The ground started to shudder, leaves jumped, and loose branches fell. A tremor was traveling toward them, weight skimming across the ground. There was a twenty foot tall rider carving in on a board, with a massive war hammer slung over his shoulder.
A long, matte black shaft dominated the weapon, interrupted only by traction grooves placed where a hand would naturally slide. The head was brutal in its proportions. Its forward curving hooked blade was built to tear and drag. Opposite it, a squared hammer-face sat thick and solid, made for devastating blows. He was an earthquake that struck and vanished like lightning.
His pinpoint tag snapped sharply in the wind. The family name line read Quinlivan Pressure; the continent line marked him as Northborn; beneath it, genus was H. Sapien, and species was listed as Brobdingnagian. He was the fastest of the Quinlivans, perhaps the fastest in the world, though the world remembered him by a different name: Pressure Quinlivan, the King of Crash.
His eyes were deep brown, and he had pale freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. Pressure was heavily sun kissed. His hair was thick, uneven locs, heavy with beads, silver cuffs, rings, and scattered charms. His hands were covered in thick gray rings, and a pair of goggles rested on his forehead, pushing into his locs. He had on a loose, short-sleeved, button-up shirt; it was white and partially exposed his chest. He paired it with baggy cargo pants, and sturdy sneakers.
A blindfolded woman sat atop the war hammer surveying the fight as if it were a throne. Without turning her head, she spoke.
"Throw me," Vanpree said.
Pressure put both hands on the war hammer and swung it lazily, like he was casting a fishing rod and kept carving.
Vanpree was launched into the sky like a rocket in a sweeping arc. Her body cut through the air, suspended above the circle tactical force made around the pinnacle crew.
Bishop looked up and saw a small moving figure. "What the hell is that?" He hit his walkie-talkie and spoke to Mark and Karter. "Are you guys seeing what I'm seeing?"
"Yeah," Karter said. "Mark, six o'clock, high."
Mark turned and locked eyes on vanpree. "I see it, what is it?"
"I don't know yet," Karter said, "It's coming in fast."
"Looks like it's headed my way," Bishop said, "I'll keep an eye on it."
Vanpree ripped off her blindfold, the wind howling as she stuffed the bow into her coat pocket. Both of Vanpree's eyes contained two distinct irises, set side by side with a pupil in each iris. Her eyes were unusual to the point of discomfort, all four irises were yellow. Their glow mirrored, and was amplified by her unnaturally long upper, and lower lashes. They were yellow, and luminous, burning even brighter against her dark skin.
Directly under her eyes were two closed slits that could be opened to reveal two more eyes. They were smaller, and each had a single iris and pupil, built for precision. "Star burn," Vanpree said.
Her eyes ignited, the white in her eyes faded to black and all the yellow irises turned red. The bigger pair of eyes filled with heat just as the second, smaller set of eyes opened beneath them, darkening and igniting in the same way. Now she had four burning-red eyes, upper watching, and lower aiming.
just above her forehead, short and slender horns broke through. They were barely four inches long, and pushed up from her skull before curving slightly back. A moment later, two more horns forced their way through behind the smaller pair. They sat at the top of her head, thicker and taller, extending a full twelve inches.
She drew in one long breath, and was ready to rip the world in half. "Grand prix." A laser shot from all four eyes, four burning lines that met a few inches in front of her and fused into one brutal beam.
Karter's eyes went wide, "BISHOP… SHE'S ABOUT TO ATTACK."
"We're fine over here," Bishop said calmly. "I'm watching, she's not doing anyth—"
Vanpree's beam punched into Bishop's chest, slammed into an operator's shield and kept driving. A single force that erased the Containment-Squad.
Shields screamed as they dug into the dirt, boots skidding, but the beam bullied straight through, peeling them off formation like a freight train hitting a tight crowd. The ground split wherever it passed, the forest floor tearing open, flinging burning clumps of dirt and leaves.
Bodies launched, some went airborne and vanished into the forest, slamming into trees hard enough to make branches snap. Others were struck as branches came down, the beam carving through the rows of trees, sending them tipping, and collapsing. Operators hit the ground, and shields went tumbling.
