Chapter 21. "Confrontation."
The room was more extensive than Claire had expected. Coffin-sized tank tubes housed experiments in rectangle groups. The precision of the storage was impressive and unsettling for how eager someone was is to further expand unethical biological research.
Within those tubes, Claire and Nighthawk recognized humanoid shapes held within the tube's containment fluids. The moment Nighthawk glimpsed the sight, a great deal of nausea consumed him. The pilot removed his mask, and undigested water spewed out of his mouth, leaving him to cough and choke it out.
"Jesus..." Claire whispered, then patted his back.
The survivor could guess why. This is a grotesque sight to behold. What is the deal with those flawed humans? Who knows the terror Nighthawk and Hunk endured? Claire came to that conclusion.
Surprisingly the rest of the hall was devoid of anything, no desks or chairs, only monitors.
Right in the middle, there was something. Claire had to blink to make sure she perceived this creature correctly.
A Giant creature seemed to be made of light green tissue, stacks of muscles, and its stomach seemed wide enough to host a human inside it. There were signs of recent Horizontal stitches from its abdomen down to whatever organ was in there.
The creature was held down by metallic manacles around his shoulders, chest, and arms. The Giant's eyes were open, yellow snake-like iris, and it watched them both. Its cold stare was like piercing the soul of whoever gazed upon it.
The Giant had no hair, and its overall appearance was like a plant-muscle mass stitched together to form a humanoid Giant.
"What the hell is that," Claire murmured.
Nighthawk staggered forward, heaving a sigh. "So that's the Bioweapon I've been talking about. Shit. Look, it has James inside its body! Be careful in how we fight it."
Claire glanced at Nighthawk as he wiped his lips, then redirected her attention back. This Giant does not appear complete yet, since its lower half looked squashed in. That befuddled the two.
"Welcome..." A voice echoed through the hallway from a speaker, "To the first test of my new weapon. Don't be shy and fight with all of your might. It will show me what I need to improve."
Nighthawk felt the blood boil in his veins. It was the father of the year himself.
"Your twisted game ends here." The pilot screamed. The first time Claire ever heard him express anger. The jovial asshole whom Claire could imagine was always smiling under the breathing mask.
"We're too late, aren't we?" Claire whispered. "He is gone."
There was the metallic clanking as machinery adjusted as the platforming hold the B.O.W. shifted forward. Then, finally, the manacles loosened, and it tore its arms free from the retracting manacles. The movement and its weight that shook the floor was eerily familiar to Claire.
"No. We still have a chance... No more playing around! I will not let him get away with this!" Nighthawk's voice rose to a guttural scream.
In a blur, the pilot tore across the ground, bringing his guns up to try and pop the Giant eyes open.
Red energy splashed, and the Giant's arm slammed against his guns. Nighthawk looked at the Giant and smirked. Silently he vowed to tear its gut out.
"James is being used as a conduit for that Giant to function. We have to get him out!" Nighthawk said as he slid a fresh magazine into his weapon.
Claire nodded, then sprinted behind the Giant during the struggle. The survivor focused her aim at the Giant's head. Such monsters always need to be shot in the face; that conclusion came from experience. She used the machine gun Nighthawk had given her and hoped the bullets can breach through the skin and pierce the skull. Considering the amount of punishment these Tyrants require, it takes a lot of effort.
Claire retained the grouping of her gunfire from instinct, and she could see the Giant's head spouting blood.
"Rah!" Nighthawk shouted in anger and started shooting non-stop of the Giant's face, trying to avoid hitting its midsection, fully aware James is in there. The two were unsure what would happen; would James be afflicted with intense pain as well? The Giant adjusted his arms and swerved around, clashing again with the weapons, which immediately rendered Nighthawk's weapon unusable.
"Shit," Nighthawk grumbled.
Surprisingly the creature moved fluidly despite its size, and it was into natural strikes from here; its hand came down her way, and she felt like a truck slam against her abdomen. Claire was thrown eight feet away and slammed against a tube. The impact of her body left a slight crack in the glass. The impact caused her to cough blood.
"That's not nice." She whispered, her vision blurred for a moment. The gun flew from her hand.
