Reaching into his belt, Ethan produced a small tablet computer. The screen came to life with a layout of the sewage system. A red path appeared in the next instant, indicating the most likely path the gang would have taken. Along with it appeared several orange and a few yellow paths indicating alternate routes.
“Which one are you planning to follow?”
Staring at the screen, Ethan waited before replying as he continued pressing forward. “If Pierce’s gang is operating from underground, I doubt they’re living in the sewers. The city’s sewage system is old—and that means it’s contaminated with disease. Pierce could use it as an escape route but his base of operations would have to be somewhere less dirty.” Ethan paused. “The sewers are linked up to a part of the subway, but that’d be too conspicuous. One of your paths shows where the sewers link up to a series of ancient crypts. That’s where he’ll likely be.”
“Makes sense.”
Ethan latched the device back onto his belt. “Patch me into Mason.”
“Done.”
Ethan’s voice changed. Any friendliness in it was replaced by the cold voice of The Guardian. “Mason, are you seeing my location?”
“I see you. One of my men has pulled up the files on the previous victims found in the sewers.”
“Tell me.”
“Bryan Hodge. 52. Lawyer and advocate for the humane treatment of the mentally ill.”
Arriving at a fork in the tunnel, Ethan followed the path on the left without missing a step.
“Warren Mayberry. 43. Priest.”
The tunnel barely held any illumination. Ethan drew out a flashlight and kept it aimed in front of him as he continued trudging through the murky abyss.
“Cody Hamburg. 39. Police officer.”
“Got it. I may have a lead on the gang’s location. Keep tracking my signal.”
“Do you need backup?”
“Never.”
***
The water was getting a bit deeper, nearly to the top of Ethan’s boots. And with it, his cloak grew soaked and heavier. In a fluid move and without missing a step, Ethan unlatched his cloak and let it fall into the gloomy waters below. He took his hood off as well, carelessly tossing it aside.
He wasn’t far from the crypts now. Ethan already had an idea of which way Pierce would have taken the doctor. A gang his size, nearly twenty men or so, would have a limited amount of options for a hideout. Once he found the gang, Ethan’s problem would be getting the doctor out quickly to avoid getting him injured.
The lights here were worse than before, most of them no longer working. Thankfully, his eyes easily adjusted to the dark. Ethan felt something brush by his boot. It was slick and long. But he didn’t slow down. Continuing through the ever-darkening abyss, Ethan touched his ear. “Did you hear what Mason said about the victims?”
William’s voice quickly answered him. “Yes. It’s the exact same information we had.”
“I was just keeping tabs on the wrong person. Should have known that Pierce would go after the doctor and not the prison ward next.”
“What do you mean?”
Ethan stepped into a smaller sewage tunnel that broke away from the main one. This one’s lights were mainly working. “Pierce is killing off anybody who tried to help his men while they were in prison. The lawyer advocated for prisoners like Pierce’s gang to be treated as mentally ill and not criminals. The police officer used to transport his men to and from the ward where Dr. Paul tried treating them. And the priest visited them often, trying to get through to them and help Paul in his work.”
“You know this how exactly?”
“It’s my business to know. Psychotics like Pierce feed on a sense of empowerment. He lives off of his men’s mindless loyalty to him. It gives him what every person truly wants: a sense of purpose.” The water was deeper than ever before. But he trudged forward. “Without his gang, he’s nothing but a shell of a human. All those victims tried to rehabilitate his men in one way or another. They threatened Pierce’s world order. And because of that, they became his enemies.”
There was a long pause on William’s end. “Does the fact that you know exactly what a psycho like Pierce thinks ever worry you?”
Ethan ignored the sarcasm. “I need you to meet me, Will.”
“What do you need?”
“If Pierce is—wait.” Ethan came to a halt, looking down at the deep water surrounding him. “There’s something—”
Out of seemingly nowhere, the water erupted. Three figures violently bursted out from under it as their roars echoed through the tunnels. Only a mere few feet away from The Guardian, the dirty water splashed onto him as the walls quaked with their primal roars.
