CHAPTER 87

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Stryker sat on a bench in the train station. The station was deserted, but any observer would quickly be able to decipher that his mood was anything but buoyant. He sat leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. One hand was closed in a fist, the other wrapped around it. He was staring at the concrete pavement in front of him with a destructive intensity.

He looked up as he heard O’Conor approaching. The slender man was moving towards him with a cool, leisurely pace. A duffel bag dangled from one hand. Stryker returned his attention to trying to melt the pavement with his stare.

‘That could have gone better,’ O’Connor said, placing the bag on the ground, and sitting down alongside Stryker.

‘Yeah.’

‘Not sure that was really worth doing.’

‘We got something outta it.’

‘Did we?’

Stryker looked up. ‘We got some names.’

‘The name of a long dead Russian scientist, and some kind of codename?'

Stryker shook his head slowly. He said, ‘It had to be done.’

‘Really? I’m not so sure. What was the point of all that?’

‘I needed to look him in the eye, Con.’

‘Are we going back?’

‘To finish it?'

O’Connor began to roll a cigarette. He said, ‘You said you wanted to kill him.’

‘I don’t need to kill him.’

‘Then, again I'll ask, what was the point of all of that?'

‘Con… I needed closure.’

‘Closure that required sniper support?’

‘I might have wanted to kill him. I’ll tell ya this, he wasn’t going to give us shit without ya. He’d have just blown me away with all those guns.’

O’Connor ran his tongue along the edge of the cigarette paper and said, ‘‘That raises another point.’

‘What’s that?’

‘How did he know we were coming?’

‘Huh?’

Lighting the cigarette and taking a deeply satisfying pull on it, O’Connor said, ‘He had an army waiting for you. He met you in the courtyard, didn’t let you inside. He let you walk right into the middle of all of those guns. He knew you were coming.’

‘He knows me.’

‘I know you too. I couldn’t have set that up. That ambush was more than just intuition.’

‘How could he know I was coming?' Stryker said.

A voice spoke from behind them, ‘It’s your phone, you moron. We gave it to you. We can listen to you, and track you. Track you all the way here.’

Stryker and O'Connor stood up quickly and turned around. Behind them stood Ralph and three other members of the order. Each of the men was holding a firearm.

Ralph did not waste another breath. He pointed the massive shotgun he was holding at Stryker's chest and fired. Stryker's front exploded in blood and he fell backward onto the concrete.

O’Connor stood to face the men alone.

CHAPTER 88

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The big hybrid was huge beyond compare. He towered over Homer. The newcomer must have been in the region of ten feet tall, maybe more. He was as wide as Homer was tall, most of eight feet from shoulder to shoulder. The creature was less human looking than Homer. It wore no clothes, save for a series of belted pouches. His face was much closer to that of a gorilla, his skull was distended. Its fur was black. This thing was a living nightmare.

Homer rose to battle again, but he was already struggling to fend off the nausea caused by Metis's psychic storm. The huge beast struck and sent him tumbling backward again. Then the creature turned its attention up the slope and charged. Two of its comrades charged with it, while the other two attacked the remaining zombie soldiers.

Ardia and Abraham brought their rifles to their shoulders to fire. As the three creatures thundered across the open space, they were exposed. It was the best, maybe the only, chance to stop them. As Ardia squeezed the trigger another psychic wave shocked her mind. She saw the barrel of her weapon sway and go wide as her vision was washed away. This time it was an image from Slayer's mind. He was sitting in a kitchen, a red-haired woman standing in front of him. This was a different woman to the first, this one was older but still quite beautiful. Slayer was peeling an orange, and trying to talk calmly with her. There was a sensation of sadness that accompanied the memory and Ardia felt that the woman would die shortly after the end of the memory.

They flashed back to reality. Ardia regained her sight just as the big one reached her. His gigantic hand knocked the rifle from her. She dodged back from him, quicker than he was, and tried to hit him. She moved under his huge swinging arms and hit him in the ribs. He was more solid than even Homer could dream of being. It felt like she had landed a punch on the proverbial immovable object. But he felt it, she saw the surprise in his eyes.

Then he struck her in the face and she flew backward, striking her head on a boulder. Then, for Ardia, for now, all was blackness.

Abraham flashed back from the memory-vision as one of the creatures leaped onto the boulder he was using for cover. From the corner of his eye, he saw the biggest one reach Ardia, and the other one sprint for the cave.

He kept his attention on the creature in front of him. This was to be his only concern for now. This thing was almost as big as Homer. It resembled him but it had a more beast like quality about it. Its hair was thicker, the face more feral. It wore no clothes.