Nighthawk enlisted an aggravating number of jabs from his hands in a flurry of blows, but the Giant growled and fenced the pilot off with one hand.
Mass muscles slammed against steel again, but Nighthawk, through a hard push, redirected the creature's arm off to the side slightly and hauled out with a front kick to the mass. But, again, it left little effect.
"Damn it," Nighthawk bellowed.
The creature's hand came down and pushed Nighthawk off. It knocked the wind out of him, throwing him to the ground like a rag doll. It felt like his mid-section had liquefied.
Claire came in and threw a grenade it's way.
A loud explosion echoed through the vast hall, causing them to cover their ears. A flash of light blinded their vision for a second.
"Shit..." Claire murmured.
Once the light vanished, the Giant looked stunned. A little ray of hope for their troubles. Nighthawk recovered, used a railing to propel himself upward, landing on the Giant shoulders. The pilot pointed his gun down and lit it up. Blood sprouted forth, creating a pool beneath it. Blood scattered on Nighthawk's uniform as his wrath consumed his mind. Let his body be pushed past its limits for his brother.
Claire leaned up and used the wall to support herself back on her feet. The Giant retaliated by shaking around, causing the pilot to jump off. When he landed, he whipped around, shooting for the eyes. Claire wiped the sweat from her forehead as a siren echoed along with red lights. Then she heard releasing steam kick upward near the tubes.
Several tubes opened, their clawed hands scrapping along with the metal. The moaning emanated from the steam as several darkened figures shambled through. These things directed themselves to the closest warm bodies, which were unfortunately were Claire and Nighthawk. Once one breached from the steam, it roared as its muscles violently contract.
Claire's weapon was on the ground; she jogged, slid, and grabbed it. From the weight, it still had ammunition ready to go.
One Inhuman snarled as it sprinted like with proper form toward her. Claire panicked fired by attempting to shoot it at the head, stomach, and ankle. The Inhuman ignored the damage, and by the time it the last bullet struck the ankle, it already closed the distance. It toppled over, but not before grabbing Claire's arm. Its grip was definitely tighter than a regular zombie. It started to hurt. Not wanting to risk getting a broken hand or wrist, the survivor retaliated by kicking it in the face and shooting its wrist until it let her go. As Claire nearly broke away from the Inhuman, it got a second wind then grabbed the wrist section of her jacket. This made things from bad to worse because Claire noticed two more test tubes and steam billowing from a distance. Recognizing the need to retreat instead of fighting. Claire rolled her hand and used her other hand to unzip her jacket. The Inhuman no longer grappling Claire, Claire was able to back step and reload her handgun. As the Inhuman roared, Claire kicked up the jacket then shot it in the face. Causing the back of the skull to burst bone shards and innards.
Not having enough time to put it back on, Claire tied her jacket at her waist.
Nighthawk bared his teeth like an angry Lion and ran into one of them, grabbed it by the throat, squeezing it with all of his might. Anger flared. None stop within him. The pilot grew sick of this madness. It has to end.
Another Inhuman leaped across the railing after Claire, screaming, hungry for her. Claire threw herself at the Inhuman, tackling the creature to the ground; her hand tightly wrapped around his throat, choking the life from him as hard as she could squeeze. With her other hand, she pointed the pistol at its temple and started shooting again and again. Blood spurted onto her cheek as she coldly stared.
The Giant started moving again.
"Claire, we need to open its stomach," Nighthawk said. "Can you distract it while I try to cut him?"
Claire wiped the blood from her cheek. "On it. Good luck." To hopefully reignite some confidence, she winked at him. The false bravado was usually enough to help Claire refocus on the task at hand.
Claire was not sure if they could survive this, but she is not going down without trying. She ran forward, making herself visible. She did her best to keep the weapon leveled as she focused down the creature.
The Giant potentially perceived her as the weaker target between the two. So it focused on her and started flailing its arms down. The ground vibrated with every step, almost making her lose her balance.
Claire jumped and rolled to the right and started shooting at the creature's eyes. But, unfortunately, the ground cratered due to the sheer force of the Giant. Claire needed to rebalance herself for the moment.
