1913 Hours
Manhattan, New York
Rundown Apartment Building
3rd Floor Suite
"I remember so much of our times together. The long walks through the park, being pushed on the swing, staying up late to catch Santa in the act, even though he never brought us any presents- the cheap bastard. I remember always having someone to look after me when I got in trouble. Whether it was from sickness or bullying Alex was always there, always my hero, always my big brother.
Now I have to stand on my own.
You'd think it'd be easy by now- taking care of myself I mean. We hadn't spoken for a few years after he got his job at Gentek and even when the virus started raging over the city he was still out of the house for hours on end. I had to spend most of my time alone monitoring the web for new info of his actions. Wondering what he was doing, if he'd be safe, hoping he'd come back. I don't know what I want now. The man I read about in the files I've stolen from government servers describe a murderer. A person who cares only for himself. A bio-weapon on two legs who hurts the innocent. It can't be true. That is not the person I grew up with. That is not my brother!
But... it is.
It was.
He told me- straight to my face- his plan. What he wanted to do to every last human on this earth. He fucking told me "This is no one's fault but your own". Want to know the most fucked up part of all of that? He is right! He was right.
It is my fault.
Because just like when we were kids, I would always fuck up somehow, get into big shit and have to have him save me. It hadn't changed at all- the protection- just his methods.
During the first outbreak, I was taken by a monster to Greene's main hive. I don't remember what happened to me in there, all I can recall is burning pain under my skin and waking up with Ragland. Oh God...Ragland. When I finally came to I didn't know where, or even really who I was. I was scared- confused. He tried to help me, to sedate me when I came up screaming and thrashing.
I killed him! Somehow, with my own hands...
I only realized what I did when Alex came in, used his superior strength to hold me down and inject me with the sedative Ragland made. It brought my consciousness back by suppressing the virus' conversion of my mind.
I don't think I'll ever understand what I am, what Heller is, what Alex was. But I know, deep down in my heart, his entire plan to infect the world was for me. The only way I could be safe from Blackwatch, the virus, from myself was if everyone else was like us. In a fucked up way, it makes sense, it does. But that it not what I wanted. That is not what I want!
I just wanted my older brother again! To hold me! To tell me everything would be alright! To help me deal with myself! Not this! Never this!"
Her hands hovered over the keyboard and her fingers quivered in air. Tears struggled to form on her bottom lids, but she held them back. When she lived alone it wasn't rare for her to get a good cry out, then continue on with her day. Her sobs would echo throughout the old, dusty rooms she resided in and no one would be around to make her feel weak for breaking down. Now she must do it discreetly in the darkened room across from Amaya's, lest she wakes the child and have to explain her sorrow.
Her typing continued.
"Amaya is sleep now. That's James Heller's daughter. The other day she saw me cut my hand while slicing an apple. I'm going to have to remember to wear a bandage for a while. I can't have her questioning why I don't have a scar. Like I said before, I have to be the older sibling now. I have to protect someone from the dangers of this fucked up world. I guess that means lying... a lot.
I don't know what I'm going to do. But I have to stay strong. I have to.
For her sake as well as my own."
She moved the mouse over to the save button and clicked. Just in time too, as the creaking of the bedroom door across from her signaled the awakening of Amaya. Dana frantically closed her laptop and stood up from her swivel chair to greet the groggy child.
"H-hey, Kiddo. How was the nap", Dana said.
"It was alright," Amaya replied with a knuckle digging out her eye-crust. "Did daddy come home?"
Dana bit her lip, trying to prevent herself from frowning. "No... he didn't."
"Oh..." Amaya said disappointedly.
It was quiet for more than a few uncomfortable seconds.
"Uhhhhh, ya' hungry? If you want you can have dinner as like a post-nap breakfast?"
The melancholy child nodded her head, but her eyes didn't leave the floor.
"Okay, let's go in the kitchen. I made chicken and peas. You like peas, right?"
"I don't like Greg," Amaya said, pushing her peas along her plate with a fork. "He pulls my hair, calls me names... he's just mean."
