Back to GatefoldIssue #14 by Daniel Ingram
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"THE BLOODY MILE"
Hell’s Peake
Hurricane could barely catch his breath, as he stared down Midnight, the Solution and the creator of this refuge of the damned, Damien Dran.
They were fresh, prepared and rested. Strong, skilled and powerful, with two with blood debts on their ledgers. Hurricane was exhausted, his knuckles torn and bloody. Sweat and blood intermingled up and down his body, to the point that the merc felt as if he’d just stepped out of a pool of filth. And his remaining allies, Hrist and Warcry were little better. They were just as bloodied, beaten and battered as him, having fought their way through one wave of criminals after another.
So Hurricane thought it best to open with a little bit of bravo.
“Little pig, little pig,” Hurricane pumped his shotgun, imagining blowing out the back of Dran’s head, “let me in.”
Dran looked at him and sneered.
“You would do well to remember what happened to the so called, Big Bad Wolf,” said Dran, “when he finally knocked on the wrong God damn door.”
Crap, thought Hurricane.
“We hath torn down thy house and walls,” Hrist observed, with a bloody smile, “I see only piglets before me, waiting for their slaughter.”
“Oh, there’s a butcher’s bill due,” Solution growled, “just give the word, Dran.”
“Like we discussed,” Hurricane said to his fellow mercs.
“The word is given,” Dran said, “try to leave one alive. But, if not, make it painful.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” said Solution.
“Let’s put these fuckers in the ground where they belong,” Hurricane growled.
Both sides screamed in incoherent rage, and surged at one another.
Hurricane saw Midnight activate his bootjets, and came flying at him like a guided missile.
Hurricane only had enough of his reflexes remaining to nail Midnight in the shoulder with a slug from his shotgun before the cyborg rammed into him like a freight train.
The two men went flying, through the air and then plaster walls, before skidding to a stop.
Battlefield instincts had Hurricane on his feet in seconds, and he found himself horrified when he realized he couldn’t see Midnight.
“Something wrong, soldier boy?”
The immediate area was thick with dust, and between that and his wounds, Hurricane couldn’t locate his quarry. He instinctively dressed his back against the wall.
“Come on, tinker toy!” Hurricane shouted, as he scanned for his enemy, “lets settle this like men!”
“What, where you shoot me in the head with that shotgun?”
Try though he might, Hurricane couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from.
“How about I do you a favor, and put you out of your misery.”
A steel fist punched through the wall, and grabbed Hurricane by the throat. Before he even realized what had happened, Hurricane was pulled through the brick and mortar like a rag doll, and was thrown to the floor.
Hurricane rolled to his feet, and only saw his cyborg enemy out of the corner of his eye. He raised his arms across his chest just split second before the metal-man’s knee would have smashed into his chest.
The sheer power was enough to pitch Hurricane through the air like a football, until a steel wall brought him to a crashing halt. The merc saw double, as his foe casually strolled over to him.
“Just give up, man. Look at you! You’re half dead already! Why not just give up?”
The marksman couldn’t feel his legs. His arms felt as if they were on fire. Each and every breath brought only more pain. Hurricane took his combat knife from his shoulder holster, and assumed a fighting stance.
“Because I ain’t dead yet!”
Midnight stalked forward.
“I can fix that.”
Hurricane remained motionless as the cyborg approached. He knew that he’d only have one chance, one shot at this range.
The second Midnight was within reach, he threw the best right hook he could, intending to take off the former hero’s head.
Midnight dodged it with a simple step back, and a turn of his cheek, Hurricane’s knuckles brushing against him.
“Telegraphed that a mile away,” Midnight observed, “you Special Forces guy, you train to kill at a distance.”
Midnight swept his left leg out, and caught Hurricane’s side, cracking several ribs.
“Me? I was trained to fight up close and personal.”
Midnight swung his right elbow into Hurricane’s face, and then snapped a kick at his midsection, while activating a burst from his bootjets.
The kick sent the merc flying through the air, until a wall brought a sudden stop to his flight.
“It’s a little more useful in situations like this.”
oooOooo
Dran gritted his teeth as sonic washed over his body.
“What part of invulnerable don’t you understand?”
Dran swung a fist at Warcry’s head, but she dodged the blow effortlessly.
“You know what resonate frequency is?” Warcry took a gulp of air, and screamed.
Dran found himself blown across the room, smashing into artwork stolen from Hala itself.
“It’s the frequency at which sonic energy shatters an object,” said Warcry, “everyone and everything has one. You’re no different.”
Dran stood up, and brushed off the debris.
“Is that what you think?” he chuckled, “my father was indestructible, and if anything, I’m only more so. But you?”
Dran looked Warcry up and down, her form covered with sweat, blood and bruises.
“You’ve fought your way up here. Impressive, certainly, but just how much strength do you have left?”
Warcry removed four of her last modified shuriken, and took a deep inhale of air.
The shuriken, propelled by her sonic energy, struck Dran at mach one, and a single word struck him like a freight train.
“Enough.”
oooOOoo
Hrist smiled as The Solution’s fist smashed across her face, blew spilling from her nose and mouth.
