Part 3 – Puppet Master and Burning Doll
"While he controls them, they belong to me. I am the center of the Hivemind, and I am the leader of all. When you do dare cross me, know that I will spare no mercy, to none of my children. Once you realize the true extent of my power, then you will not wonder what I say."
ooo
"The virus is spreading with worrying speed across the world. Its virulence is greater than experts originally predicted, confirmed reports of infection in three continents and seven countries. United Nations officials are already considering a world-wide quarantine against the deadly outbreak. Several known terrorists have been seen spreading the virus across the globe."
ooo
I ignored the grim announcer overhead, instead staring out the window at the calm country side. Maybe that was what I needed: peace and quiet. But not now. Now I needed to find something.
We had lifted off in a Delta Airlines jet headed for Houston, TX, only two hours ago, already the trip felt a waste of time. After all, I could still be working to undermine the Order, if not for the intense curiosity. It had killed the cat, they say, yet I wonder whether it is not just the cat it kills.
I felt very fortunate when the pilot announced all passengers are now required to wear seatbelts for descent.
The plane was steady as the world below grew larger with almost a magical style. I looked with wonder to the tiny houses crawling with ant cars. They were all strangely the same: the same red or black roofs, the same green surrounding them. I thought it was strange, until I looked farther away. Eerily like Los Angeles and New York, fires were in the distant downtown, yet somehow it was very controlled. The smoke obscured parts of the city, from which when it shifted red masses were revealed, then gone again in the blackness.
"You live around here?"
Surprised, I stammered a "no" and turned to see the man beside me raise an eyebrow. He looked relatively normal (which wasn't all that uncommon), with a baseball cap, a thick jacket and a pair of long khakis. I didn't comment on his choice of heavy clothing. New York was getting cold before we left. I stared at him, until he awkwardly coughed. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, I dunno," he mumbled, scratched his head. "I guess it's just the way you looked so happy when you were looking outside. I mean, it's not like every day you get to sit next to such a beautiful woman." His face burned a little.
I pleasantly smiled at his compliment. "You're not half bad yourself." He was a little on the scruffy side, but lean. I estimated his age at around twenty-five or older.
Of course, before then I'd never thought I could look happy. Everyday consisted of me frowning my way through life, through crowds, through just about everything. Life felt so empty, before, but not during, and after. What a painful way to live, to isolate myself from all, to kill and hide, to fight for life every other day.
"Robert, but my friends call me Bob," he introduced himself, extending a hand. It felt human when I shook it. I liked him already.
"Annalisa, but I prefer Anna."
He smiled, widely, showing two rows of perfect teeth. "Nice to meet you, Anna."
I only lightly smiled. "Likewise."
I went back to staring outside. The skies felt a lot darker near the ground, not like the heavenly angels in the clouds high above the atmosphere. Shadows were everywhere, their whispers urgent and scared. Cars skittered quickly, even the shortest trips too long on the road. The entire city was a bubble, just waiting for the needle to pop.
"So what brings you to Houston?" Again, I felt a flick of surprise.
"Oh, nothing much," I said with an air of indifference, "just visiting an old friend."
He didn't say anything after that.
I felt a tiny tremor as the plane touched the ground. Oddly enough, I felt safer. I checked myself for mental disorders, but then decided it would be a pointless exercise as I have already decided I am crazy. The grinding of wheels on the ground was an irritable sound, but the bumps on the road made up for the strange discomfort. I sneaked a peek at Bob beside me; he was chatting with another man across the aisle. I decided he was simply a man to like.
"Attention, all passengers. Infection cases are present in the city. Hazard zones include the downtown area and the Harris county. You are recommended to stay away from those areas until the issue of the virus is solved." The intercom grunted as the pilot disconnected.
"Seems like this virus is going around," said Bob to the dark-shirted man, who was nodding with furrowed eyebrows in response. The dark-shirted man thought he caught me looking at him, but instead he found I was looking outside again. They resumed their casual conversation.
I was one of the last ones to exit the plane.
As the people slowly filed out of the crowded cabins, I carefully scanned through them. None of them carried the infection, which came as a relief. It would be quite annoying to deal with another evolved in a public airport, especially when I was planning to keep the disguise, at least for another while. A few glanced at me warily, though none said a word. One nodded at my politeness to let him go first, but otherwise all others were stoic in their movements, just like the zombies which ran rampant on the streets.
I had no luggage, to which the flight attendant raised an eyebrow, but said nothing to bring it to my attention. As I pocketed my hands and strode through the airport, I felt oddly out of place. This was a place of business and travel, which didn't include me.