He fired up at it, diving backward at the same time. A series of ragged holes leaped into existence along the thing's chest. It collapsed to the dusty ground in front of him. He emitted a ragged gasp. He turned to level his rifle at the huge one that was attacking Ardia. He saw that she was attempting to fight it with her fists. As strong as she was, he had to assume that was a futile effort.

Before he could fire, his ankle was grasped. The other one was still alive. It had blood oozing from its mouth, and its eyes were glazing, but it was still alive and so very, very strong. It jerked him towards it and he leveled his rifle at it. The gun clicked empty.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

He wriggled, his ankle still trapped, to avoid what would have been a fatal blow from the creature's free hand. Then his sidearm was in his hand. A Colt M1911. Only seven rounds, but each one was a sizable .45 caliber. He fired all seven into the thing's face and shoulders, not thinking to save one or two for the hulk that was battling Ardia.

The creature lay still.

Abraham rolled over in time to see Ardia fly through the air and smash her head on a boulder. As the hulk approached her, Abraham leaped to his feet.

Homer rolled to his feet as one of the hybrids charged him. This one was smaller, closer to his own size. He charged it back, smashing into it with his shoulder. The impact was like a car crash. He felt something snap in the other creature and it spun away from him, into the dust. He crouched to pounce on it, when he felt Metis’s mind touch his.

He had been plagued, as the others had been, by the images and memories. As he felt her mind touch his, he braced himself for another onslaught. Instead, he heard Metis’s voice.

‘Homer! Kill the men with the scars. There is no hope of beating the hybrids without me. Kill them, and I can help.’

He spared a flicker of a heartbeat to consider the creature sprawled on the dirt in front of him. His pride was badly shaken by the ease with which the big one had discarded him, he badly wanted to assert his dominance by crushing this other. When he considered having to face the big one again, he understood that he would very much like to have Metis’s help.

He moved towards the last cluster of soldiers, where they had been entrenched behind a cluster of boulders. As he rounded the corner of one huge rock he was greeted by a scene of gore. They were all dead, all save one. Their bodies were scattered and torn. In the midst of the bodies was another hybrid. It stood over one last soldier. This one lay on the ground, very much alive, with two arms and two legs that had very obviously been crippled on purpose.

‘We need one alive, at least, to keep the witch from touching us,’ the hybrid spoke in a voice as deep as Homer’s.

Homer nodded, understanding. He spared no words. He charged. The other hybrid responded with glee, and rushed to test itself against him.

The massive hybrid called himself Hercules. It was the name his father had given him.

He looked down at the woman before him. He knew it was of great urgency that he enter the cave and capture the witch. But he was fascinated by her. His ribs still ached from where she had struck him. He had never met, never imagined, a human that could do such a thing. It stung him, stuck in his craw. He advanced on her, stooping to pick up a rock the size of a grown man's torso. He held it in one tremendous hand, completely unaware of its weight.

He stood over her for one more moment, considering her. Then he raised the rock for the killing blow.

Suddenly the other man, the Jew, was on the ground between him and the woman. He held his arms out, protecting her. Hercules felt the psychic wave rolling out on him from the cave, he felt the thoughts being plucked from this man’s mind, felt them being shoved into his own. He staggered slightly, the rock slipped benignly from his hand to strike the ground with a thud.

He felt the man's thoughts and emotions. He understood, then, the futile gesture the man made when he threw himself on the ground, sacrificing himself for the woman. He loved her. The thought of it made Hercules want to laugh. How could he hope she would return such attention? She might only have been human, but relative to his measly form, she was a goddess. More emotions lashed Hercules's psyche. He felt jealousy and bitterness flashing from the man. These feelings were centered around the hybrid that accompanied them, the one called Homer. Hercules knew all about Homer.

Then the lashings passed. Hercules was looking down at the man and the unconscious woman. He thought fast, as his father had taught him to do. He knelt over the man and dipped his own hand into one of his pouches. From it, he slipped a tiny object that he tucked into the pocket of the man's shirt. The man looked on helplessly, himself dazed from the psychic wave that had shoved his thoughts into the other thing's mind.

‘We can remove him. Think about it,' Hercules spoke in his own version of a whisper.

Abraham’s eyes registered understanding in the moment before Hercules knocked him unconscious. Hercules did this by flicking him in the forehead with a massive finger.

Slayer and Razmik retreated into the cave as the hybrid continued to advance. The creature moved like Homer, quickly leaping left and right, avoiding their fire. It closed on them with terrifying speed.

Slayer's gun clicked on empty and he scrabbled to reload. Beside him, Razmik's fired one more burst before it, too, ceased firing. The creature was on them. In the darkness of the cave, it was just a massive shadow.