She was exhausted, no less than her teammates, and The Solution’s abilities had generated him a forcefield that negated her magic, and his strength was equal to hers.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” Solution snarled, hatred etched across his face, “the mimics were better people than me.”
“Aye, they died easier too!” Hrist declared, as she swung both her axes at Solution. He danced backwards, and spun on his heel, his foot slamming across Hrist’s face.
“But you won’t,” Solution hissed, “and I’ll enjoy every God damn second of it!”
Hrist tackled Solution around the waist, toppling them both to the ground.
“Gods don’t die easily, abomination,” Hrist smiled, with a mouth full of blood.
Solution said nothing, instead aiming a punch at her throat, and as the Goddess reeled from that, he drew both feet back, and punted Hrist away.
“God, human, machine, it doesn’t matter,” Solution replied, “my body is the ultimate weapon for killing anything.”
“Know what the key word there is, tinker toy?”
Solution froze, as he recognized the voice. He looked over his shoulder, and saw Andi Hunter standing there, with a mocking grin on her face.
“…how did you get free?” Solution demanded.
“Not even close,” Andi replied, “you think Dran would have kept you around if you could kill him? You think he didn’t know your weakness, or that I couldn’t figure it out?”
Solution clenched his fists, and began stalking towards Andi. This entire fiasco had destroyed every ounce of patience he had remaining, and though he knew he couldn’t, or shouldn’t, kill Hunter, he was more than willing to smack her around.
“The key word, is anyone,” Andi said, “singular.”
An ebony blade lanced towards Solution, who barely saw it coming in time. He leapt backwards, but the blade still grazed his skull, tearing the artificial skin.
“Hello again,” said Shroud, “ready for round two?”
oooOOoo
Hurricane could feel a rib move, and it was dawning on him that he was in even deeper trouble than he ever thought possible.
He’d been taught hand to hand combat from day one in Special forces, but none of his instructors had been a cybernetically enhanced martial artist. Where Midnight fell short in skill, he made up for in strength, and where he lacked for strength, he made up for in skill.
Which was why Hurricane found himself on his hands and knees, with two more loose teeth in his mouth. His chest was covered in cuts and gashes from Midnight’s claws, and he could feel his ribs move in ways they shouldn’t.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t enjoy this,” Midnight grabbed Hurricane by the throat, and then slammed him into the wall, “but if killing you spares me a lifetime of agony from that damned implant? Then into the casket you go.”
Midnight pulled back his free hand, the claws glimmering in the light.
“But I can make this quick.”
“Wait,” Hurricane gasped, “you don’t…have to. We…disabled…the pain devise.”
“Bullshit,” Midnight hissed, “if that were true, why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“Didn’t have a chance,” Hurricane said, “Mr. Raven scrambled the receiver. Andi…she gave him the frequency.”
Midnight hesitated.
Hurricane took his shot.
He spit a mouthful of blood in Midnight’s eyes, and then swung a left hook that dented the metal of Midnight’s skull, whole breaking every finger in Hurricane’s hand.
The right uppercut Hurricane unleashed whipped Midnight’s head backwards, and snapped several wires and cords in the man’s throat.
With his last reserves of energy, Hurricane swung his left fist into the tangles of cords, screaming from the pain of broken bones, unyielding metal and severed electrical cords.
Midnight’s eyes went dark, as his chested was warped inward where Hurricane had struck him. His body spasmed several times, before he fell over limp.
“I’m sorry, kid,” Hurricane braced himself against the wall, “but one thing I did learn as a soldier, and that was the only fair fight was the fight you win.”
oooOOoo
Warcry’s throat was raw, and her legs and arms burned.
She literally couldn’t remember how long she had been fighting. And she couldn’t a time a time when she had screamed this long, this powerful.
Dran came at her swinging, and it took all her concentration to avoid him, while still focusing her sonic scream directly at him.
As the sonic waves bounced harmlessly off him and around the room, they eventually struck Warcry once more, and to her, they were akin to an X-ray. In times past, they gave Warcry a unique insight into how to best attack her foe.
But right now, all her sonar was telling her was the same thing she saw with her very own eyes.
Dran was as invincible as his father.
Warcry summersaulted a dozen feet away from Dran, and took a moment to catch her breath.
“Well?” Dran said, “are you going to kill me with a little ringing in my ears? That may take a lifetime.”
“A…focused blast…right through your eye,” said Warcry, “I’ve blinded…stronger than you with that.”
“They were strong,” said Dran, “me, I’m indestructible. It runs in the family. Much like sonic abilities run in yours.”
“Excuse me?”
Dran’s hand came to rest on the leg of a fallen chair, “Your sister, or didn’t you know?”
Warcry scowled at Dran, “My sister is dead.”
“Is that how you justified leaving her to that ghastly fate?” Dran shook his head, “my resources are considerable, and I am careful who I allow residence. Though, in truth, she might have been better off dead.”
“You…”
Dran whipped the chair suddenly, where it smashed into Warcry’s midsection.
The blow was devastatingly painful, and seemed to bring the entire day’s exertions crashing down on her at once.
