Arctic Series (Book 1): Arctic Cold Read online

  Unlike Oliver, who spent some of his night working, Henry has other plans. For him, he keeps a strict routine on the night before a mission. Henry, standing 6 feet 2 inches,' and weighing a solid 230lbs, can make any man run in fear. Upon his broad shoulders and bulging neck, sits a large head with the face of a baby.

  His hair is always kept high and tight, his face always clean shaven. His deep brown eyes almost match the complexion of his skin. A scar runs down from just behind his right ear to about an inch before his jaw comes to a small point. As much as he is a jock, he is also known for his love of video games and comics.

  A few blocks from his apartment, he sits at Flynn's, a bar and arcade. He likes it there, both because of the games and because of the free drinks he gets. He orders his first beer and walks to an old beaten up arcade. He presses the start button, and the screen lights up, flashing Donkey Kong across it. Out of all the games in the bar, this is his favorite, ever since he was a kid. As he jerks the joystick and starts slamming on the jump button, he remembers when he first found the console.

  About six months ago the team was on a mission to what was Alabama, now part of Sector 7. It was an easy mission, most of the trip was in the safe zone, to get wheels off of some old rail cars that were laying on their side near Huntsville. The wheels were needed to retrofit a few trucks to be hi-rail trucks. That way they could travel on both the highway and train rail systems. While searching inside a rail car, he found the arcade console.

  After pulling the console out of the car, he asked James if there was room for it. Even though there wasn't room and he ended up delaying the mission, he convinced the others to let him load it. Even with having to re-position some of their cargo on the back of one truck, they got the console loaded. When they got back, Henry gave the console away to the bar. The bar owner and Henry made an agreement that if he could bring in more arcades or any form of entertainment he found while out on missions and brought them back, he could drink and play for free.

  Walking out of Serra Tower, James is unsure of what to do with his night. After a few blocks of walking, he decides to do something special for Inara before his trip.

  Since he will be gone for a while, something for her to remember would be nice. He pulls the phone out of his pocket and sends her a message to come over to his apartment after work. As he puts his phone away, he smiles and says to himself, “Now, what to make for dinner.” Before getting home, he stops by a small market.

  Later on, at his apartment, James is just about done with cooking when he hears a knock at the door. He walks over to it and swings it open.

  Standing there is Inara. Her hair is no longer in the bun she usually keeps it in. Instead, it hangs freely down the sides of her face. Its gentle waves flow all the way down past her shoulders. James brushes the hair from the right side of her face, caresses her cheek in his hand and gives her a gentle kiss. He invites her in, and they head into the kitchen. James walks over to the stove as Inara goes over to a small round table.

  “After all this time knowing you, I didn't know you even knew how to cook. Figured you just would let me cook for you all the time or that you just ate those shitty rations,” she says as she sets down her purse and removes her white lab coat.

  James takes a skillet off a flaming burner and sets it on an oven mitt. “Well, I figured I would surprise you. Besides, those rations aren’t that bad.” He picks up a steak and sets it on a plate.

  After making the plates, he turns around with one in each hand to set them. “I hope you like veniso...” James suddenly stops talking as his gaze takes in Inara. She has on a long black dress. The top of it has no straps, exposing her shoulders and a fair amount of cleavage. It curves alongside her slim waist and flows down to her ankles. A long slit on the left side leaves a slight view of her thigh down to her ankle.

  “Wow. You look beautiful,” compliments James.

  Inara responds with a shy smile and gracefully says, “Thank you, good sir,” as she extends a small courtesy.

  James sets the plates of food down on the table and walks over by Inara. He pulls out her chair with one hand and gently places the other on the small of her back. As she takes a seat, James moves his hand from her back and onto the back of the chair. He slides the chair in a little bit and bends down to give her a small kiss on her neck. With a smile, she watches him walk back across the table and take his seat.