The creature body checked Slayer, sending his sprawling to the ground. Razmik backed up, ejecting the empty magazine from his rifle with one hand, drawing his sidearm with the other hand. The creature slapped the pistol from his hand, and Razmik took another step backward, feeling the cold finality of the cave wall press against his back. No more retreat. Adrenaline surged as he continued with the only process that seemed to make sense to him, reaching for a full magazine at his belt.

The creature drew back a fist and Razmik saw his death in it. He had seen Homer’s strength. He assumed this thing shared it. One blow from that fist would crush his skull, or splinter his ribcage. It would be like being struck by a speeding car.

Then another shadow was before him, launching itself onto the creature. The guardian lion had entered the fray. It was stunning how little effect such a magnificent creature could have. The hybrid did make a roar of pain as teeth and claws bit into. It staggered back a step or two. Then it seized the animal and tossed it away. The lion probably weighed 600lbs, the weight of three large men. The hybrid tossed it aside like a toy.

Razmik spared a glance to Metis. She was sprawled on her rock, writhing in some unknowable agony. But her eyes were open, she was watching. Razmik mouthed a ‘thank you' to her. The lion had not come close to stopping the hybrid. But it had bought them time. As the hybrid returned its attention to Razmik it found itself staring at a reloaded assault rifle. A click from the corner where Slayer had fallen announced that he had successfully completed his reload as well. The creature turned to avoid the fire and was caught in two streams of bullets. The cave roared with the light of the fire, the creature was illuminated in a stream of orange light as it twitched and jerked. Each rifle carried a magazine of thirty rounds. The creature's body absorbed thirty, from each gun. Neither Razmik nor Slayer stopped firing until their weapons were clicking empty again. They were taking no chances.

The creature collapsed on the ground. Razmik let out a shuddering sigh. He looked across the cave floor at the lion and saw that it was completely inert. Then he could not see it at all as the light from the entrance of the cave was completely excluded. A monstrous shape had filled the mouth of the cave, and it ran straight at them, covering the distance in heartbeats.

As it ran, Razmik saw his death again. This was a freight train of a creature, he saw it coming like a driver sometimes sees a car accident. Everything moving too quickly to allow for a reaction, and yet somehow adrenaline allowed for time to pass with a cruel slowness.

Razmik watched Hercules bolt towards him, and he closed his eyes.

Homer left little doubt about the competition. The other hybrid was as large as he was, but like the first, it was inexplicably inferior to him. When they charged each other, the impact sent the stranger staggering backward. Homer combined his huge hands into one giant fist and swung at it with the strength of two arms. The blow connected with the creature's head and it went down like a lead weight.

Homer stood for a moment and gathered his breath. His mind replayed the last minutes. He had met three more creatures, just like him. Two had fallen to him with ease. But his pride could not escape the way the big one had discarded him with such little effort.

Homer pounced on the disabled soldier on the ground. Grabbing it by the torso, he picked it up in one hand. The zombie-like face that looked back at him seemed to have no awareness of pain from its broken limbs. Homer had enough understanding of what had been done to this man to feel pity. As he broke the man's neck he did not feel anger, nor did he feel hatred. All he felt was pity and an expression of mercy.

In the cave, Metis suddenly jerked upright. She screamed with a scream that was voice and mind. The sound, or the sensation of it, was otherworldly. It seemed to pierce right through Razmik.

Her scream echoed off the walls of the cave, 'STOP!'

Hercules skidded to a halt. He stood suddenly like a statue. Not one muscle in his insanely massive body so much as twitched. Razmik could discern an expression of sudden realization and defeat on the creature’s face.

For his part, Razmik could feel himself frozen by the command as well. He marveled at the power this being held. He did not have to look out the cave entrance to know that every remaining combatant out there was frozen as well.

Metis gathered herself. Razmik could see she was nearing the limit of her stamina. She focused all of her attention on the massive creature. Slowly and carefully she said, ‘Hercules… Go. Go home. All of you.’

Razmik remained frozen, but the monster moved. It turned, robotically, and scooped up the bullet-riddled corpse of its companion. Then it trudged away.

Metis sank to the stone surface limply. Her eyes flickered shut and she lay still. Her chest continued to rise and fall with trembling slowness.

It was many minutes before her unintended command for stillness was shaken from those that remained. When it finally passed, and Razmik could move again, he staggered to the cave mouth. Slayer moved to Metis, his shoes dragging uncertainly on the pebbles and stones of the cave floor.

Outside, the battle was over. Homer was himself, just returning to movement. Abraham was stirring, Ardia sitting up and looking dazedly around at the surroundings.

All of the hybrids were gone. The slope was littered with the dead and bloodied corpses of the zombie soldiers.

The battle was done.