Dana set her plate of food on the table and pulled out her rickety chair. She found it rude to laugh in the young girl's face, but she couldn't hide her amusement.
"They usually do that if they like you. I had a dude like that when I was your age. I took so many dodgeballs to the head that year before it clicked that he was crushing hard," Dana said before scooping up a fork's worth of chicken.
"Yeah, but I don't like him," Amaya whispered under her breath with eyes low.
Dana held her fork on her lip and grinned widely. "I dunno kiddo, looks to me like you do."
The child dropped her fork and shook her head wildly. "No I don't, no I don't!" she exclaimed.
Dana giggled. "Mm-hmm, sure you don't. Wait 'til I tell your pops that you got a boyfriend!"
"No, don't do that! He said I can't date boys until I'm thirty!"
Dana almost spat out her food. The gut heavy chuckles were pouring out.
"Oh my God," she said, catching her breath "you two are hilarious."
Amaya shoveled in mouthfuls of peas and furrowed her brow. "I don't like Greg," she grumbled through her full cheeks.
"It's alright kiddo, I won't tell Muscles that you have a crush. But if you like him, you should let him know. Boys play rough and they don't know how to handle the fairer sex. If you play rough with him back, not only will it confuse him, but it'll also show him that you're fun."
"So I should pull his hair?"
"Maybe not that, but wrestling is easy. Or beat him at video games. That's what I did to get all of my boy-toys."
"Why are boys like that?"
"Girl, I have no idea. I'm more than three times your age and I still haven't figured them out completely. I guess they just naturally like competition. They want to be bigger and better than every other guy they meet. Must be a testosterone thing. But if a girl is around, can take care of herself and can even beat them at things, that is very likable. So in a way, he's testing you to see if you are fun and someone he should date. When it comes to why they need to do everything this way, I couldn't tell you a thing. They're from Mars."
"Yeah, they're weird."
Dana chugged down her glass of the powdered orange juice she made for their dinner.
"So how's school?" she asked followed by a burp.
"Nice one," Amaya replied, referencing Dana's rancid belch. "It's different. I am used to being in a big classroom, but I am still learning a lot. We just got into multiplication."
"Yeah, Mrs. Gleeson was a really good elementary school teacher before all of this craziness. I'm glad she decided to do a home-schooling thing. Me and your father were worried we wouldn't be able to keep you updated on your studies so we got lucky there."
"He worries a lot about me."
"Yeah, that's another thing guys do. They worry too much. But that's how love works." another fork full of food passed through Dana's lips.
"I worry about him too," Amaya said with a lower tone.
Dana raised an eyebrow.
"Why's that," she responded with a hand covering her mouth to keep particles from flying across the table.
"He's always out fighting."
"Oh, right," Dana's voice became low "but he fights for us. To protect us."
"I know," Maya said sipping on her glass of juice. "I just wish he didn't have to. I don't want him to get hurt."
The room became silent, for more than a few uncomfortable moments. Dana was biting her lip as she pondered her next choice of words. The young girl in front her was usually never this melancholy. But it clicked that she was only chipper when her dad was around.
"Uh," Dana began. "Do you like Superman?"
"Yes."
"Then think of it like that. You know your dad has powers, he's super strong, tough, can probably fly if he wanted to..." she said mimicking a bird with her hands.
"Uh-huh." Amaya agreed.
"...and he uses those powers to protect people, just like Superman. And nothing can hurt Superman."
Amaya jumped up in realization, "That's true! Well, except kryptonite."
"Yeah, but your dad isn't weak to kryptonite, plus it doesn't exist."
Amaya laughed, "He always says ribs are his kryptonite."
Dana snickered, "Well the bad guys don't know that so he'll be fine!"
"You're right- nothing can hurt daddy."
