The first rays of dawn gently brushed against my face. I woke up with a grimace, spitting out sand. Sand. Damn stuff was everywhere. Stuck in my boots, coating my pillow, the itchy vermin in every nook and cranny of my cell. The distant thud of footsteps grew closer, and Buzz Cut's arrogant grin came into view. He slammed down a tray on the gritty floor. Breakfast was served. A pitiful offering of sustenance in the form of a grayish slab and a lukewarm beverage.
"Enjoy your meal, Subject," he sneered, his eyes daring me to defy him. I met his gaze with an unflinching stare. Just you wait.
I chewed on the flavorless muck, the sounds of the compound buzzing around me. The clinking of weapons, and the distant chatter of soldiers. But the sorry excuse for breakfast was the least of my worries. It was only a matter of time before General Jerkface took his prized Subject out to play some more.
I had a split-second window between one command and the next. Complete one task, tear off this damned collar. Break Grodd's grip. Escape. It was a dicey move, but it was my shot at breaking free from this nightmare.
The desert sun scorched the sand and hours melted away like wax. Just when I thought the solitude might swallow me whole, Buzz Cut's looming shadow darkened the cell once more. Beside him stood the Southern soldier, remote control gripped tightly in his hand. Completing the trio was a burly guy with a scar etched into his cheek, looking like he'd seen one desert storm too many.
"On your feet, Subject." The Southern guy barked. My lack of response earned me a not-so-gentle yank from Scarface. Buzz Cut added his two cents with a forceful shove from behind. I stumbled over my own feet, my boots sinking into the loose desert sand.
As I regained my balance, Buzz Cut slapped a helmet onto my head, complete with a black lens perched on top. These folks were clearly after a front-row seat for whatever circus act I was about to perform. Without a word, they led me away from the barren cell.
We reached a military truck, impatiently rumbling, its windows caked with a generous serving of desert grit. The soldiers made it clear they wanted me in the back. They piled in behind me, forming an imposing wall of beige uniforms.
We rolled up to a rebel stronghold. It stood tall, fortified with walls of sun-baked clay and guarded by thorny acacia trees. We parked behind a curtain of thick foliage. The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances. Buzz Cut's trademark swagger gave way to a nervous fidgeting. Southern guy turned to me. "Keep your head down, kid," he drawled in his thick accent. "This ain't a walk in the park."
Inside the fortress, the firm cadence of footsteps resonated through the narrow corridors. We moved as a unit, soldiers strategically positioned around me, my helmet's camera capturing every step. The General's voice was like a relentless mosquito in my brain, buzzing with orders and annoyances.
"Alright, girls, let's get this done," one of the soldiers prodded, and we pressed onward.
"Move it." Buzz Cut grumbled as he tried to shove me forward. I didn't budge, jaw clenched tight.
"Keep the formation, Subject," Lane chimed in, probably saving Buzz Cut from discovering firsthand what it's like when the leash isn't pulled tight.
We ventured deeper into the stronghold. "Behind that door, two of 'em," one of the soldiers breathed, glancing up from his thermal scanner. Like we needed that. Not like I'd ever tell Lane that I could do a better job of peeking through walls.
The General's voice rang in my head. "Unlock the door. Neutralize the targets. And for the love of all that's holy, stay stealthy."
I complied, my fingers reluctantly finding the lock's cold metal. The wood of the door protested as I dug into it, giving way with a groan, splinters yielding to my touch. I shoved the wooden door aside, its heavy frame bending and cracking like a brittle shell.
Then, it was all swift motion. The guys on the other side barely had time to blink. My eyes ignited with heat, and their guns were molten before they knew it. Barrels drooped like flowers denied water. With a flick of my hand I sent the first man careening into a metal cabinet. He crashed with a thunderous CLANG, papers and documents falling all over him.
"Stealthy, Subject!"
The second man swung his damaged weapon at me, fear glittering in his eyes. I didn't bother dodging, I lunged, wrapping my arms around him in a vice-like bearhug. NO! My insides screamed as his body writhed in my grasp. Bones protested with stomach-turning cracks, his weapon falling to the ground with a clatter.
Horror gripped my gut, the fractures echoing in my ears. Not this. Not again. As his scream clawed its way up his throat, my fingers tapped against his temple. His voice choked off. He collapsed to the floor, his body still.
"Formation step 2." Lane's command crackled in our earpieces. "Move along, Subject."