“Finally,” Dran rubbed his ear, a futile attempt to address the ringing, “I’m just one snapped neck away from finally ending this damn debacle.”
“Not yet.”
A vibranium machete slashed across Dran’s eye, and though it did no damage, the criminal couldn’t help but flinch and stumble backwards.
Hurricane drew his machete back, and then plunged it right into Dran’s eye. He wasn’t surprised to see that it didn’t do any damage, but no one liked getting poked in the eye, and right now, it was the closest he had to an actual plan.
Were the others even still alive?
oooOOoo
Solution went livid as he saw Shroud moving towards him.
“You shadow bastard, I killed you!”
“Tibetan meditative technique,” replied Shroud, “not something I wanted to use, but you left me no choice. You didn’t kill me, but you came close.”
The Shroud concentrated and formed sword of darkforce
“Now, I make you wish you had.”
“I took you down once, and I can do it again,” Solution growled. His body began to glow with the same energy he’d used only hours ago to dispel Shroud’s darkforce, “only this time, I’ll tear your damn head off!”
“Mayhaps, were he alone.”
Hrist grabbed Solution underneath his arms. The android began to panic, as he felt his powers shift and change.
Hrist began to apply pressure, and Solution’s abilities instinctively fighting back.
Shroud sensed his moment, and swung his sword for Solution’s throat
“You…-clik-…you…-clik-…”
Andi watched with no small amount of satisfaction as the smug android she’d had to tolerate for years, fell forward in two important pieces.
“So this is why Thor prefers you fleas,” Hrist took a step forward, and placed her boot atop Solution’s skull, “I will admit, you have thy uses.”
“Don’t get cocky,” Shroud said, “we have two left. Where’s Hurricane?”
“Duck!”
Hurricane’s unconscious body sailed across the room, before he smashed into a custom glass table made by Baddoon artisans.
“Oh no,” Andi rushed to the merc’s side, and then shouted over her back, “watch out for Midnight!”
“T’was not Midnight that did this,” Hrist nodded towards the approaching warrior.
Dran was shirtless, his chest heaving in anger.
“What part of indestructible do you fools not understand?” Dran hissed.
“There be limits to everything,” Hrist said, a battle axe in each hand.
She charged at Dran, with a roar that would do any predator proud.
And Dran casually smacked her aside.
“Lets see how you do against someone who is a little fresher,” Shroud threw back his cloak, and several spikes of dark force shot out, slamming into Dran. The extra dimensional energy hit the criminal like a freight train, but he dug in his heels, and only found himself forced back several feet.
“The Hulk has his rage, the Captain his flag,” Dran stomped towards Shroud, sweat now beading down the blind man’s face, “and my family? We are indestructible.”
A veritable flood of darkforce was deluging past Shroud’s cloak now, but the man inched closer and closer.
“My son will be even greater still,” Dran reached a hand out, slowing moving to snap Shroud’s neck, “but none of you will see it.”
“Probably not.”
-crak!-
Dran was baffled as he suddenly found himself thrown to the side, and he felt a strange, ringing sensation in his head.
“But you won’t either.”
Dran looked up, and saw Hurricane holding the amputated arm of Solution like a caveman’s club.
“Because I have…,” Hurricane’s words trailed off, when he saw that Dran was utterly dumbfounded. He’d just run his hand through his hair, and was baffled to see them stained by crimson.
“…this hurts…” Dran said, in utter disbelief, “…this is pain…”
Hurricane hesitated, as he realized that brutality of what he was about to do.
This was no bullet to the head, no swift drag of a knife across the throat. This was the definition of brutal, primal, animalistic.
More than that, it went against his code. There would always been too much blood on his hands to ever come clean, but Hurricane didn’t want his honor to sink even deeper into the mire of this life.
“…you hurt me…”
But then he remembered Scorpion.
And Flashblade.
And Mr. Raven.
And the ocean of blood they had spilled, all to get here, to get to now.
This, their one and only shot.
Hurricane pulled his arm back.
“I didn’t ask…for this…”
Crak!
Blood flew. Bone cracked.
“…please, I’ll surrender…”
Hurricane knew dying men would say anything. He pulled his arm back.
Crak!
Dran’s face was a mask of blood, his left eye was milky white, and a thin line of drool slid down his cheek.
“…I just wanted…a home.”
Hurricane was well past exhausted, but gathered all his strength for one final swing, and Dran’s head collapsed like a rotted pumpkin.
For a moment that seemed to stretch forever, Hurricane stood there, gripping the limb of a dismembered foe, sunken into the skull of another. Too exhausted to pass out, to spent to move.
And then the building shook, a series of explosions rattling everything down to the foundations.
“Oh shit,” Hurricane muttered, “what now?”
“That would be scavengers come to pick the corpse,” Andi Hunter said, “without Dran, anything left here for safekeeping has become free game.”
Warcry limped towards Andi Hunter, “Are you kidding me? His corpse isn’t even cold!”
“They’ve been sniffing around for days now,” said Andi, “in the past, Dran only had to threaten to call in a favor. When they don’t hear from him in the next few minutes, things are really going to get interesting.”
