The H.E.S.P. squad set up a temporary base inside of the convenience store. A few of the soldiers removed their helmets to take furtive swigs of water, eyeing our group distrustfully. I counted fourteen men and women, each fully geared in tactical black body armour and weaponry. At least one of these guns was always pointed in our direction. I did my best to ignore it as I helped Terry sit up against a shelf. His temple was bruised badly where he’d been hit by a rubber bullet and there was a cut on his chin from being shoved into the concrete. Graham was in worse shape; his face was so swollen I couldn’t see his eyes. He breathed laboriously but didn’t so much as flinch as Richard examined his wounds. Zola was pale, with blood seeping through the rags we’d wrapped his arm in, yet he gave me a cheery smile and wave when he noticed me looking.
“We need first aid supplies,” Richard said. “Bandages, painkillers, disinfectant.”
I nodded. “I’ll ask them.”
Terry chuckled. “Don’t count on their charity, Nick. A four-year-old could read that body language. Any of us so much as reach to scratch our back and they’ll put us in the dirt.”
I believed it. The soldiers kept their distance, muttering to each other in small groups. They weren’t happy about giving us a chance. I could only imagine the horrors they had seen tonight.
Rising, I walked towards the nearest group. The Captain intercepted me with a raised arm. There were two soldiers flanking him. The black tinted glass of his helmet was raised so I could see his hawkish eyes. “Time to prove your theory, Phage. We’ve scouted a clone a few blocks south of here.”
“My friend needs medical attention.”
He nodded and said something to the soldier behind him. They reached into a bag and handed him a small red and white first-aid pack. He tossed it over my shoulder and it landed at Richard’s feet.
“They can patch themselves up, but they stay here until you return,” he said while staring at me as if daring me to protest.
I glanced back at AJ. He was putting on a brave face from underneath his hood pulled low, like a turtle tucked into its shell.
“Alright, lead the way,” I said.
“Follow,” he ordered me and then he motioned for the two soldiers to move. The shift in posture of the soldiers was immediate and they began moving south, guns raised. I followed them while Shaping my armour. The Captain followed behind me.
The H.E.S.P. operatives moved with fluid synchronicity. Hand signals dictated the movement and intent of the leading soldier who would trade off if he needed to clear a corner or open window. The following soldier would move to cover him as he shone his flashlight into the unknown space. Then the flashlight would blink off and they would move on, quickly, efficiently, noiselessly.
We came to a storefront with a large window that had been smashed in. The high-power flashlight cut into the store and I saw movement behind a table. The soldiers acted in unison, one boosting the other so as to not step on any glass and make noise while passing through the window. Once inside, the soldier assisted in supporting the other to cross quietly. They flanked the table, flashlights turning on as they pincered their target.
A voice burst into sobs as they were found. The soldiers spoke a few words before returning to the window.
“Two non-Shaped civilians in hiding,” the soldier told the Captain. “They’ve been instructed to stay put and stay silent.”
The Captain nodded his approval.
“We’re not going to evacuate them? I asked.
“That would just put them and us in more danger,” the Captain said. “We can’t evacuate anyone at this point. Too many people trapped, some with good intentions, but the Beacon can turn anyone into a threat.”
“Then stopping the Beacon is the only answer. Why hasn’t H.E.S.P. dedicated everything to that? Do you even know where it is?”
“That’s not for you to know,” the Captain said, anger tightening his voice.
It was odd that after interacting with so many people steeped in criminality, it was those in authority that rubbed me the wrong way. “Fine,” I said, turning away. “You have orders to follow. But the fact that you’re giving me this chance tells me you want to stop these guys as badly as I do.”
“Sir,” one of the soldiers interrupted. “We’re nearing the spot.”
The captain turned and motioned the two soldiers forward. We moved to the end of the street and just before reaching the corner we went into an apartment building. There were bullet holes in the walls and more than a few bodies strewn about. My eyes watered at the smell. We ascended the stairs, stepping carefully over corpses. I couldn’t see them well in the darkness, but not all of these were Rings. Some were just people, inhabitants of this apartment even.
One of the soldiers waited for me at the top of the stairs while the Captain knocked on an apartment door.
“Sickening, ain’t it?” the soldier asked me quietly.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“You know the fuckers that did this?”
“I’ve met some before.”
“And?”
I was trying not to look down at the body near my foot. “And what?”
“Did you make them hurt?”
I looked up at his black visor, searching for some context where there was none.
“Didn’t get the chance,” I said flatly.
The soldier watched me for a moment before nodding, apparently satisfied with my response. “Our scientists have theories about what on earth is going on. You want my take? These murderers aren’t human. They’re demons who’ve escaped the fires of hell. Some of them can’t even hide their horns. We’re gonna bring hell to them.”
My stomach turned and I was glad he couldn’t see my face either.
The door the Captain stood in front of opened and he beckoned for me to follow him in. Inside, there was another H.E.S.P. operative. She was just sitting back down in a chair by the window, a long barreled gun in her hands. She looked through the scope. “Target is still in the store. You haven’t missed much.”
I moved to the window and saw where he was looking. A store on ground level with big neon letters “LIQUOR” blinking on the front. The lights inside the store were on, highlighting the red streaks of blood along the white floor.
