Gun oil and sweat, what a fun combo. Stupid, so stupid to volunteer to come here.
Kemi Kimura sighted down the long barrel of her XM312 machine gun. The .50 caliber weapon was not packing the heavy ordinance of the cannons the other girls were packing, but at least it put out a whole lot more shells a whole lot faster. It also had the advantage of being lighter, which she supposed was why they gave it to her. She’d trained with it as much as they’d trained with anything, and while it had a familiar and comfortable weight in her hands, it wouldn’t slow her down.
Oh, it had seemed like the right thing to do...joining the army, learning about her powers. What else was she going to do? It’s not like a social-media influencer had many opportunities in a world with barely any internet. Trying not to laugh, she imagined what the Kemi of a year ago would think of the army fatigue wearing, make-up-less soldier she’d become.
Probably used her in some jingoistic selfie to get more followers. “Support the Troops!” she’d pout behind duck lips while flashing a V with her fingers, the hapless soldier in the background. A prop, nothing more. Followers were the only thing that mattered.
A bead of cold sweat threatened to drip into her eye. She blinked it away, terrified to look away from the stage. Pinpricks of fear covered her back and, even in the armor, she was chilled to her core.
Training to fight angels was one thing.
Choosing to stand within a mile of where one was supposed to appear was insane. What were they even thinking?
She shifted her crouch, changing position. Ever since she Changed, couldn’t sit still. The energy that made her fast also seemed to make her want to move. All. The. Time. At least the torturous beauty regime of her old ‘job’ had prepared her for most of the jogging and hiking and daily exercise they were faced with.
That was one bright side to all of this. Of all the recruits she knew, she was probably the most prepared. She was fit, maybe even a bit of a gym rat. And God bless mom for getting her into martial arts as a kid. She’d let it fall to the wayside when she left high school, but that didn’t diminish that she’d entered the army with black belts in both Aikido and Judo.
Not that those skills helped her too much up against superhumans. She grimaced at the thought, frowning as she remembered the numerous times Claire, Peri, or Susan had just used their superior strength to overpower her greater skill. It was embarrassing having a kid like Peri, who was six inches shorter than her and couldn’t weigh more than 90 pounds soaking wet, sitting on top of her after a minute of sparring.
Sometimes she hated that little brat.
If she stayed out of their reach, she could wear them down eventually, or maybe get a throw or a trip when she dodged one of their swings. That was her best hope against their greater resilience and strength.
That anxiety she’d felt since they began was building in her stomach. God, she’d kill for a pumpkin spice latte with a couple of shots of tequila to calm her down. She chuckled mirthlessly. How shitty was it that she was basically a superhuman and because of that it took an entire bottle of tequila to get her to even remotely feel it? Joining the army had been a painful awakening, not only because of how difficult it was to get alcohol but then finding out that it no longer really affected her.
That was something she had in common with the kid, at least. She’d wept when she found the comforting booze no longer helped her cope the way it had these last several years. What a shitty superpower.
“Do you have eyes on the target Kimura?” Stone asked in his southern drawl over her earpiece.
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“No sir. Sorry, sir.” Her reply was automatic. Damn, they had brain-washed her well.
“All right, stay off the channel unless you spot the target.”
Yes sir, mister soldier sir. She rolled her eyes. What would they do to her if she ran away if the angel showed up? Would they put her in jail? Better jail than death though.
Searing agony shot through her skull like a bullet.
Oh, fuck. Oh no. She knew that feeling, that pressure that forced its way inside her skull, pressing her nerves against her eyes, her teeth. Everything in her skull felt like it wanted to escape by inflating until it broke free. She’d had her fair share of hangovers and migraines before Changing, but nothing like this.
And then it was gone. Her brain shrunk back to normal-sized and her eyes crawled back into their sockets. But the world was different in the wake of her agony. Everything was frozen around her. Nothing seemed to move. Dust hung in the air, like in a photograph.
Then she was blinded by a new sun forming in the center of the stage.
When the light receded, it was there. A fucking angel. Tall as the world and twice as broad. It was real. It was like the first time she’d seen one, only now she knew they were neither kind nor benevolent.
No one was doing anything, no one was giving orders. But her body was a live-wire. Her anxiety exploded through her limbs, followed by a surge of uncontrollable emotions and desires that nearly brought her to her knees.
A voice crackled over the com, but so slow and distorted, she barely recognized it. Weapon-fire erupted around the stadium, but she’d never seen anything like it. The fire rolled lazily out of the barrels and the bullets moved no faster than a runner might. She traced their glittering arc through the air and watched them crackles across the angel’s Logos Field.
Oh, shit, she was supposed to be doing something, not standing there with her mouth hanging open. Lifting her .50 cal, she was amazed by how light it felt, almost like nothing. A laugh bubbled up her throat as power like she’d never felt coursed through her. Holding the long machine gun like a rifle, she aimed at the angel and started firing rounds. The gun barked in a low, sonorous, tone, unlike anything she’d ever heard. Everything was distorted and the weapon wasn’t working the way she expected. Rounds were flying out of its barrel, but she could see them race towards the angel, even though they weren’t tracers.
Was the angel slowing the world down?
Bullets cracked into its Logos Field. A sphere of fire erupted around the angel as one of the 20mm rounds hit the field. The fire enveloped the field, washing around the glowing characters that circled the monster. Then, the claymores went off, spraying fire and smoke and millions of metal ball bearings that ripped up the stage and sparked across the field like brilliant bursting stars.
Then the angel was flying, leaping out of the cloud and into the balcony across from her. Watching it move, destroying the chairs as it flew towards its target, she saw the other soldiers unable to react to its movements.
It wasn’t slowing down time, she realized as she traced its flight with her gun, raining shells on it. She was going faster than even her normal supercharged speed allowed. She howled with laughter and ran towards the fight, dancing between the chairs.
What was she doing? Running towards an angel? Her fear was gone. In its place, she felt a mixture of joy and rage that pushed her beyond any sensible restraint.
Then half of a soldier’s body flew up in the air, spinning end over end, trailing blood in arcing ribbons that splashed and splatter across the angel’s Logos Field.
Fuck! The fear came back in a surging wave. What was she doing? Why did she think charging closer was a good idea? This was pointless, the gun wasn’t doing enough.
The angel was surging across the ground now, hunting new prey.
She pulled a grenade from her belt and let her .50 cal drop to hang around her shoulders by the strap. With her now free hand, she popped the pin and dropped it. She knew she shouldn’t let the grenade ‘cook’ and hold it while the timer ran down, but she also knew that her judgment of time was skewed. Counting to two, Kemi threw it towards where the angel was heading.
Too late she saw the angel was bearing down on someone and she could feel that it was one of the Changed.
“No,” she screamed, trying to call the grenade back to her hand.
As the grenade tumbled away from her, she knew that, sadly, it was not one of her powers.