  Inara looks down at her plate to see a round steak, a few small yellow potatoes, and some asparagus. “This looks delicious,” she says as she starts to cut into the steak. James waits and watches as Inara takes her first bite. She finishes chewing and adds, “It tastes delicious too. How did you learn to cook so well?”

  James smiles as he cuts his steak into small cubes. “I learned from my uncle when I was younger. Then after I joined the army, I tried to cook whenever I had the chance. Those rations we ate all the time weren’t always the best. Our dining facility wasn’t very great either. So, after a long day of work, cooking always helped me relax a bit.” He takes a bite of food, chews, and swallows it.

  After they finish eating, they sit down on the couch, and James holds Inara in his arms as they watch a movie. As it gets towards the end, Inara sighs and says, “I miss being able to go to theaters.”

  “Yeah, it'd be sweet if they could just make movies again. Hopefully, soon we can start making things like that once more.”

  “Well, at least you guys get to see different movies. Always bringing in new ones you find on your missions.”

  “Yeah, perks of the job when most people are afraid to leave the city.” James slowly gets up from his chair. “There is one more thing I would like to show you before the night is through.”

  Inara looks up at him and asks, “You are just full of surprises tonight, aren't you?”

  James turns his back to her and starts to unbutton his shirt. Inara's face quickly turns from joy to one of worry. “James, you don't have to,” she says with a small tremor in her voice.

  “I think it is time you see. I am sorry it has taken me this long to be able to show you. I can't always have a shirt on or hide this from you anymore,” explains James as he lifts up his undershirt.

  “You really don’t have...” Inara stops. A look of horror invades her face as she stares at James. The fear leaves just as quickly as it came as her mouth opens in shock and awe.

  Scars aplenty weave through each other on the back of James. Thin scars, almost equal in length go in and out of each other, like a scribbled out human tic-tac-toe board. James slowly turns to his right to show his chest and be face to face with the woman he has loved since the moment he woke up over a year ago.

  Throughout his side and over his abdomen, lines of scar tissue continue to cross over each other. As Inara pans up to James' chest, that look of horror sneaks back into her face again as a tear slowly falls from the side of her right eye.

  Embedded into his left breast is a long pointed hand of pure darkness. “Arctics,” Inara quietly and fearfully says as she stands up, tears now running freely down her face. James gives a small nod of his head.

  Inara walks over to him and puts her hand on his face. “I’m so sorry,” she says. She gives him a slight smile and lands a soft, supple kiss on his lips. He wipes away a tear from her face.

  He takes her hand from his face and slides it over the blackened print. Somehow, it feels cool to the touch. Inara quickly removes her hand from his chest and pulls it towards her body, keeping her eyes on the black void in front of her. Just as she takes a step back, she removes her stare from his chest and up to his face.

  James slowly and shamefully puts his head down as he looks away from Inara. Taking a step forward, she quickly slides her hand under his chin and pulls his face back to hers. She gives him a small grin and whispers, “It is ok sweetheart. You are still the same to me, and no power in the ‘Verse can change that.”

  She slides her hand down from his chin and grabs hold of his hand. Their eyes stay
linked to each other as she backs up, pulling on his arm. She turns around and leads him to the bedroom.

  It's dark, yet warm. Why can't I move? Was I drugged? My head sure as hell hurts like I have been. Maybe I was hit. Yes, I was hit. I was running in the woods. From something. From What?... Skullniks! My eyes open in an instant.

  The darkness quickly turns to blinding light. I try to move, but can't. My hands and legs are bound to something behind my back. A man is standing in front of me. My eyes start to focus a little. There is a crowd, standing in silence as if waiting for something. The man, he is a large man, a fat man. He is facing away from me.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, it looks like we have someone heading back to the destroyers that call themselves the United States. I think instead of serving them, he can better serve us. In the pits!” Exclaims the fat man in a dark and raspy voice.

  The crowd roars.

  “Silence!” he yells back at the crowd, and they quickly quiet down. “He must be branded to show everyone that he is a traitor to mankind. So, bring forward, THE FROZEN!”

  Again, the crowd erupts into a loud bout of screams.