1613 Hours
California
Highway 101
Open Road
If it was anyone else there would have been nothing left but a gory stain on the road, but Heller took the hit fairly well. He was missing an arm and most of his face was caved in, but he endured as best as anyone like him could. The fight against the new Mercer was very strenuous, as he found the hooded viral abomination to be much tougher than he remembered. The strikes he landed barely phased him, his biological blades cut deeper and he could barely keep up with his agility. It's like the guy spent the few months inside of Heller training for a rematch. It was evident he was getting a sadistic satisfaction from their round two, by how meticulously he avoided killing blows. Like a cat playing with its kill, he spent a hefty chunk of the battle swatting, pushing and antagonizing the bald man who killed him.
As Heller struggled to stand with a new arm and face he felt something in him that he hasn't felt since his human days: weak. The battle took its toll on his biomass, as his new face and limb cost him the last of what he could move around to make on the fly repairs. If Alex Mercer tore into him again he'd have to fend him off until his virions split enough times to remake his wounds.
"Feeling empty," Mercer mocked with half-smile and his raised claws dripping of James' blood.
"He is done," Elizabeth Greene, Pariah's mother, spoke in a telepathic whisper-like voice reminiscent of her son's, while watching from the side of the road with the child in hand.
The orange sonar wave James' relied on to find hunting targets came back empty of anything living. Most disturbing of all was the three dangers in front didn't come up at all. He was in a tight spot with no exit. However he is not one to run from a fight. James, if anything, was stubborn.
"I'm not dying here," Heller snarled through heavy breaths. "I killed you once- I can do it again."
Mercer stood unfazed by his words.
"But I don't want to."
Heller raised a heavy arm towards Pariah.
"He did this to you. Wants to do it to me. I have your memories, motherfucker... you wouldn't want any of this. Think about your true self. Think about Dana," he reasoned.
Mercer's cheeky smile became a frown.
"Oh, I have thought of her. Thought about her during the entire planning of the new world. But it just dawned on me that she was the weak link that held me back."
"You don't mean that! It's just him making you-"
"Humans hold us back, Heller! They are frail and small and just cattle to us. They have greed and fear as their main drive for success. They kill each other to stay on top. We don't have to if we listen. We are better than them. We. Are. A. Family."
In that instant, he was jumping at Mercer. They locked hands and struggled to force each other off of their footing.
"Everyday that you live they will try to bring you down! Remember the day I gifted you with this strength?! They had you on a slab! You were a guinea pig to them!"
Heller pushed but only slid the taunting Alex a few feet back.
"They want to study you, to tear open your girl and experiment on her organs! They did it to Greene, they tried it on the boy, and they want to do it to her! Every day that you live, they will come for Amaya. You can end it all by either joining us or laying down to die."
As they looked eye to eye James couldn't help but feel a horrible truth in his words. A truth he tried to avoid. Blackwatch would not stop their march against Heller and by extension Amaya. Just by existing he puts her on the world's most wanted list, depriving her of a normal life. His confidence in his abilities to fight them off never lowered, but he can't deny the advancements they've made. The dreams he had of her going to college, marrying a caring man and mothering some grandchildren may now just be a fantasy he has to hold in his head forever.
But James is very stubborn. He'd go toe to toe with every member of Blackwatch and the mutant freaks they make all at once if it meant guarding his angel. He knows their tricks, their tactics, their drive. The virus on the other hand, was still not fully understood. Each scientist he consumed only had a portion of understanding and even the big man, Alex Mercer, barely understood how his own body worked when James had his experiences at hand. Each day that a biological threat like them lives is another unpredictable, genetic apocalypse waiting to happen- capable of evolving into a rolling storm of death and decay.
"I know for a fact you will hurt her too," James growled.
"But at least then her suffering will have a purpose!"
With a roar, Jame's latched onto Mercer's arms with his feeding tendrils from his forearms. They dug in deep to Mercer's bones and he pulled at the flesh as much as he could to feed. But to Heller's amazement no sustenance was coming to him and Alex stood grinning smugly.
"Now, I have that stubborn DNA too."
