Gods and men the hank b.., p.62

Gods and Men- The Hank Boyd Omnibus, page 62

 part  #1 of  Gods and Men Series

 

Gods and Men- The Hank Boyd Omnibus
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  Interesting…

  “So he only contacts him?”

  She nods again but squints. “Why do you care?”

  I shrug. “I’m not sure he’ll be doing much of that anymore.”

  “What did you do to him?” she asks, more out of curiosity than anger.

  Feeling nothing hateful coming from her, I answer truthfully. “I may or may not have overcooked the filet.”

  This gets a snort out of her.

  “Is that funny to you?” I ask, confused at her reaction.

  “Your humor is, yes. As far as the feelings I have for Susanoo…” She thinks for a second. “Do you have anyone you’re close with—any family member that you care about, but don’t really like?”

  I nod. “We all have someone like that in our family trees I suppose.”

  “I love my family, Mr. Boyd, but that doesn’t mean I support them in what they do. At one time I went along with their plans without thought, blind to the end results. It’s all I was ever taught. We were the strongest—his pupils. We were made to fight and destroy.”

  “Made?” I ask, backing off on my plan to attack. I sit forward and listen, still trying to recover some. The fight with Susan really took it out of me, and the adrenalin injection did nothing except keep me conscious. I’m still exhausted.

  “We were an unusual birth—”

  “Like your father and uncles—Thoth’s priests,” I say, connecting the ominous parallel.

  She nods. “But unlike them, we were not taught to defend our homeland. We were taught to defile it.”

  I blink hard and shake my head. “I…I don’t understand.”

  “It’s hard to explain, but there is always evil in the world, Mr. Boyd. Our master has been behind most of it since the beginning of man’s first major leap. We were his next step in the downfall of An’tala, in case our father didn’t succeed.”

  “Did he actually succeed?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “Only in part. He failed when he met you.”

  Oops. So when I defeated Nannot, it caused his master to come after me himself, through the Judges.

  I look into her sparkling eyes, and again, she shows no ill will towards me. It’s like she’s an entirely different entity than her siblings. It’s unnerving, and I’d typically never ask as much but…

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “We have your friend, Dr. Fehr.”

  My eyes narrow and the flame in my right hand brightens slightly.

  “I don’t want this, I swear it. I’ve spent time with humanity—hundreds—thousands of lifetimes. I’ve seen the beauty in your world. I do what I must so that I too, may live!”

  I regain control and bring down the light some. Terra relaxes as well.

  “I need you to come with me.”

  I laugh aloud. “Why would I ever agree to that?” I know I could probably outmatch her. Formulating a plan, I look up and see only solid earth.

  Shit.

  “Because…” She looks me in the eyes again, showing me the hurt in hers. “Dr. Fehr will die unless you go to the Citadel.”

  24

  Camp Arifjan, Kuwait

  A hand latched onto Nicole’s flailing wrist and squeezed, halting her plunge. Kane held on for dear life but slipped like Nicole did. His large body fell from inside the chopper, but hit the right landing strut with a bang, almost making him let go.

  “Hang on!” he yelled, against the maelstrom swirling around them. He had a good hold on her, but any help from Nicole would be much appreciated. Locking his ankles around the thick strut, Kane wrapped his left elbow around another section, doing what he could to keep the two of them aloft.

  If it had been his still-healing left hand trying to grip Nicole’s wrist, he would have already dropped her. His grip strength hadn’t returned yet. Or ever, he thought, recalling what the doctor had said.

  “You have a severe form of arthritis caused by the blow your knuckles and hand received. You were lucky enough to only sustain minor breakage, but the joints took a beating. Things like this… They don’t heal all that quickly,” the doctor looked up from Kane’s hand and met his eyes, “or ever.”

  Kane resigned himself to being forced to change his fighting habits and his firearms. Instead, he now toted the Japanese katana he acquired from a fallen foe, hoping to not have to engage in too many bouts of fistfights while he continued to mend. It’s also the reason he got the new Desert Eagle variant. Same amount of damage, zero stress on his damaged hand.

