Description:
A man with a mysterious gift makes his presence known to the world through the destruction of a major American city, setting forth a twisting tale of romance, remembrance, and revenge.
As a member of a rare and powerful race of genetically-evolved humans known as variants, Cael has the unique ability to manipulate the very fabric of the world around him. Yet, outside of his beloved fiancée Summer Ayers, the only thing he has to show for all his strength is a lifetime’s worth of loss and letdown.
His parents and closest friends have all been dead for years, and the only people with whom he could ever hope to relate—his fellow variants—are nonexistent in his life. Only Summer has remained constant. So when an incident in New York City threatens to take her away as well, Cael finds he simply can’t let go, turning in desperation to the allure of his power if only to keep her a moment longer. He loses control, and in a single instant the very life of the city is snatched away forever.Lost and broken, Cael is left to face the fallout of his actions. The world brands him a monster and rightfully so. The government seeks to have him destroyed. Even his own mind begins to turn against him, as a ghostly choir of the lives he’s stolen rises up to test his sanity. Still, through it all, the memory of Summer continues to burn in his heart, a memory he refuses to relinquish until the day he can finally set things right.
Three-chapter sample included after the jump....
Sample:
The Place Between
November
18, 1988
I open my eyes to a starlit city
skyline, beautiful and majestic against the black backdrop of night. All of the
memories, all of the hurt, all of the pain—everything that I’ve experienced in
my life seems so distant now, so far away, as if the dark and winding road that
brought me to this place had never really been walked at all. Finally, hidden
away in the most unreachable of places, I’ve found my chance at peace.
The form beside me mutters softly in
acknowledgement as she tumbles over, lost inside the peaceful fluttering of
faultless dreams. With a gentle sigh, she presses her body to mine, the dormant
joy of her expression smoldering lightly in the pale glow of the moon as she
lifts her head to rest upon my chest. Like clockwork my heart begins to race and
I know as I’ve always known that I could never be without her. My love, my
light, my darling Elizabeth…is it wrong for me to keep you here?
The quiet ruffle of satin sheets
fills the night as I pull her closer, the fingers of my left hand tracing
shapeless patterns across the small of her back. I can’t help but feel the soft
warmth of her flesh resonating beneath my touch, can’t help but imagine the
sparkling green eyes that wait for me ever so patiently behind slumbering
eyelids. It’s foolish to think for even a second that I ever really had a
choice, right or wrong. The moment I first thought I could lose her was the
moment my heart forgot how to let go. It was also the moment I knew I’d do
anything to keep her, no matter the cost.
A familiar flutter fills my heart as
I feel the strength of my conviction flaring up within me, a powerful and
passionate reminder of the many oaths I swore to never break. I promised her
once that I’d always be with her, that I’d follow her into the darkest depths
of the world if it meant she’d never have to be alone. I promised her my body
and soul, my life, in exchange for her hand. Nothing in existence could make me
forget that.
“Sleep well, my love,” I whisper
softly after a moment, tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. I turn to place
a single, gentle kiss upon her brow. “And I’ll be here waiting when you wake.”
At the words, I feel emotion overtake me,
sweeping away my fears and doubts and replacing them with the quiet passion of
this world. I know with the deepest part of me that I can never let her go. I’ll
keep her here, forever by my side, until that day comes that I can finally take
her home.
“Sleep well,” I repeat beneath my
breath, staring a moment longer before letting my eyes slide shut. In the dark
and distant recesses of my mind, I feel something stir, and I can’t help but wonder
if somehow, someway she’s reaching out to me from the fringes of her
subconscious. But then, just like that, the feeling’s gone and the dark is
still again.
Chapter 1
November 19, 2013
2:02am
A shrill ring cut
through the night, ripping Commander Timothy Englewood from the sanctuary of
his dreams. He hadn’t heard the dusty, old phone to his private line make so
much as a peep since his last government contract had ended and it wasn’t
something to be ignored. Stumbling and fumbling his way through the dark, he slid
into the chair by his desk and pulled the receiver to his ear. On the other
end, an authoritative voice managed only a single sentence: “New York City has been
compromised, assemble your team and prep yourself for extraction.”