Greene cut into the tango with a hard palm to Heller's solar plexus that dislodged his tendrils, shattered his rib cage and sent him into the side of a hill with a rock cracking thump. His vision was blurred, lungs were filling with blood and his strength was practically all but gone. He tried fruitlessly to make a weapon, but his skin just molded into harmless vines that flicked at the dirt and dry grass on the hill at his back. He tried to move his legs, but James' muscles cramped up and gave out, as every recruitable virion that made up his being feverishly went to task trying to reset his sternum. This was it. He was unable to defend himself. Alex, taking it upon himself to be the executioner, walked towards him in slow ominous steps, taking in the image of the battered fighter.
"Playtime ends now," said the voices of Pariah.
Mercer nodded and came over the downed ex-Marine with his signature blade arm raised above his head.
"You disappoint me again, Heller."
Fire balls, explosions, and black smoke filled the battleground. A flurry of artillery shells rained down on the one-oh-one road like a maddening meteor shower. Across the way, slouched against his shattered APC with the bodies of his crew in the surrounding brush, was the bruised General Pratchett, clutching his radio that he used to call in the strike. Greene tumbled in the air clutching her son tightly to her bosom as they were lucky enough to be outside the blast of the first shells that made contact. The ground ripped apart underneath her feet as she ran over the hills as her and her offspring were not tough enough to survive a constant barrage. Alex and James were not so lucky, as they took full force of the first wave of bombs.
"Reposition artillery! Mother and Pariah heading Northbound!" Pratchett commanded into his radio.
"Roger that Throne. Moving to intercept," the dispatchers responded.
Back over on his side Pratchett surveyed the blackened highway for survivors. He couldn't observe much through the dust, smoke and flames, but he could tell that his men laid down damaging fire. In the craters and the burning bushes that littered the road were just charred remains of the two runners. He viewed a blackened blade-like appendage being seared to a crisp, a leg hanging from a nearby tree and smears of bioluminescent flesh in the hill where the two mutants were standing. The General wiped a hand down his face in stoic relief, then felt the sting of his broken nose, literally turned sideways and flat against his face.
"I need a clean up crew here. For my men and for samples," he called out. "And I need a damn evac."
He reached up to his broken ridge and gave a hardy jerk to the opposite side it was turned. The resounding crack and jolt of pain made the near eighty-year-old veteran grimace ever so slightly. Then came a snort and blood filled loogie being spat in the general direction of what remained of his enemies.
2050 Hours
Los Angeles, California
Emergency Base 01
War Room
"I want a full sweep of the surrounding barren land, eyes in the sky," Pratchett commanded to a small group of soldiers who stood near a corner. "We need all hands on deck here. Keep the military present in NY just in case there is a resurgence, but bring our boys to the West Coast. Set up our other EBs in the major cities and outposts in the smaller towns. Shut down all outgoing and incoming flights. Restrict air, sea and ground traffic to only our vehicles. If they don't have a star and double-u I want it grounded."
He couldn't catch a break. His nose had a scar going across it from being reset, his home base was gone and a walking plague was loose on the countryside. If he wasn't in the air conditioned war room, he might have broken something or someone in frustration. His hands laid flat on the video-table to support his weight as live feeds of search crews played under him. The chatter of radio calls melded together in a blurts of "All clear" and "Expanding radius". His loyal henchmen Deacon and Santos stood by his side with arms folded paying close attention to their briefing as everyone else around him scrambled to set out.
"We need to update our intel from New York. They aren't working together," Pratchett started. "He came for Pariah- attacked my caravan. When I regained consciousness I witnessed him fighting Mother and Zeus."
"That's insane," Deacon said.
Pratchett's hand touched the monitor built into the war room table and slid documents open on the touchscreen. It was unspoken that whatever Pratchett showed them next was classified. The files contained images of James Heller and Alex Mercer from various New York locations as well as long dossiers on their actions.
"Our intel told us Zeus created Heller, just like any other Evolved, but Heller was the one seen most often disrupting our operations while the others stayed hidden within our ranks. I believe he came alone and Zeus followed, or maybe they both came and had a disagreement, I don't really care. Our artillery sprayed them all over the highway, that's all I need."