She didn't ease up until she was almost on Thiago. Then the beam tightened, cutting around him. The force of the laser was so violent vanpree used it like a brake, riding the recoil as it bled her speed away.
She went from a blur in the air, to walking steady on her boots, all without letting the beam die. Every step dragged destruction with it, tactical force was getting torn apart as she walked. The formation wasn't a formation anymore, it was debris.
Karter put both hands on his head,"…Oh my god."
They tried to pull themselves back together, Mark and another tactical unit Commander were barking orders. Some shields were being dragged into place, bodies scrambling to rebuild a perimeter, but the damage was too deep. Her sweep across broke their formation, and put them out of sync completely.
"WE LOST CONTAINMENT." Mark screamed into the walkie-talkie.
Some operators were still getting up while others were just going down, the split trees were collapsing on them, and the ground was carved into blasted trenches where the beam had walked. Apache saw the reset attempt and answered from the sky. A rocket dropped into view, aimed straight at Vanpree.
She turned her head toward the oncoming rocket. "Star Burn."
Four eyes ignited, heat packing tighter and tighter, and she fired a quick beam. A burst of heat snapped up and caught the rocket midair. It burst out in the sky with a violent flash, followed by a rolling scatter of fire.
Both side hatches opened on the airship, widened to give Apache overlapping fields of fire. Smoke curled from the rocket launcher as he lowered it and turned. On one of the lower levels of the airship, Karter was staring out into the open.
Mark hit his walkie-talkie, "KARTER, SNAP OUT OF IT AND DO SOMETHING."
Karter heard his voice and began to focus, he pointed at two squad leads. "Get out there." They nodded and walked over to an open bay, containment-squad operators following behind. Karter hit his walkie-talkie, "Sorry about that, I have more operators dropping in now."
Mark jumped and rolled out of the way of a falling tree, it crashed behind him as he picked up an operator, threw him over his shoulder and sprinted. He slowed down a little, pulled out a grenade, and tossed it; two trees falling above him blasted apart. He turned, setting the operator down in front of him, and let the debris hit his back, then he hit his walkie-talkie, "THIS ISN'T THE BEST TIME TO FREEZE UP."
The Containment squad dropped from the open bay in rapid succession, shields and batons ready, hitting the ground hard and moving immediately to contain the chaos. Apache didn't watch them land, he was already lining up the next problem.
Pressure was riding up along the side of the airship, smashing through brush, and snapping downed woody debris as if it wasn't there. The deck of his board stretched long and broad beneath him, black and brutally plain, wide enough that his stance never looks cramped. Despite its size, it reacted fast, popping and rotating under his feet when he told it to.
The gripped surface looks chewed in, like it's been ridden hard. Underneath, the board rides high on four thick, knobby tires, each one wide and aggressive. It was built to stay upright no matter how hard it was pushed. When he rolls in, the ground feels it, a steady rumble that announces him before he arrives.
He carried the war hammer high over his shoulder, and is calm in a way that makes his speed unsettling. Apache fired, and two rockets shot down where he was going to be. Pressure grinned, he took his right foot off the board and it looked like he was about to push forward. Just before impact, he flash stepped. Pressure and his board surged forward as one, acceleration spiking so hard the eye lost the transition. One instant he was there, the next he was past the rocket, speed collapsing the distance without leaving anything to follow.
The rockets detonated behind him, launching debris and fire into the air where he'd been a heartbeat earlier. Apache fired again, a rocket shot down, the same way as the first set, right in the path Pressure was about to carve into. He flash stepped straight past it, speed snapped him forward so hard the rockets found only his afterimage, and ripped the ground open in frustration.
Then he saw the second rocket, right in front of his face, shot back to back to trap him. Pressure's grin only grew. He flash stepped to the side, a violent lateral burst that pulled him out of the predicted lane by an inch, leaving nothing for the rockets to claim but a violent scar in the dirt.
Forward, another flash step, closing distance before Apache could fire again. Then up, he flash stepped vertically, pure speed redirected into the air. To anyone watching, it looked like he teleported four times. Apache looked straight out and Pressure was already there in front of the airship, full swing loaded. The trap had been perfect, until Pressure treated it like a map. A flash Step was always about arriving faster than anyone could react.
