MONSTER GENOCIDE: This is Only a Trap (part 4)

Fallser Fiction by A. Bradley Green  In a time far from now, humanity has lost dominance of earth and is no longer on top of the food chain. Yet capitalism hasn’t faltered. Heroes for hire come at a price when your surviving in the Nil Zones. Follow Team Cross as they uncover the mysteries beyond the ruins of this dystopian earth in Monster Genocide, a five-part serialized story for EastFallsLocal.com. READ PART THREE HERE. 

Night
Nil Zone 12
Sector 7
Ancient Factory City Earth

“Let’s just try and make a run for it,” said Trish desperately pacing the floor. The barrier cube only had seven minutes left. The field was already fluctuating. No sign of Team Cross. The demon dogs were standing now, staring with those bright yellow eyes as if they knew it was almost dinner time.

“How much ammo do we have between us,”Trish asked. Scott pulled his weapon and checked the digital display on the side.

“I only have 8 bolts left on this. And the blaster that was in the bag, had 3 bolts?”

“One bolt for each of us,” said Norm somberly.

“We can’t die like this! Chewed apart by demon dogs cause some asshole wants to play games with our lives,” yelled Scott as he tore off his coat and threw it to the ground.
“Five minutes left,” said Trish as she picked up the blaster from the bag. Trish stood beside Scotts, pointing the blaster at the doorway. “We might have a chance if there’s not many of them,” said Trish trying to be optimistic, with three minutes on the barrier cube. She knew in moments, they would be viciously murdered. Sharp teeth ripping away at their flesh.

But then, music broke the mood. A trumpet to be exact. Even the demon dogs had to pause for the Reveille. The ancient military wake up call, clear as day. It was getting louder, along with the sound of a vehicle. It had to be Team Cross.

Rubin cut the speakers as he hit the brakes, skidding the Merc sideways in the loose gravel outside of the Factory City complex.

Rubin exited quickly from the Merc, strapping on his pack & power glove. A high voltage arc of electricity snapped over the fully charged gauntlet as it emitted a low frequency hum.

Natty had one pistol drawn while Dean was flexing the hand joints of his new weapon arm.

“Zamm. What’s on the scanners.”

Zamms voice spoke from the Merc. “Looks like 8 in total, six outside who are heading this way quickly and two inside. Three human biosignals, still alive it seems.”

“Good. Natty, you go inside and secure the clients, Dean and I’ll smoke these guys.”
Natty crouched slightly, then leaped over 20 feet up and out of sight, just as the Demon dogs cut a corner and ran at Rubin and Dean, full tilt. Dean lifted his cybo arm dramatically and pointed what should have been a Gatling gun arm at the advancing demon dogs. Instead he was pointing at them.

“What!” Dean, shocked.

“Pointing at them won’t do it,” said Rubin flippantly. “What the hell! I know it works! It was just working, like ten minutes ago! Come on!!”

Dean smacked his arm in frustration and it transformed, hand folding into the fingers becoming the rotating barrels of a gatling gun just as Rubin fired off three static bolts from the palm of his gauntlet, decimating the first three of the six demon dogs. Dean stomped his foot forward and let off an amusing display of raw fire power, tearing the last three demon dogs apart.

“Best get a handle on that tech. I almost had to save your ass, again.” Rubin smirked.

Dean flexed his weapon arm back into a working hand. “Ha! You wish! I had that handled. Those first three never woulda got ten feet.” Rubin twisted his lip as Zamm added, “Hope your having fun. Your impressive noise makers just attracted about 7 more demon dogs from around the area. Stay on your toes.”

Dean converted his hand back into a gatling gun and ran with Rubin towards the complex. A mortar sounded off somewhere in the distance and a flare suddenly exploded overhead loudly, turning the dark sky into daylight as it burned. A bright beacon telling every demon dog in the immediate area, there was live food to be had. Dean made a point.

“Uh, Rubin? This is not good.”

“I know.”

“I mean like really not good.”

“I know! Zamm! What’re the scanners showing?”

“Nearly every demon dog in the area, almost on top of you.” Rubin pulled his goggles down over his eyes looking for heat signatures and saw movement all around them. They were backed into a corner.

“Hope you got enough ammo in that cybo arm of yours, Dean.”

The barrier cube was down to 40 seconds. Trish’s blaster hand was shaking badly, her face, wet with tears. They knew this was it. Team Cross would be too late to save them. The barrier finally failed and the demon dogs stepped forward apprehensive at first, then with a growl they leaped in and were suddenly cut down in mid-air by what seemed like gun fire. But not like a gun they had ever heard before. The carcasses fell to the floor with a sickening thud as Natty appeared at the doorway.

“I’m Natty, and I’ll be your new barrier cube. Stay put. You’re not safe yet.”

She rolled her eyes as she turned away to face out into the darkness. “Something’s coming.”

Natty heard the explosion in the sky and watched as the flare lit up the environment, attracting more demon dogs. Zamm piped in on comms.

“Natty. You’re about to be attacked. Hard. East and west of your position. It was a mostly positive experience knowing you. I’ll keep your memory in my archives.”

“Wow, Zamm, writing me off already, huh!”

But even she had to wonder about her odds as she watched set after set of burning yellow eyes peering at her from the shadows. Trish and Scott looked at each other, then at the dead demon dogs that looked like lunch meat piled in front of the door way. Trish looked for Norm. He was facing away fiddling with his avatar. “Norm? What are you doing?”

Norm glared over his shoulder at her, speaking in a deeper than usual tone. “Bedlam is within. Bedlam is what’s coming for us all.”

Al has been a lover of all things sci-fi/fantasy and classic radio serials, like The Shadow and Flash Gordon. He is a video media producer in the tri-state area by trade, and is currently pursuing his passion as a fiction writer. He lives in East Falls, near the Laurel Hill Cemetery.

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