Deacon scanned the files and squinted at phrases that caught his attention; Orion Project, Whitelight and Bloodtox.
"We have always presumed that Zeus killed Mother in the first outbreak, but I saw that freaky bitch standing right with him. What these things are capable of, I'm not fully sure, but what I do know is that we blew two of them away and need to find the others. The child must be brought to me unharmed. If the Mother can be contained, I want her as well. If not, I won't cry any fucking tears."
"Our halos are in the air scouring the hillsides and we have men footing it through the brush. Cleanup crews are scraping up what's left off the road. We will find them, sir," Deacon said with Santos grunting in agreement.
"Dismissed," Pratchett said.
His two favorites then saluted him and stomped out of the room. Fingers tapped onto the screen opening up a channel to another facility. Displayed on the table monitor was a cranky Dr. Myers yelling at his colleagues to move out of his way.
"Myers," Pratchett roared into the intercom.
The good doctor jumped in fright at the booming voice that came from all over.
"Yes, G-general," he said searching the room for the leader.
"What have you found," Pratchett said with anger laced words.
The doctor tossed files over his table and flipped through several notebooks.
"I-I-I-I have found that the samples your men brought in are from the original DX-1118c strain and the Evolved strain. I have, uhm, observed them under my microscope. They are a very fascinating bundle of cells, they-"
"Anything new?!"
Myers fumbled through another notebook nervously trying to appease the aggressive General.
"I've just started, sir. I can't perform miracles of a genetic nature in a few hours."
Pratchett grunted and moved his hand over to the end button.
"B-but sir, if I may say something about my work conditions-"
The call ended and Pratchett went back to listening to search feeds.
2215 Hours
California
Highway 101
Grassy Area Off Road
A cell phone with a cracked screen vibrates for its fourteenth time in a row. It has sat in the short grass for several hours, near the gloved hand of James Heller who has been too hesitant to answer it. He knew exactly who was on the other end of the call and hearing her voice at that moment would torment him. He doesn't have the words she wants to hear, nor can he give her anymore promises as she has most likely gotten to the point where she doesn't believe him anymore. Hell, he doesn't even know what to believe after today. It started out so straight forward then spiraled out of control so quickly. He was supposed to come in, tear shit up and walk out. Now he is the one torn up, left as little more and a head, half a torso and an arm. A few hours ago he was just a head laying in grass. The bombardment of heavy ordinances ripped him apart and sent him flying far and away from the battlefield. Without the aid of extra biomass the healing process would take longer than normal; maybe the rest of the night to get his legs back. But at least he was alive. He can't say the same for Alex. He saw the first bomb hit him square in the chest. While he soared through the air as just a head he got to witness another bomb collide with the rest of Alex's body. He knows they're tough, but these types of strikes are near impossible to defend against. Their mass will by spread all over and most defenses will be chewed through. He's lucky he even got away this banged up.
In his mind he feels a dissonance between the death of Mercer for the second time. He obviously wanted to get the dude out of his way to kill Pariah, but in a way this trip could've been seen as revenge for Pariah changing him. He is not fond of the man, not by a long shot and still blames him for a lot of the trouble his family has suffered, but he was a part of Heller for a long while. He has witnessed his hardships and seen the turmoil he's been through. Heller has done some equally fucked up things in his crusade of avenging his family, so pointing to Alex as the bad guy would be disingenuous. But he can't shake the feeling in his stomach- what's left of it- that Mercer could have fought harder to resist. Could have done something to overrule Pariah's command.
The phone rings for the fifteenth time.
"I don't think he's going to answer, Kiddo," Dana says to a teary eyed Amaya, who's sitting in her swivel chair wearing the computer headset.
"He has to..." she choked out.
"He's Superman, remember? He's fine."
"Yeah, but... I just want to hear his voice!"