But The Guardian didn’t move an inch, not even flinching.
At first The Guardian mistook them for men—but they were monsters. Inhumanely built, their upper body muscles were disproportionately large compared to their towering bodies. Their faces were mad, eyes wide and wild. They loomed several inches over The Guardian, muscles tense and limbs nearly quivering with unrelenting rage. Their open mouths seemed to be foaming as they stared down at their masked foe. They all wore nothing but torn pants, leaving their powerful torsos to be fully seen. Even their teeth were sharpened.
There was a long moment of stillness before William’s voice cut into The Guardian’s ear. “What were you saying about Pierce again?”
“He fed his men growth hormones and toxins. Inhumane ones.” The Guardian’s voice was unchanged, masking any shock. He took a small step back. Then another. “Looks like he made these three overdose.”
The three mutants charged at The Guardian simultaneously, roaring like rabid dogs.
The Guardian didn’t make a move, didn’t even flinch until they were right on top of him. “Made them mad—”
The Guardian ducked down to dodge a swipe, feeling it graze inches above from his skull.
“—as psychotic as him—”
The Guardian sidestepped another blow. And then leapt over a third.
“—but as strong as ten men.”
The Guardian landed back into the murky waters with a splash as another mutant arrived upon him. But The Guardian didn’t dodge this one. Stepping up, The Guardian powerfully grabbed the fist midflight, stopping it right in front of his face.
“Luckily, so am I.”
Grabbing the mutant’s arm with both hands, The Guardian mightily picked him out of the water and hurled him head-first into the wall. The mutant’s skull smashed into the bricks, loudly and violently breaking into them.
Stooping low to avoid another blow, The Guardian stepped up into his next opponent. The mutant sent down a haymaker, but The Guardian easily swatted it away. The Guardian followed through by delivering a succession of quick blows to the mutant’s stomach. Each one forced the mutant to let out a bellow of pain. As his foe took a step back, The Guardian didn’t relent, viciously slamming his forehead square into his foe’s face.
The third mutant came from The Guardian’s side. Sidestepping a backhanded swipe before avoiding a second blow, The Guardian robustly kicked him in the chest to send his foe into the waters before turning back to the bloodied mutant. Face full of blood, the mutant leapt at The Guardian, its shadow falling over him. The Guardian didn’t hesitate. With a flash of inhuman speed, The Guardian drew out a long dagger and slashed open the mutant’s throat. The neck was stiff, but the blade cut through it just the same before the falling corpse missed The Guardian and splashed back into the murky water.
The mutant The Guardian had kicked away roared as it came back at him. The Guardian barely dodged the first blow, but the second struck him square in the face, nearly sending him sprawling. But The Guardian kept his balance. The strike was powerful enough to put down any man, and more than enough to leave The Guardian’s head spinning. Drawing a small pellet from his belt, The Guardian backed up to dodge another wild swing from his opponent.
The Guardian kept backing up, avoi
ding one swipe and blow after another. With every one, his foe become increasingly enraged, its piercing roars ringing in The Guardian’s ears. The Guardian efficiently attached a pellet from his belt to the hilt of a throwing knife. Stepping up, he ducked to avoid a strike before knocking his foe back. The Guardian immediately backed up, increasing the space between him and his opponent before launching his knife. It struck the mutant right in its thick abdomen a few feet away. The Guardian immediately turned away and shielded his face.
BOOM!!
In the next instant, an explosion engulfed the mutant. The deafening blast lit up the dirty walls and shook the very tunnel. But when the flames dispersed, the mutant was sinking into the waters below.
Feeling something from behind him, The Guardian turned as the first mutant leapt at him. His eyes were madder than ever before and blood seeped out of his head wound. The Guardian tried jumping back, but he was too slow. The mutant’s long claw cut across The Guardian’s chest as he aggressively bit into The Guardian’s shoulder with his sharpened teeth.
