the scene of the crime, he made a visual sweep of the area but came up with nothing. Then, the sound came again. He dropped down on all fours and looked under the cars around him. There. Little Max was curled up in a ball, crying. Blood was pooling under her tiny body.

Logan scooped her up and checked for wounds. He saw the graze on her small chubby leg. The bullet had just missed making her a casualty and Logan knew if he didn't get her to a hospital soon that might just happen. He raced to his car and lowered the girl carefully inside. He sped off in the direction of Harbor Lights. Picking up the cell he kept on his dashboard, he called ahead to Dr. Shankar.
Meanwhile back at the compound…

Max took a quick look around before entering the building. She noted the arrival of the retrieval team and the various guards strewn about the area. It brought a smile to her face. Her backup was here and she knew they had her covered. Catching the eye of an extremely capable X5 known as Yula, she signalled for a team of four to accompany her. Within seconds, Yula and Beau, another wily X5, Mole, and Klip had joined her.

Giving the commands to follow and keep low, the five crept into the facility. Max counted the guards in the corridor ahead. Three seemed to be standard detail. Cocking her head she listened carefully, stripping away the noise until she could focus on voices alone. Coming from their left, she heard laughter. And in response, groaning, gasping and crying. Picking out Sketchy from the tangle of sounds, she grew rigid. She motioned in the direction she wanted to take and they made their way noiselessly down the hall.

They came to a junction about thirty feet ahead. The sounds grew louder. Stepping quietly, Max motioned to Mole and Klip to take the right flank, Yula and Beau to the left. The door in front of them was sturdy and Max knew that the element of surprise would be lost; they would have to kick the door in. Mole took initiative and butted it with all his strength, rolling with the force and coming to a crouch just inside the room. Bullets flew just over his head. Had he not had the presence of mind to drop, they would have been one man down already.

Max and the others rushed the room, guns blazing. She'd gotten over her fear of firearms long ago, with patient coaxing and unrelenting insistence from Alec and Original Cindy . Neither of her friends wanted her to die and they convinced her that being armed and ready at all times could save her life and that of others. So she capitulated. Max thanked the Blue Lady that she had. This was one situation that would have resulted in her meeting an untimely demise had she not been armed.

For the first time ever Max found herself commending Alec mentally. He'd been on her case for weeks, trying to convince her to pack what he considered the basic necessities for a mission. Rope, a length of wire, a gun, a knife, a lighter, grenades, mace, a transfusion kit, first aid kit and antiseptic. It made for slightly heavy packing but he was right; it was absolutely necessary and they'd made it standard issue for every individual that left Terminal City .

The guards had their weapons drawn and aimed at the transgenics that had invaded their space. Mole and Klip distracted them while she and the others assessed their situation. Yula crept to the side of the room where Cindy and Sketchy were secured to metal chairs. Cindy was out cold, Sketchy was the very image of broken, both body and mind. He was mumbling incoherently. They were both covered in cuts and bruises. Yula untied Sketchy and Beau carried him outside. They would deal with the guards down the hall later. As yet they hadn't seemed to hear the commotion.

Max saw Biggs hanging limply from a rope. His face was grey and his lifeless eyes stared blankly. She knew without needing to touch. Biggs was dead.

Cece was strapped to a metal gurney, her body exposed and thoroughly defiled. Bile threatened her, and Max covered her mouth in reflex. Fury suffused her entire being. This should not have happened to her friends. A routine heist gone FUBAR. The insanity of the situation, the condition of her friends, the pain, the nauseating scent of blood and stale urine, attacked her senses and ate at her like acid.

Alec. Where the hell is Alec!

Max could hear the sound of flesh on flesh, cracking bones, grunts and groans. She smelt fear and instinctively knew it was not coming from Mole, Klip or Yula. That gave her immense satisfaction. The guards were falling, one by one, and with every second her fury grew.

Max looked up. Strung up in a cage, suspended, was Alec. He was beaten beyond all recognition. There wasn't a single body part that wasn't covered in cuts, bruises or burns. A multitude of broken bones protruded from his shoulder down to the fingers of his right hand. Max had to shut her eyes against the sight.

