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The HelixThe Helix
Chapter One
Crack, crack, crack, the sound of a gauss rifle sounded, telling me they had found me, and escaped my traps. Diving to the floor I produced a shiner which my father had given to me.
Hearing footfalls of the marines caused me to clasp the slim barrel of the shiner in my hand tightly to my chest. Checking the ammo I found its energy was nearly full, so I sat back and waited.
"He’s got to be here somewhere, after all this where Cyran said he would be," quipped a marine.
"Yup, he’s here. Look at the footprints, and the Reaper is here. The word on the street is he never goes anywhere without it, and would never leave it behind," replied a crisp voice of what probably was the commander.
Damn, damn it to hell. Why did I have to leave her here, why. She cost 500000 credits, it was worth the cost, but not my life. The Reapers short black barrel fitted with the dull black painted silencer sticking out the front of the gun, and the battle worn surface. Oh the things we had been through.
The tink, tink, tink, of gas grenades awoke me from me thoughts as I suddenly realized that they intended to smoke me out. Pulling on the weathered camo gas mask from under me, I fixed a laser sight to the bottom of the shiner.
"Let’s search in twos. Jimmy, go with Kirt; Wallis you and Smarts; and Gun’s with me. Lets get this over with."
The light of their helmets alerted me to where they were. After picking up the reaper I towards the sewer pipe which was my emergency exit. Yes. Once again I had escaped Lord Mern’s men.
"We got him boys," came a voice from the corner.
Hearing that, I ran fast, very fast. The pipe was half filled with gumbo which was littered with metal, fragments, bodies, and other such objects that someone wanted people never found. Although the water slowed me down I kept going, being sure to keep Reaper out of the gumbo and slime that occupied the catheter.
I ran so fast that I didn’t notice that my surroundings had changed from a sewer pipe to a green plateau. Stopping to listen for pursuers, I noticed that there was a pool next to me. Rippling the water became clear again. Looking into the pool I saw the company of marines.
"Bring in the Hunters, we’re going to flush out Kyrn," grumbled the leader of the marine company, "I guess that Jimmy was right, you can’t catch a renegade ghost with a bunch of hardheaded marines."
The leader continued to grumble but I had other thoughts on my mind, like the ghosts. This was getting worse, all I wanted to do was leave the Confederacy, but they twisted my name and persona making me out as a ruthless, efficient killing machine. Finally I gave in and became what they wanted me to be, a monster.
A few hours later I was consumed by sleep.
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Waking to the sound of chirping birds I checked my chrono watch for the time, and according to it I had slept for three days.
Getting up I removed all but my boots, pants, and under-shirt, I glanced over at the pool, now calmer than before, and remembered the words of the commander, “Bring in the Hunters, we’re going to flush out Kyrn.”
The Hunters were elite ghosts trained as assassins and to catch ‘Enemies of the State’, as the Confederacy put it.
The grass wavered in the slight breeze which had begun to chill me, so I put on my other shirt and walked toward a group of tall trees. About halfway there a rustling caught my attention. Looking over and seeing nothing, so I crouched down and waited.
"He’s here sir, what should we do," came a voice from about a hundred yards behind me. It was a cold and calculating voice, so cold that it chilled me to the depths of my soul. These were defiantly not the Hunters, they weren’t stupid enough to reveal their position to the enemy unless they were ordered to.
Turning slowly I positioned myself so I was facing toward the voice. Slipping Reaper of my back I adjusted the scope to infrared. Placing it against my eye, forty figures became apparent against the setting sun.
Lowering the scope from my eye, I saw the man fall, blood gushing from the wound. Suddenly the rest of the troop phased into existence. Armored from head to toe, the brigands started fanning out to search for me. Pressing the button to activate the cloaking device that was savior many a time before. The tell-tale red light flashed confirming my worst fears, low power. She’d have to recharge for a couple of days before she would be of any use to me so I traded it for Reaper.
"Keep close to one another," said a deep, salty voice coming from directly behind me,
"We picked up a transmission from the Errone. They send in the Great Hrunt."
The Great Hrunt, who were they. I thought, the Great Hrunt, the Great Hrunt, and where was Errone. Maybe they’re friendly. Then I realized, the ghosts. The captain had said that the Hunters would come. Banishing all thoughts of getting out of this alive, I stood up.
"Get him," shouted the same salty voice that I had heard before, "There he is. He killed Kifraku."
Thirty or so of the forty men turned and aimed their weapons at me. I could do nothing but surrender. I trudged across the field toward their commander. Dropping Reaper, I looked around at the faces. Their skin pulled tight against the gaunt faces stared back, hungry for the kill, to taste the blood of the one who killed their comrade.
Eyes staring, hands moving, a taller humanoid brought his gun to bear on me, drawing a bead, he began to squeeze the trigger.
"Rashaka," was the last thing I heard before darkness grabbed me in its clutches.
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