Intended Extinction (36 page)

Celement watched
the computer monitor with distaste.

Slate’s cornered,
he thought.
Repik better realize my sacrifice in finding this brat.

“Hey, ‘screw-eye’!” shouted a bound Justin, squirming in the back corner. “You’re fuggin’ dead-oh, you bozo!”

“Shut up, you little wretch!”

“Oooh,” continued Justin, pretending to cry, “I’m so-ooo s-scared of you. Oh, please, oh, please, Mr. Celement. Let me go! Wah, wah,
wah
!”

Celement got up from the communications desk and slammed his boot into Justin’s gut. The previous pains of the day returned and Justin nearly blacked out.

“When I tell you to be quiet,” the deranged man said, flicking out a combat knife, “you
be
quiet
.”

Without warning, Celement took the knife and ripped a part of Justin’s forearm open. The boy screamed in pain, but could do nothing as the blood drained from his wound.

Celement licked his lips, watching the red ink trickle.

“Now,” said the cockeyed man, going back to the desk. “Your ten minutes are almost up. It looks like your friends have abandoned you.”

Celement knew they would never be able to make it in time. But the manic desire to watch people suffer pushed him to have a little fun.

Justin groaned as he tried to position himself into a kneeling stance. The destruction within his abdomen pulsed with the heat of a burning kiln. He knew Tara wouldn’t leave him to be killed. He viewed Celement as nothing more than one of Repik’s toads, trying to scare him into thinking he was deserted. Someone would come. Someone
had
to come.

“Has anyone ever told you,” struggled Justin, wincing with each word, “you look like a dead rat. Ugly as hell.”

Celement turned his head.

“You have no idea how much I can hurt you without killing you,” he said, going back to work on the boy.

Justin continued to mock his captor. Fear surged within his body, but after everything he had been through in the last month, he was ready to be done with it all.

Just as Celement was about to plunge the knife into Justin’s eye, the door whooshed open and a lightning hot bullet struck Celement in the shoulder. The cockeyed man fell against the nearby wall, whimpering and clutching his wound.

Justin opened his eyes and found his savior standing in the threshold.

“Well,” shouted the boy, “it’s about time!”

I was
lost. The floor had fallen out from under me. Darkness and a chattering insomnia took hold of my brain.

Bollis blabbered indistinctly. Tara and Vexin couldn’t take their eyes off of Slate. Every single moment of pain we had experienced for the last five years had come from the psychopath standing in front of us.

Edge was manmade.

Bollis combined our thoughts for us and came to Slate with the single word that summed up our dying minds.

“Why?” His plea for an answer was almost depressing. His hatred had turned to dithering pity.

“You would never understand.”

“You . . .” said Vexin, losing himself. “ . . .
Kyla
.”

Slate held his gaze upon Vexin for a moment, then sighed and impatiently looked at the progress of his download.

“You killed
billions
,” quivered Tara.

Finally, Slate became hostile. Something had upset him on the monitor.

“You know nothing of my purpose!” he snapped. “This world was poisoned by media, political corruption, and degenerates unwilling to make a difference. I wasn’t going to stand by and watch the planet burn because of greedy men and hopeless beings incapable of accomplishing a
nything
!”

“So killing everyone was your answer?!” I blared.

“Think of it more as retribution,” he hissed. “Those who died were holding back the rest of us from reaching our true potential. ”

“No,” I said, “I’ll think of it as murder, you twisted bastard.”

“Every civilization has to end, Mark,” he continued. “The leaders of this world were blinded by their own desires of gratification. If Edge hadn’t intervened, war would have.”

“What happened to you?” asked Tara. “Why are you like this? How could you murder innocent
children
and whole continents?”

“There is a change coming,” he gloated, calming down. “An awakening of enlightenment and true progress. No longer will we be held back by the chains of government and the absence of hard work.” He was staring into space, consumed by his own convoluted dream.

“You’re insane,” concluded Bollis.

“Once the final bodies fall,” said Slate, “the Sterile Communities will be released, and the planet will become anew.”

“The Steriles?” I asked.

