September 6, 2017
2.34 am, Cancun, Mexico
“CHIEF!” Quake shouts as he stands in the doorway.
A corpse, charred beyond recognition, lies in the center of the poorly lit room. Shade looms over Aviator as he performs CPR on the body. Spectrum has two fingers on what is left of the body’s right wrist, checking for a pulse. Yet Quake knows instinctively that the corpse is Fire because of the shoulders. His shoulders were their Atlas. But now it lays scorched and their world with it.
“28...29...30.” Aviator says. His countdown matching the chest compressions. He tilts Fire’s head, pinches Fire’s nose, parts Fire’s seared lips, then blows into Fire. He observes Fire’s chest rise then fall. Then repeats one more time.
“I’ve got a pulse!” Spectrum shouts with a sigh of relief, “Alhamdulillah!”
Aviator stops CPR and is helped up by Quake.
“It’s faint but he’s still in there.” Spectrum says.
“What the hell happened to the Chief?” Quake asks as he walks in.
“We found him in the middle of the incinerator.” Aviator answers.
“While it was still on.” Spectrum adds, “At max temperature.”
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Quake’s anger radiates through, “Fuck that Mad Scientist!”
“The surface?” Aviator asks.
“Secured.” Quake answers, “I will get the Chief up top.”
“You sure you can manage, blud?” Spectrum asks.
“Let the big man do his job.” Quake says, as he begins to prepare to carry the unconscious Fire.
Suddenly, the room grows chilly. All three men gradually turn their heads to the ominous aura. Shade. What was once silently boiling rage is now unbridled chilly killing intent.
“Abyss.” Shade says. She gradually walks towards the door. Upon reaching it, she sprints towards the stairwell.
Aviator dashes after her.
“Bloody hell.” Spectrum mutters as he stares at the door.
“Abyss is out.” Quake says, “Exactly the right personality to give those assholes hell.”
“Carry the Chief out.” Spectrum says, “I will try to hack into their systems to radio in aid.”
“Without any escorts?” Quake asks.
“I will just follow the trail of bodies Abyss leaves behind.” Spectrum says, raising his handgun.
Quake nods, then bends over to carry Fire in a fireman carry over his left shoulder. The smell of burned flesh assaults his nostrils. The soot of Fire’s melted flesh greases Quake’s neck.
“Just hang on a little longer, Chief.” Quake says.
“You got him?” Spectrum asks.
“Yeah.” Quake says with a handgun in his right hand, “Let’s roll.”
Spectrum takes the lead, walking out of the doorway and into the hallway. Soon, they arrive at the ajar stairwell door.
“Good luck.” Quake whispers as he heads upstairs.
“Inshallah.” Spectrum responds.
Gun pointed in front, Spectrum descends. The next floor down has the door wide open. There are two dead guards with the most brutal of deaths. Their cracked skulls have been forcibly ripped from their bodies. Massive blood splashes pools the floor and stains the walls. However, the bloody footprints do not lead inwards but go back and down the stairwell.
This floor should be the labs so communication systems shouldn’t be here, Spectrum thinks to himself as he examines the gory scene.
Hopefully, Abyss can still recognize friend from foe…, Spectrum says in his head as he descends down Abyss’s bloody trail.