SEVEN
Gabe Treeth
The second experiment began with a bang, as the orange eyed man revealed an automatic weapon from his jacket, which he aimed at the glass ceiling.
He immediately shot through the seats and up past the crowd directly at the glass. it broke instantly and sharp jagged shards of glass began to rain down on the motionless people.
An elderly man’s face was cut from a falling shard, which shattered as it hit the floor. He did not flinch, could not move and yet it was clear he would feel the pain very soon.
The gunman continued to fire, as more glass fell down injuring person after person.
The Deck were powerless to respond, the orange eyed man was so encased in bodies and seats that getting a clear shot meant risking the lives of innocent people and yet if they did nothing those people would be severely injured as well.
Chris Jacobs, a rookie member of The Deck, stood over Gabe’s body trying to help control the bleeding and remove the bullet in his shoulder. As the gunfire raged on Gabe looked at Chris and said “You have to stop this.”
“I know Gabe, the pain will be gone soon, just stay calm,” replied Chris.
“No, you have to stop him. He will hit the chopper!”
Chris knew Gabe was right. A few well-placed shots on the fuel tank and the helicopter would come crashing down, through the ceiling. It would explode in a ball of fire killing a large amount of the audience.
Chris rose to his feet and pointed his gun at the orange eyed man.
The man dashed under the seats, knowing that the more he moved the harder a target he would be.
Chris watched the movement carefully, spotting a pattern and knowing there was only one shot he could make that would ensure success.
Taking a deep breath he fired off a single shot.
The bullet raced through the air hitting the man in the forehead and killing him instantly.
A gasp echoed across the team. They knew this was necessary but seeing a man killed so bluntly was not something they were used to, nor would they ever want to.
Chris breathed a sigh of relief.
Five of the team rushed up, with Chris alongside them to apprehend the man.
“Bravo! You passed the second experiment,” Tobias’ voice echoed around the room. “You were prepared to risk the lives of innocent people for the greater good. The true test of a real soldier.”
He reached his arms together to clap but was unable to do so, with his arms now handcuffed behind his back.
The orange eyed man was pulled out from under the seats and away from the blue light. The bullet was still pressed into his skull. A medic took his pulse and confirmed that he was no more.
“Ok, let’s get rid of the body and …” Chris was stopped in mid-sentence as he saw something he couldn’t believe.
A blink.
It happened so fast but Chris was sure of it. The dead man had blinked.
He looked at the medic and knew from the look on his face that he had seen it too.
As he turned back to the body he noticed something even stranger.
The dead man’s neck had begun to twitch and his whole body soon started to spasm.
“Cyanide?” asked Chris, looking at the medic.
“No, this isn’t normal … this isn’t like anything I’ve seen before,” stammered the medic.
As the spasms continued the dead man began to lift his back from the floor. Slowly at first, like a coil beginning to unravel, his body rose up and up, until he was resting on his knees.
“No! Just … no!” The medic stared at Tobias, startled and unsure just what horror this mad man had unleashed.
With a final push the dead man rose to his knees and stood tall.
His eyes opened again revealing his orange eyes, pulsing much brighter than before. The bullet hole remained in his head and yet this was no zombie. He was as alive as any other man in that room.
He looked upwards at the helicopter and aimed his gun at it.
The team members who had gathered around him took point blank range shots directly at him. Every shot hit the target but he didn’t go down.
In death he had become more than a man.
This time he didn’t miss. His bullet hit directly on target.
“Our fuel tank has been hit. Repeat our fuel tank has been hit. Over,” the helicopter pilot, Saloma, radioed Gabe and he then knew the mission had failed.
“We can’t kill him!” shouted Chris.
“No but you can stop him!” replied Gabe. “Pin the target down at all costs.”
The remaining team jumped on the orange eyed man and pinned him to the floor. His gun was quickly taken from him and broken so he could no longer use it.
It wasn’t enough.
“The damage is too great. We have to land. Over,” and with that the chopper moved away from the building, taking the blue light with it.
What happened next was a blur of screams. The elderly man whose face had been cut by falling glass felt the pain of his attack and let out a deep scream, holding the cut in pain.
The medic dashed for him but was quickly trampled by the now unfrozen audience members in their dash to escape from the room.
The security guards returned to life and immediately began to fire at the men pinning the orange eyed man down. They had no choice but to retreat.
Gabe stood next to Tobias determined not to let him go but was hit over the head by Jonathan with a chair. The force broke a tooth and knocked him to the floor.
“Tobias are you ok? What happened?” asked Jonathan.
“Terrorists. It was The Deck,” replied Tobias, knowing this was the type of good PR that money simply could not buy.
Chris looked back at the carnage and at Gabe. Gabe lay on the floor, his mouth bleeding. Chris knew there was nothing he could do, that to ensure victory he would have to escape for now.
Our leader captured, innocent people injured and an unstoppable force being revived by security, he thought to himself. This is bad.
With that thought he exited the building and huddled into one of several jeeps with his comrades. They held their head in shame knowing that the worst had occurred. They had handed the biggest mass murderer in history a golden ticket.