Finally, Slate made eye contact with me.

“They are the talented, the capable, and the blessed. They are the generation who will ascend the human race to become deity.”

“You don’t give a shit about any of those people,” said Tara. “You’re creating a kingdom for yourself and yourself only. Don’t try to make yourself feel better by saying you’ve
‘saved’
the planet. You’re pathetic—an abomination. You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to this planet.”

Slate craned his neck back, enjoying Tara’s outburst. There was nothing to be said. Slate was a fanatic. His cause was forever imprinted on the back of his eyes. The truth would eternally scald my soul, but there was no use trying to make sense of it. This conversation was over.

I grabbed Tara’s arm and pulled her into the back corner.

I lowered my voice. “We need to find a way out of here.
Now
.”

She looked back to Slate, and then turned to me. “The windows?”

I shook my head. “Maybe there’s a way to turn off this shield from our end.”

“You can’t stop me, Mark,” called Slate, walking to his monitor and swiping a number of items on the screen. “In a few moments, the entire world will know about Jonas Repik’s ‘betrayal’ and my subsequent resurrection. Things will be set right once again.”

“For years we trusted you—befriended you. I looked up to you,” Bollis was spiraling. “How can you just disregard all of that?”

Slate finished collecting his data and shut down the monitor.

“Allow me to demonstrate how meaningless you truly are,” he said, snatching a thumb-sized device from his hip pouch.

He brought the communicator to his mouth and began to speak.

“Celia, my dear” he said.

Genesis came alive. The four of us approached the barrier, but could only watch like caged animals.

“Who’s this? Vane? Is that you?” she asked.

Hearing her young voice knotted my stomach. Tara’s eyes began to fill with tears.

Behind his metal mask, Slate imitated Vane’s raspy voice.

“Yes. We’re all okay. We’ve got Repik.”

“What?! Tell me everything! Is he talking?!”

We were afraid to shout or do anything, knowing we might unintentionally cause Slate to kill her. But I don’t think he was going to spare her either way.

“Celia,” continued Slate, “we need an access code to Repik’s AI. I created a safe file for it before all this happened. The file is called ‘Repik AI’.”

“Okay, looking for it now. God, I’m glad you’re all safe. I spoke with Justin not too long ago, but his channel was cut off. Is he with you now?”

I closed my eyes and began praying. It was the first time in ten years or so. If there were a God, I would never ask for something more in my life than to stop this from happening.

“Yes. He is. Did you find the file?”

Celia hummed for a moment. Slate still wore the same expressionless face.

“Okay! I found it. Why is it encrypted?”

Slate stepped forward, inches away from the shield and held out the receiver.

“Goodbye, Celia.”

“No!” Tara screamed.

Out of the receiver came the sound of a muffled explosion. Everything went to white noise.

The four of us imploded, having to restrain all of our anger. Bollis fell against a bookcase, bewildered. Vexin held his stance, burning holes into the ground. I rested my elbows onto the glass table and ran my fingers through my hair. I think I was in shock, but I couldn’t tell.

Slate threw the receiver to the ground and started walking away.

I couldn’t contain the rage and thrashed the table while screaming. I pounded the glass with my fists and shattered the top, collapsing the equipment thereon.

“Archturus?” came a totally different voice from the intercom system. “Archturus, I know you’re in there.”

Slate stopped at the threshold of the office. The rest of us tilted our heads upward.

The voice laughed. “Archturus, you’re surrounded. It’s over. It was a nice try, but it’s over.”

“It’s Repik,” said Bollis, readying his ELBR.

Maybe we had our chance. This could be our ticket out of here. We had to be ready for anything.

“You’re bluffing, Jonas,” returned Slate.

“I don’t care what you think, Slate,” said Repik in his dreary, sneering voice. “I just want you dead.”

“Then kill me!” Slate shouted, spreading his arms. “Turn on the news, Jonas! Look what I’ve done!”

There was a short pause in their conversation.

“We control the news, Archturus. While I’m still alive, nothing you do is going to work.”

“Jonas,” finished Slate, “it’s a shame you and I could never see eye to eye.”

