Adrian Smith - The Fourth Phase

Jack moved over to Dee and hugged her. “Let’s go get the boys.”

“Yeah, let’s end this.”

Jack turned to the sound of knocking. Eric pushed the door open. “Don’t forget about me!”

Jack grinned and shook his hand. “Eric. You made it.”

Eric nodded at the gathered Renegades. “Let’s do this for Tony, for all those we lost.”

Ben stepped around the table and grasped his shoulder. “Yes. Let’s do it for Tony. You’re in charge of the explosives. I want ten small bundles made up, six with five-minute timers, and four with two-minute timers.” He paused, looking around the room. “Just so you all know, I haven’t okayed this with Command. I’m giving you all the chance to back out now. Those that want to come, we leave at 1100.”

Jack smiled at his words. So what was new? The rescue of him and George had been off the books too.

Dee reached over and grasped Ben’s arm. “We’re Renegades, right?” Looking at each of them, she carried on. “So let’s Renegade!”

Dee’s words were answered with a cheer and an “Oo rah!” as the council broke apart. Each Renegade moving off to prepare.

Jack felt strangely calm as he headed for the armoury. Hold on boys. I’m coming.

It was the smell that woke Boss from his coma; the putrid stench of decay and death. It surrounded him, seeping into his pores and assaulting his nose. He tried breathing in through his mouth, but that made him gag. The thick air tasted like rotten meat. Bile rose up his throat and he vomited the acidic liquid out. He gasped for air, but breathing in the polluted air made him gag again. He forced himself to calm his breathing, to focus.

His breathing under control, his other senses kicked in. Excruciating pain lanced up his arms and legs, threatening to return him to his coma. Turning his head, he could see sharp bone protruding through his left hand. He struggled against the fastening as panic set in, his heart thumping in his chest. Boss turned to look at his right hand; that too was fastened with bone. And he could feel another one through his foot. Waves of pain cascaded over him and he clenched his teeth together, riding it out. What was it Dee had said to him? There is always a way out?

He peered through the dim light. He could see another figure strung out on a rack of bones across from him. Boss shuddered, realising what had happened; he had been crucified on a cross of bones. He could make out Beth’s blonde hair a few metres to his right. She was still, eyes closed. Boss prayed she was alive. He glanced around the room. It was a large open area, as far as he could see through all the bones and entrails. The walls, floor, and ceiling were concrete. A steel set of stairs rose up from the floor to a small metal landing. Pivoting his head, he could see another set of stairs at the other end of the room.

In the center of the room, bones had been piled up into a throne. The Alpha they called the Trophy King sat on top. A small cage made from bones lay to one side. Inside it, a small figure was curled up.

The Trophy King was watching Boss, his yellow eyes glaring at him. He leant his head back and bellowed. The bellow shook the bones. Boss screamed, and desperately tried to wrench himself free. He had tried to remain strong for George, for Beth. He had tried to protect them from the beasts. But he had failed. Now the Alpha was to have his revenge. An avid gamer, Boss had spent hundreds of hours facing monsters; when the monsters became reality, though, he ran and hid. Dee had inspired him to fight and survive, to live on.

He looked around again as despair washed over him, pulling him into its dark embrace. Hundreds of skulls on spikes lined the walls. Skulls of all different sizes. The Trophy King bellowed again, rising from his throne. Variants poured into the chamber, surrounding him. He reached down and pulled the figure from the cage, then pointed at Boss and howled. The gathered Variants joined in. The howls grew in intensity, rattling his teeth and hurting his eardrums. Boss gasped as he recognised George’s red hair. Tears flowed freely as he contemplated their fate.

The Alpha lifted George up, grasping the boy around the neck with one of his huge claws. He picked up a shard of bone with his free claw and, with another look at the crucified Boss, stabbed George in the eye. George’s scream tore into Boss, shattering his soul.

“Leave him alone! Kill me! Just please, leave him alone,” Boss screamed at the Trophy King.

The Alpha shoved the still-screaming George back into the cage and, with an astounding jump, leapt in front of Boss. His sucker mouth pulled back, revealing rows and rows of sharp teeth. His rancid breath fumed out. With a snarl, the Alpha jabbed the shard of bone into Boss’s leg, twisting it. Boss screamed in pain and fought to free himself. He didn’t care if he died trying, but he just wanted to kill this monster from hell. He managed to lift his left hand off the bone, and feebly hit the Alpha on the shoulder. The Trophy King hissed at him and clenched his wrist in his claw, cutting into the skin. Then he slammed Boss’s hand back onto the bone nail. Boss screamed again, his voice growing hoarse. The Alpha bounded over to the crucified Beth. She was now awake, the horror evident on her face. Her gaze met Boss’s as tears streamed down her cheeks. The Trophy King turned to him again and bellowed. Turning back to Beth, he stabbed her in the right eye with the shard. Beth let out an agonised scream, squeezing her remaining eye shut as blood poured from her now-ruined one. Boss cried with her, trying to comfort her with his empathy.

A Variant leapt in front of Boss, and he felt crushing pain on the side of his head as his vision dimmed and faded to black.

Maggie crept along the highway in the 4x4. The late afternoon sun was quickly descending to the horizon, casting long shadows on the road in front of her. She had left the main group a few hours back and now she followed the trail, looking for them. Radio chatter told her that she was close, and vehicles pushed to the side of the road indicated that she was on the right path. She could make out a green and white road sign up ahead, and as she drew closer, she read that it said Karapiro. She slowed the 4x4 to walking speed and crept along the road.

Maggie spotted a long driveway just after the turnoff. She pulled into it and made her way up the tree-lined drive. At the end, a large grey house sat amongst landscaped gardens. Once-manicured lawns were now overgrown and abandoned. Maggie recognised azaleas and rhododendrons flowering, and a few camellias lined the garage to her right. She maneuvered the 4x4 between the house and garage, tucking it out of sight. Moving her rifle to within easy reach, she scanned around the property, looking for any Variants or red suits. Seeing nothing, she wound down the window, sniffing the air. She couldn’t detect the rotten fruit smell of the Variants. Satisfied that she was alone, she carefully and silently exited the vehicle.

After a quick walk of the perimeter, Maggie tried the back door of the house. Thankfully it gave and she quickly entered, closing the door behind her. A quick search of the kitchen turned up nothing of use. Making herself comfortable on the sofa, Maggie rummaged through her small rucksack, searching for what little food she had. Chewing on the beef jerky, Maggie contemplated her next move. The red coveralls had proven their worth against the Variants, but she knew it would only take one human to spot her for a fraud and she would become dinner. She needed to wait for morning and do some recon. Maggie had considered sneaking into the collaborators’ camp and killing a few of them, but she wasn’t sure how the red suits operated at night. Were they just a day thing? Did they even leave guards out? Did the Variants roam the night, leaving the red suits to stay within their camp?