  The man turns to his right. Walking up, two men are bringing forward someone, no, something. Fuck! It's an arctic! I need to get free. I struggle and struggle but can't break the bindings that hold my hands and legs. Slowly, the Arctic is brought closer.

  The fat man pulls out a long hatchet hanging from the back of his belt. The two men holding the shackled arctic throw it to the ground. Large gloves cover their hands as they hold it down. The fat man walks over to it. With one swift swing, he chops off the arm of the Arctic near the elbow. Then he makes another blow to its head. As the arm separates from its body, the end of it freezes over. The fat man picks up the dislocated arm with a gloved hand. He turns and walks towards me.

  What the fuck is he going to do with that? How can I get out of here? He is now standing right in front of me. He starts to extend his arm holding the Arctic arm out. I try to see his face but can't. All I see is the human skull that hangs around his neck. It's empty eye sockets seem to peer right into me.

  Suddenly, a sharp cold hits my chest. I have never felt something so cold. So cold, it burns. It's burning right into my chest, into me. I try to hold in the pain but can't. As I stare into those empty eyes of that skull, I let out a scream. “AHHHH!”

  “AAAHHHHHH!” James shoots up in his bed. His heart pounding, his body cold with sweat.

  “James, are you ok?” Inara asks as she sits up and quickly throws her arms around James.

  He sits there silently for a couple of seconds, as he looks around to regain his bearings. Once he realizes where he is, he relaxes a bit and lets out a loud sigh of relief. She holds him and pulls him in tight into her embrace.

  “It's ok James. Nothing can hurt you here.” Inara softly says as she slowly starts to rock James in her arms. James looks up and peers into her eyes for a couple seconds until they shut and he drifts back to sleep.

  Three

  The next morning, when James wakes up, he takes a couple seconds to take in Inara soundly sleeping next to him. He gives a small smile, kisses her on the forehead, whispers, “I love you, and I will be back here with you on Tuesday,” and gets out of bed. He walks over to his closet and starts ruffling through a stack of uniforms.

  Behind him, Inara opens an eye, gives a smile, and closes it again. James takes a uniform into the bathroom and gets dressed. When he gets out, he walks over to the bed, bends down, and pulls out a box from underneath it. Inside the box is something wrapped in a cloth. He grabs it, pushes the box back under his bed, and stuffs the item into his rucksack, zips the pack up and leaves.

  Inara waits in the bed, eyes closed as if she is sleeping, until she hears the door close behind James. It is always like this before a mission. Neither of them wants to say goodbye to the other. Instead, they avoid it and hope they will see each other again.

  As James walks into the garage at Serra Tower, Oliver sits in a chair, waiting next to his bag. Oliver is always the first to show up to a mission. He is a short man, standing at 5'4'' and weighing in at maybe 140lbs soaking wet. His size means nothing to the team though. He is by far, the smartest and deadliest of the three. Most people don't understand why he goes outside the walls or across the river on missions since he is welcomed by other scientists in all parts of Serra. He would stay in a lab but, his loyalty to his friends and his need for vengeance of his family keeps him willing and wanting to fight outside the gates.

  His head is covered with short red hair that is about an inch or so in length from his chin to the top of his head. Even though he had surgery to fix his eyesight, he still wears glasses over his light brown eyes. In his lap, sits a small cardboard box.

  “Hey man, what's in the box? And don't you dare say it's a dick in a box.” James asks jokingly.

  Oliver smiles and says, “Come on, you know this box isn't big enough for that.” He looks down at the box, tilts his head and adds, “I would need one at least three times this size.” They both let out a good laugh. “I'll explain when Henry gets here,” Oliver says as he looks around. “Where is he anyways?”

  “Beats me,” answers James as he turns to look around the lot.

  Just then, a door flies open as a foot pushes through it. “WOOO!” Henry screams in a Rick Flair fashion as his foot hits the ground and the door slams into the wall. “Y’all ready for this? Cause I sure as hell am. Oh, I love going out on missions, seeing the country, killing some Arctics. Just gets the blood pumping,” Henry loudly says as he walks to join the other two.