“Gah!” Momentarily consumed by the burning sensation, The Guardian immediately slammed his fist into the mutant’s skull, forcing his foe to back away.
“You’re hurt!” William’s words rang in The Guardian’s ears.
The Guardian ignored the anguish and dodged another blow before slamming his boot right into the mutant’s chest. His voice didn’t show any pain, only focus. “Not as bad as he’ll be.”
The mutant came at The Guardian again. The Guardian ducked down before rising back up and viciously slamming his open palm square into the mutant’s throat. The Guardian’s foe let out a gurgle as it staggered backwards. The Guardian didn’t relent. He simultaneously slammed either hand into both sides of the mutant’s face. Then his neck. Grabbing the mutant by his head, The Guardian brought his face down and into his knee.
A crack sounded off at the collision. Keeping his foe’s face down, The Guardian drew out his bloodied dagger and immediately ripped it through his foe’s skull. He kept it lodged in there for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he wretched the blade out and let the corpse join those on the sewer’s bottom.
“How bad are you hurt?”
The Guardian did not even look down at his wounds. Instead, he stepped over the corpses, sheathed his daggers, and continued on his way. “Claw was nothing new. But his bite ran deep. I’ll live.”
“At least we know you’re headed in the right direction.”
The Guardian readjusted his wounded shoulder, feeling the blood oozing out of it. “There’s a point of entry before a large underground chamber.”
“I see it.”
“Meet me there. And bring your gun.”
“Twenty minutes tops. What’s the plan?”
“To bring down the house.”
***
Standing by his parked vehicle, Mason held an umbrella to shield himself from the fast falling pellets of rain. Each one broke against the shield with a loud thud as he held the umbrella steady. Countless officers stood around him, but there was not much to be done. Not with the order from The Guardian to not enter the sewers. Then again, none of the men were truly clamoring for a chance to go down there.
The fact that Mason was again taking orders and collaborating with the vigilante who’d killed police officers, soldiers, and politicians ranging from beat cops to generals and senators felt… strange. In fact, The Guardian had slain some of Mason’s own superiors known to be corrupt. The entire police force knew that Mason, along with most other good cops in the city, worked with this vigilante. But nobody tried anything. They knew better.
Mason didn’t know if it was wrong or not. He knew that he was assisting a vigilante in committing murder. But on the other hand, all those The Guardian had slain up until now were known—
“Mason, do you read me?”
Hearing the familiar and unsettling voice he was still growing accustomed to, Mason quickly replied. “I hear ya.”
“I’m sending you a location. It’s a sewage outlet. Meet me there close to Crown City’s dam. Forty minutes. I’ll have the doctor.”
“How are you going to send me the loc—”
“I’ve patched into your GPS system. Sending the coordinates now.”
Mason stopped himself from responding to that breach. Instead, he slowly nodded. “I’ll be there. Have you found Pierce yet?”
“I’ll be face-to-face with him soon.”
“Good luck.”
***
His boots remained drenched, but the sewers were behind Ethan now. These ancient, brick-walled crypts were nearly barren and dry, save for some water drips here and there. Cobwebs surrounded Ethan on every side. The floor was littered with decaying bugs and rodents, while some living ones scurried across the ground.
There was complete silence, an eerie silence, save for the echo of his steps. There were no lamps in this area, leaving him to be encompassed in a blackness that was only broken by his flashlight. He kept it aimed at the shadows in front of him. But his heart remained steady. His senses knew that there was no evil concealed in the darkness—not yet anyways.
Pierce’s gang could not be far now. All these tunnels led to several larger chambers. One of those would be housing the gang. Ethan knew that the doctor would likely still be alive. If Pierce was going to simply kill him, he would’ve done so outside the church. He wanted to punish the doctor. After all, following Pierce’s “death” the doctor had tried to rehabilitate Pierce’s gang before the breakout. Pierce would torture him, torment him. And then, he’d gift the doctor death.
