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Danny West gripped her pistol a little harder as she crouched behind the threshold of the open door. Her son, little Cain, obediently kept his mouth shut just as he was instructed and clung to the aesir woman's leg.
She could hear them, the growling of a dozen infected clogging up the hallways of the school. Danny poked her head out and peered down the bloodstained corridor. The shambling and convulsing mutated bioforms that barely resembled people gathered round a feasting pile, where the mutilated corpses of children and parents had been dragged in from the massacre outside in the school canteen. Danny fought the urge to sneeze, to cough, and to vomit all at the same time while sneaking out of the classroom.
It was supposed to be another boring day in the city. That morning she drove her husband to Blackwatch Headquarters and wouldn't see him again until after the weekend. Then, she brought her son to a special school that recently opened up close to home. She parked way out in the back lot, marched up to the registrar's office to get her son enrolled. That's when things went horribly wrong.
Death was all around. Danny could smell the ashen coppery taste of the mutagenic spores, too little to be seen by the naked eye. It was everywhere, ever since that strange red cloud blew over Riverside.
It stung her nostrils, made her eyes water, but somehow didn't turn her into one of the scorched. Everyone else turned, and when they did- they turned on each other like rabid dogs. Poor Cain had to witness his young friends maul and get mauled by the infected horde. Danny got them away when the scorched were too busy eating each other and locked them up in one of the classrooms. Now, she took a chance once things got a little quieter and led her son out towards the treacherous path to escape. Cain held tightly to the back of his mother's belt, kept his mouth shut, and tried not to look at all the blood covering the lockers and floors.
Danny listened to the clicking of gnashing teeth, the howls of more infected roaming the halls, and the sickening crunch of limbs being gorged upon. Slowly, she inched closer and closer towards the exit.
Then, she rounded the corner and froze.
Standing alone among the brutalized bodies of six dead infected was the robotic school custodian, Yankee Doodle.
Dented but still intact, the bulky four-wheeled machine raised its head and scanned the woman and her son with its cyclopean red eye. It was big, sentry-bot big. All four of its mechanical arms, fitted with all manner of tools designed to maintain the school's many appliances and subsystems, got ready for a bloody scrap with the aesir. It was still in combat mode, registering any living organism it detected as a threat.
Considering the recent events leading up to that moment, Danny could hardly blame the robot. Thinking quickly, she lowered her pistol and stated a reprogramming access code. "Blackwatch Access Code 69-96. Identification; Danny Fade-West. Stand down."
"Acknowledged." The red eye switched to green, and Yankee Doodle lowered its arms. The mechanical growl blaring from its voice-module was immediately replaced by its default cheery cowboy voice, which made the woman's face crack into a pleased smile, "Howdy do, Mrs. West? Lovely day, ain't it?"
Danny glanced back, hearing the alert growls of several curious infected who were drawn to the noise. "Yes yes, lovely day and all that- look, there's some bad guys threatening me and my kid. Why don't you hold them back, protect the good citizens of the Dominion like a good custodian?"
Yankee blinked and dutifully declared, "Am I authorized to use lethal force?"
"Damn right!" Danny wasted no more time and hauled ass, carrying Cain in her arms as she bolted for the doors. "Go get 'em, cowboy!"
"Ya hee'd yer last haw, pardner!" The robot rolled off eagerly, meeting the horde head-on. Danny didn't stick around to watch as Yankee pummeled the scorched into pulp.
Outside, the air choked with the deadly red cloud. So thick and heavy were the spores that they formed crystallic deposits wherever they landed. Danny blinked, her eyes growing irritated by the second as the spores started building up in her eyelids. She covered her son's face with her hand as she holstered her pistol and hoisted him up.
"Mommy, it hurts..." Cain whimpered quietly, letting off a cough or two. "It hurts to breathe."
"I know, baby, I know." Danny hugged him close and sought the nearest shelter.
