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Bones. That's my name, I have no other. At least, not that I can remember. The only thing I remember is waking up. Waking up with a driving purpose to kill. View table of contents...


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Submitted:Dec 21, 2012    Reads: 5    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Bones. That's my name, I have no other. At least, not that I can remember. The only thing I remember is waking up. Waking up with a driving purpose to kill.

"Pitch to Bones," Pitch's voice came through my earpiece.

"On your left," I murmured, creeping forward. Pitch didn't respond, but I saw his movements alter slightly to accommodate me. As he edged forward, I kept my assault equalizer trained to the side of him, never blinking. As one, we moved ten steps closer to the target, a small dusty cottage.

"Flag to Bones," Flag's voice crackled through my earpiece next. I didn't take my eyes off of Pitch's back when I answered, "Fifty paces in front of you."

"Be warned, someone is following you," Flag droned.

I sighed inwardly but didn't move a muscle. "Stand by," I told both of my companions. Pitch immediately melted into the underbrush, leaving behind no sign that he had been there. Moving smoothly, I sheathed my weapon and concealed myself in the trees to my immediate left. Soundlessly, I strode through the woods, looking for the tail Flag had alerted me to.

The cracking of a twig behind me had me whirling around, equalizer already drawn. "Drop it, scum hunter!" the man yelled, pointing his ancient gun at me. It looked to be a pistol of some sort, from around the year 2000. Well, within twenty years of that time anyway. My expression didn't change as I dropped my weapon; it rarely did. It was one of the reasons why most of the population feared us. They regarded us as robots, programmed to do our jobs mercilessly and efficiently. Which was true, for the most part. I was told that I didn't have feelings about those I hunted, so I didn't. I was told to kill, so I did. I didn't have questions; there was nothing to dispute. As long as I followed orders, I was invincible.

Which is why this man did not stand a chance. He was basically trembling in fear, and I was merely standing motionless. Perhaps that is what scared him so much. In one movement, I flicked a knife from my sleeve into the man's throat. His wide eyes focused on me as I stared at him impassively, watching him die. As soon as I was sure that he was dead, I picked up my equalizer and silently went back to my previous position.

"Proceed," I told Pitch and Flag. Flag was still out of my sight, but Pitch materialized in front of me exactly where he had disappeared one minute earlier. As one, we moved toward the farmhouse. Precisely when he was supposed to, Flag fired three shots through the north window. Pitch and I advanced, keeping exactly ten yards apart. "Enforcers," Pitch announced to the unseen occupants, his gun trained on the front door. No other introduction was necessary.

It was almost expected when gunshots rang out from inside the building, shattering the windows. Methodically, we dodged bullets while working our way toward the front door. Our intense training and enhanced senses made it seem like an easy task, requiring hardly any thought.

Flag was converging on my right flank when Pitch kicked in the door. The three of us automatically stepped to the side as the criminals fired at the open door. When our sensitive ears heard the almost imperceptible click of the weapon, we strode inside single file - Pitch, Flag, and me.

I kept my equalizer trained on the five people huddled on the bare floor. Two women and three men stared up at us. The women looked terrified at our arrival, but the men were defiant. One held an outdated automatic rifle, still pointed at Pitch, even though we knew he was out of ammunition. Pitch held his equalizer loosely at his side, knowing that Flag and I had the situation under control. We always did. "You are wanted for a hearing with the Provincial Syndicate," Pitch recited, his voice emotionless and flat. "If you resist, we will use lethal force to subdue-"

Before Pitch could finish, the man holding the rifle lunged, swinging the weapon like a club. I dropped him before he could take his first step. The women screamed, clutching each other, their terrified eyes looking at us as though we were robots, not humans.

Flag stepped forward with no cue from Pitch, taking bracelets from his belt. He cuffed the women first, the binding current snapping itself around their wrists. They put up no resistance, as was typical for women. One of the men stubbornly wrenched his arm out of Flag's grasp. Flag leaned slightly to the side as I flipped a small, two inch blade into the criminal's shoulder. The blade doubled as an electric inducement of paralysis, the current freezing his body for twenty seconds. Flag calmly finished cuffing him and his partner, who wisely decided to behave. He finished by connecting all four of them together by tripping a switch on his belt. Immediately, the bracelets were connected by a tangible current.

Pitch led the way out, Flag brought the criminals, and I brought up the rear, as usual. Another mission, another success. I was eager to get back to our base and obtain further orders





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