  Henry slaps Oliver on the shoulder and adds, “Yup, sure got the blood pumping last night, if you know what I mean.”

  James pays no real attention to Henry's banter and moves over to a couple of vehicles in the garage.

  Joe stands in between the two vehicles the team will use. They are both large black trucks. Inside the bed of them sits an armored 250-gallon fuel tank. Above that is a bunch of locked compartments that house equipment. Each truck has four doors and large cab areas. The sunroof of the cabs has been taken out. In its place lies a turret. An M240B machine gun that shoots 7.62mm caliber ammo sits on the turret mount. A wide strap hangs in the cab as a seat for the turret gunner. Both vehicles have been fitted with a hi-rail system so they can use roads and railroad tracks.

  “Everything on the list you provided is in the compartments. Also, I threw in a couple of our new uniforms since you all should only have the one set. They will provide protection should you come into contact with any Arctics,” says Joe as he opens the door to one of the trucks.

  “These are part of our newer retrofit models and come equipped with heated windows and run flat tires. You should be able to drive up to fifty miles on a flat tire before needing to change it, as long as you keep it slow,” he adds.

  James and Henry start to open up the cabinets that cover the bed of the truck.

  Joe steps over to them and explains, “Cabinets one and two have rations, three is ammo, four is clothing, tents, and sleeping bags, five is a set of tools, six is medical supplies, and seven has your items to barter. There are a couple different types of explosives, detonators, and a few other items in there just in case you need them as well.”

  They move a few things around and check to see everything is there. James opens his rucksack and throws the cloth wrapped piece under the driver's seat in the first truck. He looks in the back seat and sees two M4 rifles on the seat next to two pistols sitting in holsters. He closes the door and opens the back door. He grabs the two holstered pistols and inspects them. He sets one down and keeps the left-handed one for himself as he straps it to his left thigh.

  “Looks good Joe. You are one resourceful ass dude, cause I know some of this shit isn't in your inventory. I owe you one,” says James as he walks over to Joe. He extends his hand in front of him.

  Joe grabs James' hand and gives it a good shake as he says, “Yeah, good whiskey is hard to fi
nd. So make sure you bring me back a nice souvenir.”

  James smirks, “As they say, a shot of whiskey a day keeps the Arctics at bay. But I got you on the souvenir, always do.”

  Oliver chimes in to explain, “You do know that alcohol would actually help your body temp lower, instead of keeping you warm.”

  On the other side of the truck Henry quickly blurts out, “Hey, Dexter's laboratory, no one gives a shit.”

  Not paying attention to Henry, Oliver moves to the back of the second truck, lowers the tailgate, and sets down the box he is holding. While opening the box, he explains, “This is a new prototype a few of us have been working on. It is a 9mm round with a liquid core. The liquid is a type of antifreeze. I am hoping that we can inflict some damage to the Arctics with these in case we don't get a direct heart or brain hit. Instead of the wound freezing shut, it should, in theory, keep bleeding. I brought thirty rounds for a field test.”

  James picks up one of the rounds and tosses it to Henry. “Maybe you should take these cause I never miss.”

  Henry lets out a fake laugh, “I shoot well enough.”

  He hands the round back to Oliver, who puts it back in the box and closes it up. The team loads into the two vehicles. James and Oliver in the first truck, Henry in the second. They drive out of the garage and head to the west gate to leave Serra City.

  Driving up to a manned gate, James rolls down his window. He pulls out an ID card from his wallet. Outside the car, an armed man in a Serra uniform walks up to the truck. “What is your purpose for leaving?” asks the man.

  “Going on a mission by order of Dr. Stone,” replies James as he hands the man his ID. He scans the ID on his handheld card reader. It lets off a beep as the screen lights up.

  He gives James back the ID card and says, “Looks good. Be safe out there.”

  James nods his head and says, “No promises on that one.”