She avoided the shuffling forms in the red haze, taking the alleyways in a blind attempt to get to safety. Cars blocked every main path with their doors and windows smashed. Blood smears, encrusted with crystalizing spores, painted a clear picture of what happened as the infected overwhelmed the populace. Danny didn't see anyone else, not even the scorched. She lucked out when she emerged into the next street. There was a gun shop, still untouched by looters.
It had a big sign there that said in bright bold letters, PATRIOT ARMS. Inside, separated by a clear bulletproof glass pane, stood two female lifelike silicone mannequins dressed in colorful and rather provocative bunny-suits with the fishnet stockings mixed with the stereotypical American grunt wargear. The advertisement screen blasted a commercial on repeat, featuring the company mascot Uncle Sam announcing the end-month winter sale.
"... I own a mag-rifle for home defense, since that is what the founding fathers intended. Four ruffians break into my house-"
Danny heard a gunshot, then another, then another.
Two soldiers in power-armor, accompanied by three judges, were slowly marching down the street. One of the judges was a psyker, he was holding back the red cloud through a protective psi-barrier. Of course, their presence attracted the infected. The shaking, shambling scorched burst from their hiding places and attacked the group. The rooks were armed with drum-fed auto-shotguns, which worked well enough with clustered targets. The judges, equipped with a modest selection of small-arms, led the way through the infested neighborhood.
"Help! Over here!" Danny yelled above the noise.
The group paid no attention to her. They grinded through the horde and inched closer to the quarantine zone's edge, where the infested half of Riverside was walled off for the protection of the unaffected part of the city.
"Damn. Gotta get to them somehow." Danny muttered. She broke into the gun shop and started going through all the weapons there. The burglar alarm screeched overhead, attracting some of the scorched just as she picked up a shotgun from its case.
Danny turned to her kid, "Baby, would you kindly load up the gun for mommy while she takes out the trash?"
Cain coughed and nodded, "Okay."
The gun barked in her hands as she emptied her mag into the approaching horde. Little Cain loaded up the shotgun, slowly because he had tiny fingers, but he did exactly as his mother asked. When he was finished, Danny dropped her pistol and snatched up the shotgun. Cain covered his ears as the weapon barked even louder than the first, blasting the scorched into pieces as they stormed the open door.
When it was over, Danny took advantage of the brief respite by opening some more cases. She got out an AER13 Tactical Las-Rifle still smelling fresh from the day it was packed off from the assembly line, slapped on an MF cell, then prepared to move. In case they would run into another horde, she bagged a few more cells.
"Cain, baby, stay close to me." She said softly, resisting the urge to scratch her eyes.
Before leaving, she got out two filtration masks. One her size, the other for her son. They ventured back out quietly, following the judges without tipping off the roaming scorched. Sensing movement, the rooks whirled around and turned their weapons on mother and child.
"Hold fire! We're not infected!" Danny screamed at the top of her lungs. The rook in power-armor guarding the rear of the group spun around. He waved the pair over just as another cluster of infected wandered out of turn in the street. Danny and Cain hurried over, the judges fired their weapons and cut down the scorched. They didn't shoot at the mother and child, having observed the effects of the virus. If they were infected, they would've turned long ago.
"Finally, I was starting to think we're the only ones clean in this fucked-up city." One of the judges, the older and more soldiery-type, recognized the tall woman as an aesir. "And an aesir too! Looks like our chances of getting out went from none to slim."
"Awfully optimistic of you, judge." The rook grunted. "Now, can we move? We're exposed here."
"Walk and talk, but let's keep it down. Don't wanna ring the dinner bell any more than we have, yeah?" The judge said, "I'm Jury Heinz, Psy Ops. Kid over here's name is Sam."
"Hi." The younger judge said meekly.
"I'm Danny West. This is my son Cain. I'm... I'm with Blackwatch."
"Yeah, we figured as much."
"So what's the plan, judge?" Danny asked. "Any chance of us getting out of this city?"