“Are they going to come for us?” said Shroud.
“Let us hope so,” Hrist muttered, “this is twice now I’ve survived an onslaught! Mayhaps this third time is indeed the charm…”
“I don’t care to find out,” said Hunter. She went to Hurricane, and placed his arm over her shoulder, “Dran has a teleporter and a safehouse already prepped, in case the Avengers or Excalibur finally came for him. Anyone who wants to live, follow me.”
Hurricane looked at the corpse, and the blood on his hands.
“Mind if I join you anyways?”
oooOOoo
Several hours later
Warcry had no idea what part of the world they were in, nor did she much care.
It was night when they arrived, and according to Hunter, they had the entire floor to themselves. The staff took orders for clothes, food and offers for a weapons locker for their tools.
Though her body yearned for rest, Warcry had a primal need to wash the blood and filth from her body.
But now that the battle was over, the adrenaline had fled her body, and she began to slow. The African warrior moved in slow motion, her body screaming in protest louder than she ever could.
Her gloves, tonfas, knives, belt, all fell to the floor as she made her way to the bathroom. She had barely managed to get all her clothes off by the time she reached the shower.
She turned the knob as high as she could, the scalding water both a physical cleansing and welcome distraction from the thoughts pounding in her head.
Her sister was alive.
Her sister.
Was alive.
Warcry knew what General Tier had killed her family. But her escape had been a near thing, as was her survival.
The path to vengeance was long and bloody, and most of all, straight. Looking back was a luxury she never afforded herself.
But she had fears, and in the bush, on the small bloody missions on which she started her rep, Warcry had heard whispers of someone like her. And Dran’s taunts were too confident, too cocky. A man of his power was not one for falsehoods.
Warcry crawled into the corner of the shower stall, and began to sob.
The family she had fought to avenge, the one she loved most, the biggest wound in her heart, was the one she had left to rot.
Warcry gripped the sides of her head, rocking back and forth as screamed without making a sound.
oooOOoo
Hell’s Peake
Brandon Kane looked at his watch.
It was a nervous habit, a childish tick he picked up as a kid, and never outgrew.
It was only a matter of time before Excalibur, AIM, Shield, Hydra or someone else came to pick the bones of Hell’s Peake. It was just luck that he and his men were the first.
They had a limited window before their luck became a feeding frenzy. He knew full well their window could be an hour, ten minutes or ten seconds, and they had no way of knowing.
But his superiors would have him executed, slowly, if he didn’t at least try to get one bite of the apple.
“Sir!”
Kane prayed for a split second, for good news.
“We found someone,” said the Squad leader, “barely alive, we think it was one of the mercs!”
Kane didn’t know what to make of his luck, or how his bosses would regard it, but at least he had something that they could salvage.
oooOOoo
Hurricane took a beer from the mini-bar, and then plopped down in front of the television.
It was an odd thing to be grateful for, but Hurricane found himself grateful for streaming services. They were about the only constant he had in his life anymore, save for violence.
Junk streaming was the closest thing he had to a friend.
Hurricane was still trying to decide what to watch, when Andi Hunter entered.
Hurricane looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “I’d understand if you want to kill and or threaten me, could you wait until after I decide on a show?”
Andi plopped down beside Hurricane, a bottle of water in one hand, “Waiting that long would kill the dramatic tension. And I don’t intend to do either.”
“So why are you here?”
“Here, sitting next to the man who murdered my twin sister?”
“Well, I didn’t mean why as to your purpose in life,” Hurricane replied, “also, not cool trying to add some dramatic tension, right before I watch Stranger Things.”
“I’m here, to say ‘Thank you’,” Andi said, then paused, “in the passive aggressive way of all soldiers.”
“You’re welcome, you bitch,” Hurricane replied, “I’ll take my reward in the form of fuzzy memories, and an utter lack of ideas where I might be heading during your debrief.”
“It could be more than that,” Andi said softly.
Hurricane looked at Andi, confused.
“I got a lot from Dran,” Andi’s hand went to her stomach, “more than just the passenger, obviously. He had connections all over the world, so much so that just the scraps I could smuggle out had my bosses drooling.”
“Dran operated a safety deposit box some of the worst and most powerful,” said Hurricane, “bet he had some juicy secrets.”
“He did, and they’re on a private server only I have access to,” said Andi.
“Good for you, can I binge please?” Hurricane said, “this is spy stuff, and I’m a soldier.”
“You’re a mercenary, and criminal,” Andi replied, “but you don’t have to be.”
Hurricane sat his beer down.
“Excuse me?”
Andi tapped her head, “I’ve got some secrets that a dozen intelligence agencies would kill for. A retirement package is the least of what I intend to leverage it for, but there’s a lot more I could get for it. Like a pardon.”
“That’s not funny,” Hurricane said softly.
“It’s not, but I still said it,” Andi replied.
“I killed innocent soldiers,” Hurricane said softly. No matter how much time had passed, the wound on his spirit still ached, “your sister included.”
“You did,” Andi said, “but you also fought a legion of super criminals to save my life. I think that earns a little consideration. You can stop running, you don’t have to be a criminal anymore…”
“So, Hurricane, what are you going to do now?”