The bar I took a seat at was very nice and clean. The bartender accepted my lousy tip of two dollars and brought me a drink. Meanwhile I stared at the TV, where another grim reporter was standing in front of what looked like the New York skyline.
"The situation is worsening," she said, ominously. "The outbreak is even more devastating than last time, where approximately 2 million people succumbed to the virus. The current death count is un–" she turned at a woman screaming and pointing at the city. The camera shifted to the tall blocks of buildings, and captured the dirty outline of the goliath. It was missing an arm, which testified to the military's potential, yet it was still smashing through tanks as though they were toys.
A glass slide to me. "Here you go," said the bartender dully, as though he couldn't believe all that drama on the TV. It certainly looked funny, now that I scrutinized at it, as though the footage was staged rather than live, as proclaimed in the corner of the program. While I clutched a shot of alcohol I would never get to drink, someone bumped into me.
"Hey–"
"Sorry!" said the offender immediately. I turned my head, annoyed, expecting a clumsy child too young to belong in a bar, but somehow found someone familiar.
"Bob?"
"Oh hey, Anna." Again he scratched his head, although this time nervously. "Crazy meeting you here. I was just chatting with my friend," he gestured to the dark-shirted man, "about you!"
"You were talking behind my back?"
"Oh no!" he exclaimed, horrified that I had gotten the wrong impression. "Nothing like that! I was just remembering how nice you were and gave your peanuts to me."
"I'm allergic," I shrugged. An easy lie.
"That's horrible!" He threw his hands in the air. "I can't live without peanuts! If I don't get my daily dose of peanut butter and jelly, I think I'll go crazy!" The dark-shirted man snickered at him and gave him a pat on the back.
"Been there, done that," I whispered.
"Huh? Sorry I couldn't hear you."
I waved him away. "Nothing to worry about. I was just talking to myself." I gave them both a look over. Bob seemed to have magically grown in size. Maybe it was because of how cramped the airplane was. "Say, what are you two doing here?"
"Oh, uh, we're just passing by, actually," said the dark-shirted man lamely. He was fairly handsome.
"Well, in that case, I think I'd better go, too. I need to find my friend's address, which I seemed to have misplaced." I patted my pockets, which were, of course, empty, save for a wallet I snagged off of someone.
I stood, and once against shook hands with Bob, and the dark-shirted man, who didn't offer a name, though he called me by mine. When we separated, I felt a pang of jealousy. How easy was it for them to live a life of obliviousness.
ooo
"Infection rates in London has hit a dangerous 0.4%. International disease controls are attempting to combat the deformed creatures created by the virus, to little success. However, despite the strange mutations, the geological spread of the virus is slow, but steady. Infection is expected to reach middle Europe by the end of the year.
"In other news, United Nations is working on a cure for the deadly virus. Bloodtox, a powerful biological weapon, has been legalized for military uses in seventeen countries."
ooo
The streets as I stepped outside were heavy with the omen of death and ruin. The oppressing clouds above only added to the dark mood. People strode with their heads bowed and breaths hushed, masks on their faces and hoods over their heads. Cars threw up from the roads clouds of dusts, which settled again to create a world of ash.
I chose a random direction to walk, for I had no map, nor memories of the city. Ignoring the crowds which I bumped into, I scanned the high city and the trash bottoms. Everything about the streets were dirty: the people, the garbage which held tightly onto the concrete like sand dollars on a beach, the carcinogenic smoke thrown by the cigarettes, the tearing smell of the slums. Here aesthetics were few and far in between, only a bright yet pitiful daisy within the piles of dung. Here the mood was grim, and the spirit of the city dead in its sleep.
Finally, realizing I would get nowhere by strolling around, I turned sharply into a back alley. The stench hit me like a solid wave, until I was forced to close my olfactory pores.
A man was flipping through a large bin, presumably for trash, as when I neared the chemicals in the air turned outright nasty. He looked up at my arrival, confusion, then fear, in his eyes.
"What do you want?"
I frowned, stepping forward until he began to back away. With a hand up as though to keep me at bay, there was something childish about his movements.
"Stay away! I don't have money!"
"I don't need money."
And then he tried to run. Foolish man. Reshaping my body structure, I was able to spare enough mass to elongate my entire right arm into a trench of twisted tentacles, which latched onto the back of his shoe until he planted his face into the ground.
"Help–!"
My shoulder erupted forward in another appendage. It circled around the man's neck and squeezed, cutting off his air and his breath. His eyes bulged. It was fascinating to watch.