Fifteen hours
later and the Commander sat on one of the military’s largest transport
helicopters, making his way across the nation towards the Atlantic coast. In
one fell swoop, the chopper had quickly and quietly stolen away some of the
country’s sharpest military minds from the comfort of their homes. Englewood’s
own men—handpicked specialists he’d served with in the past—sat strapped in on
either side of him, their faces pale with fear.
It’d been nine
years since they’d been called upon, nine years in which they’d been led to
believe their respective tours of duty had ended. At the time, it’d been made
clear to them that their services wouldn’t be needed in the future, and yet,
here they were, whisked away once again, their eyes nervously tracing the
cockpit as they wondered what could’ve possibly happened to bring them back
into the fold. Considering the nature of their team and the government’s
persistence in finding them, it was hard not to think the worst.
“Mission Control,
this is Recon 1,” a voice buzzed through their headsets. “We have the anomaly
in our sights. Requesting permission to approach. Over.”
“Permission
granted, Recon 1,” a different voice crackled back. “Approach with supreme caution.
Get your team’s boots on the ground and bug out to Delta One to await
extraction. Do you copy? Over.”
“Affirmative,
Mission Control. Over and out.”
A collection of
gasps and panicked whispers rose up from the other passengers as the radio
clicked off, drawing the soldiers’ attentions to the southern end of the Hudson
River. There, saddled up against the western bank, a freshly erected military
base could be made out. Yet, directly its opposite, where New York City should’ve
stood, the men found nothing but darkness. The
anomaly, they all thought at once, knowing that’s exactly what they were
looking at.
It was a shadow of
sorts, immense and unnatural, rising up from the murky waters like some
ancient, angry beast. Tendrils of darkness erupted from its depths at uneven
intervals, piercing the sky like blackened blades before retreating back from
whence they’d come. It almost looked alive as it twisted and flowed about the
city, a river of haze so thick it couldn’t help but swallow up every inch of
the metropolis, leaving nothing in its wake. The anomaly, they thought again. The word didn’t do it justice.
Unbuckling his
harness, the Commander pulled himself towards the window and relayed to his
team in short breaths their mission as it’d been briefed to him. New York City
had gone dark, he explained, passing on his contact’s account of the sudden loss
of communication with the city. The anomaly had appeared shortly afterwards,
and that’s all that was known so far. The government needed answers and it needed
them ASAP. That’s where they came in. Their experience made them ideal
candidates for this type of mission. They’d be entering the city.
“Suit up, boys,”
Englewood smirked.
Another
ten minutes passed before the steady dip of the chopper could be felt, its massive
blades thundering as it made its descent into the black cloud that hung over
the city. Englewood and his team stood at attention in the aircraft’s cargo
hold, clad head to toe in state-of-the-art tactical gear. Black duffel bags
containing surveillance equipment and medical supplies lay ready beside them.
The hold jerked
and hissed as the rear hatch creaked opened, giving way to torrents of darkened
sky rushing upwards as the helicopter lowered itself into the city limits. At
the Commander’s signal, the soldiers secured their rope lines to support loops
and one by one repelled down into the darkness. Englewood was the last to go.
He took a final pass of his surroundings, glancing up just in time to see blue
skies and a crisp November sun give way to shadows. Then he, too, made his
descent into the darkened maw below.
Chapter 2
November 19, 2013
6:37pm
Swirling
winds ripped through the streets of the city as the Commander and his men stepped
into the darkness, their breaths a pale mist in the biting cold of winter.
