Induction (The Age of Man Book 1) Read online

  Dante’s guards fired at the horde trying to shove their way towards the staircase, keeping the desperate throngs at bay while their leader ascended to the next floor. When they were clear of the landing, the group found themselves wheezing and trying to rub the irritation from their eyes. While they had avoided the bulk of the horror, they had still come into brief contact with the mystery gas.

  “Well…,” coughed Dante through a twisted smile. “Look who finally took the gloves off.”

  Dr. Reya pulled the canteen out of her rucksack and began to flush her eyes with the distilled water sloshing around the metal canister. Taking note, many of the others began trying to rinse their eyes clear as well. It helped, but the irritation persisted.

  “Add that to the list of kindnesses that I must repay the good doctor,” said Dante, blinking through the red eyes that the gas had caused. “I’m going to make sure that he gets a taste of his work once I get my hands on him. I think I’ll cut his eyes out as slowly as I can to give him a little idea of how exactly that feels. Now let’s go. We have work to do.”

  The group approached the command center as the door finally gave way to the breach charges placed on it by the forward strike team. While the metal had put up a valiant fight, in the end it was no match for determination and brute force, and it came crashing to the ground with a loud thud. The breaching party tossed smoke and tear gas canisters into the open room, trying to flush out the high value prisoners for their leader to do with as he pleased. As Dante made eye contact with one of the men who had managed to unseal the entryway, a blast took the Crusader technician clean off of his feet and spiraled him out onto the ground. Shot after shot flew out of the thick, white smoke towards the invaders.

  “Kill them all, but leave General Bismuth and Dr. Nightrick for me,” yelled Dante as he ducked behind a nearby wall. Dr. Reya scampered next to the zealot, cradling her rifle in the off chance that Dante’s guard was defeated.

  As the gas finished filling the command chamber, General Bismuth charged out like a raging lion, followed by the rest of the commanders that had been pinned down there. The general caught one of the Crusader gunmen off guard and slammed him into the wall with his heavy frame. He grabbed the frightened man’s head with both meaty hands and twisted so hard that it was a miracle the appendage managed to stay attached to the rest of the body. He snatched his broken enemy’s weapon out of the now limp hands and continued firing, tossing aside the twitching corpse. Even as the rest of the war council succumbed to the wave of Crusaders that had washed over them, Bismuth continued his personal rampage, killing man after man without a second thought. Whenever he ran out of ammunition in one weapon, he’d simply toss it aside and break someone else with his bare hands before continuing to fight on with theirs. Almost all of Dante’s guards died trying to neutralize the Special Branch commanders, but the zealot himself had the good sense to stay behind cover with Dr. Reya until the coast was just about clear. When he could finally tell that the once mighty war council was all but extinguished, he stepped out. A wounded Bismuth turned to unload on him, but he was too slow. The Crusader fired twice clean through the man, hitting him once in the side and once in the leg. The general collapsed onto his knees. He propped himself up defiantly, back unbent, as the zealot walked into the shattered hallway that he was bleeding into. Dante kicked the fallen coil rifle away, leaving his new captive defenseless. “General Bismuth, so good to see you again,” he said, circling around his wounded foe.

  Bismuth spat a glob of blood and saliva onto Dante’s boots. The zealot looked down for a moment, and then wound his arm around and backhanded the man. The general swayed, but stayed up.

  Bismuth smiled. “You hit like a bitch, Dante. Did your god not bless you with strength?”

  “Loyal to the end, I see. You make a good lapdog, Bismuth. If only I could instill loyalty like that in my own people. What is it that’s kept you so faithful, even in times as hopeless as these? Where does that undying loyalty come from?”

  “It comes from having the good sense to know which side history is on,” said Bismuth as he continued to bleed onto the tile. “You may win the battle, Dante. Hell, you may win a hundred of them, but it means nothing in the grand scheme of things. What Dr. Nightrick has started here will live on forever, whereas you and your little band of thugs will be nothing more than a side note in the history of humanity.”

  “Ah, General,” sighed Dante. “That’s where you’re wrong. I haven’t won the battle, I’ve won the war, and the winner writes the history books.”

  The closer that James and his prisoner got to the fortified inner command center, the heavier the resistance they met. Twice now Dr. Ingell had been grazed by stray shots on their mad charge down the long and winding corridor, but she kept moving thanks to the ever looming threat of James. The entire plant was in bedlam. Amongst the chaos, company technicians scrambled to keep the flames away from the various chemical stockpiles in the complex, lest the entire facility become a giant smoking crater.

  As the duo finally reached the outer corridor of the command center, they found that a breaching party had already been inside. Smoke was billowing out of the portal leading into the once secured room, in front of which a small group had assembled. At the helm stood Dante, with Dr. Reya close behind, and before them, on his knees, was General Bismuth.