This couldn't go on. I had to act, and act fast. The group split into pairs, the other soldiers taking the left while I found myself in a reluctant partnership with Buzz Cut.
The tension between us crackled like static as we navigated the shadows together. My eyes darted to the remote hanging carelessly from his belt.
"So, Buzz Cut," I started, "mind telling me what the grand plan is here?"
He shot me a glare that could curdle milk. "It's Spec. Reynolds to you, moron. Stick to orders, and keep your yap shut."
With a theatrical roll of my eyes, I feigned compliance. "Of course, my bad. But, you know, if I'm gonna play my part, a hint or two might be nice." I pressed, trying to keep the defiance out of my voice.
"What's it to you?" He grunted, clearly not thrilled with my poking.
"Just trying to be a team player," I replied, throwing in a layer of nonchalance. Side by side, we continued our sweep of the building.
"Come on, fill me in." I pushed, "what's the real target? They kind of left me out of the loop on this one."
He glanced at me, his annoyance palpable. "We're hunting a rat with psychic tricks," he snapped back. "Rebel leader, metahuman freak. He's got telekinesis or some crap like that. Wiped out half my squad before we got a lead on him."
I raised an eyebrow. "Wow, your very own boogeyman, huh?"
He let out a noncommittal grunt and barked at me to check the next room. Yeah, like I'd take orders from him.
"You heard the Specialist, Subject. Comply." Lane's voice cut in, reminding me I was on a leash.
Sighing, I used my own redundant thermal scanner to sweep the room for threats. "Clear," I reported flatly.
Task complete, it was time to strike. Before Lane's next order, I snatched the remote from Buzz Cut's belt in a blur. It crunched satisfyingly in my grip, shattering into a mess of jagged plastic and metal. No zap, no pain. Perfect.
The look of shock on his face was priceless, but I had no time to savor it. In a second, I rammed my helmet against the wall, destroying the camera lens and part of the wall in a burst of glass and plaster.
My focus snapped back to Buzz Cut. I grabbed his face, fingers digging into his flesh. With my left hand, I snagged the barrel of his gun, pointing squarely at my collar.
"Here's the deal," I rushed out, "Destroy it. Shoot this thing right now, or I turn your skull into modern art."
His face contorted with rage, his body squirming in my grip. His hand instinctively reached for my fingers, attempting to pry them off.
"Nice try," I muttered.
"Go to hell!" he spat, the words muffled by my hand.
"Reynolds, status update, I've lost visuals," Lane's voice crackled through Buzz Cut's earpiece.
I didn't have time to argue. My grip tightened. "Pull the trigger, damn it!" I growled, increasing the pressure on his face, feeling the hard contours of his skull beneath my fingers.
I drew my arm back and slammed his head against the corridor wall. His helmet bore the brunt of the impact, sending dust and brick fragments into the air. "Now!" I kept him pinned there with my elbow and mustered up some heat behind my eyes, a crimson glow painting the dim corridor.
"AAGH, NO! Please! Please, DON'T!" Buzz Cut begged, his nails scraping uselessly against my skin. "Alright, alright!" he whimpered, "I'll do it, I'll do it!"
The gunshot roared and the scent of burning metal filled the air. Broken pieces clanged on the floor, a final jolt coursing through me. "Rrrrhg," I grunted, teeth clenched tight against the surge of pain.
I sent the shattered collar bits flying with a well-placed kick, making them clatter against the wall. And then it hit—a rush of power, a taste of the true strength I had been denied for so long. I let go of Buzz Cut's head just in time before the surge could pop it like a grape. He scrambled away, panic in his eyes.
"Subject, whatever scheme you're cooking up, stand down,"
I gripped my head, grimacing. Not now, I was so close. With every fiber of my being, I pushed back against the tendrils of Lane's mental grip, feeling a taste of victory now that the collar's chokehold was history. I had to… take down… Grodd…
I squinted, the desert landscape coming into sharp focus behind the wall. My focus narrowed, zeroing in on the army truck hidden behind the foliage. I peeled away its armored shell, and there he was, that cursed ape. A twinge of guilt pricked my conscience. Poor monkey didn't sign up to be in this monumental mess. He was alone. The soldiers huddled by the thorny trees, at a safe distance. It felt all kinds of wrong, but time was running out. I might not get another shot.
"Subj–,"
Before the General could finish his command, I aimed my heat vision.
