Skyfire (33 page)

HUGHES

              The group moved the last pieces of debris blocking the entryway. Ronak put his massive shoulder into the handicapped door on the south side of the main entryway.  Cool night air flooded into the building.               
Holy shit.  Help me. 
“Jack!  Karl!  Get Chief over here to cover our movement!”
Where am I going?
  Trent instinctually looked for cover. 
There!
  He bolted to the equestrian statue of Theodore Roosevelt, rotated in mid-sprint, and slammed back-first into the base of the fifteen-foot monument.  “Jack!  Fucking hurry!  Look at this!”

              “Roger!”  Jack was behind a makeshift barrier twenty feet to Trent’s right flank. 

C’mon chief.  Now or never, man. 
It was difficult for Trent to hear Jack’s radio conversation; the sound of everyone shooting was deafening.  Karl was at the opposite side of the statue’s base, firing controlled pairs like it was second nature. 

Harrison carried the older man as Callie assisted the casualties who could walk.  The horde was closer than two hundred meters away and the group was low on ammo. 

Shit, we need to get going. 

The popcorn sounds of controlled pairs echoed across the museum’s entry stairway on Central Park West. 

Just then the Blackhawk piloted by Chief Rudich screamed past at a very low altitude.  Trent thought the sound couldn’t get more deafening, and then the 240B machine guns opened up. 

Yes!  Thank you!

“Jack, Karl!  Let’s fucking go!”  Trent yelled.

They fell into a familiar formation, the casualties and Kapur’s family in the middle.  Karl took point. Callie, Harrison, and Jack were in the middle herding casualties, with the intention of rotating who carried  the unconscious man.  Trent was at the rear, with Ronak pulling security.               
I can’t believe Harrison hasn’t fallen over from exhaustion yet.  Goddamn, what a good kid. 
 

They all ran as fast as they could.  Karl was in phenomenal shape and pushed the pace. Every time he turned to check the gap between him and the group, Trent could see how frustrated he was.  Trent knew Karl was used to operating in small groups where everyone functioned at an extremely high level. 

The pack of touched individuals was now one hundred meters away and gaining speed rapidly.  Each time the bird passed over the horde, it unloaded three ten-second bursts of chain-linked death into the crowd.  Yet the aggressors kept getting faster.  As they got closer, Trent saw what Chief Rudich had been talking about over the radio. 
Oh my god. 

“What the fuck is that?”  Jack was losing his shit.

“Dude, I have no idea!” said Trent.  “Keep going!”

Ronak got into the same unorthodox stance as during his beautiful display of violence on the subway platform.

What am I seeing?  How does that thing have seven arms?
What appeared to be a combination of five or more bodies merged together bounded forward, surrounded by screeching maniacs who were not only pursuing the group, but tearing each other apart.  It was unmitigated chaos.  Each time a combined human was torn apart by Rudich’s 240s, or by other touched humans, there were more fractal flashes and bigger versions would emerge.  The accompanying sounds were bone chilling.

“Ron, what the fuck?” 
Is he buying us time?  His people are OK.  I fucking killed one of them today.  Was that one a Legate too?  Was it a good person?  Fuck.

A bright flash sparked in Ronak’s lower back, producing the same weapon configuration as before.  He bounced around a bit, showing how loose and comfortable he felt.  As the horde enveloped him, Ronak’s only assistance was the 240s making passes every thirty seconds. 

“Trent, what’s he doing?”  Jack was exasperated.

“Don’t worry, just keep going!  Keep FUCKING going!  Don’t make this all for nothing!” 

Ronak danced around gracefully with his blade, leaving a trail of gore and mist in his wake.  This distraction proved invaluable to the rest of the group, as the entire horde now zeroed in on the legate. 

Goddamn it.  He can’t keep that up.  I don’t give a shit where he’s from or what shape he’s in.

One of the enormous inhuman monstrosities took notice of Ronak and lumbered toward him.  Ronak didn’t notice as it approached his back and landed a huge blow to his head.  The rest of the group now had two hundred meters between them and the horde. 

