CH 3

  A beast the size of a small building is smashing through structures, consuming everything in its path—metal, glass, and human beings alike. Steel bending and concrete wrenching are the loudest sounds, next to the screaming of civilians and cries and orders from the Hunters. I nearly don’t recognize downtown Veridian. I swoop in to get a closer look.

  Getting closer, I got a pretty horrific view. The monster was a Frankenstein of Abnormals. Where its wings met its body, there was a zigzag of scars. Its teeth looked like razor swords rammed into its jaw. This beast was not natural; someone built it.

  I jump off my Razor and pull my S.O.L.A.R.I.S. off my back. The black metal hums to life, its edge glowing with an angry red color that casts faint shadows on surrounding debris. I land next to a team of Hunters in various Guild uniforms. It looked like a small army.

  Several Hunters turned to stare when I landed, their expressions ranging from confusion to outright hostility. A ripple of murmurs went through the assembled Hunters. 'A Freelancer?' I heard one of them mutter. 'What's he doing here?”

  The Hunters' whispers faded into the background as I shifted into a combat stance, the S.O.L.A.R.I.S. feeling heavy but reassuring in my grip. I look up again at the beast. The sight of it made my stomach churn. This wasn't some naturally occurring monster; this was a deliberate creation, a weapon. I let my anger build as I charge.

  I speed past the other Hunters retreating or wounded, and in moments I up to my enemy. I notice its eye seemed to lock onto me instantly as soon as I’m within 20 paces. I duck under the monster to avoid its eyes. I lift my R.A.D.I.A.L. to deal what would have been a fatal blow to the its lower ribs, but the beast jumps upward and backward. Eyeing me again, it leaps and throws a punch. I jump on my Razor and lift into the air. I stare for a moment, confused. Abnormals don’t box; but this one threw hands like the best of them.

  After dodging a few more attempts to knock me out the sky, I get an idea. I sacrifice my Razor, jumping of and letting my foe knock it out of the air. I’m going to regret that later, I think. On my descent, I jam my S.O.L.A.R.I.S. into the side of the beast’s neck. Using gravity and my own power, I leave a big gash in its flesh.

  Now on the ground, I step back, dumbfounded; the monster wasn’t bleeding. It roared as thrashed, but there wasn’t a drop of blood. I don’t get to ponder it long. The Abnormal throws another haymaker at me, and, as I lost my Razor, I had to rely on my legs. I ran to my left, using my right hand to slash again with my sword. Again no blood. Instead I saw a shiny plate of metal, and a complex series of wiring.

  I stagger. This was not a monster; this was a weapon. The said weapon took advantage of my hesitation, and raised its fist. Instead of pummeling me into the concrete, it opens its hand, revealing a tube. There was a voomp, and the next thing I know a missile is launched my way. My eyes widened. I barely have time to get my S.O.L.A.R.I.S. in front of me before the impact.

  I’m blown clear into a billboard for mattresses. My first thought is that it is ironic that the board was not at all soft. My head is swimming and I can’t focus. A man in the red and white GG Guild uniform on his own Razor flys over.

  “Don’t know why you came out here, freelancer,” he said. “This is for professionals and outside your pay grade.”

  “And you guys are doing a great job,” I reply, looking down. The man follows my gaze to where the “professionals” were fleeing, leaving behind their weapons and the wounded. He scowls and leaves me to in on the retreat. I don’t move. I can’t. For a few moments I slip in and out of consciousness before my head nods. I get one more look at the fake Abnormal before the world fades to black.

  CH 4

  I’ve only ever been in the hospital on one other occasion. That was the day I fought my first Abnormal.

  It wasn’t all that big or strong. It wasn’t even an Angry-Dog Class (yes, the Hierarchy goes that low) and seasoned Hunters wouldn’t bother themselves with it. I was only fifteen and had no weapon other than a broken blade I found in a junkyard. With no experience, no training, I was determined to kill a beast that night.

  That evening had been going well at first. I had just passed my Hunter’s Exam with flying colors earlier that day, so my father was in a good mood. Even Brent was happy with me. Then, at dinner, my dad asked a question.

  “So, Samson,” Dad began, a hint of expectation in his voice. “When are you putting in your application to Duke & Co.? You know we’ve got a spot waiting for you.”

  “Actually,” I said, picking at my food, “I was thinking of starting with a smaller guild. Working my way up.”

  Brent’s fork clattered against his plate. “Why would you do that?”

  “I want to earn my spot,” I said, meeting his gaze.

  A stunned silence fell over the table. Bella raised a brow. Dad’s eyes widened. “You passed the Exam,” he said, his voice rising. “You have earned it.”

  Confusion furrowed my brow. Why was he so insistent on me joining his Guild? I glanced around at my family. Bella was the only

  “B-but,” I stammered, “there are so many Guilds. Why should I work for yours?”

  Brent stiffened. “That’s the point, Sam. There are many Guilds.”

  “So?”

  “We’re in competition with them.”

  “And?”

  Dad blinked, a flicker of something like hurt in his eyes. “You’d betray the family business to work for some lower-class Guild?”

  My own eyes widened. How was choosing a different Guild a betrayal? Weren’t they all dedicated to protecting Neo-Veridian? I shook my head, saying nothing, and continued eating.

  “You start Monday.”

  My head snapped up. “What?”

  “You start Monday,” Dad repeated, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

  “But I didn’t say I was going to—”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “You aced that Exam, Sam,” he said, his voice hard. “You will not be taking that skill anywhere else.”

  My face burned. I gripped my silverware, my knuckles whitening. I opened my mouth to speak, but anger choked the words in my throat.