“Why not surveil with drones?” I asked quietly.
“The Beacon knocks them out within a couple of waves. We can only use them for short periods of time.”
Then I heard Alek’s voice coming from the store. He was singing some dirty drinking song at the top of his lungs.
The Captain touched my shoulder. “Get to it then. We can’t be wasting any time here.”
I swallowed and took out Alek’s phone to make sure it was still functional. “And if it works? Then the plan is a go?”
“I’ll give you no promises. I can’t afford them, given the circumstances.”
“Fine.” I climbed out the window and dropped to the windowsill below. I caught this briefly to halt my fall before letting go and landing on the street washed with the green glow from the sign. Alek had stopped singing. I observed the interior for a moment.
An arm protruded from an aisle, the fingers bent and broken. Alek emerged from that same aisle, head tilted back, pouring the contents of a wine bottle messily into his mouth. He hummed as he drank.
I approached and tried the door. A bell jingled as I slipped through. Alek’s eyes slid lazily over to observe me. The bottle left his lips, spilling wine over his ripped shirt.
“You’re a mean-looking motherfucker,” he said, grinning. “Which Ring?”
“Gambler’s,” I said, absorbing the bone around my fingers so I could tap on the phone’s touchscreen.
He winced sympathetically. “Eesh. It’s not looking good for your team. Last I heard, Sullivan’s own men turned on him. The anger is stronger for Shapers like us. Hard to control without a little drink in you.”
I gestured at the broken hand on the floor. “Controlling yourself well, I see.”
Alek gave me a crooked sneer and dropped the bottle to the floor. It clinked and rolled away as he moved down another aisle. “You know, I’m not a very smart man.” His voice carried over the tops of the aisles as he moved.
“I racked my brain for a way to get back at Helen for ruining me. But her power, if anything, it works better on me than other people. I see her face everywhere I go. Yet she doesn’t see me.”
Anger warred with sympathy in my head. “I’ve heard this all before, Alek. You aren’t different from your clones. You can’t seem to break free of her. None of you can.”
“So!” Alek shouted from the back of the store. “I decided to just kill every person I come across. It gives me a little satisfaction, each time I watched her die. But… the face changes back after you kill them. So, I decided to stop looking at them after. Better to imagine I’ve caught her… again and again.”
I clutched my trembling fists. “Tearing others apart because you can’t bear to be alone.”
Alek’s face popped back into view, a bottle in his grasp. “That’s the human condition, no?”
“No!” I said, a little too loudly. “Fuck that. Please, Alek. Please listen to me. You can change. Find new passions. Find new love.”
Alek’s face grew stony. “You talk like a bitch. That’s disappointing. That armour is metal as fuck and I was itching for a good fight.”
“Please,” I said softly. “I know what comes next.”
A wave pushed through the store, stirring up tension like a gust of wind kicking dust into the air. “You don’t get to decide that!” Alek roared, cracking the bottle against a shelf, spraying himself with blood-red liquor. He licked his lips and pointed the shattered bottle at me. “The strong decide what happens.”
“That is such bullshit.”
“You know it’s true. We’ve met before, haven’t we?” He shook his head, spraying droplets of wine. “Or maybe you met another version of me. Either way, I get the feeling we’re alike. I can tell. You love the violence.”
“Stop!” I shouted, my finger hovering over the play button. “I’m so sick of hearing that! God, how does this keep happening? I’m so sick of fighting these twisted, fucked in the head men who think we’re similar! I’m not like you.”
“Easy way to find out,” Alek taunted. “Take that mask off.”
I did. The antlers peeled back from my face. I was surprised when the open air made me feel the tears on my cheeks. My emotions had gotten away from me. “I’ve heard enough,” I said. Then I tapped play.
Alek was about to reply when the heavy metal music blared to life. He cocked his head quizzically. An intense drumbeat rippled across the store. Alek’s eyes widened in recognition before he spat wine into the air. A silver rod followed shortly after.
“What the fuck?!” he shouted.
I skipped to the next song. Lyrics screamed raw from the phone. Alek staggered, holding his throat as another rod slid out.
Next song. Guitars shredded and squealed. Rods plinked to the ground next to empty wine bottles and vomit.
Next song. And then another. Alek was on his hands and knees. He tried to reach down and pick one of the rods up. I stepped forward and kicked him, sending him sprawling onto his back. More songs. More forks forcing his mouth open. As I reached the last song I looped back to the first. Alek was gasping for breath between heaves. Anger bubbled in my throat. I tapped the next song, and then the next, and then-
A gunshot cracked across the small space, cutting through the noise. Alek’s head jerked backwards and he slumped immediately to the ground. My hands dropped to my sides, the song sounding distant. Alek’s blood poured from his head, mixing with his victims on the floor.
Soldiers passed me to check on the body.
“You killed him,” I said. I’d meant to say something else, something more meaningful but my brain was buzzing like a beehive.
“Yup,” the soldier said coldly. “Only a hundred or so left to go.”
The operatives confirmed the kill and began moving back towards the base. I followed after them as the cost of stopping the Tree solidified into a coherent thought. It would require the death of Alek, again and again.
Until there was none of him left.