Heavy shadows pressed in on them from all sides like a stifling, black blanket,
clouding their vision beyond the faint illumination of their flashlights. What
little light managed to push through was only enough to paint a partial picture
of the world around them, a distorted, grey sketch of an eerie, lifeless city
block. There were no honking horns, no distant sirens. Not a single voice
called out for aid. All was quiet and still and impossibly calm. It was unlike anything
they’d ever seen.
“Looks
like night vision’s no good in here,” the Commander muttered quietly, fumbling
with the goggles on his head before tossing them back in his bag. His men were
silent as they went through their own pre-assignment checks, the calm and poise
they’d managed to keep to that point faltering with each passing second spent
in the dark. All around, they could feel it beginning to grip them—that
senseless paranoia, that faint panic that rose up in the hearts of men
confronted with the unknown. Englewood could feel it too.
He
and his men had been trained to deal with chaos, to function as a unit through
the most stressful of situations, through gunfire and explosions, screams of
hatred and cries of pain. None of that seemed relevant now. For the first time
in their lives, it was the quiet and calm that unnerved them most, the subtle
touch of death they felt closing in around them that left endless questions
racing through their minds. Even now, Englewood could read it on their faces,
could almost hear it fall from their lips with each staggered breath: what the
hell happened here?
A
tall, muscular soldier by the name of Lieutenant Seth Jenkovich was the first
to break the silence. “Keep your eyes open, guys,” he spoke softly as he stepped
forward into the shadows. “And stay close. We still don’t know what we’re
dealing with here.”
One by one, the
men followed his lead, carefully making their way into the dark. Englewood was
the last to go, a thin smile spreading across his face as he watched the
Lieutenant take charge of the team.
The
six-foot-four former marine had been his second-in-command for as long as he
could remember, running point for the field unit and allowing him to take on a
more advisory role. He’d proven his worth time and time again over the years
with tactical prowess and a steady demeanor, quickly becoming the Commander’s
most trusted agent as well as one of his closest friends.
They’d
been together since the formation of the government’s Anti-Variant Agency Strategic
Response Team in the late 1990’s, a specialized squad of men specifically created
to carry out the every will and whim of the AVA without question. In their time
of service, they’d been asked to do many things they weren’t proud of,
sometimes terrible things, and it was the shared burden of their experiences
that’d helped bring together even the most different of men. And different they
were. While Commander Englewood was the heart and soul of the team, its
emotional and intuitive leader, Lieutenant Jenkovich was its eyes and ears. He
was perceptive and cunning, the kind of calculating and logical man that men
felt comfortable following, even if he led them straight into darkness.
Up
ahead, Jenkovich had only managed to make it fifty feet before stumbling over a
heavy object and falling roughly to the ground. Inadvertently, he’d made the
team’s first discovery.
With a groan, he
rolled over onto his stomach and lifted his head, jerking with surprise as he
found himself face to face with the corpse of a young woman. Her lifeless eyes
gazed peacefully into his. “Whoa…” he gasped unexpectedly. “Hey, looks like we’ve
got something here, Commander. You’d better take a look at this.”
Bringing himself
to a crouch, he instinctively checked the woman’s neck for a pulse. There was
none. The team formed a tight circle around him, their flashlights casting down
to provide as much light as possible. The woman’s skin was pale and cold and
wore the same ashy gray hue as the rest of the city. Even her eyes, which still
gazed softly forward, lacked any real color to them. The team’s field
physician, Damien Hodge, slid forward with his medical pack open, digging
through the bag hastily before pulling out a tape recorder.
“Let’s
have a look, shall we?” he started dryly, lifting the recorder to his mouth as
he scooted Jenkovich out of the way. He ran his free hand along the woman’s
body as he mumbled to himself. “…no sign of any lacerations or burns…no
noticeable bruises or broken bones, no other trace of physical trauma…no real
indication of stress or struggle at all…pupils normal…”
The medic’s voice
trailed off as Englewood stepped away from the group, surveying the street
beside them with his flashlight. The darkness hid the worried frown that’d come
to cross his face.