All of the sudden, there was a large explosion at the far end of the hallway. The first set of double doors flew to either side and smoke clogged the rest of the corridor.

Repik wasn’t bluffing.

“You’ve always been incredible at making mistakes, my friend!” shouted Slate before taking a small sphere from one of his pouches and dashing it to the floor.

Rays as bright as the sun blinded our eyes and knocked us back. A clatter of gunfire came from the hallway. People started yelling indistinctly. Glass shattered and a gush of cold air swept through the office.

“Dodge! Justin!”

I rubbed my eyes once more. The blinding whiteness began to decrease, becoming small flashes with each blink. My head throbbed and the room bounced with each inner pulse.

“Here.” Vexin offered me a hand.

Once my eyes refocused, I caught sight of the living dead. Dodge was indeed standing before us, clutching his M580, speaking with the others. Justin was explaining to Tara in great detail about their mission to save us.

“You’re alive!” I called to Dodge. We embraced and started to discuss what had happened.

“Where were you?!” Bollis asked.

“I was stuck under a huge pile of debris from that ‘copter! You guys left me!”

“Trust me,” assured Bollis, “we wanted to search. How did you figure out Justin was in trouble?”

Dodge grinned.

“For some reason, Mark’s earpiece was picking up the surrounding noise,” he said. “I grabbed Justin and used a tiny bit of explosive on those doors. I stole some from you before we blew the sewer. I guess it came in handy after all.”

“Thank God you did.” Bollis smiled.

I felt my earpiece, wondering why it would do such a thing. Did Celia activate it remotely? Was it her last act to inform Dodge what was happening? Did she know Dodge was alive the whole time?

“Where’s Celement?” asked Tara, joining us with the boy.

“Still in that com room. Don’t worry, he’s not going anywhere.”

“You didn’t kill him?!” blasted Vexin.

Dodge looked stunned for a moment. “We might need him, Mr. Anger. What the hell?”

Bollis placed a hand on Dodge’s shoulder. “How much did you hear from Mark’s earpiece?”

Then the blonde noticed everyone’s solemn, distraught appearances. His head swiveled around before asking, “What happened?”

Bollis proceeded to tell Dodge about the whole Slate encounter, filling in the missing pieces. Thankfully, Dodge obviously hadn’t heard about Celia, and Bollis made the decision not to tell him. When I heard the details of our betrayal the second time around, a heavier weight fell upon me. I wanted to scream and cry and beat myself up every time I thought about it. However, I also wanted nothing more than to find Slate. Never before had I wanted to kill someone with such vehemence.

Dodge had to sit. His breaths became weak and his body, frail. With a mouth like Justin’s, Dodge spewed more curse words than all of us combined in the last week.

“Edge?” he said to the floor. “Created?”

No one said a thing. We shared his confusion and loss of words. There really wasn’t anything
to
say. The only option to revert our sorry state would be to catch up to Slate and plaster his crimes for the whole world to see. Standing here any longer would ruin our chances of that.

“We were his ‘prototypes’,” said Bollis with disgust. “If Slate gets in control of GenoTec again, we won’t have another chance to stop him.”

“Says who?!” I urged. “We’re all still alive. We’ve got a chance!”

But as I looked around at our small group of renegades, Bollis was the only person mentally ready to commence our final mission. And maybe it was his unfortunate role as leader that made it necessary for him to have a plan.

I looked incredulously at my companions. They were beaten and torn. Their souls had been exhausted to a small spirit, wheezing and struggling to provide energy and light. Didn’t they want to put an end to this? Wasn’t that everyone’s desire?

“Mark’s right,” affirmed Bollis. “Slate’s getting away.”

For the second time, I felt an upswing of bright red courage within my bones.

“I know we’ve been more screwed than I can describe,” I started, “but we
can’t
do this now. We can’t fall apart. Slate
must
have a cure somewhere. We can save everyone. We can turn this whole thing around on him! He trained us, bred us into soldiers, and brought us here. Let’s use that against him!”

For the most part, my little speech rallied the troops. They started stirring.