Searing beams shot forth, ripping through the fortress wall. Bricks and concrete exploded into a storm of debris. The flames found their mark, tearing straight into the truck's metallic hull. The explosion was deafening, a roaring fireball engulfing the vehicle.
A pang of regret twisted like a knife in my gut. But what choice did I have? I couldn't afford the luxury of dwelling on it now. Grodd was part of some seriously messed-up stuff, and if I didn't put an end to it, who would? How long could I have kept on doing Lane's dirty work, breaking bodies at his whim? How long before he forced me to cross a line I could never uncross?
More importantly, I was free at last. A full-blown grin spread across my face. I made my way toward the gaping hole I'd blasted in the wall. Lane stood amidst the trucks, his face twisted with anger. The stealthy approach had literally gone up in smoke. Rebel fighters were starting to spill out, drawn by the commotion. Gunshots echoed in the desert air.
I leaped from my vantage point, the ground cracking beneath my feet. I sprinted straight for Lane, the taste of vengeance on my lips.
The world blurred around me as I charged forward, planting myself right in his path. He took an involuntary step back, surprise flashing briefly in his eyes. His hand darted towards his belt, only to freeze as his gaze locked onto my newly liberated neck. The color drained from his face as I held his gaze.
"Are you out of your ever-loving mind?" he snapped, his voice quivering. "You've gone and practically signed the death warrant for every soldier in there! Do you even understand the threat you've unleashed?"
Classic Lane, bossy even in this situation.
"If you didn't keep me in the dark, maybe I would," I shot back, drawing closer with measured steps. He continued to back away, fear thinly veiled behind the tatters of his fading authority.
I savored the moment, one I'd been daydreaming about through endless days of captivity.
"Feeling a little shaky there, General?" I remarked, my fingers curling into fists. "I don't think your heart could beat any faster."
In one fluid motion, I lunged, grabbing the collar of his uniform. I sent him staggering backward, lifting him halfway off his feet until his spine met the steel bulk of the truck. Lane's back arched in pain, his breath escaping him in a wheezy gasp.
"Grodd won't save you this time." I added, punctuating my words with a firm pound of my fist beside his head. The metal panel caved and dented under the force.
I closed my eyes for a second, recalling the Bat's teachings, praying I wouldn't accidentally kill the bastard in a fit of anger. Keep it together, I chanted to myself, trying to rein in the urge to turn this jerk into a human pretzel.
"General, give the order!" a soldier bellowed, aiming an enormous rocket launcher at me. Right beside him, his buddy clutched his gun like it was a security blanket, eyes darting nervously between his companion and me.
Panic flashed across Lane's face. "Are you insane? At this range, you'll obliterate us all!" he blurted out, his voice an octave higher.
I paid their hysteria no mind. If they wanted to shoot at me, Jerkface over here would be the only casualty.
The whir of a heavy machine gun perched on an armored truck grew louder, its barrel slowly pivoting my way. I knew I could take a hit, but I wasn't in the mood for a lead shower. I let go of Lane. There wasn't much ground he could cover that I couldn't catch up to in a blink. I jumped on top of the metallic beast, my feet landing hard.
The soldier manning the machine gun froze, his fingers clenching the trigger. Before he could react, I pressed my palms under the weapon's frame, wrenching it from its mount. Sparks flew and the metal let out a protesting screech as it tore away and crashed heavily to the ground.
A heartbeat later, I was back on solid ground, my fingers closing around the barrel of the rocket launcher. It bent in my hand like it was made of rubber. The blond soldier who had been holding it let out a frightened whimper. Without a second thought, he turned and bolted, leaving the heavy weapon behind.
Returning my focus to Lane, I spotted him attempting to barricade himself inside another military truck. I closed the gap with a sprint and yanked the door from its hinges. With one hand I clutched his uniform. "Where the fuck you think you're going," I growled, snatching him out.
My fingers closed around his throat, and I shoved him into the ground, my knee pressing firmly against his head. "Remember all those orders you loved to bark?" I taunted between gritted teeth. "Here's a new one for you: Beg for your life."
Lane's eyes bulged, his face turning an alarming shade of red as he scrabbled desperately at my grip, starved for precious oxygen.
"You—You can't—" he stammered, words choking in his throat.
My free hand found the truck's underbelly, fingers curling around the rough metal. "There is not much I can't do," I stated coolly, lifting the rear end.
"You treated me like some kind of lapdog," Slowly, I rose to my full height, raising the truck with me, leaving Lane to hang helplessly in my other hand.