  Speaking of stress…

  Facing up, he struggled to look over his shoulder. The ground was quickly approaching but at a sharp angle. The pilot seemed to be heading for open water. He knew they could jump—let go, in their cases—once they were close enough. It wouldn’t be a graceful entry into the gulf, but it’d be a hell of a lot better than the tarmac.

  “Kane!”

  He felt Nicole slip a little and squeezed even harder, arresting her fall. Both their hands were sweaty from the hot, humid air, making it twice as difficult a task to hold on. If she’d have weighed as much as Hank did when he had to hold him up over the trap door at Site A, she would already be a goner.

  “Seriously, Nic!” he yelled. “How many times can one person get tossed from a helo?” It was the second time in a matter of only a few minutes that he had to save her life.

  Just another day at the office…

  He couldn’t see Nicole from where he hung, which was good. He didn’t want to see her face if he dropped her. It was something burning into his mind right now. Not only was Hank missing and possibly dead, but Nicole was about to meet the same fate if he failed her here.

  The Blackhawk shook violently again, but not from another explosion. The engine was seizing up, causing them to drop even faster.

  “Let go!” Nicole yelled.

  “What!” he shouted back.

  “Now, dammit!”

  He trusted Nicole as much as Hank. They were the only ones besides Olivia that he had complete confidence in. So, cringing as he did, he let go of Nicole. Without her added weight, Kane could readjust his body and look. He watched as she fell from forty feet up, plummeting to the water below. Thank God, no asphalt. She struck feet first and disappeared under a bevy of waves.

  Having no real way—or desire—to climb back in, Kane also let go, falling like a backward missile. He did what he could to make himself more aerodynamic, but he miserably failed. He could only laugh inwardly as he bashed into an onrushing wave, imitating the Epic Fail videos of high dives gone wrong.

  He entered shoulder first, turning his face away from the concrete-like water. If they were any higher, he might have even lost consciousness from the impact. Thankfully, he didn’t, aided by the roiling waves. Thanks a bunch Susan. They actually shoved him forward a little as he slipped through, lessening the blow.

  As he sank, he let the current take him, trying not to overreact to falling from the skid of a crash-landing military Blackhawk off the coast of a foreign country after being struck by lightning created by a demigod from Atlantis.

  Why would I need to be freaking out about that?

  Instead, he used his practiced training and tried to remain calm, only surfacing in between waves. As he did, he saw a form swimming towards him farther out to sea. Had Nicole drifted that far out? It’s not until he heard a sloshing sound behind him that he knew the person coming towards him wasn’t a pretty blonde.

  It wasn’t a person at all…

  He spun, treading water in his duplicate BSA. Nicole was already in the waist-deep shallows, having found the footing to walk the rest of the way up the incline of sand.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” he said to himself as the other figure went under. “Fish-Man is still alive.”

  As the notion of a marine-based man-thing coming for him sank in, he did the only thing he could think of… He cursed some more and freaked out, kicking for shore. If a shark had been around, it would have found him as a tasty thrashing treat. He made it halfway, just enough to feel the bottom, when a large hand gripped his shoulder and forced him under. He didn’t fight it, though. This was the creature’s domain after all. Kane was the trespasser. But he wasn’t helpless either.

  The sea-demon, Susanoo, stared right into Kane’s eyes with his only working one. The other black orb was a ruined mess of flesh and gore. Hank had apparently done a number on the jerkoff before launching him out to sea.

  Kane knew he needed to strike, but he first needed a diversion. He knew his movements would be slow and clumsy in the water, but thankfully, he trained in such environments, using its natural resistance to speed up his strikes and increase his strength. It was a practice that he started when recovering from the broken back he suffered in Colombia back when he fought alongside John Frost and J.R. Brooks. They were his friends and his Ranger team members at one point. Both men tried to kill him during the incidents that spanned Central and North America earlier in the year. Now, both asshats were dead. One by a train, and one by an ancient biological weapon.