Nighthawk jumped at its belly and grabbed the stitches. They felt rough and slimy to the touch. Still, he pulled with all of his might. He could see Hunk's fingers looking dark through a slight opening.
Before he could do anymore, the Giant moved and threw him off. Nighthawk slammed to the ground and exhaled painfully.
Unlike earlier, Nighthawk kicked his legs to propel himself back on his feet with the endurance factor in overdrive. When he got up, one more Inhuman sprinted toward him. It grabbed Nighthawk and started to smash its head against the face gear. Disorientated, Nighthawk brought his left hand for a hook to the temple. It did not work immediately but rolled to the side. Now free from the head-bashing, Nighthawk, in a fury, gashed the Inhuman's eyes and twisted his thumbs. Once it roared at him, Nighthawk shoved the creature off of his body. Attempting to crawl forward, Nighthawk raised his leg then power kicked it dead center on the nose. Taking advantage of the space to breathe and he returned to his feet. Nighthawk approached then curb-stomped the Inhuman's head into paste, pushing himself further than he has before.
The Giant dived forward with its left arm, attempting to crush Claire like a bug, few bullets crashing through his knuckles and rendering his ferocity moot for a few seconds, her chance to skip death, at least for now. Holstering the gun, she grasped for another grenade and tried to aim it right at its open mouth.
"Eat this!" Claire shouted.
The small object flew over in a fast motion, bounce from its cheek, and landed on its palm.
The explosion again caused massive pain and ring to their ears. Nighthawk flinched and crossed his forearms to instinctively protect his face. Claire fell on her knees, holding her ears and crying. Deep down wished for death to claim her already. It's too much.
Once the light dimmed, the Giant was on its knees, stunned. Then, scowling, Nighthawk jumped on its belly again and started to open the stitches. Next, he took his combat knife and started to cut its flesh, hoping beyond hope he does not hurt Hunk in the process. Despite the ringing of her ears, Claire sprinted to assist, then unlatched her jacket then pulled it back over the Giant's face. Blindfolded, Claire grunted as it punched her several times. Blood dripped out of her nose and the corners of her lips. By now, she groaned to mirror the Nighthawk's dedication.
The Giant wheezed and growled unnerving sounds as its abdomen started to bleed all over Nighthawk.
The Giant flailed and threw Nighthawk off. Then, with the last remains of his energy, he kept his grip tight he tore its abdomen's muscles off.
A naked-covered in blood Hunk fell off its belly and slammed into the ground.
The Giant kept growling to the heavens like it was in a lot of pain and don't know what to do before finally falling on its back and remained still.
"Oh... god." Claire heaved and released her jacket from the Giant. "We are... alive." Taking a step forward, a sharp pain originated from her side. It could potentially be a fractured rib. She needs real medical attention after this.
Claire would have one hell of a story to tell her friend Annie. A trauma like no other, another close encounter of a bioweapon and what it is capable of. The survivor never imagined this could reach this level of mass destruction. Much less to see how it can continue to get worse.
'I can't believe this.' Claire pulled herself up, threw her jacket over her shoulder, and started walking toward the rescued mercenary brothers.
If Hunk was still alive after all of this. Nighthawk was in front of her, quickening his pace toward his ailing sibling. As a sister, she could see. Clearly, he was trembling a bit too much.
Nighthawk knelt down and gazed at him. Hunk looked like he was sleeping peacefully, unaware of what happened around him.
The question is, did they rescue him? Or were they too late?
With trembling hand, Nighthawk placed his fingers on Hunk's throat. A first, he felt nothing, and his heartbeat increased. 'no.' Nighthawk whispered.
But after another second, he felt a pulse. It was faint, but it is still there.
Nighthawk reclined back and sighed. "He's alive."
Claire touched her forehead and took a breath as she got closer and placed a hand on Nighthawk's shoulder. "Thank goodness, he gave us quite the scare, huh."
Nighthawk removed his mask and looked up at her. Under a broken nose and black eye, that happy-go-lucky attitude is back. "Look away, woman. You are not allowed to see it." He winked. "Not yet, at least."