"Yes, we made contact with the Haven, the green zone outside quarantine." Jury replied, "They're sending a Condor to pick us up."
"Where?"
"Right there, at the heli-pad." He pointed to one of the skyscrapers, poking high above the deadly red shroud blanketing the air above Riverside, the one standing a hundred meters away from The Imperial news tower separated by a light transit railway. "It looks like one hell of a walk though, what with a whole city of infected to go through. But it's the only place high enough above the clouds to keep the evac-team from getting contaminated."
"I think I can improve our chances a little bit." Danny suggested, "I can reprogram any robots we come across, they'll hold the horde back while we make for the heli-pad."
The group made sure to check out the places where domestic robots frequented, like construction sites, waste and recycling stations or peacekeeper precincts. Their number swelled from a tiny group of seven to a burgeoning thirty-eight. They fought through the hordes, using the robots reprogrammed by Danny to open a path to the tower. When they got to the ground level main lobby, they found the staff petrified in glowing ember-like growths. In areas of greater concentrations of the virus, this was the last stage of infection.
The psykers strained to keep the protective bubbles on while the survivors plowed through the contaminated zones. Up the stairs they went, in groups of five. Each group had to wait for the judges to come up and back to protect them from getting infected.
Danny went up with the first group. When they got to the roof, someone shot at them.
"Hold fire!" Judge Heinz yelled.
A moment later, a woman's raspy voice called out. "Why the hell should I?"
"Civilians coming in! Non-infected! Plus, we're your only ticket outta here- so hold your fucking fire!"
"Fine. Come on up!"
The group approached cautiously. On the heli-pad was a lone survivor, a rook standing next to a large stockpile of weapons. Several infected lay just a few feet away from the door, gunned down with ruthless efficiency. Seeing the other survivors with one in power-armor, the badly-shaken woman seemed to relax a bit. She lowered her weapon and let her shoulders sag.
"What's your name, soldier?" The judge asked.
It took five seconds before the woman snapped back to reality. "Huh?"
"Name. Soldier."
"Uh-uh... Stone. I'm Sgt. Stone."
"Right..." Heinz pursed his lips, "Might be stupid of me to ask, but do you have anyone else with you?"
"No. It's just me." Stone replied.
"Relax, rook. You're about to get a lot of company today. Consider yourself relieved, now stand down."
The rook shouldered her weapon and took a seat. The judge assigned one of the rooks in power-armor to stay and guard the platform while he returned to the lobby where he'd left young Sam Ray with the other survivors. Back and forth he went, never stopping until the last man and woman was safely on the heli-pad. The judges barricaded the door behind them and slumped down to the floor, exhausted after using their psionic abilities all day. The survivors huddled together, paced around, twitched and stared into the darkening sky as night fell. They waited anxiously for the rescue that was sure to come. For a moment, the group started to breathe easy. For a moment, they didn't have to face the infected hordes.
However, the winds below started to carry the mixed cacophony of the scorched horde. There were some rattling of gunfire, screams, and explosions as pockets of uninfected fought desperately against the monsters. Then, silence.
Somehow, the silence was worse.
After the success of his mission, the Enclave spymaster Mr. E made one final stop on his way out of Dominion lands. Hidden in the ruins of a factory in an unclaimed patch of heavily irradiated soil was an Enclave cell, tasked with guarding the one asset that was the primary means of infiltrating their enemy's territory.
A teleporter, linked to a network that ran across every Enclave installation in the continent.
It was very expensive to make one, but the Enclave thought it a worthy investment of resources to put one right in the Dominion's backyard. Considering the events of the past 24 hours, they gambled that the Dominion would have bigger things to worry about than looking for a gap in their defenses. And the results of their mission made it all worth the effort.