  It’s then the distraction happened.

  A large black shape landed nearby, burying itself in the shallow waters. Susanoo flinched, not expecting to see the helo, giving Kane the opportunity he needed. He reached over his head and as quickly as he could, drew the razor-sharp sword. The motion was noticed, but not quick enough. He impaled the monster in the gut, pushing the blade in as deep as he could, burying it to the hilt. Next, he let go and kicked away.

  Susanoo just stood, the top of his scale-covered head breaking the surface an inch or so. Kane turned, swimming backward, and watched Susan draw the blade out with a swift pull. He could hear the blackened creature scream from here, dropping the prized weapon onto the sand below. But the monster wasn’t done… Susanoo stomped towards him, moving incredibly fast for something underwater.

  Screw it, Kane thought as he turned. He needed to get to shore and even the playing field. His gun would finish his enemy off, but he didn’t trust the impact of the rounds underwater. Once he was on land, he had fourteen .50 caliber bullets at his beck and call.

  After a dozen, or so, more strokes, Kane stood and ran with all his might. Water was a mean mistress if you were in a hurry. Yes, whether you had to pee and didn’t want to go in the pool, or in this case, you were running for your life, H2O wanted to let the bad guy catch up and make things interesting.

  And it did.

  Susanoo caught Kane by the back of the shirt, slashing his fatigues to bits. But that’s all he could do. In one fluid motion, Kane released the drenched clothes, yanking on the concealed cord. Susanoo fell back a little, surprised. It’s the last expression he’d show.

  An explosion of water disrupted Kane’s potential goring as Nicole, like a leaping…mermaid…launched herself from the sea and onto Susanoo’s back. Kane quickly understood what she was doing when he saw the glint of metal in her hand. As she landed on him, she drove the tip of her massive nine-inch KA-BAR knife blade into the base of Susanoo’s neck. The fight instantly went out of the demon’s face as he slumped forward, sinking like a stone.

  Kane and Nicole headed for dry land, Kane helping the smaller woman. She looked ready to pass out, breathing heavily.

  “Where the hell did you come from?” he asked, setting her down on the beach. He immediately collapsed next to her.

  In between puffs she explained. “After…I went and got them,” she pointed further down the sand. Kane saw his uncle and the pilot laying on the sun-soaked beach, resting, “I headed over here.”

  “You think he’s dead—Susan, I mean?”

  Nicole shrugged. “I really don’t care. We need to find Hank.”

  Kane nodded and stood, helping her to her feet. But instead of heading back up the dunes, he turned back towards the water.

  “What are you doing?” Nicole asked.

  He motioned with his chin. “Gettin’ my sword back… You want your knife?”

  She shook her head. “That asshole can have it. My gift to him.”

  Kane re-entered the water, giving the inert form of Susanoo a wide berth just in case. There was black oily blood everywhere, making visibility tough, but moments later he found the shimmering sword.

  As he grabbed it, he looked down at his booted feet. The ground was just inches below him, and he started to doubt being able to find his friend.

  Where the hell are you man?

  25

  Somewhere

  I’m really sick of being underground, I think, turning to my captor.

  “What’s the Citadel?” I ask but get no reply. She’s refused to answer any questions about it. So, instead of antagonizing her, I switch tactics and try to get some other information out of her.

  Currently, we’re traveling in the strangest mode yet. It’s like we’re in the giant boulder from Raiders of the Lost Ark, but we’re underground and not in a dilapidated temple.

  Innerground, I think. It’s actually a better representation of what’s going on.

  “How are you doing this?” I ask, curious. Plus, we have some time to kill, so why not know how?

  “It’s like a form of matter displacement, except I put the removed earth back when I’m done.”

  “How is it rolling?”

