The Harvester Page 10

  “Something’s wrong here,” I state to Dorian.

  “Never underestimate Vega and his mad scientists. It could be some sort of new creation that can mutate or even—”

  Dorian’s thought process is interrupted when another Section 520 creature, half Dead One, half bat, an enormous bloodsucker with razor sharp claws and fangs attacks the Blackhawk.

  “Shit! Told you there’s something wrong. Blow it out of the air.”

  Dorian unleashes a flurry of bullets, but the Section 520 Bat is too swift and avoids every one of them. It latches its claws onto the underbelly of the Blackhawk, and the helicopter begins to lose pressure and power. One of its wings comes crashing through my window and comes within inches of slicing my neck open. I draw my gun and shoot several holes through the wing, and it releases its grip from the Blackhawk and soars downward.

  “I don’t know if I can regain control of her!” I can hear the concern in Dorian’s voice, and I don’t like it. The Blackhawk begins to dive. “I’m landing on the roof! Hold on!”

  I do exactly that and tightly hold on. “Landing? Don’t you mean crashing?” I shout.

  He grips the controls with all his strength. I see people in neighboring buildings smashed up against the windows watching the excitement. Dorian tries the best he can to land as safely as possible on the skyscraper’s roof, but this doesn’t look pretty, and we end up crashing sideways on it. The propeller blades rip into the roof.

  Dorian smirks at me. “Well, any landing you can walk away from is a good landing, right?”

  I can’t help but to release a slight laugh. But we still need to find Naes. We climb out of the wreckage, and I instantly pull out my cell phone and call Mr. Herald. He answers.

  “Mr. Herald, we lost Naes. The Blackhawk is non-operational.” I listen for a few seconds. I hear some sort of flapping noises. “I’m on it, Mr. Herald.”

  I hang up, and Dorian and I look all around for the flapping noises because we know what’s coming for us.

  “It’s that damn bat,” Dorian exclaims.

  “Shit.”

  I draw my sword. The wind blasts from its wings pick up in our area, and I know it’s from the giant Section 520 Bat. I hate bats! Dorian draws two Japanese short swords and lays them beside himself. I’ve always loved his style. And the fact we have something in common other than being Harvesters, we both served in World War II. Although, his service was more impressive due to him being human then, and I was one of the Dead Ones with no fear of dying. We need to not kill this creature, yet capture it and interrogate it to find Naes’s location and if need be extract the info we need from its mind.

  “You know the drill, Dorian.”

  He nods at me with the eager anticipation of combat.

  The Bat’s wings flapping louder and louder grows to the point of being almost deafening. Our heads are on swivels, but we don’t see the winged, fanged bastard. The longer it takes to handle this messed-up, bizarre situation the less chance we have of finding Naes alive and that damned 520 Scorpion abomination.

  “Go for its wings,” I tell Dorian, but he can’t hear me. The Bat’s wings flapping drowns out my voice. Any second now, we will be face-to-face with one of the most hideous, powerful creations I’ve ever battled. I must admit, I’m stressing out a bit. I must stay focused and channel my master Miyamoto Musashi and not allow my emotions to take control of my actions. Dorian can’t take the waiting any longer, and his patience has obviously worn thin because he moves to the edge of the roof and peers over. The Section 520 Bat soars up right at him, and he’s blasted back and through the air. I feel the blast of wind, and I’m thirty feet away. As the Section 520 Bat circles us, I draw my AR-15 and fire at it, purposely aiming for its wings only. I know bullets to its wings won’t kill it, but I’m hoping if I destroy its wings it will be forced to land. Dorian stands and joins me on bringing this true-to-life bird of prey down.

  Numerous bullets rip through its wings, and it quickly descends toward the nearby apartment complex’s roof. Dorian and I rocket to the edge of the roof and leap off. We easily clear the gap between the buildings and keep in stride toward the Section 520 Bat about to crash land. We holster our guns and once again draw our swords. The beast smashes through the roof and vanishes. We can only hear sounds of breaking wood and drywall. Dorian and I rush to the large hole in the roof and peer down. The Section 520 Bat lies on the floor below unconscious with debris and rubble on it.