  “Saul, so good to see you made it in,” shouted Dante, noticing his approach. Before James could even respond, the zealot raised his weapon and fired down the hall at him. The first salvo struck Dr. Ingell square in the chest, causing her to double over with a pathetic moan. The last shot slid across James’s right bicep, causing him to drop his weapon. He ducked behind the wall of the intersection leading into the clearing, clutching his arm.

  “You didn’t think that I would find out about your little insurrection?” said Dante, loudly enough that James could still hear him. “There’ve been numerous reports of Crusaders firing on each other. I’m not stupid, Saul, or should I say James? I’m more than aware of where your loyalties lie, just ask the good general here. We were just discussing how to inspire loyalty before you arrived.”

  Bismuth grunted. “Dante, you have to realize that there’s no way in hell you’re leaving this facility alive. Even if you manage to clear us out, the entire army is on its way here to encircle the position. There’s no escape.”

  “General Bismuth, my dear friend, if I’m not escaping, than neither are you. Your little army will let me pass as long as I have Dr. Nightrick by the time they get here. You, however, will have begun decomposing by then.”

  Bismuth began laughing wildly. “Good luck with that. The doctor is a little more of a handful than you might know yet. I taught him myself during the Raynon Uprising. Trust me, you won’t be taking him quietly.”

  “I don’t care how I take him. He’s coming with us one way or another,” sneered Dante. “I’d have him already if your little emergency lockdown protocols hadn’t trapped him in his lab here.”

  “That lockdown protocol is the only thing keeping him from you, Dante, not vice versa. I hope you know how to operate those breach charges there, holy man, because your entire support crew looks pretty dead to me right now.”

  Dante flushed red for a moment before regaining his composure. “Sorry to break your heart, General, but another team is already on its way up. Unlike Special Branch, we have soldiers alive in the plant still.” The zealot spared one last glance down at his prisoner. “Well, Bismuth, as enrapturing of a conversationalist as you are, it’s really about time we get going. It’s been a pleasure as always.”

  James heard the shot and subsequent thud as he continued applying pressure to his wounded arm. Fire and debris blocked the side paths, so his only options were back the way he came or through the door leading to the Crusaders. In neither scenario was he out of range. He pulled a thin sheet of cloth out of his rucksack and began wrapping his wounded arm. As he sat there, he heard the sound of the large metal blast door
that led into Dr. Nightrick’s lab scrapping open.

  “General Bismuth, we’d like to make a deal,” he heard the female voice say. James peered out from behind the wall to find Dante’s body slumped over on the ground. A big, gaping hole in his head was leaking the contents of his skull out onto the floor. The young rebel shifted back into cover in disbelief as Dr. Reya holstered her freshly fired handgun.

  “I believe that can be arranged,” said Dr. Nightrick, walking through the singed blast door as the lockdown lifted. He approached the wounded Bismuth and began applying a sealant onto the parted flesh in order to stem the bleeding. “Sorry, General. I would have gotten here sooner if Turing hadn’t been so stubborn.”

  “No worries,” he replied, wincing lightly as a torn portion of his skin was temporarily sealed with the foam. “I had everything under control out here.”

  “I can see that,” replied Nightrick, turning his head towards Dr. Reya. “Forgive me, Doctor. You were saying?”

  She dipped her head in a small nod. “Dante embodied a radical violence that most of us who joined the Crusaders originally had no interest in. His own use of Induction was the final straw. When he took control of our group, he purged anyone who refused to play along with his progressively more insane goals. The only way most of us could keep our families safe was to bow our heads and follow. My faction has been waiting since his rise to power to overthrow him, but we needed the cover of an engagement like this to do it. If you agree not to press charges against the members of our faction, we will lay down our arms and return the Crusaders to peace. We’re all tired of fighting this pointless war.”

  “As long as you give me the entirety of your organization, I will grant amnesty to all of the members of your faction,” said Dr. Nightrick, continuing to work on his old friend. “The radicals that remain will be imprisoned or killed, depending on what actions they take as a result of this. Of the twelve high councilors of the Crusaders, how many are still alive?”

  “My people have assassinated at least five of them,” said Dr. Reya, consulting her datacuff. “Of the remaining seven, who knows? I have my people scouring for the rest of them already. The last thing any of us want is someone new trying to gather the remnant. My main concern would be the Templar Knight. He’s out there somewhere with his breakaway faction, but if anyone could rally the extremists, it’s him.”

  Nightrick nodded. “Even if one or two councilors manage to slither away, without the support structure of the rest of your group, they won’t stay hidden for long. As for the Templar, I’ll send Dire Squad after him immediately. Once he’s dead, nothing will remain of Dante’s legacy.”

  “As you say.”

  “General Bismuth requires medical attention, Dr. Reya,” said Nightrick. “Help him towards the medical bay and you two can finish calling the ceasefire from there. I have one final piece of business to attend to before joining you.”

  “I’m fine. I just need a bit of help walking. But, Doctor…,” Bismuth started, rising to his feet as the last bit of his parted flesh was sealed.

  “Don’t worry, General. I’ll join you shortly.”