Max had long ago learned that for her to press on in the face of unspeakable atrocities such as this, she would have to let her second half out of hiding. It was a frightening proposition. 452 had been buried years before and with good reason. She was primal. And once let loose, she was hard to reign in again. It would take tremendous willpower and strength of character, two things that Max found hard to hold on to when 452 was about. Her alter ego liked to take charge.

But Max knew she couldn't handle the current situation. She was too soft. And she needed the hardened soldier to make the hard decisions, fulfil the unforgivable actions. So she closed her eyes tightly and drew in a deep breath.

"Max?" she heard Mole call out to her faintly. She was drifting into the nether realms of her subconscious, into the darkness of her mind. She was too far in to turn back. "Max, what's going on? Why are you just standing there? GET HIM DOWN NOW!" Another burst of gunfire cut through her mind. Her eyes snapped open.

They gleamed with a malevolent light. Her face was tight, her lips white with the force of control. She turned at the sound of more guards entering the room. There were too many for the three transgenics to handle on their own.

Blurring across the room, 452 reached into her pocket, pulled out a length of wire and wrapped it around one of the sentries' necks. It sliced straight through the flesh leaving a gruesome, cavernous gash. Max couldn't shake the thought that he looked very much like a shark with gills. A dying shark.

Gutted like a fish.

She was deeply satisfied with her kill.

The man standing off to her right was petrified in fear. She had crossed the room faster than he could blink and ended the life of his friend with such ease, her evil grin sending shivers down his spine. He was frozen to the ground. His limbs would not accede to his mind's commands to run. He was powerless in the face of the woman beside him. The realization that he was going to die reduced him to a quivering mass of hysteria. He screamed.

452's blood pumped quickly through her veins. The surge of adrenaline was invigorating. The man's obvious terror was like a drug and she fed hungrily from the high it gave her. She leered with feral craving. The predator in her was alive and her thirst for blood acute.

She leapt at him, clawing at his face with her nails, attacking his neck with her teeth. She was savage and brutal as they fell to the floor. 452 straddled his body and eyes gleaming with a dark passion, she withdrew a knife from her boot. She placed the tip directly over the man's heart, watching as his eyes widened in panic and the understanding of what was about to take place. 452 raised the palm of her other hand and placed it gently on the handle. With a swift motion, she slammed down on the knife, driving the blade deep into the man's heart. He gasped and gurgled, as blood frothed from his mouth. 452 forcefully resisted the urge to taste the fruit of her kill. There were others to contend with.

She glanced across the room to see Mole in a headlock. One of the Familiars had an ironclad hold on him and he was struggling for breath. She took in the sight of Yula pinned beneath yet another as the Familiar pummelled her. Klip was fighting to pull him off. Knowing instinctively that Mole's safety took precedence, she rushed to his side. Yanking the Familiar off her friend, she gnashed her teeth and growled low in her throat. He stared at her, stilling suddenly as he came face to face with the animal that was 452. He'd finally met his match, his better, and the knowledge came too late.

452 launched herself at him. He tumbled to the ground but rolled to the side before she could pounce. This infuriated her. The prey had no right to run. The feral glint in her eye spoke volumes.

Mine.

She hadn't realized she'd voiced her possessive thought. The Familiar was visibly shaking, now standing on wobbly feet. 452 let out a maniacal laugh as she approached slowly. Without warning, she blurred around behind him and gripped his neck tightly. A length of rope had appeared in her other hand and she tied his wrists behind his back. She kicked the back of his leg, snapping it. This disabled her target and she went about preparing her finale.

Ripping at the material of her t-shirt, she tore a long strip. Placing it in her pocket, she went to assist Mole and Klip. They dragged the last remaining guard off of a battered and now unconscious Yula. Mole delivered a karate chop to the Familiar's head, knocking him out. Max dragged him to the other side of the room and placed him next to the other incapacitated guard. Mole threw her some more rope and she tied them securely together.