  She shrugs, holding her hands out in front of her. “The top of the sphere pulls the ground down, removing the next layer in front of us. The bottom then quickly expels it back from where it came, filling in the void.”

  “And the ground under our feet? Why doesn’t it move?”

  “Because we’d have nowhere to stand.” The grin on her face tells me she intended to make me feel dumb, and honestly, it worked. She continues. “It is moving, but I built a solid platform just above the base of the sphere. It stays put, while the rest rotates.”

  “Like a Gyrosphere.”

  She nods. “Good movie.”

  “You saw Jurassic World?”

  The look on her face is one of confusion. “Everyone has seen Jurassic World, Mr. Boyd.”

  Now it’s my turn to shrug. “Or like BB-8.”

  I raise my thumb and imitate the droid’s flaming thumbs-up gesture. It was easily my favorite part of the movie. It even gets a tired laugh out of Terra.

  “Seriously, though,” I say, changing tones, “why are you still hooked up with these wackos? You’re obviously different from them. You could leave and—”

  The ball stops suddenly, throwing me forward. I careen into the front wall, but luckily take the hit in the shoulder, avoiding my tenth, maybe eleventh, concussion.

  I stand and dust myself off, turning back to Terra.

  “Please don’t question my motives,” she says, closing the sphere in some, adding to my discomfort. “We all do things we don’t want to. I still have my reasons to continue on and serve my master.”

  I step forward but raise my hands in a non-threatening way. “From the looks of it, you have everything you need to take care of yourself. You literally control the Earth. If you want to play the part of the stooge, I won’t stop you.” To prove it, I step around her, motioning for her to continue. She does but stops when I speak again. “But you need to figure out if it’s your heart or your head that guides you. It’s dangerous for it to be both.”

  She turns her head slightly, glancing at me. I hold her gaze, watching her eyes flick to the side a little. She’s thinking about what I said but doesn’t voice an opinion.

  Terra then returns her attention to the task at hand and gets us moving again. Wanting to keep the lines of conversation open and somewhat friendly, I return my questioning to her abilities.

  “What do we do for air?”

  “You’ll be fine,” she said. “I will stop every so often and create an air vent to the surface, allowing the oxygen to renew itself. It’s not the easiest way to maneuver, but it’s the safest.”

  “Safest?” I asked.

  “From the enemy.”

  “We aren’t your enemies—well not before you killed countless people.”

  The sphere rumbles as her shoulder muscles tighten.

  “I didn’t kill anyone, Mr. Boyd.”

  “Hank,” I say, hating it when people speak so formally to me. “And your family killed dozens—hundreds even.”

  “But not me.”

  I want to lay into her and label her with the guilty by association tag, but decide that now isn’t the time. So far, Terra has been more than willing to keep things cordial. Best I hang onto whatever civility I can while I’m in her wheelhouse. Above ground, I’d be a little more willing to throw down.

  So instead of getting the answers I genuinely want, I get the ones I’m just interested in. Her history…literal history. Terra has been alive since before An’tala fell. She was young when it happened but still, remembers everything. It coincides with what I saw too. The vision of her father decimating the island still haunts my dreams, along with 146 other things from the last few months.

  The stress of everything has been more than I can take in a couple cases. I’ve even thought about leaving everything behind and finding a cozy hole-in-the-wall town to get lost in. But walking away from Nicole is all but impossible. Even Kane has grown on me. I like Olivia and Todd the more I’m around them too. Ben would be another person that would make it hard to leave. He was even more influential in training me than my father was.

  “You’re all of a sudden quiet.”

  I look back over to Terra.

  “I’m…just thinking of my dad.”

  Her eyes soften a little. “I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t put the bullet in his back.”

  “But my mother hired the man who did.”

  My fists tighten but quickly loosen. If ever there was a time to mention guilty by association, this is it. The look on Terra’s face tells me it’s why she’s apologizing, though. She knows she’s just as much at fault as Frost or Coaxoch. I let my anger subside, and release the tension building up in my body.

 

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