Fuck.  Emma, forgive me. 
Trent slowed down to a jog and then stopped.  No one noticed.  He slowly turned around.  Legate Ronak was on the ground, rolling away from the strikes of the giant mutant.  Had the other touched individuals not been preoccupied with ripping each other apart, he would have already been eviscerated.  

Baby, if I live, I will not stop until I find you. 
Trent sprinted toward Ronak. 
I have maybe half a mag in this load.  Twelve if I counted right. That’s six of these assholes.  I got two mags left, two hand frags, a bayonet, alcoholism, and a can-do attitude!  Let’s fucking do it! 

Ronak noticed Trent running to him.  “Captain Hughes, stay away fro-”  Before he could finish, Ronak took a vicious hammer fist to the body - only the “fist” was three arms and one screaming face.

“Shut the fuck up, Ron!”  Trent kept thrusting forward with his bayonet, clearing body part after body part in his path.

“Trent, please!  You can’t!  You FUCKING CAN’T!” screamed Callie.

Trent was now staring at the back of the repugnant beast. 
I saw this in a video game once. 
He unloaded the last rounds of his magazine into the thing’s back as he ran up what could only be described as a “leg” that was almost a meter wide.  Miscellaneous arms, eyes, and body parts protruded everywhere along this path, which took Trent fifteen feet in the air. 

“Captain Hughes!  You shouldn’t have done this!”  Ronak executed a technical standup that would have made the most experienced mixed martial artist cream his pants.  He continued wreaking carnage.  The group was well ahead of them now.

He’s good to go.  I can die now.  I paid my debt.  Ron, I’m sorry for killing one of your people.  I wish I could’ve just told you man-to-man.  This is not the first time I’ve made this mistake, but this time I’m making it right. 
Trent placed his right foot on what appeared to be the beast’s neck and his left on its back.  He continued thrusting with his bayonet.  After two clean plunges of the bayonet, the beast forgot about Ronak and took notice. 
Oh fuck.  We’re going for a ride. 
Trent fell forward, grabbing the beast’s neck.  The beast whipped around relentlessly, until it once again noticed Ronak. 

Now or never! 

“Trent, what are you doing?”  Ronak yelled.

Trent kept his left arm wrapped around the beast’s neck, which was so thick he could only manage a wide grip.  He grabbed one of Karl’s fragmentation grenades with his right hand. 
Fuck, give me two seconds of standing still, you little shit! 
As if the universe heard him, the beast stood almost perfectly still.  It tilted its head to the side to look at the situation developing around Ronak.  Trent released his left hand from the beast’s neck and pulled the pin.  As the grenade cooked off, he shoved it deep inside one of the wounds he’d opened with his bayonet.  Before he was able to roll off, the grenade exploded. 

The blast threw Trent ten feet behind the beast, which was now a huge pile of bones, flesh, blood, and vibrating fractal uncertainty.  It smelled like rotten meat that had been left in the sun for days.  Though Trent was amid chaos, his mind once again wandered as he watched steam rising from the hunk of flesh. 
I thought that market bombing from 2008 was the worst.  Guess not. 

Trent stood, intent on continuing the fight. 
Where’s my rifle?  What’s all this blood on me?  Holy shit, my arm!  I’m bleeding out!  I’m cock-sucking-mother-fucking bleeding out!  I need a tourniquet!  FUCK!  I USED MY ONLY ONES ON JESSIE’S MOM! 

More touched ones took notice of Trent. 

So this is it.  This is fucking it.  Emma, I’m so sorry.  I tried, baby.  I wish I believed Jesus would be there at the end like you do.  I’m so scared…

“Captain Hughes!”  Ronak saw what was happening.

“Ron, GO!  THEY NEED YOU!”  Trent had accepted his fate.

“Trent!  DON’T!”  In a rare display of emotion, Ronak looked like he was pleading with Trent.