His board was clenched in his right hand as the ground fell away beneath him. In his left hand he held the war hammer. Pressure's torso was twisted to the right side, and the war hammer came across his chest, over his right shoulder for an efficient swing.
Pressure put force into the swing, letting the war hammer cross back over his chest. It went from bottom to top, smashed into the airship's belly, and tore straight through. The underside was decimated, and the rupture shot along the ship's body. The internal supports gave up and burst. He followed all the way through, then let the war hammer thud onto his left shoulder as he dropped.
"What the hell," Karter said, "BRACE YOURSELVES."
Apache and tactical force were ejected out of the airship with the wreckage, tumbling through smoke, and dust. Rows of windows blew out, and the stacked decks crumbled, collapsing into each other.
A section of the garage bay ripped open and Department of Public Order vehicles spilled out. The wreck from the vehicles, and airship hit the tall trees with sickening force. Branches snapped, trunks exploded, bodies and metal slammed through the emergent layer of the forest.
Treetops were bursting apart, and ramming into the canopy layer below.
"KARTER, HELLO, KARTER." Mark screamed into his walkie-talkie. "KARTER… BISHOP, KARTER."
Trees were coming down at all angles, crashing into each other and dragging more with them. The canopy layer fell into the understory layer, in a vertical avalanche that chased the wreckage all the way down. When it finally hit the ground, it shook the area like an earthquake.
Mark changed the channel on his walkie-talkie. "Apache, sir…" He waited for a response. "Penning… hello… is anyone there."
"I'm a little busy right now." Penning's attention snapped off Solace, the forest was collapsing in layers, and did not care who wore a uniform. "Just help as many operators as you can."
"Yes sir," Mark said, and got moving immediately.
Penning looked up, tracked the drop, and moved. His left arm shot out and wrapped around a massive tree that was about to hit a group of containment operators trying to help another operator stuck under debris. At the same time his right hand changed shape and reached out. His fingers stretched long, widening like straps, then curling tight.
Each finger found two body's, wrapped once and locked in. Apache was caught first, secured hard around the torso, then eight containment operators. He yanked them down and sideways in a single pull, dragging the whole bundle out of the fall path just as wreckage began hammering into the trees above. It was ugly, but it was enough.
Arlenna was finally able to get to Thiago. She sheathed her swords, hooked under his arm, pulled him upright, and moved him before any debris could find them. Solace was leaping from tree to tree as the air filled with falling wreckage.
She jumped off the tree into the air, and used the falling trunks like stepping stones. She kicked off bark, then started shifting between dropping bodies, metal fragments, and slipping through openings that existed for a second then vanished. When she saw Arlenna and Thiago, she started to descend, making her way toward the forest floor where the kids could be gathered and shielded.
After landing Solace set Wine and Dine down, she put one hand on Wine's shoulder, the other on Dine's back, and nudged them toward Arlenna. When Arlenna saw their traumatized faces she pulled them in tight, closing her arms around them.
Thiago's breathing was labored, but he moved regardless. He reached into a pouch, and came out with a triangular shield, flat across the top with a pointed bottom. He let it grow in his hand until it was normal sized, then slammed it into the ground at an angle, hard enough to bury the point deep.
The shield expanded rapidly until it was big enough for all of them to get under. Falling wreckage hit the shield with brutal force and burst. The bigger pieces bounced and veered off to the side, while the rest caught the angle and slid all the way down.
Solace saw movement out of the corner of her eye and glanced over, there was a woman running fast, trying to cover her eyes with a blindfold, while also dodging falling debris. Solace waved a hand. "Hey, over here."
Vanpree heard a voice but didn't know where it was coming from. She looked around for a second or two before she saw solace. Vanpree made a hard turn, slid under a hung-up tree, and popped up under the shield just as she finished tying the bow. She looked at the shield over her head wondering how she didn't see it before, then a tingling sensation washed over her when she realized she was right next to solace.
As Pressure dropped he threw his board down, blasted through several trees, then carved along a leaning tree with his war hammer still resting over his shoulder. He used a few fallen trunks like a ramp, then popped off the last one into a three-sixty spin holding the nose of his board, before he tossed it on the ground and rolled out.
Arlenna peeked out from the side of the shield and caught Pressure tearing across the clearing toward Penning. He popped quick ollies over fallen trunks, his board snapped up and landed hard, never losing speed. Then he brought both hands to the war hammer ready to swing.