The End?
Hurricane could barely catch his breath, as he stared down Midnight, the Solution and the creator of this refuge of the damned, Damien Dran.
They were fresh, prepared and rested. Strong, skilled and powerful, with two with blood debts on their ledgers. Hurricane was exhausted, his knuckles torn and bloody. Sweat and blood intermingled up and down his body, to the point that the merc felt as if he’d just stepped out of a pool of filth. And his remaining allies, Hrist and Warcry were little better. They were just as bloodied, beaten and battered as him, having fought their way through one wave of criminals after another.
So Hurricane thought it best to open with a little bit of bravo.
“Little pig, little pig,” Hurricane pumped his shotgun, imagining blowing out the back of Dran’s head, “let me in.”
Dran looked at him and sneered.
“You would do well to remember what happened to the so called, Big Bad Wolf,” said Dran, “when he finally knocked on the wrong God damn door.”
Crap, thought Hurricane.
“We hath torn down thy house and walls,” Hrist observed, with a bloody smile, “I see only piglets before me, waiting for their slaughter.”
“Oh, there’s a butcher’s bill due,” Solution growled, “just give the word, Dran.”
“Like we discussed,” Hurricane said to his fellow mercs.
“The word is given,” Dran said, “try to leave one alive. But, if not, make it painful.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” said Solution.
“Let’s put these fuckers in the ground where they belong,” Hurricane growled.
Both sides screamed in incoherent rage, and surged at one another.
Hurricane saw Midnight activate his bootjets, and came flying at him like a guided missile.
Hurricane only had enough of his reflexes remaining to nail Midnight in the shoulder with a slug from his shotgun before the cyborg rammed into him like a freight train.
The two men went flying, through the air and then plaster walls, before skidding to a stop.
Battlefield instincts had Hurricane on his feet in seconds, and he found himself horrified when he realized he couldn’t see Midnight.
“Something wrong, soldier boy?”
The immediate area was thick with dust, and between that and his wounds, Hurricane couldn’t locate his quarry. He instinctively dressed his back against the wall.
“Come on, tinker toy!” Hurricane shouted, as he scanned for his enemy, “lets settle this like men!”
“What, where you shoot me in the head with that shotgun?”
Try though he might, Hurricane couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from.
“How about I do you a favor, and put you out of your misery.”
A steel fist punched through the wall, and grabbed Hurricane by the throat. Before he even realized what had happened, Hurricane was pulled through the brick and mortar like a rag doll, and was thrown to the floor.
Hurricane rolled to his feet, and only saw his cyborg enemy out of the corner of his eye. He raised his arms across his chest just split second before the metal-man’s knee would have smashed into his chest.
The sheer power was enough to pitch Hurricane through the air like a football, until a steel wall brought him to a crashing halt. The merc saw double, as his foe casually strolled over to him.
“Just give up, man. Look at you! You’re half dead already! Why not just give up?”
The marksman couldn’t feel his legs. His arms felt as if they were on fire. Each and every breath brought only more pain. Hurricane took his combat knife from his shoulder holster, and assumed a fighting stance.
“Because I ain’t dead yet!”
Midnight stalked forward.
“I can fix that.”
Hurricane remained motionless as the cyborg approached. He knew that he’d only have one chance, one shot at this range.
The second Midnight was within reach, he threw the best right hook he could, intending to take off the former hero’s head.
Midnight dodged it with a simple step back, and a turn of his cheek, Hurricane’s knuckles brushing against him.
“Telegraphed that a mile away,” Midnight observed, “you Special Forces guy, you train to kill at a distance.”
Midnight swept his left leg out, and caught Hurricane’s side, cracking several ribs.
“Me? I was trained to fight up close and personal.”
Midnight swung his right elbow into Hurricane’s face, and then snapped a kick at his midsection, while activating a burst from his bootjets.
The kick sent the merc flying through the air, until a wall brought a sudden stop to his flight.
“It’s a little more useful in situations like this.”
oooOooo
Dran gritted his teeth as sonic washed over his body.
“What part of invulnerable don’t you understand?”
Dran swung a fist at Warcry’s head, but she dodged the blow effortlessly.
“You know what resonate frequency is?” Warcry took a gulp of air, and screamed.
Dran found himself blown across the room, smashing into artwork stolen from Hala itself.
“It’s the frequency at which sonic energy shatters an object,” said Warcry, “everyone and everything has one. You’re no different.”
Dran stood up, and brushed off the debris.
“Is that what you think?” he chuckled, “my father was indestructible, and if anything, I’m only more so. But you?”
Dran looked Warcry up and down, her form covered with sweat, blood and bruises.
“You’ve fought your way up here. Impressive, certainly, but just how much strength do you have left?”
Warcry removed four of her last modified shuriken, and took a deep inhale of air.
The shuriken, propelled by her sonic energy, struck Dran at mach one, and a single word struck him like a freight train.
“Enough.”
oooOOoo
Hrist smiled as The Solution’s fist smashed across her face, blew spilling from her nose and mouth.