The reassembled mob rushed Trent.  Time slowed.  Trent looked to the sky, closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose
.  So this is how I die…
How fucking dumb.  I’ve done nothing worthwhile with my life.

“No. Not how,” said a voice.

“Emma?”

“No.”

“What the fuck is going on?  What is this?”

A limitless, spiral-patterned fractal void surrounded Trent.  It was as if the visual fabric of reality were folding in on itself.  This visual phenomenon first presented itself on an immensely large scale, then slightly smaller, then smaller again, till it felt like traveling at light speed through a beautiful, vibrating tunnel.  Coming out the back end was a space completely foreign to any human experience.  The brilliant colors and pulsating rhythms were beautiful, but highly confusing.  Trent felt extreme paranoia. 

So this is how it feels to die.  How interesting.  This is not at all what I expected.

“No.”

What is this?  Stop sounding like fucking Soundwave from “Transformers,” you creepy piece of shit! 
Trent’s ability to perceive was greatly diminished. 
I feel like I just ate a head kick for breakfast. 
What had seemed like an elaborate environment meant to teach him lessons by using incredible detail drawn from past experience was now reduced to short answers and fractal patterned color.  Trent still felt the effects of the blast, but couldn’t make out his own body.  He was suspended in the void.  The conversation felt less like a talk and more like unspoken communication with images and thoughts.  The sounds Trent heard were simple, monotone, and to the point. 

“What are you?”  Trent asked. 

“I am.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I am.”

“You are what?”
What the fuck.  Stop being stupid with your cryptic bullshit. 

“I AM.” 

You see, man?  This is why I fucking hate religion. 
“I DON’T UNDERSTAND!” Trent was getting irritated, completely forgetting everything else.

The presence sensed his frustration.  “Show you.”

“What?”  Trent addressed this voice as if he were an annoyed cab driver at the end of his shift.

Trent’s mind-eye traveled further down the tunnel of brilliant light until everything zoomed into focus.  At first, the brilliant light looked random, the spiraled patterns vibrating everywhere.  As he ventured further into the void, however, Trent noticed the pattern taking a shape that resembled a brilliantly-colored spider web.  Traveling further still, the spirals started to take shape.  The presence stopped Trent on one particular spiral with matter and light inside it.  The spiral appeared to be a galaxy rotating around its supermassive black hole.                     
Wow.

“Home.”

“What the fuck you talking about?  Stop with the cryptic bullshit!  Just tell me what you want to tell me!” 

“No.  HOME.”

The being zoomed in further.  Trent traveled deeper and deeper into the light tunnel, finally stopping. He was staring at Earth from its orbit. 
This…  This is beautiful.  I could stay here forever.  I feel…  Loved?  Is this what real love is?  I think I’ve been doing it wrong.  Let me approach this differently.

“I’m sorry.  I appreciate what you’re trying to do.  I want to do the right thing, but I still need help understanding.”

The being immediately zoomed in further.  They were now in Central Park, watching Ronak fight for his life. 

It’s the most gut-wrenching and visceral emotion to fight for your life.  It’s even worse watching someone else do it.  I wish I could take that away and do it so he doesn’t have to feel that. 

Trent collected himself.  “Why am I here?”

“I am.”  This time the voice sounded less like a cartoon character and more like something comforting.  It now had the German accent of Trent’s father.

“Dad, is that you?  Never mind.  OK, show me again, please.”

They zoomed closer and closer to Ronak, until they were in the submicroscopic realm.  Trent was now looking at a microscopic solar system.  The sun was a nucleus, the planets protons, neutrons, and electrons. 

“I still don’t get it.”

They zoomed further, deep into the smallest realms of possibility, until they were in a black, empty space.  The presence highlighted an infinitely small point. 

“This.”

“I don’t understand.” 
Please just understand how fucking stupid I am.  Are you God?  Are you an alien?  What is this?

“Smallest.”

“What?”

“Singularity.” 
OK, I DO remember what that is from classes back in school.  Wait a second. 
Trent was coming around.