Mr. E had a confident swagger in his step as he disembarked from his truck and removed his filtration mask. Safe behind the steel doors of the installation, he was happy to be in the company of true patriots. A personnel count of thirteen, commanding an attachment of thirty Revenant drones, manned and maintained the facility. The infiltration team was scheduled to be sent back to the undercity for debriefing and reassignment, but they tarried a bit to have a little celebration. A metal cooler was brought out and opened. The whiskey was passed around and the men relaxed while swapping tales about their success. The spymaster stood at the foot of the large device. It was a hollow sphere surrounded by massive displacement rings that acted as the primary components necessary to generate the spatial distortion event. Mr. E heard somewhere that they barely scratched the surface of teleportation technology. Given enough time, perhaps in two centuries or more, the Enclave would gain the capability of crossing time as much as space.
The teleporter could transport a select number of organic and inorganic subjects. For safety's sake, and to avoid overloading the fusion-reactors, this number ranged from a small squad of soldiers to a single truckload of equipment per day. As the party went on, an alert notification reached the console on the main platform. The technician in charge took a peek and signaled the crew to return to stations.
They had a new batch incoming.
Locking in all safety precautions, all personnel prepared to greet the newcomers as the distortion rings spun around the sphere until it was a blur. A small storm of sparks coalesced into a bright little ball of light in the center of the sphere. Onlookers were instructed to wear specialized headgear or to avert their gaze while the event horizon approached, to keep themselves from going blind. One final flash of light and a deafening crack reverberated across the facility. In an instant, a squad of four armed men appeared in a swirl of sparkling blue motes. They didn't say anything, not to anyone. When the head of the facility asked for some ID or any clearances, the squad leader showed him a presidential order and went on his way. They commandeered one of Mr. E's trucks and drove off into the wasteland, leaving everyone else bewildered.
"Another one of the president's task forces." Mr. E declared, placing the edge of his cup back to his lips.
The party resumed. But no more than fifteen minutes had passed before the machine started winding up again. Confused, the lead technician had his crew man their stations and prepared for the second unexpected party. There was no notification this time, it just happened. Again, the lights danced in the event horizon and space was folded in on itself.
A moment later, Hannah Greyfax stood before the astonished men all kitted-out for war. Now, the difference between the Apex and most other special operations was that no one other than General Winters' cabal knew they existed. And to keep it that way, every Apex operative must be prepared to neutralize all witnesses.
"Uh... so who are you supposed to be?" The bespectacled technician whipped up a datapad as he approached the woman clad in a tight psi-armor bodysuit.
Hannah's visor slapped down. She carried a sleek silver rifle and had a specialized gauntlet on her right arm which was connected to the actuators that lined along the curve of her spine. She gave the man no reply, but simply raised her hand and touched him. The technician uttered a strangled gasp as a bright green energy wormed its way through every nerve in his body. It left a series of blackened marks, treelike- where his nerves used to be. Like a marionet without strings, he collapsed in a heap. Hannah closed her hand into a fist and released that same energy through her rifle, delivering death from afar and with ruthless precision.
When the facility staff and their robots tried to defend themselves, Hannah simply sidestepped their every shot. She saw the future, even at a range of a few seconds. That was enough for her to gain the upper hand.
In an age of man-made horrors, Hannah was General Winters' masterpiece of death. Her suit siphoned from the powerful psionic energies of her mind, transforming it into the deadly green synaptic disintegrator energies she used on her victims. The only problem was that against inorganic targets, it was pretty much useless. That was what the rifle was for. She switched to kinetic rounds with a casual flick of the thumb, blasting the Revenants into scrap where they stood.
Mr. E fell to his knees as the deadly green traveled up his body. Hannah had only grazed him, but that was enough to trigger the effects. Steadily, like a serpent's venom, it overwhelmed his body and stopped his heart. It felt like getting black-out drunk, having a stroke and an aneurysm all at once.
Without stopping to savor her kills, Hannah searched the facility for her quickest means of transportation and immediately followed the kill team sent after the High Marshal.
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