Penning was still helping his men, he hauled wreckage aside to reach anyone pinned beneath it, pulling the bodies free and shoving them clear. He felt the ground rumbling, immediately turned his head, and saw Pressure closing fast on his board. Penning pivoted to face him and threw a punch on instinct, right arm snapping out to keep space between them.
Pressure swung too, the war hammer carving a violent path through the air, before it could meet Penning's fist he flash stepped. Off to the side, stepping into the space Penning had exposed the moment his arm shot out. The blow landed against his ribs with a sickening crack, the shockwave ripped Penning off his feet and popped the air itself.
Apache sprinted through the debris, scooped up his weapon, and swung it toward Pressure's back. He squeezed the trigger, steel flashed once, and the left arm holding the bazooka was severed. Both weapon and arm dropped, clattering onto the ground as Apache staggered back, suddenly empty handed.
He looked up, Arlenna was sliding backward, calm as she drew distance, her blade gliding back into its scabbard. His arm lay gone at the shoulder. Her eyes flicked to the cut, the flesh was knitting fast, pulling itself together. Apache reached into his coat with his right hand and threw two grenades. Arlenna jumped back hard the instant they left his hand, the world punched white, the blast's coughing dust across the ground.
She lunged in and took his other arm off before he could reset. She followed it instantly, spinning and cracking him across the head with the pommel of her sword. Apache hit the ground. Arlenna stood there for a second, watching both residual limbs twitch with new growth, confusion tightening her expression.
She snapped out of it and sprinted back toward the group where they were already waving her in. When Arlenna got back to them she found Solace turning in place, eyes wide scanning the wreckage, processing how the world had shredded itself that fast. The destruction was everywhere, and the forest was burning all around them. They needed to go so she turned and started running, the rest of the group followed closely behind.
"This way." Vanpree said, voice certain. "This is the best way to get out of here."
Solace stopped, "Follow her."
The group turned and followed Vanpree. Behind them, Penning was laid out groaning where he'd slammed into a tree. He stayed there for a second, then pushed himself up, his head was ringing, and he blinked until the shapes made sense. For a moment his eyes followed the fleeing figures, weighing the chase. Then he saw what was left behind.
He turned away from them and locked onto his own. He started calling out to people, moving wreckage, and grabbing whoever he could. He hit his walkie-talkie and called for the Rescue and Mitigation Division. "I need immediate medical support, and a Disaster Fighter Unit, fire squad"
As he worked the negative thoughts kept pressing in. This wasn't just a failed grab, this was a disaster, and The Department Of Public Order doesn't forgive disasters. The higher ups are going to tear me apart for letting it get this far. I know I'm getting blamed for an airship coming down, and losing bodies in the chaos.
He could already feel the weight of it waiting for him. But his men were right there, bleeding, pinned, calling out, so he chose them. The Department Of Public Order will probably reassign the hunt. Once the paperwork hit my bosses desk, it would come down to how my report read.
They'd either keep it local, clamp it down with restrictions, and hand it to a detective who held authority in the FLEX they ran to, or let the chase go to the ones cleared to cross FLEX zones more freely. Or they'd give her a marked poster and let one of those bastards deal with it. Who knows, maybe if they surfaced again the trail could swing back his way. I had it under control, then those two showed up and the whole sky came apart.
The towering stature, blink fast movement, and that devastating power, I only know of one northern bloodline with people like that. Quinlivan. His family is a dynasty, what is my luck it's never a good idea to end up on the wrong side of a dynasty. If the Quinlivans believed their son was in danger, they'd fight The Department Of Public Order, back Pressure, and tear through anyone in their path until the debt felt paid. Dynasties like that didn't bargain, and starting a war with one was always a mistake. Maybe I don't want it to loop around after all.
"Sir," Mark said. You could hear someone scream for help over the walkie-talkie.
Penning swallowed the thought and hit his walkie-talkie as he moved. "I'm coming. I called for medical support and disaster fighters, they're on their way."
Mark sighed, "Thank you."
Right now Penning was just focused on getting his people out alive, whatever the Department Of Public Order throws at him later, he'd adapt too.