  I pushed back from the table, the scrape of my chair against the floor the only sound in the tense silence. If I can’t take my “skill” where I want, I thought, then I’ll take it nowhere! I stormed out of the house, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. My anger burned, a white-hot rage that propelled me through the darkened streets. It was that anger that led me to that back alley, to that poorly fed Abnormal. I was stronger, faster, but blinded by fury. Some fighters thrived on rage, but for me, it was a humiliating defeat waiting to happen.

  Hence, my first hospital visit.

  “Never thought we’d see you on here again, Samson,” a voice next to me says.

  I open my eyes. When I turn, I see Bella sitting at the window, the midday sun streaming through the window behind her. I lie back flat. “Me neither.”

  “You were stupid to go out and fight that thing.”

  “Uh-huh. So I guess the geniuses took care of it after I suffered a concussion?”

  Bella cringed. “Don’t be sarcastic, Sam. You nearly died.”

  “Hyperbole.”

  “Whatever you say, Samson.”

  I sit up again. “So, what did happen to the thing?” I ask.

  “It ran away after the Hunters did,” Bella answers. Her eyebrows knit together, and she cringes. “Just looked at the retreat and retreated itself.”

  I frown. “And then?”

  “No one knows.”

  “Damn,” I whisper. Then I ask, “Hey, Bell, do they know what that thing is?”

  “You mean a very strange acting Dragon-Class?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  Bella’s eyebrows knit again. “What are you talking about?”

  “It was a machine, Bell. That was no Abnormal.”

  “That concussion is starting to mess with your memory it seems.”

  My eyes begin to narrow. It seems being knocked out gives you a short fuse. “I’m serious, Bell! That was a weapon built to destroy!”

  Bella’s eyes widened just as mine narrowed. Realization flashed for a moment on her face, though immediately replaced by pure concern. “If that’s true, Samson,” she says. “I think you should keep that to yourself for now.”

  “Why?”

  She pauses for a moment, searching for the right words. “Well, if someone is creating beasts capable of mass destruction, they could create a beast capable of killing you. One almost did so already. I would rather you not let it out that you know about their little project.”

  I shake my head, dumbfounded. I’m not sure it’s because of my concussion, but something didn’t feel right. “But, shouldn’t we try to stop this guy?”

  “Yes, but we shouldn’t let them we’re on to them.”

  I nod. I see, I thought. We’ll play detective. “Alright, then.” Then, remembering, I ask, “Hey, where’s my S.O.L.A.R.I.S.?”

  Bell tilts her head, confused. “Your what?”

  “Solid-state Optical Linear Assault and Retaliation Impact System. Built it myself. Now, where is it?”

  “You mean that giant sword?”

  “Yeah. If you know where it is, I’m going to ask you to bring it to me.”

  Bell becomes instantly interested in her sneakers. “It’s broken, Sam. Its blade cracked in two. ”

  “No, it’s not. I was holding it when I was knocked out. How.” Not a question.

  “You were only holding the twisted handle. They had to pry it from your hands. You know used it to block a huge impact, Sam. I’m sorry, but it’s gone.”

  My shoulders slumped, and I was hit by a wave of disappointment. My regret over losing my Razor was only because of its price tag; my S.O.L.A.R.I.S. was practically my Hunting partner.

  I’m not allowed to brood too long as a nurse walks in with my lunch tray in hand and politely asks Bella to leave me to rest. The hospital-grade food does little to mend my mood. I’d rather feign sleep instead. Once the nurse was satisfied with my fake snores and left, I slowly opened my eyes. My mind raced. A machine, dressed up to be an Abnormal, my broken blade, and Bella’s warnings. None of those were good signs. It just felt off somehow. A glance through the window in the door tells me that the nurse is off to help another poor soul. I stand.

  Looking around the room, I find the remote and turn the T.V. on. Nothing. I pick up my phone and open social media. All quiet, no videos, comments, nothing. I draw a long breath. Why was no one reporting this? Or am I, and now Bella, the only one who knew…?

  Finally discharged from the hospital, and I’ve already made up my mind what I was going to do. I again walk into the now completely empty Freelance Office and walk up and lean on the desk.

  “Got out alright, Sam?” Jim ask without looking up from his phone. “Would’ve thought they put you out your misery from how long you were in there.”

  “Funny,” I reply. “I’d’ve thought you would pick up a job that actually required you to do something in the time it took me to get out of there.”

  Jim looks me up and down. “I see you’re feelin’ alright, so you’ll understand my confusion that you don’t have an Abnormal carcass with you.”

  I nod. “I came in here for some other help, Jimmy. I assume you heard of a beast that was able to give me brain damage?”

  “I’m surprised you're still alive.”

  “I’ve got that a lot since I got out.” I scan the room to make sure it was really empty. I lowered my voice. “But did you know that ‘beast’ was a machine?”

  “That’s the concussion talking.”

  “I’m serious. That thing didn’t bleed, and under its flesh, I saw metal.”

  Now, Jim's face becomes a mask of seriousness and concern. “Swear?”

  “Would I joke about this, Jim?”

  “No, you wouldn’t.” Jim looks around the room with unseeing eyes, his gears turning. “That explains why it retreated from a battle it won. No beast would act like that.”

  “Exactly.”

  Jim shakes his head. “But why would someone do this?”

  I rise to my full height. My teeth grind. “To be honest, I don’t give a damn why someone would. I want to know who?”

  Jim, catching on, smiles. His eyes twinkle with amusement. “So, you needed someone without brain trauma to help you get to the bottom of this?”

  I smile back. “I needed someone with connections. I already have the brains.”

  I get a raised eyebrow. “Who?” Jim ask. Comprehension dawns on him before I can answer. “Wait, don’t tell me you got…”

  “A prize for you,” I laugh. “I got Bella Duke already on the case.”

  Jim shakes his head, smile fading. “This is going to be a disaster…”