  “Think it’s playing possum, Harvey?”

  “One way to find out.”

  I jump down into the hole and land beside the Bat. Dorian stays put and covers me like a good soldier. A tenant steps out of her apartment and sees everything. She stares at the Section 520 Bat, gasps, and falls unconscious. Her young son comes out to her aid and realizes why she passed out. His eyes widen with excitement.

  “Cool!”

  The Section 520 Bat hisses as it awakens. The kid freaks out and screams in horror. I point at the kid. “Get back inside, now.” I grab his mother’s feet and drag her back into their apartment. “Whatever you hear, kid, do not come out here if you want to live.”

  I slam their door shut and pull out six daggers. I jab three in both of its wings and pin it to the floor. I don’t know what the proper protocol is on a new creation like this, so I figure what I just did might be sufficient enough. We’ll see. Dorian observes everything with a very acute eye. I’m startled when the Section 520 Bat snatches my ankle and trips me to the floor. Dorian is quick to respond by jumping down with his sword pointed at the Section 520 Bat’s arm grabbing me. He slices his sword through its arm and pins it to the floor. It lets out a shriek of pain so loud that it breaks the nearby windows.

  “Thanks, Dorian,” I say as I stand. I’m not used to depending on anyone and actually have to say “Thank you.”

  However, this a new Section 520 Bat we’re having to deal with that Vega is surely proud of, I’m sure. I wonder how many he’s going to toss at us.

  “Just kill me,” the Section 520 Bat says in a shrill tone that is almost unbearable to listen to.

  Dorian smirks at it. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  I step forward and place my right boot on its throat with my spur within an inch of its neck. “I’m going to ask you one time and one time only. Where’s my partner? And I know that you know that if I have to place the Halo of Truth on your head, your mind will forever be lost. Your choice.”

  The 520 Bat looks up at me with its black eyes. “Your partner is someone else’s partner.”

  This statement shocks me, but I also know Underworlders lie, deceive, cheat, and trick you. This could be a ploy, implemented by Vega himself to pit us against an innocent Harvester to cause inner turmoil and chaos within the Agency. And I wouldn’t put it pass Vega to do so. However, I must keep an open mind. If Vega was able to flip one of the six Heads to go to the Underworld’s side, then a Harvester wouldn’t be a problem. My thought process is cut off by the disgusting stench of the Section 520 Bat. It’s a complete assault on the senses. You’d think if Vega’s mad scientists could create something like this crossbred Bat, they should’ve been able to do it without the stench. I’m just saying.

  All of sudden, from above, the eight-foot-long stinger from the Section 520 Scorpion drops beside us. We look up and see Naes standing on the roof staring down on us. He has cuts and gashes all over his body. It must’ve been one hell of a fight. He hyperventilates and profusely sweats.

  Dorian grins at the 520 Bat. “It appears we don’t need you any longer.”

  Dorian extracts his sword from the 520 Bat and swings it at its neck.

  “No!” I shout at Naes, but it’s too late. He slices its head off and gives the 520 Bat a one-way punched ticket to the After.

  Dorian gives me a confused expression. “What?”

  I peer up at Naes. “It’s just . . . well . . . we could’ve used it for info.”

  Naes passes out and trips through the hole and lands
hard on the floor.

  Dorian shrugs his shoulders. “Huh. That was unexpected.”

  “We need to get out of here. Help me with Naes.”

  My mind runs rampant with thoughts of Naes possibly being a traitor and not being one. So many reasons why if he was one or not for why he killed the Section 520 Scorpion and his return. Is it an act on the Shakespearian level or the Real McCoy? I’m bound determined to find out before it’s too late. I’ve been a Harvester too long to be tried as a fool.

  I need a drink and an unbiased opinion, so I find myself back at my favorite watering hole with Charon and can’t help but think about Sammy and how he gave his life for me. We slam back some shots of whisky. Two people shoot pool. Another plays a pinball machine that I’m rather surprised still functions. Sammy’s brother, Micah, wipes down the bar top just like his dead brother did, without care. I mean, the rag he uses is old, dirty, and smells like a used, wet mop. I still feel bad about Sammy, so I keep my mouth shut. However, Charon is a whole different story.