Without
a word, he dropped to a crouch at the edge of the sidewalk, a single hand
running nervously through his hair as he let out a long, drawn out sigh.
Something didn’t feel right. He’d looked into that woman’s eyes, just as he’d done
countless times before, hoping to find some hint or clue as to what he’d been
sent to deal with. But where he’d expected to find traces of fear and pain,
he’d found something else, something he hadn’t prepared himself for. In that
young woman’s eyes, Englewood had found a sense of peace.
It
didn’t make sense. In all his time in the government’s service, he’d seen
pretty much all a man could see, and if there was one thing that’d stuck with
him throughout the years it was that tragedy was almost always poetic. There
was beauty in death just as there was beauty in life. The two were linked—life
and death, light and dark, creation and destruction. One could not exist
without the other. No city had ever fallen without the accompanying symphony of
exploding shells and clashing steel. No man had ever died without one last
burst of life, be it in a final breath or a shimmer of the eyes. This fact had
always held true in his life. But this, this was something different, something
he feared he didn’t fully understand.
“What’re
you thinking, Tim?” Jenkovich’s voice spoke from up above him, invading his
thoughts and pulling him back to the cold confines of reality.
“I
don’t know, Jenks,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “Something doesn’t
feel right about this whole thing. It’s just…”
“…her
eyes,” Jenkovich finished, much to his surprise. “Yeah, I saw it too. They seem
so…I don’t even know how to describe it. Calm maybe? Like she doesn’t have a
care in the world. Except the whole being dead thing of course.” He smiled
quietly. “She couldn’t have seen it coming.”
“Never
stood a chance,” Englewood echoed. “And that’s just it, the part that doesn’t
make sense, you know? You can’t just flip the off switch on a person.”
“Death
without life,” Jenkovich agreed.
“Exactly.
Even if it was…you know…even one of them
couldn’t possibly do something like this…”
The two sat in
silence for a moment as they considered the words. Their secret, their burden,
filled the space between them.
“You
don’t think the agency could’ve been wrong, do you?” Jenkovich asked quietly,
glancing over his shoulder to make sure the other men weren’t listening in. “I
mean, they couldn’t have possibly messed something like that up, right? I don’t
think the guys would handle it well if they thought we were here on an old-school
manhunt. Most of them put that stuff behind them years ago.”
“There’s
no way,” Englewood said. “And even if it was
possible somehow, it wouldn’t be anywhere near this. You know how it works,
they—”
“She’s clean,
Commander, not a scratch on her,” Damien called from the sidewalk. He’d snapped
on a pair of white latex gloves and was attempting to draw blood from the
woman’s arm. “I’m gonna take some samples for the lab, but I don’t know, sir. Even
a super advanced bio- weapon should’ve left some kind of marker. So, yeah, I
have no idea.”
Englewood nodded,
assuming as much.
“Well,
we better keep moving then. Wrap it up, D.”
“But
sir, the girl?” Damien motioned to the ground before him, where the young
woman’s body had once again been swallowed up by the dark.
“You
planning on lugging a couple million people out of here, Hodge? We’re here to
find out what happened, not run a funeral service. We move forward.” With an
authoritative pause, Englewood turned to Jenkovich and nodded.
“All
right, you heard him guys. Let’s move.”
Once more, the
Lieutenant took the lead, pushing forward through the shadows as the rest of
the team fell in line in behind him. It was only a few more steps before they
discovered a second body, an older man this time, and a few steps beyond that
that they found two more. Slowly but surely, they waded their way into the
river of the dead, moving block by block towards the heart of the city. Before
they knew it, the sidewalks had become so crowded they could hardly be navigated,
just an endless stream of empty shells staring blankly forward, their last
moments trapped on their faces in all ranges of emotions. Except for those the
men expected to find: fear…pain…
The streets, too,
proved difficult to traverse, though certain areas were easier than others. The
soldiers pressed on as best they could, their nerves heightening to
uncomfortable levels as they entered the more traditionally busy parts of
Manhattan. Where they would’ve normally expected to find blaring horns and
people shouting, street merchants peddling their wares, they found nothing at
all. All that remained was the whistling of the wind and the rustling of
newspapers, and, of course, the short, staggered breaths of the men as they
beheld the horror that stretched out before them.