Dodge stood. “I’m ready.”

Vexin began showing signs of life, as if emerging from a pool of paralysis. He didn’t say anything, but nodded.

“Grab everything we have left,” commanded Bollis. “We’re not stopping until Slate’s dead.”

Genesis broke into a scurry, securing weapons, loading fresh magazines, and discarding unnecessary equipment. I unclamped my right shoulder piece, tarnished and split wide open, and discarded it. Most of them left their shattered and battle-worn helmets. The time had come for Genesis to pull out every stop.

As Bollis, Dodge, and Vexin probed the broken window, Tara, Justin, and I spoke.

“Are you sure your arm’s okay?” Tara asked for the third time.

“Do you
want
to be my mom er somethin’?” Justin looked annoyed. “It’s bandaged. It’s fine!”

Justin’s freckled face was covered in grime and black streaks of collected dust. His chocolate mousse hair was in a frenzy of curls and grease. I couldn’t help but feel compassion for the kid. What other eleven-year-old could endure so much?

The outspoken boy had agreed to take up post within the office. He found it useful to be in the com room, so he made his way to the half-shattered table and started to tinker away. Tara barely had a chance to say goodbye.

“It sucks juggling my soldier mind with my
normal
mind,” she said, longing for relief.

“It’s almost over, Tar.” I grabbed her chin so she would look at me.

She struggled hard to not cry, and I think the adrenaline of the event was the only thing keeping her stable. I brought her into a quick embrace. It felt so warm and comforting, even under the heavy metal slabs of our suits. I almost started sobbing with her, but the tears wouldn’t come.

I held her tightly until she let go. Her eyes were puffy and her lips were cracked and bleeding a bit. She pulled her excess hair into the familiar spiky ponytail, leaving wavy strands to fall over each temple. Her baby bangs reminded me of her youthful, headstrong determination. Somewhere inside the blood-ridden soldier lived the old Tara I had met a month ago.

A month.
God, it felt like a year.

Bollis turned to Dodge, perched on the extra-wide windowsill. “Did you see Repik’s men out there?”

Dodge looked confused. “Repik’s men?”

“So Repik
was
bluffing,” said Vexin, double-checking the rooftop below.

By now, the sun was peaking over the horizon, illuminating the world in vivid color. Everything was visible, from the blackened helicopter remains, to the city surrounding the building.

“All right,” said Bollis, “then let’s go.”

Dodge skeptically looked out the window. “Did he just jump?”

“I see what he did, follow me,” Bollis concluded, stepping out of the window into the morning air. “There’s a little outcrop of concrete here and a ladder—come on.”

Tara turned to Justin before she joined us. “If anyone comes after you, turn on the kinetic shield.”

“Worry, worry, worry! You worry!” he yelled back.

But once Tara left the room, he rushed toward the shattered hole and stuck his head out.

“Be careful! Remember my promise!” He paused, watching us descend a maintenance ladder in single file. “Grob-loads . . .”

It wouldn’t be a comment without an insult.

Before Tara took the rungs of the ladder, she smiled at him and repeated, “Worry, worry, worry!”

“Touché!” Justin saluted the air and vanished into the office.

Our feet hit the rooftop with a crunch. Like beasts of prey, we commenced our mission once more.

For the beginning of July, it was particularly windy. The temperature was warm and the sun shined without hindrance, but in the distance I could see approaching behemoth clouds, carrying their loads of rain.

Once we rounded the corner to the back end of the building, another obstacle presented itself. A small tram station at the edge of the building stood before us. A screeching sound was coming from the tram’s rail system, as if an excavator was clawing at the metal. I could see the gears and tracks moving underneath the rail, suggesting that Slate was well on his way.

“Axxiol.” Bollis frowned. “He’s going to Axxiol.”

“Damn it,” exclaimed Dodge. “This better not turn into a wild goose chase.”

Bollis broke into a jog. “Maybe we can stop the tram.”