Claire felt her cheeks flush, "I'm not looking. Shut up." She lightly patted his shoulder and turned her back on him.
The pilot turned around and grabbed onto Hunk's arm and brought them over his shoulders. The brother leaned down and shifted Hunk in a better position as he walked. His body ached all over. Overclocking his endurance factor, Nighthawk speculated that he would need to sleep for a week to recover. This will not be easy to take Hunk away to safety; Mike smiled as he glanced up at the survivor with his eyes to the ground.
'You sure know how to pick 'em.' Nighthawk chuckled to himself; however, it was painful.
Claire focused on their next destination, the control room at the end of the hall. Then, finally, it's time to face the cause of this misery. Claire stumbled in her stature, hand at her abdomen, and walked beside Nighthawk.
They walked their own pace, away from the Giant and the pool of blood around it. Up-ahead they could see stairs leading to a room with dark glass that overlooks the hall. The person responsible for all of this was right there, a deadbeat father who put Nighthawk, Claire, and Hunk through hell.
The two climbed the stairs as quietly as possible. Nighthawk placed Hunk gently and removed Hunk's outfit from his bag that he snatched from the room they discovered it in and clothed his brother. "Hang on, buddy. You are going to be okay."
Claire reloaded her gun and gave the nod to Nighthawk. Frowning at what he will need to do, the pilot clenched his fists.
The two stood in front of the door for a moment, prepared for the ambush. Nighthawk went in first and kicked the door open. The steel door slightly broke from its hinges. A man in a suit stood in front of the glass window, his hands folded behind his backs.
"It's over," Nighthawk growled in a low dangerous tone. "I'm going to kill you for this."
John tittered as he revolved to face him. "Oh Mikey, you finally grown a spine to meet me? A failure like you is not worth it."
Nighthawk felt his anger flair once more; he has been silent against this creep's crimes for far too long. It's time this ended, once and for all.
"Your reign is over... father."
John tried to move, but Claire came in forward with her gun aimed at his head. "Don't even think about it. What kind of monster are you?"
"I don't know you, nor do I remember you." John besmirched. Claire straightened her posture.
John smirked and chose to speak, lay it all out. "But, you know Mike, Judith knew about Umbrella." He paused for a moment. "Your Harlot of a mother cooperated with us until she unearthed the reality behind the super soldier project."
Mike's expression broke slightly at the mention of his mother. "What are you talking about?"
John continued. "You and James were born for this purpose, and Judith did not appreciate that fact, so she had to go." He pointed with his index finger at his son. "You two were meant to be my admirable bioweapons, flesh, and blood of John and his super genes. So a new evolution is at hand. But it turns out the Giant is still faulty."
Claire shook her head. "No, you are not a monster. You're just crazy like so many others." John noticed the moment of distraction and punched the gun off her hand.
Claire moaned as she felt a kick on her stomach. She held into his hand and followed it with a roundhouse kick. It wasn't strong enough but still made him stagger for a second. Nighthawk jumped on his back.
Angered, John secured the grip on Nighthawk's arms at his shoulder then jumped up then purposely crashed on the floor. Nighthawk, now that his endurance started to wither felt something pop in his back. Claire regained her focus then attempted to fire her gun while John rolled to his desk.
Claire hesitated to assist Nighthawk, but this could be their only chance to end John. So she walked to the side of the desk as John threw a shelf at her. Paperwork, pens, and other office supplies scattered as Claire fired her gun. It clipped John in pectoral as he charged at Claire. Taking the gun to the roof causing Claire to waste several bullets.
By then, John jabbed Claire in the throat. It was intense, and she loosened her grip as John punched her stomach then roundhouse kicked her head. It spun Claire around as she laid on the ground.
John smirked, but it quickly faded when Nighthawk stabbed him with a metal pen on the desk. Then, using his palm like a hammer, Nighthawk forced the pen into John's neck.
"Argh!" John grunted as he elbowed Nighthawk then launched his head back to force Nighthawk to stumble. Turning to face him, Nighthawk fruitless tried to punch in a dazed state. John pulled him close to make him lose balance to his knees. Then, from a position of power, John brought his knee up to break Nighthawk's arm.