The darkness grew
thicker as they made their way forward, and soon even their flashlights could barely
penetrate it. They were forced to move slower, more carefully and, as a result,
more observantly.
“What
the hell…? Hold up guys.”
Jenkovich stopped
up short at a crossing intersection and motioned towards something in the
distance. Excitedly, he took a couple steps forward and pointed again. “Do you
guys see that?”
At
first, the men saw nothing. The light from their flashlights barely stretched
far enough to outline the cars and trucks resting motionless beside them, let
alone anything further than a couple feet. Still, the Lieutenant continued
motioning towards something ahead in the dark.
“There,
all the way down that street. You guys can see that, right?”
It was Damien next
to notice it, his eyes squinting tightly as he scanned the area Jenkovich was referring
to.
“I
don’t see…wait, there!”
The stocky medic
took a few rushed steps forward, moving in next to the Lieutenant before
starting to point himself. “You see that? There’s something shining in the
distance. Light!”
One by one, the
distant glow caught the men’s eyes, and one by one they nodded in
acknowledgement. It was faint and far off, flickering like a candle in the dark,
but it had to have been incredibly bright to cut through the heavy haze that’d come
to cover the city.
“What do you think?”
Jenkovich asked, turning to face the Commander.
Englewood studied
the light a moment without answering, weighing the merits of playing it safe versus
potentially finding some answers. In the end, he knew orders were orders. He chose
the latter.
“Let’s
move,” he said.
Just
like that, they were off and running, zigzagging their way through the maze of
bodies and vehicles that filled the streets before them. Their footsteps echoed
loudly in the silence of the city, gradually pounding faster as they drew ever closer
to the light. By the time they’d reached the intersection about a hundred yards
out, they were moving at a near-reckless pace, protocol and training thrown to
the wind as curiosity took over.
“Keep in line
behind me!” Jenkovich instructed as he led the charge, lifting an arm to shield
his eyes. The once distant light had blossomed into a blinding radiance, so
bright he could barely see where he was going. He had no choice but to rely on
his instincts to guide him, and in turn he was using his voice to help guide
along the others. “It’s not much further!” he called out again. “Keep to the—”
Without warning,
his body was ripped to an abrupt stop, a shallow gasp falling from his lips as
he felt a foreign presence push its way into his mind. His mouth was snapped
shut before he could shout out a warning, and one by one he was forced to watch
as the same fate befell each of the men. Within seconds, the entire team was
trapped beside him, unable to move or speak, their bodies bound in place by the
same invisible force that’d taken a hold of his own.
What is this!? What’s happening!? he
thought, his eyes wide as he searched for the Commander. Englewood was frozen
just a few feet to his left, and appeared every bit as surprised as he was.
Their eyes met briefly before they were pulled away, the unseen force focusing
their collective gaze on the center of the light. There, not more than fifteen
feet in front of them, they found the first living people they’d seen all
night.
They
were cradled together like a scene from some harrowing love story: the slain
heroine resting peacefully in the arms of her would-be hero, the two enjoying a
final moment together amidst the chaos that surrounded them. Only in this case
the chaos was a darkened city and the hero, it appeared, was its darkener. He
was on his knees in the center of the light with his back to the soldiers,
trembling in obvious pain. Long, thick lacerations ran all the way from his
head to his feet, forming jagged valleys in the bare muscle of his back. Streams
of blood poured from his wounds, a vibrant red against the pale tone of his
flesh, but it was nothing compared to the fiery crimson of his eyes.
