Chapter 53
Alternating Altitudes
A heavily chained and manacled Frank entered the helicopter. Given his short stature compared to the other cultivators Frank didn’t even bow his head on his approach. Instead, he just continued to watch the other taller cultivators, who even while bowing their heads were still standing over top of Frank.
This was to be expected, for as long as Frank was still growing and cultivating, his body was expected to grow and expand to its perfect form.
That said, the dietary constraints of a subterranean resident, particularly a poor subterranean resident meant that Frank still had a long way to go until he would be on par with many of the cultivators at his realm.
Or at least that is how things should have been.
The only thing that people didn’t understand was the power granted to someone who completed the first pillar challenge.
Even now, chains that were set for his realm were light. Most cultivators would be at a complete loss of strength and ability due to the weight of the restraints and the material of the restraints. For in the chains were the lightest amounts of negatively charged energy.
Energy that many incorrectly considered to be death energy due to the chaotic and violent way it would often lead to the death of cultivators who were exposed to larger amounts of the strange material.
Frank for his part just stayed quiet, not wanting to give his captors any more reason to despise him.
While he had managed to get everything he wanted, that being a one-way trip to Death Row so he could easily get out and access the entrance to the second trial. The way he got to this conclusion might not have been the best.
The interrogating officer had gotten out of line, which was how Frank was able to deliver negatively charged particles to the body of the striking officer.
Once Frank knew where an attack would land, it was simple to divert and hold negative energy in that area and let the attacker do the work for him. After a successful infection, it just became a part of working with an advocate to get the desired outcome in writing.
Of course, things wouldn’t be that simple.
Just looking at the way the other cultivators glowered at Frank as he entered the helicopter told him that things were not going to go easy this trip.
The first thing that Frank noticed that was off was the fact that his chains were not bolted to the reinforced hull of the helicopter like last time. This meant that should the helicopter begin to fall from the sky, Frank would have one less obstacle to overcome to achieve his freedom. Unfortunately, it also meant that should the cultivators in charge of his travels wish to do anything during his flight, then it would be easy to do so.
Had this been the first time Frank was taken to prison, he likely would have overlooked this oversight. Now though, now Frank could read the room, he could feel the subtle animosity that seemed to radiate off of everyone around him.
Shucka-shucka-shucka.
The blades that had been rotating at a slightly relaxed pace suddenly began to increase in tempo, signifying that the helicopter was about to rise.
Taking a deep calming breath, Frank paused and suddenly realized that unlike last time, this time Frank felt calm.
Well not calm, but serene.
For the moment, Frank knew what to expect from this flight. The hidden hostilities that Frank felt were muted, but there. The sideways glare that all the cultivators had for him, the way they all kept perfectly silent. Not that talking over a helicopter moving at full speed was easy, but the group was unnaturally quiet.
Even the direct guards next to Frank seemed to make it a point to shift their bodies away from Frank, as if to give Frank the chance to move on his own. As if to let Frank decide when and where he would get off of this flight.
Reaching out with his mind, Frank realized that through his chains he could feel everything around him. And they were his chains, the fact that they had negatively charged metal in them all but ensured that Frank could easily cultivate over, around, and through the very chains that bound him.
Such a feat was supposed to be impossible. The idea of cultivating past the cultivator restraining chains was supposed to be impossible, the thing of ancient stories. That or the cultivator in chains would surpass their limits and be able to break free from the chains to subdue their captors.
While Frank didn’t think he could subdue his captors, he was certain that he could offer up a token resistance.
The fact that the chains didn’t cause even a slight feeling of vertigo or unease proved how much Frank had managed to push himself in the past few months. At least that is what Frank told himself.
Subtly over time, Frank began to notice a mounting tension growing. It was subtle, the aggressive planting of a foot, the sudden increase in cultivated energy. Small signs that all pointed towards minor but incrementally increasing tension.
Frank for his part tried to pretend like he was not aware of what was happening, closing his eyes but still using his ability to sense the world around him to let him know where and how things were going.
Slight jog to the right.
As they were flying, Frank felt the sudden change in direction of the craft. Again a minor change, whereas before they had been going on a straight line, now that line had veered off slightly causing the craft to go farther north, into the unclaimed wilderness.
Feeling the slight change in direction, Frank understood that now the tensions would start to get even higher as this would be the exact spot where someone would make a move.
The most notable change was that the far right and left doors were open to allow for airflow, a function that was performed for extremely hot days, but not on days that were cool like today.
Again, another possible oversight that would likely be noted in an after-action report, but not something that would be scrutinized too thoroughly. At least, that is what Frank noticed.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Realizing the open door, Frank also noticed how every cultivator present for his transfer detail had their shades drawn, likely to protect the wind that they knew would be blowing wildly.
