Novels2Search
The Prime Candidate
Chapter 3: What Goes Up…

Chapter 3: What Goes Up…

Atlas fell closer to the cliff face than the beast. His perception of time had slowed to a veritable crawl as they both dropped. He watched with a sense of detachment, as if this were happening to someone else, his jacket flapping wildly around him as he fell. It felt like a dream, a hellish, confusing nightmarish dream. He closed his eyes and consoled himself that life was a problem that wouldn’t be troubling him for much longer anymore. He briefly recalled a line from The Hitchhikers Guide to The Galaxy, it was something about finding oneself in a situation of certain doom and life being good to him so far or something like it. He couldn’t remember. He thought…

Atlas hit the ground and thought no more.

***

Xeraal was ecstatic. As a bounty hunter this “Game” was perfect for him. When he was given the choice of an Item and a Power. Naturally, he chose a tracking power, the ability to locate the nearest Prime Candidate was the natural choice, only a fool would choose something else. For his item he asked for a top-of-the-line MCX4899 Phase Rifle, that bad boy would penetrate damn-near anything. The five-foot-tall green skinned alien grinned, his bulbous head with its large black eyes grinning, his thin needle-like teeth bared in a facsimile of a smile and cocked his rifle. This was going to be fun.

Xeraal came to a cliffs edge and frowned. His candidate sense had already allowed him to remove a competitor already, a quadruped that seemed to sense its surroundings through other means than sight, the obvious lack of eyes lead him to that conclusion. It now led him here. ‘They must be hiding, coward,’ his eyes narrowed. Checking the landscape at the bottom of the ravine with his rifles scope, checking both the river and the surrounding area. Frowning once more Xeraal moved into the canopy above to a site he planned to use for an ambush. If it was a waiting game that he needed to play he’d win, he’d make sure of it. All he needed to do was wait for his prey to expose themselves.

***

Atlas awoke in excruciating pain. His legs were fluctuating between debilitating numbness and crippling pain, his head was pounding, and he could barely breathe. He cracked a smile. He was still alive and there was nothing he couldn’t bounce back from – other than death itself, but then again, that would come later. His body was itching all over as his ability worked to repair and improve his body, he figured that all critical organs were seen to first before waking him up. Allowing his shallow, laboured breathing to act as a focus to centre himself Atlas looked within at the whirling core of golden energy. It was bigger by about half and its energy output was doubled. He knew the damage was bad but to push him to the 2nd Threshold was insane – and he wasn’t done healing yet either. How much damage did he take? How much stronger would he become because of it?

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The hours passed by as Atlas healed, at some point it started to rain. Not lightly either, this was the dense, heavy rain of the Jungle Tropics. He couldn’t have been more thankful. All the blood, his blood, which had pooled around him was being washed away. The sticky congealed mess that surrounded him slowly began to bleed away and mask its stench. Atlas held open his mouth, wide as he could without further exacerbating his injuries, to be greedily collect the fresh rainwater. He knew his power would not protect him from food or water deprivation for a few Thresholds yet. He still smiled though, Second Threshold was a big milestone for him, it meant he had surpassed his species. He was literally superhuman!

“Few more hours and I should be able to scale the cliffside back to the sword and grab my shit.” He quietly croaked to himself before gently closing his eyes and letting the warm refreshing rain wash over him.

***

Earth watched as their chosen champion fell. Each agonising moment he spent in the air felt surreal. They all knew he had a weapon and a power but not the specifics. The Sword he could not wield was clearly his weapon of choice, many an article had been written about what for and whys of that choice. His power on the other hand had yet to be exposed, and from the spectacle playing out before their very eyes, it became clear that the power of flight was not what he had chosen. Collectively around the world they all shared the same thought, every man, woman, and child cried out internally,” We were doomed before it even began!”

They watched as Atlas kicked the wolf away and tucked himself in the foetal position with his feet to the ground. Moments before he crunched into a small outcrop, a ledge just big enough for his now mulched body. Breathe held they waited for annihilation. It never came. 20 mins went by before the internet exploded; he was still breathing. Hours went by and people went about their days in subdued silence, anxiously checking the live stream every chance they got. He was healing! Bone shards that had pierced his jeans slowly drew back in. His chest inflated gradually as ribs re-aligned themselves. Arms slowly straightened and re-located joints popped infrequently. Then he woke. He WOKE! Cheers echoed around the globe; humanity still had hope yet. Speculation about his power flared up to a fever pitch once more as people tried to puzzle out what it was or how it worked. It clearly involved healing but was that all? How far did it go? Did it have a timer? With no answers forthcoming all they could do was watch.

***

Xeraal’s eyes narrowed as he finally felt the presence move. Once his prey started to move, he could more accurately pinpoint its location, it was heading up the cliff face towards him. ‘Clever,’ he thought, hiding partway down in a cave. Let’s see what you can do.’ Slowly he adjusted his aim to where the candidate would show up.