Those
eyes… They burned like nothing the soldiers had ever seen before, so bright, so
intense, as if every ounce of passion the world had ever known had been
gathered to a single point just below their surface. Billows of brilliant, red
light danced forth from their depths like biting tongues of flame, filling the
space beneath his brow with a terrible, crimson glow. The air around him
crackled violently with energy, tossing his short, black hair wildly about, and
the tattered ruins of the nearby buildings seemed to shudder at his every move.
It
was obvious he was the one who’d grabbed them. His presence was everywhere, flowing
as freely through the night as the light that surrounded him. The soldiers
could hear his ragged breaths echo in their ears, could feel his slowing heart
beating through their veins. They could taste the icy clutches of his being as
it wove around them endlessly, binding them, controlling them—forcing their
minds to his.
In his arms, he
held a young woman, pale and lifeless in a simple green dress. Wavy, brown hair
fell from her head to her shoulders, framing a pretty face with full lips and a
freckled nose. Her body was bent and broken from some unknown trauma, and blood
poured into the man’s hands from her wounds. Her flesh had faded a ghostly
white, and the fullness of her form had grown gaunt and withered with the touch
of death. If she wasn’t gone yet, she would be soon, and this would be all that
remained of her.
A wave of emotion
spilled over from the man’s mind as he pulled her to his chest, drawing her
forehead to his and staring into her empty eyes. His lips quivered as he
whispered to her inaudibly, sobbing softly behind a firm expression as he
fought to be strong…for her, always for
her…
The unspoken words
exploded forcefully into the soldiers’ minds, making them cringe with
discomfort. The man seemed not to notice. Lifting his head, he continued to
whisper, stroking the woman’s hair gently before placing a single, loving kiss
upon her brow. Tears slid down his cheeks as his lips formed the final few
words. Forgive me…
With a shudder of
pain, he turned to lay her down upon the street, the screeching sound of
twisted steel and concrete filling the night as unseen hands swept the rubble
aside. With an air of familiarity, he lifted his arms above his head, his palms
open to the sky as if to embrace the blinding light that swirled around him. Seconds
ticked by in silence, ever so still, ever so calm. And then, like the deep
breath before the plunge, he began to inhale.
With a sharp snap,
his eyes flashed open and the surrounding light burst outwards, showering the
city with a dazzling radiance before shrinking back in towards his beckoning
hands. Gradually, he began to curl his fingers into fists, unblinking and
unwavering as he held his pose, the drawing light burning ever brighter as it
obeyed his call. A gashing cut opened just below his left eye and rolled down
his face to his chin, spilling more blood to the pavement below. Similar cuts
appeared at the bases of his wrists and snaked their way up his arms.
The trembling of
his body grew more pronounced with each new wave of pain, and his teeth gritted
in focus as he fought to hold it back. A thick layer of sweat coated the flesh
between his wounds, framing the running red with a pale, glistening white. His
every muscle seemed to clench in anticipation, and finally, with a primal
scream, he forced his fists shut, his eyes exploding with crimson fire as the
last of the light all but vanished.
The men looked on
in shock as the woman’s body lifted into the air, floating up to a point just
below the man’s shoulders. With shaking hands, he reached out to touch her,
settling his grip on her head and heart. Almost instantly, a glowing light
could be seen racing back and forth between them. It crashed like the ocean’s
waves—building up in his body before washing out through hers—but it wasn’t the
rhythm that had the soldiers fumbling for answers. It was the result.
Somehow, by some
miracle beyond their comprehension, the woman’s cuts and bruises had begun to
melt away, her bones and joints crunching and grinding as they were set back
into place. It was as if the man were healing her wounds somehow, undoing the
damage that’d been done before their arrival. But how? And why? What use would it
be if she’d already passed on? It’s not like he could bring her back from the
dead…
…unless that’s exactly what he’s trying to
do, the men thought together, their eyes widening in fear. They watched
intently as the light continued to flow back and forth between them, and sure
enough it wasn’t long before the woman’s body began to tremble with new life. Her
chest rose faintly as the man willed air into her lungs. Her pale skin flushed
with color as he forced blood through her veins. Every ounce of light he’d
stolen from the city he poured into her, and with a violent shudder, her eyes
shot open, blinking wildly in the light as a hurried gasp rushed past her lips.