Also of interest were the large packs that each cultivator had on their backs. Packs that Frank could almost assume were standard issue parachute bags. The ones with the quick release pull tabs.
While Frank wasn’t entirely certain of the fact of there being parachutes worn by helicopter passengers before, it wasn’t until he noticed the pull tabs on the backpack worn by the person to his right that caused Frank to realize his concerns were not entirely unfounded.
There were more subtle things too, like the way the cultivators aggressively blocked the left side of the hull. Being a full capacity load, there were enough seats for ten total people. Five in front of Frank, all facing Frank given the layout of the craft and its seats. Along with two others on the right and left side of Frank.
The only difference being that the people to Frank’s left side were leaning forward, looking like they were trying to communicate with each other, but after a few minutes of watching them stare at each other, it was clear that they were just there to seemingly give one direction to leave, the seemingly open right side of the helicopter.
Lurch.
Clink-clatter.
They had been going in such a straight line off course by a few degrees for so long that it took Frank a moment to realize when the helicopter began to rise up gradually.
The sudden shifting of elevation was enough to cause Frank to fall further back into his seat and to cause the links of his heavy binding chains to also rattle against each other, providing a minor source of noise over the roar of the rotors and the whipping sound caused by the air billowing in.
Almost at that moment, Frank felt the gaze of nine predators all glaring at him in some way.
It was clear that this was the buildup, that if there was going to be any actions taken, this would be the time when they would occur.
Frank for his part had not been lacking in his own preparations. Realizing what was happening, the fact that this was likely a hit of some kind, Frank had already prepared his own counter measures.
Now that his form of death was all but assured, Frank could only wait and hope that his preparations were enough.
Frank for his part just closed his eyes. Most might have thought this was so he could protect himself from the wind that was whipping in violently, causing any form of dust to burn and scratch at his eyes.
Yet, Frank had a different reason entirely of doing this, as closing his eyes made it easier for him to perceive the world around him. With this way, Frank could see the subtle flows of energy being drawn in, the way that the lead cultivator right in front of Frank seemed to be the most intensely focused of everyone.
The way his aura and energy all but screamed at him that violence was going to ensue.
Frank for his part realized that at the moment he had a lot of actions that he could take. For starters, he could slowly release poisonous negatively charged particles into the holding area that they were all in.
Or he could lash out with the chains, while there wasn’t enough negatively charged particles to do much with the manacles that currently bound his hands and feet together, he was certain that he could at least pop the locks and make minor movements of the chains. Particularly as the most intense doses of the negatively charged metals were in the parts that directly touched his wrists and ankles.
Apparently, these chains were meant to be somewhat disconcerting to normal cultivators. This was expressed in the way the other nearby cultivators, the ones that were meant to keep Frank pinned into his seat seemed to squirm and avoid the chains at all costs. These were subtle moves, ones that Frank might have missed entirely, had he not been looking for them. Now that he was aware of them, he could see the hesitation in over half of those gathered. Noting that only four or so people that were gathered truly wanted to do this, the others were seemingly here out of a perverse sense of obligation.
Leveling out.
Finally, after minutes of rising in altitude, the aircraft began to level out.
They were now up so high that the wind was ice cold as it whipped into the open hanger doors. Frank used that cold, focused on it for a moment to help him slow down his heart rate and prepare his mind for what was going to happen next.
Frank still had his eyes closed, a good thing too, for the whipping wind caused tears and snot to form his nose as he tried to use the cold to calm down his racing heart.
Click-clack.
The sound of the odd star shaped seatbelts unbuckling could be heard around him.
Pausing, Frank realized that he himself had not been properly fastened in with even the star shaped seatbelt. Another aspect he missed, not that it changed anything, not that it meant that this moment before him was not about to happen. Still, it was a sign that all the thoughts that Frank currently had running through his mind were correct.
That this was not meant to be a ride that Frank would survive.
There was a pause, a moment where everyone of Frank’s guard detail turned their attention directly to the man sitting across from Frank.
Again, Frank knew the man across from him, a Major if his visible rank was any indication, was in charge of this whole thing from start to finish. But their pause and looking towards him for affirmation of what would happen next only seemed to solidify Frank’s thoughts.
Then just before the Major said anything, Frank opened his eyes and let his cultivation flow within his body as his eyes opened wide to lock gazes with the soldier before him.
“So, is this where you pretend to have an accident and miraculously misplace a prisoner within your care?” Frank asked, his tone cold as he fought to speak up over the whipping air currents around him.
Hearing Frank speak for the first time since entering the craft, everyone turned to Frank.
“Do you enjoy it? Killing kids?” Frank asked.
By now Frank had already accepted what would happen, it was inevitable. He was a cultivator of a much lower realm than everyone present. This was why he could only use this time to stall for time.