She was exhausted, no less than her teammates, and The Solution’s abilities had generated him a forcefield that negated her magic, and his strength was equal to hers.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” Solution snarled, hatred etched across his face, “the mimics were better people than me.”
“Aye, they died easier too!” Hrist declared, as she swung both her axes at Solution. He danced backwards, and spun on his heel, his foot slamming across Hrist’s face.
“But you won’t,” Solution hissed, “and I’ll enjoy every God damn second of it!”
Hrist tackled Solution around the waist, toppling them both to the ground.
“Gods don’t die easily, abomination,” Hrist smiled, with a mouth full of blood.
Solution said nothing, instead aiming a punch at her throat, and as the Goddess reeled from that, he drew both feet back, and punted Hrist away.
“God, human, machine, it doesn’t matter,” Solution replied, “my body is the ultimate weapon for killing anything.”
“Know what the key word there is, tinker toy?”
Solution froze, as he recognized the voice. He looked over his shoulder, and saw Andi Hunter standing there, with a mocking grin on her face.
“…how did you get free?” Solution demanded.
“Not even close,” Andi replied, “you think Dran would have kept you around if you could kill him? You think he didn’t know your weakness, or that I couldn’t figure it out?”
Solution clenched his fists, and began stalking towards Andi. This entire fiasco had destroyed every ounce of patience he had remaining, and though he knew he couldn’t, or shouldn’t, kill Hunter, he was more than willing to smack her around.
“The key word, is anyone,” Andi said, “singular.”
An ebony blade lanced towards Solution, who barely saw it coming in time. He leapt backwards, but the blade still grazed his skull, tearing the artificial skin.
“Hello again,” said Shroud, “ready for round two?”
oooOOoo
Hurricane could feel a rib move, and it was dawning on him that he was in even deeper trouble than he ever thought possible.
He’d been taught hand to hand combat from day one in Special forces, but none of his instructors had been a cybernetically enhanced martial artist. Where Midnight fell short in skill, he made up for in strength, and where he lacked for strength, he made up for in skill.
Which was why Hurricane found himself on his hands and knees, with two more loose teeth in his mouth. His chest was covered in cuts and gashes from Midnight’s claws, and he could feel his ribs move in ways they shouldn’t.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t enjoy this,” Midnight grabbed Hurricane by the throat, and then slammed him into the wall, “but if killing you spares me a lifetime of agony from that damned implant? Then into the casket you go.”
Midnight pulled back his free hand, the claws glimmering in the light.
“But I can make this quick.”
“Wait,” Hurricane gasped, “you don’t…have to. We…disabled…the pain devise.”
“Bullshit,” Midnight hissed, “if that were true, why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“Didn’t have a chance,” Hurricane said, “Mr. Raven scrambled the receiver. Andi…she gave him the frequency.”
Midnight hesitated.
Hurricane took his shot.
He spit a mouthful of blood in Midnight’s eyes, and then swung a left hook that dented the metal of Midnight’s skull, whole breaking every finger in Hurricane’s hand.
The right uppercut Hurricane unleashed whipped Midnight’s head backwards, and snapped several wires and cords in the man’s throat.
With his last reserves of energy, Hurricane swung his left fist into the tangles of cords, screaming from the pain of broken bones, unyielding metal and severed electrical cords.
Midnight’s eyes went dark, as his chested was warped inward where Hurricane had struck him. His body spasmed several times, before he fell over limp.
“I’m sorry, kid,” Hurricane braced himself against the wall, “but one thing I did learn as a soldier, and that was the only fair fight was the fight you win.”
oooOOoo
Warcry’s throat was raw, and her legs and arms burned.
She literally couldn’t remember how long she had been fighting. And she couldn’t a time a time when she had screamed this long, this powerful.
Dran came at her swinging, and it took all her concentration to avoid him, while still focusing her sonic scream directly at him.
As the sonic waves bounced harmlessly off him and around the room, they eventually struck Warcry once more, and to her, they were akin to an X-ray. In times past, they gave Warcry a unique insight into how to best attack her foe.
But right now, all her sonar was telling her was the same thing she saw with her very own eyes.
Dran was as invincible as his father.
Warcry summersaulted a dozen feet away from Dran, and took a moment to catch her breath.
“Well?” Dran said, “are you going to kill me with a little ringing in my ears? That may take a lifetime.”
“A…focused blast…right through your eye,” said Warcry, “I’ve blinded…stronger than you with that.”
“They were strong,” said Dran, “me, I’m indestructible. It runs in the family. Much like sonic abilities run in yours.”
“Excuse me?”
Dran’s hand came to rest on the leg of a fallen chair, “Your sister, or didn’t you know?”
Warcry scowled at Dran, “My sister is dead.”
“Is that how you justified leaving her to that ghastly fate?” Dran shook his head, “my resources are considerable, and I am careful who I allow residence. Though, in truth, she might have been better off dead.”
“You…”
Dran whipped the chair suddenly, where it smashed into Warcry’s midsection.
The blow was devastatingly painful, and seemed to bring the entire day’s exertions crashing down on her at once.
“Finally,” Dran rubbed his ear, a futile attempt to address the ringing, “I’m just one snapped neck away from finally ending this damn debacle.”