  “Micah, really, man. You need to get yourself a new rag. That one smells like piss,” Charon tells him in a sarcastic tone and then laughs.

  “Yeah, well, has anyone ever told you that you Dead Ones smell like burning flesh?”

  Charon and I laugh. “That’s just our cologne. You don’t like it, sexy?” Charon retorts.

  Now all of us laugh. It’s rare that I laugh, but when I do, I enjoy it. I snatch the whisky bottle beside me and pour us another shot. Charon looks at me in a way I have seen plenty of times in the past.

  “Listen, I appreciate the whole boys’ night out thing, but what’s really on your mind? Is your new partner a traitor, right?”

  “There’s no fooling you, Charon.”

  “There’s one question you must ask yourself. What does your gut tell you?”

  That is a good question. Simplistic as it may be, however, it makes sense. I’ve been so clouded with my thought process as of late. Is Naes a traitor? Which Head is the traitor? How do we find Vega’s multi-purpose Master Hole? Who are Vega’s new mad scientists creating these new Section 520 creatures? Where’s the Underworld’s headquarters? But the question at hand: What does my gut feeling tell me? I think to myself about Naes’s grandiose return on the roof and it seems a bit planned, scripted.

  But Vega knows me all too well, and he knows I would think that. I find myself perplexed. Now a gut feeling in which I have always wholeheartedly trusted, I am now in a fight with.

  Charon waits for an answer, and the way I answer him is by downing another shot. Charon backhands my shoulder. “What about me?”

  I pour him a shot and he quickly slams it back.

  He looks at me with raised eyebrows. “Well?”

  I run my hand through my hair and release a sigh of an emotion I’m not used to feeling: confusion.

  “Harvey the Harvester! The look on your face is priceless. I’ve asked you a question that you can’t answer. I’ve known you for over seven hundred years, and I’ve never seen that look on your face. Today truly is a rare day.”

  “Shut up and have another shot.”

  The bar’s entrance door opens and in walks the Messenger. Charon and I instinctively grab our sword hilts. He walks our way and stops a safe distance away from us. He’s not stupid and knows we’re fast.

  “I’m only here to deliver a message, Harvesters.”

  I stand and draw my sword, which glistens under the track lighting. “You sure? Because I think you may still be a bit upset at me for killing your Petra in my apartment. What say you?”

  “I say, yes, yes, I’m filled with vengeance for Petra. But for now, I only deliver a message.”

  “Of course you are. You’ve been Vega’s lackey for centuries,” Charon chimes in.

  The Messenger chuckles a bit. “Actually, no, Charon. It’s a message from him.”

  He gestures to the outside and in steps me, an exact version of me, a 2.0 version if you will. I look out the corner of my eye at Charon. “That is not me.”

  “No shit,” he sarcastically states.

  The few patrons do a double-take at us and are completely confused and terrified. They freeze in their spots.

  “Do you really think Vega’s going to get away with this, Messenger?” I ask him.

  Harvey 2.0 steps ahead of the Messenger and points to the TV behind the bar playing news footage. “He already has, Harvester.”

  We watch footage of me, rather, Harvey 2.0, killing civilians with the exact same sword as mine. The police rush Harvey 2.0. and he takes ’em out and vanishes down an alley. My cell rings, and I already know who it is. I answer it, yet Charon and I stay on full guard.

  “Yeah, Mr. Herald?” I listen to him rant and rave. “You know that wasn’t me. I was busy trying to rescue Naes. Not to mention, I would never do that!” I angrily hang up. It rings again, and I rapidly answer it. “Listen, Gerald, I—” My eyes squint with hostility and hatred. Charon keeps tabs on the Underworlders. I hang up.

  “I know who that was, Harv.”

  “Yeah. Vega’s rubbing it in my face about his new creation, me.”

  I whisper in Charon’s ear. “He claims this guy is just as good as me at everything.”

  “Yes, I am,” Harvey 2.0 says with confidence.

  Charon pats my shoulders. “Well, he definitely has your keen sense of hearing. Care to test his combat skills?”