The fact that Frank was going to get thrown out of the aircraft was not beyond him. He was not naïve enough to think that he would miss that fate, instead all he could do was hope that he got closer to his final destination. Each additional second wasted talking, was a few hundred feet closer to his end goal of being at Death Row.
“Child or not, we need to kill deserters. We need to send a message to others that avoiding conflict will not be tolerated.” The Major across from Frank spoke.
Hearing that Frank could only nod.
“So that’s your justification this time. I see.” Frank pressed.
“This time?”
“Yeah, you’ve clearly all done this before. You seem to relish it, while those over there,” Frank said pointing to the two soldiers who were on the left side. The side that had been closed off from the start. “They don’t seem to like being here. Perhaps you will do this to them, once you are done with low hanging fruit like dealing with children who were in the middle of tests.”
“You deserted your comrades. You allowed the base to be overrun.” The Major pointed out a fact that Frank had wondered about.
It seemed that the base had been completely decimated at one point, but for whatever reason the cultivators were able to escape the carnage by setting up pockets of resistance. Pockets that were ultimately avoided, but only after several of the oversized ants had been killed.
Then by the time Frank was done with his own advancement, the cultivators that were present managed to retake the remaining structures as their own. But there was something off to the energy.
Too much energy had made it past the base to show that any real resistance had been mounted. It was clear from the number of monsters that stormed past Frank’s bunker that had the beasts wanted to, they could have easily conquered and held the SERE compound. But for whatever reason, the insects didn’t, almost as if they were called to a distant place and went to that location with a religious fervor that was undeniable.
Now that Frank had this information, some things made sense, while others seemed to be somehow missing. Namely, where did the monsters go? But that was besides the point, right now Frank needed to distract for a bit longer so he could get just that much closer to his destination. Even if not going in a straight line towards his target, he could roughly feel where the next destination was and for the most part, they were all still heading in that general direction.
“So you’re what? The morality police? Cutting down cultivators who you think didn’t do anything, despite not being at the area yourself?” Frank pressed.
“You were gone for days, only to come back with pristine clothing and a wounded soldier on your side. A soldier who said you only appeared after two days of attacks.” The Major said.
Hearing that Frank could only nod, as he assumed there had been some time needed for his cultivation breakthrough and reworking of his meridians. Now that he had time to think about it, two days seemed oddly fast, all things considered.
“This is because I only saved one? Was there a quota needed to avoid being keelhauled?” Frank pressed.
Blur.
That was the last bit of backtalk the Major could stand, as he rocketed to life. His hand snaking out and grabbing Frank’s neck so quickly and violently that he almost thought his neck would pop off.
Instantly, Frank had his arms up draped over and around the Major’s massive arms. Arms that seemed like they could crush boulders if used properly.
Frank felt his body rip up from his seat, and the next thing he knew, his body was dangling out from the helicopter.
The Major had his left hand braced against the open doorway, Frank noticed all of this, as he let the actions play out.
Even now, Frank could see the slight strain occurring to the Major’s arm. An arm that had been able to easily lift and move Frank a moment ago, was now already feeling the effects of the manacles that bound Frank. Manacles that seemingly had no effect on Frank whatsoever, while clearly having a slight effect on the Major and a feeling of unease by the others that had been sitting around Frank for the whole flight.
“No, this is because we cannot afford to be weak.” The Major said, a note of finality to his words as he was clearly speaking for the rest of his team. A team of onlookers who just stared at the two of them.
Realizing that this the moment he had been expecting, Frank acted. Despite having a strong hand clasping his windpipe shut so he couldn’t say anything else, Frank was calm.
Knowing that the next few seconds would likely either save Frank’s life or relegate him to a one way trip to the ground. One where he would not be able to survive, if he landed from this height. Still, despite all that was at stake, Frank focused his mind and reacted, going through the movements that he had planned out this entire ride thus far.
Clink-pop.
Lost to the whipping sounds of the wind rushing past and the rotary wings spinning about wildly, locks could be heard unlatching themselves. Locks that then quickly clamped shut a split second later.
This was it, Frank’s one chance.
Frank felt his focus shift forward slightly, as he momentarily got closer to the helicopter, then a moment later, he felt inertia take him as he was violently hurled forward, off into the depths of enemy controlled and polluted territories.
Slink, slink, clip.
The long heavy chains that had bound Frank snaked out violently through the helicopter. As all the still sitting cultivators raised up their feet, in an effort not to be caught by the wildly whipping chains. Even the Major lifted up his own left foot in an attempt to avoid the chain. Only to realize a moment too late that something was attached to his leg.
Fwoop.
Then with a sudden jerk, Frank’s body met the end of the massive chain, causing Frank’s plan to finally come to light.