"GGGGGGRAAAAAAAHHHHH." Nighthawk clutched at his arm. Then was kicked in the face. Not wishing to be flanked again, John walked to Claire.
Clutching at her throat, Claire meekly reached for her gun, but John kicked it away. Then by pulling her by her ponytail. John kicked her over to Nighthawk.
"Awww, the little heroes can't keep up?" John said ever so calmly.
Exhausted, the survivor and pilot could not communicate directly with each other. But they understood the situation. They cannot keep this up, and they're at their limit. Claire heard the crack of Nighthawk's arm, and he heard her have trouble breathing. The maniac carefully removed the pen from his body and noticed it missed a vital artery. John was still in a position to escape but is choosing to remain close as if to taunt the duo. They came all this way… to fail.
"I am not leaving this place while he's still alive…." Nighthawk took a deep breath.
"You're as stubborn as your brother," Claire mumbled. "Look, I am sick of maniacs trying to ruin the world."
"This isn't your fight. It never was. You can get out of here." Nighthawk stood upraised his non-broken arm's fist.
"It is now." Claire exhaled coldly.
The two charged forward as Claire slid to attempt to kick John while Nighthawk remained high. John deflected Nighthawk's punch and sidestepped Claire's kick. Unable to fully defend himself, Nighthawk had several jabs and a haymaker go his way. While Claire was kicked in the stomach. Before John could dish more harm toward Claire, Nighthawk charged in with his elbow raised then head-butted, John.
Claire saw the two of them crash into the wall. Nighthawk punched his stomach, then did an uppercut. John spat blood and shielded his body with his forearms. On the other side, Claire exhaled and sprinted forward.
"Move!" Claire shouted.
At the last second, Nighthawk shifted out the way. As Claire brought her feet up and crushed John's sternum dead center. The crack was evident as he slinked back into the wall. While Claire got back on her feet, Nighthawk took his opportunity to pin John down with his weight then used his unbroken arm to punch John over and over. Teeth were flying, blood painted the fist, and then Nighthawk noticed another pen on the ground. Taking it, the pilot rammed it deep into John's heart. Make sure to twist and turn it to inflict as much pain as possible. Once that made John cover in a torrent of his blood, Nighthawk stood up.
John's blooded body laid on the ground, unable to move much. "My investment..." He coughed. "My..."
His eyes rolled back, and thus, John moved no more. Nighthawk gazed at the corpse of his father, the source of years of shit life. He was unsure what to feel about this. Part of him was relieved, but... Nighthawk fell on his knees and felt hot tears slide down his cheeks.
"I... just killed him."
A sound of moaning interrupted the moment from the ailing sibling.
Claire limped out of the room and knelt down before Hunk. He was not fully conscious, she realized. More like trapped in a delirium, she put her fingers close to his mouth and felt his breath.
"He is okay. We need to get him help."
Nighthawk checked the office around him and spotted a jacket left on the chair. This could be useful for just a few minutes.
"Alright, Claire, listen to me carefully." He wiped his tears. "I want you to memorize this password: 'Coffee in the martini.' We need it for our destination. I have to watch over Hunk."
The pilot did not wait for her to answer him. Instead, he hurried toward Hunk and started to dress him, it won't save him much from the bitter cold outside, but there is no choice.
After a long cold stormy night, the daybreak brought glimmers of warmth. The golden light softly caressed the land and ignited the birds into a chorus of melodies.
Nighthawk and Claire were finally able to leave the facility through other means, avoid confrontation with anyone. A rigid plan, but they pulled it off, Claire explained it by perhaps her brother, and his team got the attention of everyone.
Claire felt her bones ache ever so slowly until her entire body felt like getting stung by a knife again and again.
Their destination was still far away from them; they had to go through a forest first.
For a moment, her life flashed before her eyes. Death seemed to be great welcome right about this moment. Unfortunately, the light of the sun did not bring much warmth.
Soon that light was short-lived, for clouds assembled again.
"Come on, Claire, keep going," Nighthawk called out to her, and he was way ahead of her, entering the forest.
Thank you for reading . . .special thanks to my beta reader, The95will.