He advanced to Biggs' side and cut him down. Lowering his hand over the still face, he closed the X5's eyes for the last time.

She proceeded to release Cece from the gurney, covering her with a sheet she found on the underside. She lifted her gently and carried her to the door. Depositing her outside, she saw Beau coming towards her.

"Beau, Sketchy alright?" she asked rapidly. There was a great deal still to be done and she needed to hurry. 452 knew the threat was not yet completely neutralized.

He nodded. "Physically at least. Mentally, well, only time will tell." She shook her head briefly before pointing at Cece's still form. She was in a state of shock and her body had begun to shut down a while before. 452 hoped it wasn't too late to revive her.

"Get her outta here. I want Medical on this right away." He picked Cece up wordlessly and stalked off, his stance rigid. They all knew what had transpired and they ached for Cece. But there was no time to deal with emotions now.

"Mole, Klip, get Yula and Cindy out of here. I'll get Alec." The two nodded and carried out her orders in record time.

452 walked over to the side of the room where Cindy had been strapped down and reached for the power mechanism that controlled the cage holding Alec. She flicked the switch, lowering it slowly. Prying open the bars she gently removed Alec's broken and battered body from within. She was seething. He was so still and cold and his pulse fluttered wildly. The two animals left in the room would pay.

She carried Alec outside, bypassing a few scattered guards along the way with a single bullet to each of their foreheads. Cold and calculated, precise. Deadly accurate. 452 never missed a target.

Mole took Alec from her arms and said, "Okay Max, lets go. We've got everyone. Pile in!" he pointed to the vans parked outside, various transgenics standing guard, weapons drawn and ready.

452 looked at Mole and a shiver of fear raced through him. The eyes staring back at him were cold and hard. He was looking at a pure Manticore soldier. It was a look he'd never expected to see in Max's eyes. "Max?" he asked uncertainly.

"The designation's 452. And I've got a mission to fulfil. Get them to safety. I'll see you when I'm finished." She turned on her heel and walked purposefully back into the facility.


The others stared in shock, some in awe and others in fear. Max was unrecognizable in this state and they weren't sure how to process what they'd seen and heard. When Mole and Klip described her actions during the clash with the guards, they stood silent, mulling over the change in their fellow transgenic.

"I've never seen anything like it. For all that Max has been lacking in years of training, it's as if she'd never left Manticore in '09. She's fast, efficient, skilled, accurate and downright scary!" Klip finished recounting the encounter.

"The only way to describe 452, because that definitely was not Max, is to call her an animal. She's a natural killer. And a damn good one!" Mole added, his tone respectful, reverent even.

One van pulled out, removing the wounded and dead to safety.

The group that remained stood silent, waiting to see what it was 452 had planned. If it was anything like what they'd heard from Mole and Klip it would be enlightening to say the least.


452 re-entered the room and saw to her great satisfaction, that the two guards she'd left there had not attempted to move or call out for help. They were speechless with fear and that made her inanely happy. She was giddy at the prospect of her final action. The men who had tortured and killed her friends were going to pay a high price.

She had made a small stop on the way back. Finding a supply cabinet, she'd removed a few useful items. A janitor's caddy was filled to the brim with hazardous materials and flammable liquids. She began her trek throughout the building, spilling the liquid as she went. Making a trail she went from room to room, down every corridor, disabling the few guards she met along the way. She circled back to her starting point and doused the men. Pulling a grenade out of her back pocket, she quickly surveyed the room one last time. Settling on an exit route that would give her the time she needed to escape the inevitable; she stuffed the small coffer of devastation into one of the guards' mouths. Removing the strip of cloth she'd torn from her shirt earlier, she tied it securely over the grenade. Quickly, 452 extracted the pin. She blurred, jumped and crashed through the window as the explosion ripped the structure apart.

She sauntered over to the group who stood, mouths gaping, at the feat accomplished before them. They piled silently into the remaining vehicles. Turning to Luke in the driver's seat she said, "Let's move out."

They were the only words spoken on the ride back to TC.

TBC

Chapter 3