“Not yet.”
A vibranium machete slashed across Dran’s eye, and though it did no damage, the criminal couldn’t help but flinch and stumble backwards.
Hurricane drew his machete back, and then plunged it right into Dran’s eye. He wasn’t surprised to see that it didn’t do any damage, but no one liked getting poked in the eye, and right now, it was the closest he had to an actual plan.
Were the others even still alive?
oooOOoo
Solution went livid as he saw Shroud moving towards him.
“You shadow bastard, I killed you!”
“Tibetan meditative technique,” replied Shroud, “not something I wanted to use, but you left me no choice. You didn’t kill me, but you came close.”
The Shroud concentrated and formed sword of darkforce
“Now, I make you wish you had.”
“I took you down once, and I can do it again,” Solution growled. His body began to glow with the same energy he’d used only hours ago to dispel Shroud’s darkforce, “only this time, I’ll tear your damn head off!”
“Mayhaps, were he alone.”
Hrist grabbed Solution underneath his arms. The android began to panic, as he felt his powers shift and change.
Hrist began to apply pressure, and Solution’s abilities instinctively fighting back.
Shroud sensed his moment, and swung his sword for Solution’s throat
“You…-clik-…you…-clik-…”
Andi watched with no small amount of satisfaction as the smug android she’d had to tolerate for years, fell forward in two important pieces.
“So this is why Thor prefers you fleas,” Hrist took a step forward, and placed her boot atop Solution’s skull, “I will admit, you have thy uses.”
“Don’t get cocky,” Shroud said, “we have two left. Where’s Hurricane?”
“Duck!”
Hurricane’s unconscious body sailed across the room, before he smashed into a custom glass table made by Baddoon artisans.
“Oh no,” Andi rushed to the merc’s side, and then shouted over her back, “watch out for Midnight!”
“T’was not Midnight that did this,” Hrist nodded towards the approaching warrior.
Dran was shirtless, his chest heaving in anger.
“What part of indestructible do you fools not understand?” Dran hissed.
“There be limits to everything,” Hrist said, a battle axe in each hand.
She charged at Dran, with a roar that would do any predator proud.
And Dran casually smacked her aside.
“Lets see how you do against someone who is a little fresher,” Shroud threw back his cloak, and several spikes of dark force shot out, slamming into Dran. The extra dimensional energy hit the criminal like a freight train, but he dug in his heels, and only found himself forced back several feet.
“The Hulk has his rage, the Captain his flag,” Dran stomped towards Shroud, sweat now beading down the blind man’s face, “and my family? We are indestructible.”
A veritable flood of darkforce was deluging past Shroud’s cloak now, but the man inched closer and closer.
“My son will be even greater still,” Dran reached a hand out, slowing moving to snap Shroud’s neck, “but none of you will see it.”
“Probably not.”
-crak!-
Dran was baffled as he suddenly found himself thrown to the side, and he felt a strange, ringing sensation in his head.
“But you won’t either.”
Dran looked up, and saw Hurricane holding the amputated arm of Solution like a caveman’s club.
“Because I have…,” Hurricane’s words trailed off, when he saw that Dran was utterly dumbfounded. He’d just run his hand through his hair, and was baffled to see them stained by crimson.
“…this hurts…” Dran said, in utter disbelief, “…this is pain…”
Hurricane hesitated, as he realized that brutality of what he was about to do.
This was no bullet to the head, no swift drag of a knife across the throat. This was the definition of brutal, primal, animalistic.
More than that, it went against his code. There would always been too much blood on his hands to ever come clean, but Hurricane didn’t want his honor to sink even deeper into the mire of this life.
“…you hurt me…”
But then he remembered Scorpion.
And Flashblade.
And Mr. Raven.
And the ocean of blood they had spilled, all to get here, to get to now.
This, their one and only shot.
Hurricane pulled his arm back.
“I didn’t ask…for this…”
Crak!
Blood flew. Bone cracked.
“…please, I’ll surrender…”
Hurricane knew dying men would say anything. He pulled his arm back.
Crak!
Dran’s face was a mask of blood, his left eye was milky white, and a thin line of drool slid down his cheek.
“…I just wanted…a home.”
Hurricane was well past exhausted, but gathered all his strength for one final swing, and Dran’s head collapsed like a rotted pumpkin.
For a moment that seemed to stretch forever, Hurricane stood there, gripping the limb of a dismembered foe, sunken into the skull of another. Too exhausted to pass out, to spent to move.
And then the building shook, a series of explosions rattling everything down to the foundations.
“Oh shit,” Hurricane muttered, “what now?”
“That would be scavengers come to pick the corpse,” Andi Hunter said, “without Dran, anything left here for safekeeping has become free game.”
Warcry limped towards Andi Hunter, “Are you kidding me? His corpse isn’t even cold!”
“They’ve been sniffing around for days now,” said Andi, “in the past, Dran only had to threaten to call in a favor. When they don’t hear from him in the next few minutes, things are really going to get interesting.”
“Are they going to come for us?” said Shroud.