Dana held off from touching the child. A hand on the shoulder nor even a hug would console this type of anxiety. She can't say she doesn't relate, though. When Alex was out for long stretches of time, she too wanted to call him and just here him say hello to reassure her that he was alive, no matter how powerful he seemed. There was always the little inkling of doubt that something could injure him.
Amaya began to sob heavily now. Tears and snot came down her face and it broke Dana's heart to see. She couldn't blame James for being away, it's his duty now to keep them safe. But he has always answered her calls. Something was up.
"I-I don't know what to say Amaya, just try and understand that your dad is trying to help us. To help the world. He loves you very, very much."
Her words had no effect. The crying little girl balled up her fists and held them to her forehead.
"Is he scared," she cried.
"What? What do you mean," Dana questioned.
"Is he scared of hurting me? Because of what he is?"
The look on Dana's face could only be described as terror. Amaya has begun blaming herself for her father not being home.
"W-what? No. It can't be that."
"Then what is it," Amaya screamed. "Why did my daddy leave?! I don't have my mom anymore! I need him!"
It was at this moment that Dana began to tear up. Seeing the young child tear herself apart was too much to bear. As they looked at each other with watery eyes, the didn't notice the computer screen turning white with a timer counting up. The deep voice of James Heller came through the PC speakers with a few coughs at first, then a timid, "Hello?".
"Daddy," Amaya said.
"Yeah. It's me, Maya."
She wiped her eyes and nose on her shirt sleeve.
"Daddy, I miss you," she said through dry sobs.
"Oh no. Were you crying? I am so, so sorry."
Dana cleaned her eyes and smiled lightly at the exchange.
"I just want you home. Please come home!"
"I will. I promise you I will. I just need a little more time. Please, understand."
"I'm trying to."
"You're a big girl. I know you can handle this. I believe in you. Do you believe in me...?"
"Yes."
"I love you, Maya."
"I love you too. Is Dana around?"
Maya took off the headset and passed it to Dana. She slipped it on and tried to sound as stable as possible.
"Hey Muscles."
"This is adult stuff, so-"
"I got ya."
She looked over at the spying Amaya, and all it took was eye contact for the child to understand that she needed to be elsewhere. Adult talk is not for her ears. She made her way into the kitchen so as to not overhear the conversation. Dana switched off the computers speakers so that the exchange could only be heard through the earpiece.
"Why was she still up? It is late over there."
"She had a mid-day nap. Nothing I can do about that. Plus it's the weekend. So, uh, what do you need big guy?"
"I'm gonna need a new phone for starters. This one is busted."
"Sounds like you've been fighting real fucking hard."
"You have no idea."
Dana's tone shifted, "That's true. I don't have an idea on what's going on."
"Look I-"
"Muscles. James. Come on man. I've been with you through much of this. I don't want to sound like a prying bitch, but... I think I deserve to know what you're doing."
"Dana you are not going to like this shit."
"Hey, I'm a big girl, too. I can handle it."
He sighed a long sigh and was silent for a few seconds. Then he came in with a steady tone, "Fine."
2301 Hours
California
Grassy Area
Mountain Summit
It started as a blob of reddish black goop; a state it has been in before thanks to another type of man-made bomb. The child has carried it with him since their escape until the coast was clear and the moment was right. Now under the darkness of night with no black suited squadrons coming for them, he can work. His mother put him down on his feet and he lays the clinging sludge onto the dirt. It only takes a poke for his command to take effect.
The blob pulsated awkwardly on two sides, then binds itself into an anatomical human heart shape. From the heart expands two lungs, which then sprout a whole circulatory system that creeps through the grass like searching vines. Bones mold themselves into place and the rebuilding body stands on its own. And the muscle and skin form so do the clothes it feels most comfortable with. Finally after a few seconds of reshaping itself, the blob stands as a man; Alex Mercer.
"That is never fun," he says.
"This will be," Pariah speaks.
Mercer looks out over the hill and sees the skyline and busy car lights below. A new city to purge, a new populace to command awaits them. He looks down and smiles to himself at what he sees. Huge, letters facing the city that spell out the name Hollywood.