His memories came only in pieces, the rest lost somewhere along the way. Still, I was not deterred. A general map of the city had drawn itself in my head, the approximate location of the downtown area, the busiest streets, the best restaurants. I also inherited a shivering fear in the man's final moments, which I squished and buried it where it would not bother me.
I stood in the alleyway, licking the last memories off of my fingers.
"Hey." The voice was familiar.
I found Bob, and once again his buddy the dark-shirted man. They stood in the mouth of the alley, looking in. From the darkness inside their faces were shadowed.
"Hi," I replied, cautious. This would only be bloodless in an extreme coincidence. That case was dwindling as the dark-shirted man took a step forward, his shadowy face grinning.
"Fancy seeing you here. Whatcha up to?" I didn't reply, and that only encourage the dark-shirted man to take another step forward.
In the dim light I must have looked pathetic, a painfully thin body wrapped like a once-white hoodie. I was slightly hunching over, as that was the form my human was most used to, but the garbage man was rather disgusting, and contained within him chemicals of a distasteful origin. I was still currently doing a cleanup of my systems, which had forced me to crunch up my abdomen regions in discomfort.
"Patrick," said Bob, warningly. The dark-shirted man didn't listen, his eyes now gleaming. Bob was looking behind him, where a small couple had stopped and stared into the alley in curiosity and shock.
I didn't move, and he chose that as a sign to advance more. "Come here, girl."
I didn't like his tone, so I stared angrily at him. He seemed amused by that.
"What, you mad? Scared? You know, I like women who can stand up for themselves."
I had nothing to say to his character, and felt nothing for him, not anger, not pity, nor disgust. When his hands reached greedily for me, I latched myself to him.
"Hey! What–?!" And I poured stomach acid onto him, only for the sake of the fun. His reaction was hilarious, from first surprise to confusion to horror to pain and back again. He tried to pull away, but already parts of me glued myself to him, suckers with teeth chewed through skin and drained away blood. When he turned white, sharp harpoons pierced his skin and melted him down to the basic chemical makeup, which were absorbed into me.
In the span of five seconds, Bob's face paled, as did the couple's outside. He tried to make a run, but a coil that snaked along the ground grabbed his foot. When he tripped, he was dragged in, into the deeper and darker alley, where I retreated into. Someone screamed, though it sure wasn't Bob, who was hyperventilating.
"Please, no! No! I didn't mean it! No please! It was all Patrick's idea! Please! I beg you!" It had indeed been Patrick's idea, but no matter the original thought, he did nothing to stop it, though he had wisely restrained himself from the repulsive actions of his friend. "Please," he cried, "I didn't want to follow you!" And so I was merciful, killing him with quickly, by tearing his nervous systems from his neck. After he was blind and numb and deaf, a dead man, I digested him slowly, letting no information loose through the net. He tasted funny, like an allergic man who had eaten too many peanuts.
When I looked again, the couple was gone, but their terror had been enough to savor upon. From the sirens in the distance, the police were on their way. With no intention of meeting them, I climbed up, claws digging into the brick. Now I heard the new voices screaming in my head. I saw the tide of insanity, called forth upon by the noise. Falling into it would not accomplish my mission, so I didn't, instead shutting away the voices to their prisons buried deep in nowhere. The tide receded again.
High in the air and out of sight's reach, the city here was no different from New York, with the exception that there was no ocean in the distance, just a city on a vast land of desert and forest. From fires rose the gloom far away.
It became more difficult to traverse via rooftops as more and more helicopters appeared, forcing me to hide by the walls and fingertips. In the end I dropped to the ground and continued my way on foot. I had considered taking a car, but from the looks of the traffic, it might be easier and quicker to walk.
I saw several patrolling soldiers. They marched haughtily past me. I strode haughtily past them.
Quite suddenly the flow of people dwindled to almost nothing. The streets were empty as no cars dared to venture this area, nor most pedestrians. A few quickly shuffled one from place to the next, not looking up. A cool breeze blew up torn pieces of newspaper and plastic bags in a torrent of garbage. The air smelled of death.
This was the land of the infected. I could feel them here, somewhere just in the periphery of my mind. They were wary of the new prey, which so confidently walked through their territory, though few were afraid. The less intelligent consisted of more garbles than any tangible thought. They were being shot down by automatic weapons.
"Hey, you!" A soldier was striding towards me, an arm out to shoo me as though a wild animal. "This is a no civilian zone!" His squad were already scanning the surrounding areas. "Get out of here!"
I didn't move.
There were only six of them, pitiful. Should anything bigger than a brawler attack them, they were meat. However, they were definitely well trained, from the way they not only checked corners, but also rooftops and a manhole in the ground.
