Brian Steele - 4POCALYPSE - Four Tales of a Dark Future

The second soldier raised a rifle and Kel dived at him, catching his knees and super-extending them as the two men fell to the floor. The soldier screamed out in pain and a burst of rounds from the rifle tore through Hollister’s chest and head, then into the ceiling. I did not have to look back to know that Karen was dead.

Kel retrieved zip ties from the soldiers’ belts and we secured them inside the room before heading out into the hall. I noted a couple of lab technicians ducking into their labs. The hallway was otherwise empty. With the labs on one side, there were offices on the opposite side. The directly across from us had Thyssen’s name on it. Kel had taken one of the soldiers’ rifles. I nodded at the weapon and then indicated the office door. He smiled.

The bullets ripped into the door handle and tore into the doorjamb. Kel took a step back and I kicked in the door, ducking down on my knees as a follow-through. Sure enough, bullets slammed into the wall behind us. Kel opened fire above my head into the office, spraying the entire width. I leaped and rolled into the room, taking cover behind what looked to be a meeting table close to the door.

Kel sprayed fire into the room once again entered behind me. Before he could get down behind the table with me, I heard two successive shots and Kel spun, falling hard against me. He crumpled to the floor, blood flowing from his upper chest and shoulder.

“How’s he doing, Rock?” Thyssen asked from the opposite side of the room. “Is it bad?”

I ran a hand over the wounds and saw that both bullets were through and through. The bleeding is what I needed to address. I ripped away part of Kel’s shirt, wadding it into a ball and applying it to the wounds, which were no more than two inches apart. He grunted and looked up at me with pain-filled eyes.

“It’s up to you, I guess. I’m really sorry, Rock. I—“ He winced, cutting off his words.

“No worries, Kel.” I felt that old sense of familiarity that had tinged my memory cells on several occasions since I’d found him in my house. “This is what I came here for. Thank you for tagging along, even though you didn’t have to.”

“I’d follow you anywhere,” he said. Then he passed out. I laid him gently to the floor and turned my attention to the problem at hand.

“Thyssen,” I called out. “I owe you a sore jaw. Let’s say we do this the old-fashioned way. What do you think?” I wondered if his arrogance and over-developed sense of self-confidence would play to my benefit. If he were smart, he’d say no. Even though, he still had the advantage.

“Did your uncle ever teach you fencing?”

I frowned at the thought. This guy was not only a loon, he was a narcissistic poser. . Who else would opt for an anachronistic sword fight, except a person who wanted to demonstrate his cleverness and skill. Still, I needed to humor him, get him in the open where I would at least have a decent shot at a lucky blow.

“I’m familiar with blades, yes.” I was. That was no lie. It was just the majority of my experience lay with smaller blades. Still, Uncle Derrick had taught me a thing or two about swordplay; just not that much. I admit to not particularly caring for the fencing lessons Uncle D had forced upon me. To me it had been a waste of time. I guess fate was about to prove me wrong.

I heard some shuffling and a gun went sliding by me out into the hallway. It could be a ploy, though. Next, I heard the unmistakable sound of metal on metal and a beautiful saber came sliding into view.

“Ready when you are, young lady,” he said. I was really getting sick and tired of him calling me that.

“Fine.” I stood slowly, hoping he wouldn’t just blow my brains out. He was standing by his desk, a behemoth of shiny hardwood. Moving slowly, I stepped over Kel and retrieved the saber. I couldn’t help myself. I took a defensive stance and said, “En garde, you prick.”

Doctor Eliot Thyssen, murderer of the human race, actually smiled at me as he whipped his sword in the air. It cut the air with a hissing whistle and we were upon each other.

We traded parries and thrusts, lunges and ripostes. He was much better than me, I knew. After only a few passes, I realized he was just toying with me. I decided my only hope was to take unnecessary chances, draw him out, and see if I could throw him off balance and create an opening. He performed a lunge and I countered with a parry in quarte, turning slightly to the side, allowing his thrust to slide by me. At that moment, I swept up with my blade, knocking his into the air, and then swiping down. I was pleased to see the blood seeping down his chest as I moved backwards to end up in the en garde position once more.

Thyssen looked down at the significant slice running diagonally down his chest and stomach. Ripping his shirt away from the wounds, he used part of the cloth to wipe away the blood and my breath caught in my throat as I watched the wound healing itself before my eyes. Thyssen smiled at me and opened his arms wide as if to say, “Look at me, I am invincible.” Thoughts raced through my head and none of them had happy endings.

“You could’ve been like me,” he said, the point of his saber digging into the hardwood floor between his feet. He had both hands on the hilt and his eyes were locked on mine. “Your father was a good man. A little too good, I should say. His elevated sense of morality clashed with my goals more than once. Of course, when we began to realize that the outbreaks were tied to my Telomere6 subjects, he was on his high horse in an instant. He was meddling with my future, meddling with the future of mankind.”

“You nearly killed off mankind, you fool,” I said in response.

“Do you really think that the the human race, in the state it was in thirteen years ago, truly deserved to live forever? Widespread moral and societal decay, recreational drug use, urban violence, international wars — nothing but fuel for the funeral pyre.”

“Wait just a fucking minute. Are you saying that the decimation you caused was, what, an act of God?”

“I’m not God, young lady. I’m just a scientist who will save mankind, making it better for future generations.” He moved into the en garde position and nodded at me. “And, you’re standing in the way of history.”

He performed a smooth balestra and immediately lunged in. I parried and danced into a flèche, striking out as I passed him on his left. He blocked me with perfect efficiency and then turned to lunge once again. I leaped back, almost off balance, in order to avoid his blade.

He took immediate advantage and flicked downward and out with the tip of the saber. I felt the blade slice into my thigh, backing into his desk to avoid any follow-through from him. I used my momentum to fall back and kick my feet over my head, landing solidly on the opposite side of the desk. My eyes were on him and I ignored the separation of flesh across my thigh. I hoped that the healing factors of the Nanomere9 would jump into action as promised. In the meantime, I kept my focus on Thyssen. His expression was one of grudging admiration, but then resolution returned and he came for me.

As he moved around the desk, he removed his lab coat, tossing it on the desk and ripped at the remains of his shirt with one hand while maneuvering his blade with the other. I glanced around and saw that there was little of use in the room. The huge desk took up the most space. There was the meeting table, overturned and shielding Kel from the events occurring. On one side of the room were two tall refrigerators with glass doors, through which I could see samples, vials and a few syringes. This guy was nothing if not dedicated.

The two of us continued our little dance, lunging, parrying; I even managed a passata-sotto at one point, but Thyssen was far better at this dance than I was and easily avoided the tip of my saber as I straight-armed it toward his stomach. I was glad he couldn’t hear my thoughts because they were all laying odds in his favor. Once in a while, I would catch observers peeking into the broken doorway, and I wondered who they were betting on.