“Let us hope so,” Hrist muttered, “this is twice now I’ve survived an onslaught! Mayhaps this third time is indeed the charm…”
“I don’t care to find out,” said Hunter. She went to Hurricane, and placed his arm over her shoulder, “Dran has a teleporter and a safehouse already prepped, in case the Avengers or Excalibur finally came for him. Anyone who wants to live, follow me.”
Hurricane looked at the corpse, and the blood on his hands.
“Mind if I join you anyways?”
oooOOoo
Several hours later
Warcry had no idea what part of the world they were in, nor did she much care.
It was night when they arrived, and according to Hunter, they had the entire floor to themselves. The staff took orders for clothes, food and offers for a weapons locker for their tools.
Though her body yearned for rest, Warcry had a primal need to wash the blood and filth from her body.
But now that the battle was over, the adrenaline had fled her body, and she began to slow. The African warrior moved in slow motion, her body screaming in protest louder than she ever could.
Her gloves, tonfas, knives, belt, all fell to the floor as she made her way to the bathroom. She had barely managed to get all her clothes off by the time she reached the shower.
She turned the knob as high as she could, the scalding water both a physical cleansing and welcome distraction from the thoughts pounding in her head.
Her sister was alive.
Her sister.
Was alive.
Warcry knew what General Tier had killed her family. But her escape had been a near thing, as was her survival.
The path to vengeance was long and bloody, and most of all, straight. Looking back was a luxury she never afforded herself.
But she had fears, and in the bush, on the small bloody missions on which she started her rep, Warcry had heard whispers of someone like her. And Dran’s taunts were too confident, too cocky. A man of his power was not one for falsehoods.
Warcry crawled into the corner of the shower stall, and began to sob.
The family she had fought to avenge, the one she loved most, the biggest wound in her heart, was the one she had left to rot.
Warcry gripped the sides of her head, rocking back and forth as screamed without making a sound.
oooOOoo
Hell’s Peake
Brandon Kane looked at his watch.
It was a nervous habit, a childish tick he picked up as a kid, and never outgrew.
It was only a matter of time before Excalibur, AIM, Shield, Hydra or someone else came to pick the bones of Hell’s Peake. It was just luck that he and his men were the first.
They had a limited window before their luck became a feeding frenzy. He knew full well their window could be an hour, ten minutes or ten seconds, and they had no way of knowing.
But his superiors would have him executed, slowly, if he didn’t at least try to get one bite of the apple.
“Sir!”
Kane prayed for a split second, for good news.
“We found someone,” said the Squad leader, “barely alive, we think it was one of the mercs!”
Kane didn’t know what to make of his luck, or how his bosses would regard it, but at least he had something that they could salvage.
oooOOoo
Hurricane took a beer from the mini-bar, and then plopped down in front of the television.
It was an odd thing to be grateful for, but Hurricane found himself grateful for streaming services. They were about the only constant he had in his life anymore, save for violence.
Junk streaming was the closest thing he had to a friend.
Hurricane was still trying to decide what to watch, when Andi Hunter entered.
Hurricane looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “I’d understand if you want to kill and or threaten me, could you wait until after I decide on a show?”
Andi plopped down beside Hurricane, a bottle of water in one hand, “Waiting that long would kill the dramatic tension. And I don’t intend to do either.”
“So why are you here?”
“Here, sitting next to the man who murdered my twin sister?”
“Well, I didn’t mean why as to your purpose in life,” Hurricane replied, “also, not cool trying to add some dramatic tension, right before I watch Stranger Things.”
“I’m here, to say ‘Thank you’,” Andi said, then paused, “in the passive aggressive way of all soldiers.”
“You’re welcome, you bitch,” Hurricane replied, “I’ll take my reward in the form of fuzzy memories, and an utter lack of ideas where I might be heading during your debrief.”
“It could be more than that,” Andi said softly.
Hurricane looked at Andi, confused.
“I got a lot from Dran,” Andi’s hand went to her stomach, “more than just the passenger, obviously. He had connections all over the world, so much so that just the scraps I could smuggle out had my bosses drooling.”
“Dran operated a safety deposit box some of the worst and most powerful,” said Hurricane, “bet he had some juicy secrets.”
“He did, and they’re on a private server only I have access to,” said Andi.
“Good for you, can I binge please?” Hurricane said, “this is spy stuff, and I’m a soldier.”
“You’re a mercenary, and criminal,” Andi replied, “but you don’t have to be.”
Hurricane sat his beer down.
“Excuse me?”
Andi tapped her head, “I’ve got some secrets that a dozen intelligence agencies would kill for. A retirement package is the least of what I intend to leverage it for, but there’s a lot more I could get for it. Like a pardon.”
“That’s not funny,” Hurricane said softly.
“It’s not, but I still said it,” Andi replied.
“I killed innocent soldiers,” Hurricane said softly. No matter how much time had passed, the wound on his spirit still ached, “your sister included.”
“You did,” Andi said, “but you also fought a legion of super criminals to save my life. I think that earns a little consideration. You can stop running, you don’t have to be a criminal anymore…”
“So, Hurricane, what are you going to do now?”
The End?