Ethan followed the dark passages as they took a slight turn to the left. His shoulder had grown a bit colder and more blood stained his tactical suit, but he ignored it. After these past months of endless battles, he’d received countless worse injuries. It didn’t matter. What mattered was ridding the city of another gang, another threat to the peace Ethan fought for.
***
William climbed to the bottom of the ladder and into the ancient crypt’s tunnel, immediately arriving face-to-face with The Guardian. Slung across William’s back was a FN Tactical Rifle. Not missing a beat, William tossed a few small explosive pellets towards his comrades and Ethan caught them effortlessly.
Unlike the passages Ethan had travelled through minutes earlier, this part of the maze was dimly lit by a few lamps hanging from the walls every fifty meters or so. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for both of them.
William quickly threw a black ski mask over his face. “Sure this is the right way?”
Ethan lobbed an item William’s way. Catching it, William stared down at the broken watch in his hands. The metal was freshly polished, a contrast to the ancient catacombs surrounding them.
“Does it look like it belongs in this place?”
William shook his head before dropping the watch. “The doctor left it as a clue? Smart man. How far away do you think they are?”
Ethan looked down as he attached the explosives to a few of his throwing knives. “500 meters.”
“You saw them?”
“Heard them.”
“Good enough. What’s the plan?”
“Priority is to rescue the doctor. They’ve bunkered down in a large atrium. From the entrance we’ll be going in from, it’s about a seventy foot drop. I’ll move in. Grab him as quickly as possible. You cover from up top.”
“You think the entire gang is like those three… I guess men, that you faced?”
“Likely so. But no matter how strong a person is, a bullet works just the same.”
William un-slung his rifle from his back and took it into his hands. “No truer words have ever been spoken.”
“Let’s move.”
***
The massive chamber was illuminated by lights hanging from the walls and countless burning torches on the floor. A central point that connected numerous passageways in the crypt, this ancient atrium nearly measured forty meters wide.
&n
bsp; At the bottom of the pit, amongst the flames, stood nearly twenty-five men. But they were not normal men. Like the men Ethan faced in the sewers, they were mutated by countless tests and chemicals. They were no longer recognizable as men, their bodies disproportionately strong as some of them possessed the strength of ten men.
They chanted wildly, as if they were a mad mob at the burning of a witch. With every passing moment, the gang’s rancorous voices intensified. The fires reflected off of their wild faces and bodies, casting their long shadows onto the floor and bricked walls. Some of them held up rusting machetes and blades while others wielded firearms. Their mad, wide eyes stayed trained on the prisoner huddled in the middle of the pack. It was a scene horrific enough to drive fear into the heart of any man or woman.
At the center of the crowd, a Dr. Paul remained chained and shackled. Some blood ran down his dark skin. Hours ago, he sat in church praying for a solution for his patients. Now, he was at the mercy of men he once tried to help.
And above the doctor stood the leader of the pack: Pierce. Unlike his men, Pierce’s body had not been mutated. But his eyes were madder, almost demonic. He roughly held the doctor by his hair, keeping him from falling over. His free hand held a long, sharpened scythe, the weapon mirroring the one tattooed on his cheek. Its sharpened edge stayed aimed at the prisoner’s throat.
Gaze trained on his crowd, Pierce’s commanding words drowned out the chaotic voices of his gang. “This man wishes to cure you! I say we don’t need to be cured. This city needs to be cured!”
His words were followed by a ruthless uproar. The followers raised their weapons as they hooted and hollered. Every syllable drove a dagger of terror through the Dr. Paul’s heart, forcing him to shut his eyes tighter.
“And the cleansing will continue with this devil! This fake prophet! This dog who wanted to make you mortal again! Who wished to strip you of the gifts I bestowed on you!”
The thunderous chaos only grew with every word Pierce uttered. It filled the chamber, echoing through the catacombs and crypts. The chaos fed on itself, growing uncontrollably.
Pierce’s blade drew nearer to the doctor’s throat. His voice barely outdid the chants and cries of his followers. “Will anybody stand for this man?”