  “I think you know the answer to that question, Charon.”

  Charon grins. “Rock and roll.”

  I wave at Harvey 2.0 to battle me. He raises his, I mean, my sword and stealthily moves my direction.

  “He even moves like you.”

  “Shut up, Charon.”

  “Shutting up.”

  Any moment now, Rod Serling’s going to step into the scene and introduce everyone to a new episode of Zone. The two playing pool, the pinball player, Micah, even the Messenger sit back and watch what they probably think is some sort of Hollywood film shoot.

  I stop and wait for him to make the first move, and he does the same. I should’ve known. It’s like looking into a mirror of the most bizarre. I must admit, I’ve seen and done a plethora of things in both my lives, but this is awfully strange. And I don’t like it one bit. I’m going to try to play to his emotions because I know Vega has never found out I trained under the samurai Master Miyamoto Musashi, the undisputed number one master in sword fighting.

  “If you truly think you are as good as me, then make the first move and see if you can best me, Harvey 2.0”

  I don’t know if it’ll work, but it’s worth a shot. Especially, since this version of me doesn’t know Miyamoto’s techniques like I do. Suddenly, he charges me with sword raised high. My idea worked. Now I’ll have to use another technique Miyamoto taught me: use everything in your fighting environment to your advantage. I know this dive bar’s layout so well, I don’t even have to look. I snatch the fiery Tobasco hot sauce from off the bar top beside me and hurl it at his sword. Harvey 2.0 slices at it like I predicted he would, and it smashes into pieces. The sauce splashes into his eyes. He’s temporarily blinded and moans in pain as he rubs his now burning eyes. I quickly slice my sword through his hand still holding his sword. It drops to the crusty, stained linoleum floor. I kick the sword away from him, and it slides to the pinball player’s feet, who wants nothing to do with it. Everyone now realizes this is the real deal and are frozen with fear. I turn around and see Harvey 2.0 standing on top of the bar.

  He waves his regenerated hand at me with a smirk.

  “Shit. Not this again.”

  “That’s right, Harvester. I’m a better version of you.”

  He jumps high into the air, clutches onto the ceiling, scurries across it like a spider, and perfectly drops down right in front of the terrified pinball player. He casually picks up his sword, spins around, and waves me on. I’m starting to piss myself off. I mean, well, you know.

  “Your turn, Harvester,” he calls me out now. />
  I challenged him to make a move the first time, and he failed, but no harm was brought upon him. Now he’s challenging me. So I decide to pull a trick out of the hat: space-shifting. I’ve done this plenty of times before, but he will know this power too. It’s the illusion of me moving in slow motion when in actuality, I’m moving incredibly quick. But first, I try to distract him with conversation and movement. I pace back and forth.

  “You may think you’re better than me, but at least, I’m not a freak creation and a slave to your creator. You don’t even know why you’re doing what you’re doing! You’re a—”

  This is the right time. I space-shift. It works because he haphazardly swings his sword over and over at me due to my words working on his emotions. I flip in the air and over him. I swipe my sword at his neck, but he ducks. Now I know he has realized what I had done and compensated for his mistake. I never thought in a million years that one of my greatest battles would be against myself. I must end this to send a message to Vega. The message: I’m so good at what I do, I can even defeat myself. What a concept.

  I spot another mistake of his. He ducked too far down to avoid my deathblow, so I bring my knee below his chin and with all my strength bring it up and connect with a teeth breaking connection. He falls backward while spitting out blood and teeth. The Messenger motions to help, but Charon does the same. and he backs down and remains neutral.

  I press a button on my belt buckle, and a Black Door shoots up out of the ground in front of us. I bolt at him and tackle Harvey 2.0 into the darkness of the Black Door. We float further and further into the darkness as I have a tight hold of him. We pummel each other as I reach for my belt buckle. I press a different button and the Black Door reappears within the Agency’s Travel Center. We continue to fight, and I toss Harvey 2.0 out of the Black Door and into the Travel Center where several Harvesters have been awaiting our arrival. He realizes his situation and stops combating me. However, the Harvesters stare at us because they don’t know who’s the real me. And I don’t blame ’em.