  Bismuth sighed, letting Dr. Reya and her small band escort him away from the remains of the command center. As they left, Nightrick eyed the corridor that James had ducked into.

  “Do you feel it now, riding on the wind?” called the doctor. “Dawn approaches, and with it, a new day. Welcome to the end of the old world, James, and more importantly, the beginning of the new one.”

  As the young rebel sat there listening to Nightrick, his rage finally overtook him and he charged out from behind the wall, forgetting even to grab his rifle. He bolted at the doctor, but the man remained still. As James tried tackling him, Nightrick simply stepped aside and brought his knee up hard into the young man’s sternum, breaking another rib or two as he did. James stumbled, but managed to stay up despite the jolting pain. He wiped the blood away from the corner of his mouth and rushed again at the doctor, this time swinging hard with his left arm. Nightrick stepped back and parried with an open palm strike to the boy’s forearm that sent him spinning sideways.

  “James, there’s much that I can teach you still,” said Nightrick as his young opponent approached again for another swing. “Intellect is wasted on the weak, just as strength is wasted on the stupid.”

  As James swung, Nightrick deflected the blow outward and thrust his open palm hard into the young man’s solar plexus, causing the air to evacuate the rebel’s lungs as he tumbled backwards against the wall. The agony of the strike coupled with his already battered chest nearly caused him to black out. His vision blurred, but his adrenaline pulled his focus back from the edge of the abyss. He lay there in a heap for a minute trying to draw the air back into his body. As he did, Nightrick turned and walked back through the singed blast door into his open lab. When oxygen finally bathed James’s lungs again, he grabbed the weapon out of Dante’s dead embrace and ran into the room, rifle aimed high. Before him stood Dr. Nightrick, who barely looked up from the touch screen he was fidgeting with to acknowledge the intrusion. James fired twice, but the bullets couldn’t penetrate the thick glass of Nightrick’s office. The doctor looked up at the spider web cracks in the sheet which had kept his head intact. Out of the corner of his eye, James finally noticed Haley, strapped to an operating table, unconscious but breathing.

  “Nightrick!” screamed James. “What did you do to her?”

  “I’ve prepared her for you, James,” said the doctor. “She doesn’t love you anymore. You think this heroic rescue is going to change that? Look at yourself. Look at what you’ve become. You’re everything she detests. No, I’m afraid that romance died with your friend Megan.”

  “Enough! Let her go, you sick bastard. You’ve taken everything from me, but I won’t let you take her too.”

  “Take her?” replied the doctor, stepping out from his office. “My goal isn’t to take her from you, James. Quite the contrary in fact. My goal is to give her to you. Here.” He threw the touch screen to James. “She’s all yours if you but take her. You know that she’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done and that she’ll never forget the lives you’ve destroyed, but it doesn’t matter. None of that matters. I have given you the power to resurrect what has died. Love is a chemical reaction. All I’ve done is provide you with the catalyst. Press that button in the middle of the datapad and the machine here will take care of the rest. She’ll love you again, James.”

  “You’re out of your goddamn mind. I’ve given everything to destroy Induction. I’m not going to use it on the only person left on this planet I care about.”

  Nightrick shrugged. “That’s your choice. If you love her, you’ll let her go, but if you let her go, you’ll lose her. Now we’ll see who you truly love.”

  “It means nothing if it’s synthetic.”

  “Then why are you still holding the touch screen? It’s your decision now, James.” And with that, Dr. Nightrick turned and walked through the back door of his office, the heavy metal sealing behind him as he exited the lab.

  James had gone numb, barely noticing the doctor walk away. He glanced over at Haley, making sure that her chest was still rising and falling as it should. The faint cuts across her arms caught his eye, but otherwise she appeared healthy. Feeling weak in the knees, he made his way to her side, consulting the display on the back of his newly acquisitioned rifle.

  “Three shots,” he said under his breath. “That’s enough to end the war, for us at least.”

  He raised the weapon up to Haley’s head and rested his index finger gently against the trigger. After a long moment he exhaled, lowering the rifle. He tossed it aside, knowing that the new world had no need for it. Peace demanded only one more sacrifice, and blood had lost its value. The young man looked down at the touchscreen hanging out from under his white knuckles. Heart racing, he ran his hand along Haley’s face, gently pushing open her eyelids. His reflection caught in her stare, and he barely recognized the
person looking back. That worn, brutal face couldn’t be the same one he’d known a year ago, before leaving Dunton. He tried to see deeper, but the glaze slowly spreading across her emerald eyes blocked his view. As the last shimmer of light faded, James finally found the truth that he’d been searching for all along. Induction is love, and love always wins.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  David Brush is a chemist living in Michigan. He received his bachelor’s degree in biochemistry from the University of Detroit Mercy in 2014 and has published peer-reviewed research on proton exchange membranes in the American Chemical Society (ACS) journal Macromolecules. While he currently works in the chemical industry, he hasn’t ruled out returning to school to continue his study of biochemistry.