“Don’t fight.” Cole’s rough words are more plea than warning.
My eyes close, not wanting to see what I’ve done. My stomach churns, empty, but threatens to eject the bit of water I had with the captain earlier. The click of metallic cuffs securing my wrists behind my back awakens the squad.
“What are you doing?” The captain erupts and my chest throbs from my powers trying to come to her aid.
A spark from my center answers before I'm left hollow inside. I’m spent, there’s nothing left. Exhaustion creeps in, but my legs drag me to the squad anyway.
“Don’t make it worse.” Cole is in front of me, blocking my path.
He holds one of my arms at a distance. I face his flared nostrils and hard judgment. Did I read him wrong? Did I imagine we silently agreed that killing Targe’s warriors was the only way to save the squad? Phantom ringing steel and the spongy wet thump of Holden’s decapitated head echo in my mind.
My eyelids droop and I lean heavy to one side. Cole jerks me upright when I sway. He checks me over before raising his eyes to something over my shoulder.
I'm drained at the worst possible time. This is the last chance I’ll get to run. I can hear arguing. Cole lets me go and is shouting now, too. I slump against a tree. My body can’t give out now.
“Move it, Oren.” Targe leads me by my elbow.
I stumble along the ground to get my feet back under me. His fingers dig into my flesh as he drags me behind him. The sound of fighting breaks out and a wave of sulfur hits. Another horde is here.
Targe throws me to my knees and my hands tingle from the lack of circulation. My knees bleed numb on the jagged rocks as I bargain with my abilities to wake up.
“A horde is here. We have to leave.” My words are small and airy.
A sharp pinch in my neck drops me to my side and a wave of darkness consumes my sight. My limbs fall dead asleep as I lie vulnerable on the forest floor. I'm trapped in a sinking empty void. My body won't respond except for my hearing. It's sharp and refined.
Fighting rages behind us. Bone rattling earth pounds beneath me. Then the rank stench of the Mist invades and chokes my lungs. The air fills with acidic demon ichor and coppery warrior blood. And the captain's battle cry arrows through my chest. I call out but only manage a weak, gurgled moan.
“I knew your family was the key somehow.” Targe throws the empty syringe on the ground and crushes it underneath his boot.
“So many wasted years. You were right in my grasp, in my region, this entire time. I wasted decades trying to empower our warriors with a fraction of the fighting power you showed today. Slicing through my warriors on pure instinct. You were magnificent!”
I killed warrior-born and Targe’s excited praise shatters something inside me. Thick bile burns up my throat and foams bitter in my mouth puddling against my cheek. I can’t form the strength to spit or cough. I roll over onto my back and wince as the cuffs dig into my wrists. I force my unseeing eyes open, to keep from passing out.
“Targe to base.” His comm crackles with a connection.
The squad and the few remaining backup warriors are still fending off the demons in the distance. The ring of their weapons are slowing.
“Send in the transport. We’re under attack. Sustained heavy loss. Elite Squad KIA. I repeat we need immediate evac. Over.”
The cloudy gray light of the Mist beams down through swaying tree branches above. I blink rapidly as if that will clear my vision more. Targe’s towering frame casts me in shadow.
“Not dead.” My vocal chords strain a mumble.
“They will be by the time the transport arrives. You're the sole survivor of the illustrious Elite Squad. A murderer, a traitor, just like your family before you.”
I squeeze my eyes close. He'll blame me for their deaths. I accept the ones I’m responsible for, but not theirs.
“But don’t worry, I’ll plead for your life. For you to remain in my custody. Think of all the lives I can save with the expense of just one unwanted warrior.” He lifts me up off the ground by the front of my uniform. My head lolls to the side and my legs dangle, useless as I meet his cold cruel stare.
His manic laugh barks in time with the squad’s grunts and pained yells. A rush of footsteps closes in on our position. I take the chance at his distraction to try and get away. I slip from his grip and fall face first in the dirt.
“Where are you going to go, boy?” Targe laughs at my attempt.
I concentrate on my center and push whatever reserve power I have into my limbs. I heal fast. No matter how exhausted I've been, I always have enough energy to heal. A twinkle flickers inside and ebbs out from my center to warm my limbs. Cole runs up and reaches down to help me stand.
“We’re moving out to meet the transport.” Targe says.
My legs hold this time but I keep up my weak appearance. I close my eyes and I listen for the squad. They’re still fighting but gasping and grunting more than before.
“Back up is coming?” Cole shifts my weight to lean on his side and Targe walks ahead.
“Bring the prisoner, son.” I crack open an eye to check for an escape.
“We can’t leave them.” Cole adjusts his hold on me but doesn’t follow his dad.
In three strides Targe backhands his son. I jerk to the side to avoid Cole’s head hitting mine.
“Move out.” Targe is thunderous.
His lips curl over sharp canines in an exaggerated sneer. He is more demon than the creatures attacking right now.
“With the Elite’s gone you’ll be the ideal candidate to lead a new squad.” Targe forges a path through the thick brush as Cole drags me beside him.
“You’re going to be my perfect specimen, Oren. You’re going to save our warriors and our nation. You should be grateful for the privilege I’m giving you."
Yeah, some privilege, the life of a lab rat. Phantom pinpricks ignite my limbs but whatever he injected is still too strong for me to make a move. Cole is quiet by my side.
“It’s been a very successful mission, boys. We needed to capture a powerful demon to replace the one I gave Centrum. And Oren here is even better than a demon, aren’t you?” His smile is a predator closing in.
“You’re going to be saving millions of lives.” His black eyes gleam. "It’s an honor, Oren. All warriors want the same thing. It’s in our blood, the overwhelming drive to eliminate the demons, to save others. Even more so in you by what I saw today.”