"Tortured me with that cursed collar," I pressed on, "Let's see how you like being at the mercy of someone stronger for a change." With a hard shove, I sent the truck hurtling into one of the towering acacia trees. Glass shattered and branches rained down in a thunderous crash.
From the fortress, gunfire erupted, and I spared a momentary glance in that direction. My eyes fell upon a figure defying gravity, holding the scarred soldier against a wall without a single touch.
Shifting my focus back to Lane, I pressed the advantage. "I can take down the telekinetic one, but you have to promise me one thing – after this, you leave me be." I said firmly, my grip on him loosening. He crumpled to the ground, his knees giving way beneath him as he gasped for air. "Don't come after me." I warned.
Lane studied me, his brow furrowing. While he mulled over his life choices, a guttural scream pierced the air. A deafening crash followed, and the scarred soldier was abruptly ejected through a window. I darted toward him, catching his limp body mid-air.
Without a word, I lowered the injured soldier to the dusty earth at Lane's feet. I suppressed a wince. Blood oozed from a deep gash on the man's forehead, and a quick scan didn't paint a prettier picture, confirming a couple of fractured ribs. Medics rushed over to attend to his injuries.
My eyes locked back onto Lane. "Your move," I pressed, my arms crossed over my chest.
Lane wasn't thrilled, he clenched his jaw, his fingers drumming nervously on his thigh. Another anguished cry came from the fortress. His eyes squeezed shut, his brows furrowing in distress.
"Fine!" he finally bit out. "Take care of the…individual, and we'll honor our end of the deal." he let out a begrudging sigh.
"Deal," I replied.
I shot towards the stronghold. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of burnt rubble and the coppery tang of freshly spilled blood. Buzz Cut dangled in mid-air, his limbs twisted into grotesque angles. Another soldier lay sprawled on the ground, unmoving.
Bullets whizzed past me as the rebels noticed my approach. With a shrug, I tossed them aside, flinging their bodies against the fortress walls without breaking my stride. My focus fixed on the rebel leader.
"As much as I'd love to see Buzz Cut's ballet moves, I've got to deal with you." His piercing eyes bore into mine, framed by a mane of unruly beard.
"More lost soldier? I crush you like others." he sneered in broken English.
In a fraction of a second, I bridged the distance between us, my hands swiftly snaking around the telepath's arms. But before my grip could close, an invisible force propelled me backward, and I smashed through the wall behind me, debris raining all over my body. What the…? I couldn't help but feel a strange thrill. Being the one thrown around was oddly refreshing for a change. But, I had a deal to seal.
Shaking off the dust and rubble, I rose to my feet. The rebel leader responded with a barrage of projectiles—chunks of stone and bricks from the demolished fortress walls. Instinctively, I crossed my hands in front of my face, the stones shattering upon impact against my forearms. With a determined stride, I advanced toward him, deflecting the rocks with a sweep of my hand.
With his mind, the man ripped out a massive support beam from the ruins, swinging it like a makeshift battering ram. He sent it flying towards me. I braced for impact but it only splintered against my shoulder with an ear-splitting CRACK.
"You… strong, but you not… win so easy," he rasped out.
"Guess we're about to find out," I smirked back.
I sent the beam hurtling aside and disappeared in a blur. From behind, I snagged his outstretched arm, fingers digging into his sweat-soaked skin. Recalling my own actions when under Lane's control, I gave his temple a friendly tap before he could react. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed into my arms, out cold. I threw him over one shoulder, his unruly beard tickling my neck. With my free arm, I scooped up the fallen soldier. Fuck Buzz Cut, he could find his own way out for all I cared; I was clocking out.
I deposited the unconscious man at Lane's feet with a less-than-graceful thud. The injured soldier joined the haphazard pile.
Lane's face turned ashen as he glanced down at the bearded rebel, then back at me.
"I hope you don't forget I could have killed you with the flick of my finger, and I chose not to," I said, my eyes locked onto his.
"And remember, General," I growled, leaning loser until our faces were inches apart, "deals work both ways. You wanted this 'individual' taken care of." My eyes shifted down to the rebel leader, then back to Lane. "But if you or anyone you send so much as think about coming after me or my family," I continued, "Well let's just say your precious daughter won't be getting any sweet sixteen presents. Got it?"
Before he could muster a response, I was gone, the wind whispering sweet freedom in my ears.
I was nobody's puppet