We hurried over to the ramp leading to the station and infiltrated the metal cylinder. There were two holographic monitors on the ocean’s side, depicting route patterns and timetables. To our left, a retractable gate and bridge waited for the next tram. The actual rail was a single squared shaft, arcing around and going back again, creating a gigantic oval altogether. Out of the GenoTec and Axxiol buildings, enormous struts supported the rail like the bottom of a bridge, instead of obnoxiously running all the way to the ocean. If I weren’t on a life or death mission, I might have considered the tram system pretty cool.

“Look,” said Vexin, standing upon the loading platform.

From Vexin’s angle, Slate’s escaping tram was about to reach Axxiol.

“It has some sort of auto lock system. He’s going to Axxiol and nothing’s gonna stop him—that’s basically what it’s telling me,” replied Dodge, awaiting the command from Bollis.

“There’s the next tram! How long ‘til it gets here?” asked Tara.

“Checking,” said Dodge, turning back to the computer and typing some keys in here and there. Within a few seconds, he punched in some crucial commands, and a female voice began to speak.

“Transportation to Axxiol will arrive in two minutes.”

“Good. Hopefully he doesn’t shut
us
down when he reaches the facility,” said Bollis angrily.

“Looks like the Vista mission was worth it,” said Tara. “We’re actually going to Axxiol.”

The wind started to pick up as we sat there, tense and ready for war.

“Who knew what that mission was
really
for,” speculated Dodge.

The next track finally approached the station, the five of us waiting in excruciation. The tram was an open-air cabin, big enough to fit at least ten people comfortably, complete with a few Fuse screens and plush seating. As it rounded the corner, it turned on a pivot system and aligned itself with our platform.

“Here we go,” said Bollis.

“En route to Axxiol Offshore Research Facility. Estimated arrival time: six minutes.”

“I hope you’re right, computer lady,” sighed Dodge.

“Dodge, see if you can get a shot off.” Bollis squinted down the railway.

Dodge replaced his M580 with the Ramrod and mounted it on the tram’s ledge. He focused down the sights as we waiting behind.

He pulled his head back and turned to Bollis, “The other tram station’s blocking the way.”

The tram kept moving at a steady pace. Every other second or two would sport an irregular shake or twitch from the tram, making our sniffles and deep breathing much easier to be heard.

Everyone was on edge—quiet on the outside, raging on the inside. Dodge was still trying to contact Celia. I met eyes with Tara multiple times, wondering if we made the right decision not to tell him. I thought about my connection to Tara and replaced her with Celia. The more I imagined Tara dead, the more I understood we had done the right thing.

Not only were we anxious about Slate getting away, Axxiol loomed in our sights like an unpredictable visitor. The one thing I didn’t invest too much study into, Axxiol was a place of uncertainty. Little was even known about the inner workings of the place. Images of our encounter at the Corrupt Vista had been replaying through my mind. I had no clue what we were going to find in there, and I had a bad feeling Slate was going to unleash something horrible upon us.

My thinking was interrupted by a terse jolt and subsequent halt of movement. The tram had been stopped, just as we had predicted. And we were only halfway there.

My stomach lurched. Plan B sucked.

“This is it!” shouted Bollis, already halfway out the window.

Plan B called for each of us to scale the cabin, then ascend to the top of the rail. A maintenance catwalk spanned most of the length of the track.

Bollis demonstrated how to successfully climb up to the top, careful to keep his gear away from obstructing his grip. We climbed out of the window, latching onto the roof of the cabin. Once we were safely standing, we had to give Dodge a boost so he could reach the catwalks railing. After that, it was a matter of helping one another up.

We sprinted down the grated walkway, watching the ocean peel away at our sides. Looking ahead, Axxiol was a force to be reckoned with.

Shaped like a giant pentagon, the facility had five individual, interconnected structures called Vestibules, surrounding one giant square base. The center building—the Rectory—was significantly taller than the others, and each smaller facility connected to the main hub through open-air bridges. Axxiol was enormous, half the size of the actual Pentagon—the old government building. Each Vestibule of the massive pentagon was designated to different kinds of research and development, while the Rectory remained a mystery to us. I should’ve done more research, but I remembered Celia said even she was kept out of pertinent information.