"Didn't you hear what I said?" He was close now, and his teammates were beginning to take an interest. Another wondered closer, a gun unconsciously pointing in my direction. When the soldier's arm tried to grab my own, I attacked.
The first man died with a hole through his chest, the second severed in half. There were no screams, only the splattering of flesh and bone against a hardened biomass. The other four were turning, as though in thick syrup. I leaped high into the air. "What was that?!" They opened fire, though they were too slow. I landed heavily amidst them, cracking the asphalt with the power of a god. They were so soft that the impact knocked them off of their feet. A stray bullet hit my shoulder. More annoyed than pained, I extended out myself, grabbing onto all four of them at once and heaved. I acquired four more souls.
The base was not far. I could reach it fairly quickly. The only obstacle that stood between me and it was the downtown, which loomed high in the air. I took off at a sprint, the peaceful debris whipped away by my passing.
ooo
The downtown was hell on earth.
Masses of the mindless wondered from one place to the next, looking for meals to fuel their dead bodies. After brutally jamming one's head in its own torso, I was forced to take to higher ground to actually make progress. Large bulbs of red stuck to buildings, crimson webs extending from their surfaces, pulling a network of virus in the upper layers. At a few points the viral mass was so big it towered from the ground to the rooftops in one humongous piece. Fires burned in glee, to throw up more smoke and obscure the vision to less than three hundred feet at the rooftops. Tanks rolled below, escorted by marine squads. Explosives fired into the zombies, shredding their useless bodies to chunks of flesh which stuck themselves to any surface they came into contact with. No one had the time to notice me, not when bigger threats lurked just around the corner, quite literally. I swung around a building and came face to face with a brawler, which roared at me, and I quickly took off by leaping to an opposite building. However, it didn't attack, only joining its pack to taking apart more military. It was a strange realization.
The virus does not attack itself for blood or fun. The only internal conflicts it has are purely political or religious, as with my case against the archbishop, or the archbishop against the creator. However, in a land with plenty of fresh prey and loud machines, the brawlers held no hostility against me, in turn nor me them. I suppose that was why I had swung through the entire downtown without so much as a scratch, even while I met some of the most dangerous specimen.
On the intersection of a highway I saw an enormous creature swiping away at a legion of armor with too many appendages. It would be almost like a goliath, however it was simply too big. I almost feared from where all that mass had come from, but you don't have to worry about it; there weren't enough people in the city. Its sheer size was overwhelming, easily as tall as a skyscraper, and fat, too, though not full of fat. It was just big, bigger than it had any right to be. A tentacle the size of the Mississippi swung down and smashed flat the entire chunk of the highway, and another wildly danced and brought down an entire building. I made a mile-long detour around the situation, which I'm sure the military had under wraps.
Just past the monster I ran face to face with a brute. Towering a solid ten feet over me, it regarded me with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. I got out of its way before it decided it wanted to try a piece of me. I glanced back to see it pounding away at a squad with a pair of blades in unnatural speed and strength. Each blow dented metal, each stride too fast for eye to follow.
High above me were birds that glowed from their wings and were the size of rhinos. They swarmed in flocks, maintaining an aerial battle against the helicopters. The skies were a swirl of orange and bright flashes.
Yet despite all the horrors of the mutations brought upon by the virus, there was beauty in the hell, from the tall masses that rose hundreds of feet into the air, from the maws of the creatures that easily pounced from building to building, their sharp claws digging into the stone and their roars a battle cry. I saw a strange art in the terrible hive, in the way the machines exploded, in the way that blood spilled. Beyond this haven was the true hell. I dropped to the ground, the impact blowing away cars. In front of me was the iron gates of the base, its size in itself almost a city.
Behind me the virus tensed. Ahead guns whirled.
A/N
I noticed that my progress is slowing down, and since I was at a good stopping point, I'm posting this chapter prematurely and putting the rest of the chapter into the next chapter.
Thank you for your reviews, ZeroAccpetion and Sano Hibini. To the rest of you anonymous readers, I would like some feedback as to how I'm doing (post sooner? make chapters longer/shorter?) and what you would like to see in the future. Again, I emphasize that the story is a bare skeleton right now. As long as the suggestion is not outrageous (completely changing the story), I can probably implement it somewhere in the story.
I've given y'all a small teaser of what the true face of the infected look like (hint: it's NOTHING like the games). Goliaths are no longer the biggest things around and Prototypes are no longer the most powerful infected. But if you think this is brutal, wait until you see what Alex Mercer turns into.