“Your father and brother were so strong. I wished for hundreds of Orens to save us.” Targe continues and we fall behind a little more. "With your pure, founding family blood I’ll finally have my wish. If your abilities can be shared with others...together we’ll create a new generation of super warriors to eliminate the demons once and for all.”
Cole's grip loosens and I hold myself up forgetting about playing weak. Targe turns reaching out to squeeze my bicep. “We'll discover where your strength comes from. And unlike the demon fluids that fuel my modified warriors, yours doesn't wear off.”
I shiver thinking about the green glow of Stephens vacant eyes before I removed his head.
Targe clutches tighter, giving me a shake in excitement that turns my stomach sour. He actually expects me to share in his joy. I want the same thing he wants. I want my power to be used for good. I want to save lives and kill the demons. And with what I’ve done, I would be willing to sacrifice myself to save others. But not at the cost of the Elites. Not at the cost of fellow warriors being reduced to lab experiments. What if whatever is inside me is worse than his demon serum?
I sag out of Cole’s hold. He lifts me up and I dead weight in his arms. I crash hard on my knees when he loses his grip. Whatever he gave me is burning off, awakening my torn flesh and fiery veins burning away whatever he injected. I bite back a groan and will my body to stay limp.
“We're dying out. And warriors aren’t born fast enough.” Targe looks down at me and back to Cole, confident in his righteousness.
“It was your family that gave me the idea of merging demon abilities with warrior strength. I spent years watching your father when we were at the academy together and then your brother later. Stolen glimpses here and there of what the Oren line could do. Times I swore they moved like the demons do. Strength, speed, healing, awareness."
"When my demon serum didn't work the first time. I saw an opportunity in you. But when you came to the academy, you were nothing like them. I saw a weak, pathetic excuse for a warrior, taking beating after beating. I thought I must've imagined your family strength."
Targe pauses to check the tracker in his hand before looking past me. To where the squad's clanging weapons and coordinated commands hold steady.
“Well, I have to hand it to her. I thought they’d be dead by now.” He laughs. “She built one hell of a team. We’ll move further away to meet the transport to make sure they’re left outside the wall dead or alive.”
Cole reaches to lift me up, but I throw myself to the ground. We can’t leave them.
Targe snarls at me in disgust.
“You take after your mother's side. Not an Oren but she was beautiful. What a shame she was right next to the gate that night. The night of the attacks, the first trial run of my new serum.”
Cole's sharp intake of breath reveals his surprise.
“I passed it through a festival celebration toast during shift change. When it killed the guards leaving the gate open to the attack, I knew it had to be injected the next time.” Targe continues, lost in the past.
“Your brother missed the toast. A coincidence that he volunteered to stay behind by the gate. I wonder if he would've survived. He would've led me in a new direction...” He tsks and clicks his teeth in thought of what could have been.
“You killed them.” I can’t stop the words that spill from between my clenched teeth. My face burns with anger and my abilities roar to life slamming against my chest.
“You caused . . . I blamed him. . . all this time.” Cole’s words die off before he can complete a thought. No doubt his mind is connecting the past and reeling from the truth, same as me.
“A necessary step to save our kind and the nation from annihilation, son. You must stop this childish way of thinking.” He looms over Cole, tensing to strike again.
A voice comes across his comm. “General Targe, we’re locked on your position, ETA five minutes.”
“Move.” The general spins around leading the way to the transport.
Cole pulls me up to kneel and grabs my cuffs. I’m struggling to understand what Targe revealed. But my power surges through my muscles fueled by my rising rage. A little more, and I can snap these cuffs apart. The hum of the magnetic field around my bindings disengages.
“What are you doing?” Targe accuses, stalking over.
Cole steps away from me. I’m still cuffed, but they won’t hold with the magnetics off. With an inhuman growl, Targe charges his son. Cole draws his ax from the warrior marks on his shoulder. I throw my body to the side as Targe tackles Cole to the ground.
My power comes alive with the threat. I make quick work of snapping the cuffs and jumping back on my feet. Targe’s thick veiny fingers clasp around his son's neck. Cole uses the handle of his double sided ax to try and push his dad off. Cole’s face is turning purple but his eyes gleam with purpose.
“Stop.” I lunge toward the general.
“Go.” Cole hisses through clenched teeth.
Targe is undeterred from his mission, ignoring me completely. He’s going to kill his own son.
“The others need you.” Cole says.
I shake off his request and shove Targe off. Cole leaps up and stands between me and the general.
“He’s mine.” Cole’s raspy voice sounds unaffected, making me wonder if his father caused it to be this way.
“You’ve always been weak.” Targe pulls himself up dusting off his uniform. “You’ve never been strong enough or determined enough to make the sacrifice. To do what needs to be done no matter the cost. To be worthy of being a Targe."
The general summons his weapon from his shoulder and closes the distance. His weapon is as terrifying as his presence. A thick four foot spiked kanabo club drags along the forest floor at his side.
“I’m happy to disappoint you, father.” Cole moves to meet him. His ax gripped sure, head held high.
“Go.” He says.
“I’m not leaving you.”
“I have to do this.” Cole turns to me.
There’s fear in his eyes, but the cocky self-assured ass I know comes to the surface too. I hold out the cuffs Targe used on me. He smirks, sliding them into his pocket. I nod and take a few steps toward the squad before looking back at Targe.
He smiles wide. “Don’t go too far, lab rat. This shouldn’t take too long.”
I can’t look at Cole. I don’t want him to see my doubt. Doubt that he can match his father. Doubt that he'll survive.
I push hard into a sprint and visualize the clearing where the squad makes their last stand. My center rockets me forward and I withdraw my blades in a blur.