The feeling was
overwhelming.
The soldiers were
dropped to their knees by the sudden shift in the man’s emotions, their inner
selves swept aside a moment as his presence became their own. With thundering
strokes, his heart ignited in their chests, sending wave after wave of warmth
and joy rushing through their veins. They’d never felt such passion, such soul-binding
bliss, and as he reached out to hold her they could hardly keep his tears from
forming in their eyes. He whispered something to her then, something they
couldn’t hear, and quietly she stirred in response.
The light surged
as she lifted her head, the soft green of her eyes meeting the bitter crimson
of his, a lifetime’s worth of memories and moments passing silently between
them. The soldiers could only make out bits and pieces—a word spoken here, a
kiss shared there—but it was more than enough to make them see how much she
meant to him.
All of this was
for her somehow, every inch of the fallen city. All of it had been building to
this moment. And yet, in the end, that’s all it was—a single, fleeting fraction
of time, a brief step outside the unrelenting current of life. As quickly as
it’d come, it was swept away, and the connection that’d brought it began to waver
and fade with the last of the light.
A troubled smile
crossed the woman’s face as she felt it go, and with hurried breaths she
struggled to say something. She never got the chance. The moment her mouth
opened, the light vanished from the air, and with it went her consciousness,
along with the man’s strength.
He collapsed in a
heap to the ground beside her, still locked into the beautiful emerald of her
eyes, even as they crept shut. He lingered there as long as he could—a look of
longing on his face—until the smoldering embers he hid beneath his brow had
finally died out as well, severing the bond they’d shared and releasing his
hold on the soldiers. Then he, too, let his eyes slide shut.
At long last the
spell was broken. The men snapped back to attention.
“He’s
gonna die if we don’t get him out of here!” Jenkovich yelled, sprinting forward
and sliding up to the man’s body. Damien rushed to check the vitals of the
woman. Her skin had a fresh hint of pigmentation to it, but her breathing was
labored and her pulse extremely weak.
“This
one’s still alive!” he called out. “But she needs some immediate attention if
we’re gonna keep it that way!”
“Radio
it in, Jenks,” Englewood ordered the Lieutenant, replacing him by the wounded
man’s side.
“Mission
Control, Mission Control, this is Lieutenant Seth Jenkovich with the New York
City advance team, Recon 1, requesting extraction. We’ve got two live
civilians, both badly wounded. Need immediate evac at perimeter C with
emergency medical response team. Young adult male has several deep lacerations
along his body and is bleeding heavily. Young adult female is alive and
breathing but her vitals are weak. Dispatch Recon 2 for final perimeter sweep…”
Jenkovich’s voice
trailed off as Englewood retreated back within himself, swinging his head from
side to side as he surveyed the team. Everything seemed to be moving in slow
motion, sluggish and silent, like a scene from some dark and distant dream.
Protocol, basic military procedures—none of it seemed to matter now. His men
wore strained expressions, visibly flustered, trying their best to remain calm
and strong under a weight that nothing could’ve prepared them for.
His thoughts
flashed back to the glowing eyes, the phantom cuts, and the brilliant light.
This wasn’t right; this wasn’t like before. This was something different.
“We’ve gotta move,
Tim,” Jenkovich interrupted. “Help me lift him.” The two men pulled the injured
man to his feet, supporting his dead weight beneath the arms. He was barely
conscious.
“What’s your name,
son?” Englewood asked him softly, whispering into his ear. He struggled to try
and lift his head to respond.
“My…name?” he
choked out weakly. “My name is…” His golden-brown eyes glimmered red for an
instant as they rose to meet the Commander’s. “My name is…”
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