WORLD 4: AWAKENING
Chapter Twenty: Resurrection

Mayla’s frantic cries faded away around the corner as Baylen knelt courageously to face his death.

Ceres lifeless body laid on the ground next to him, half of his skull blown apart, his silly personality forever gone. Baylen shook his head in denial — he couldn’t have that happen to him. He wouldn’t accept it. He had to survive.

There was also no way he could let his father rot in the forest without a proper burial. And Mayla — knowing that Oberon had her was driving Baylen’s survival harder than ever. He couldn’t die wondering what kinds of disgusting things were going to happen to her. If there was one thing he’d inherited from his father, it was a frustrating amount of stubbornness. He dug into any of it he could find in himself to get through the next part.

Roscoe marched in front of Baylen with his ABW pointed and a smile on his face. “Don’t worry, she’ll join you later,” he said.

“How brave and noble you are, shooting people from all the way over there,” Baylen said, mocking him. “Come here and look me right in the face as you do it, coward.”

“You sure? It’ll be a lot messier that way. Might not be anything of your head left.”

“Yes I’m sure, I want to see what you look like up close right before you murder someone.”

Roscoe snarled out part of a laugh, then came the short distance to him. “As you wish, sir,” he sneered, pressing the end of the weapon against Baylen’s forehead.

It was exactly what Baylen had hoped for. With lightning fast reflexes, he threw his head over to the right at the same moment his right arm flew out from behind his head. His hand gripped onto the Air Burst Weapon, pulling it forward and knocking Roscoe off balance. Turning on his knees, he sent a hard elbow right into Roscoe’s stomach, stumbling him backward, gasping and disoriented. Baylen sprung up to his feet, yanked the ABW out from whatever amount of grip Roscoe still had on it, aimed, and pulled the trigger straight at Roscoe’s head. It was over in less than five seconds.

Most people never experience what it’s like to kill another person, whether intentional or on accident, and Baylen had been no exception. Until that moment. He stared down at Roscoe’s face. Blood was pouring from the massive hole in his skull, arms sprawled out, the one eye he had left still open in shock, staring at the blankness of death. It was the most gruesome thing Baylen had ever been a part of. He backed up against the bloodied Science Shelter wall and slid down to the ground, shocked beyond repair.

The world around him began to spin. He gripped one hand into his tangled, messy hair. Sounds disappeared, his breathing echoed inside of his ears. Every limb was frozen. “Get up, Baylen,” he mumbled to himself in a stupor. He didn’t move.

Bodies were everywhere. The field, Ceres, the Command Officer, Roscoe — it was like they were staring at him, almost accusing him of being a part of it all. It took several minutes to snap back to reality.

The next and most important issue was getting to Mayla; it was the only thing Baylen cared about at that point. Taking deep, quick breaths, he took the Air Burst Weapon firmly in his grip and forced his legs to standing, then moved forward toward the Colony. But it would be slow-going — he’d have to move carefully to avoid being seen. Slinking back against the walls, he stalked past Science Shelter and peeked around the next corner.

There was movement. He hit the ground immediately, crouching low to hide himself a little more. He knew exactly who it could be: if not Oberon, it was one of his people. Roscoe’s absence may have triggered a search. He couldn’t risk the chance that someone would find him — they needed to be taken down immediately.

Changing direction, Baylen began to creep toward Med Shelter where the movement had come from. He was almost positive someone had stepped out of it. Sliding his back against the Shelter wall, he neared the corner. His breathing slowed as he steadied himself, gripping the ABW more tightly, trembling. Sweat carved lines into the dirt on his face. Even though he would kill again if it meant saving Mayla, it was still going to be tremendously hard.

He peeked his head around the wall of Med Shelter and saw a glimpse of what he’d been dreading: a man, facing away from him and leaning against the wall near the main Shelter door.

Baylen only got a split-second’s look of whoever it was, but it didn’t matter. He had all the information he needed — there was a person there, and that person had to be killed.

Sucking in a few short, anxious breaths, he pounced out from behind the wall, Air Burst Weapon in hand. He pointed it straight at the enemy.

The weapon fell to Baylen’s side. He stumbled, trying to process what was in front of him. “Dad?” he gasped.

Wes leaned against the Shelter wall, panting and a little disoriented. His white and gray warming shirt was sopping red from Oberon’s stabbing. He turned around with a start. “Baylen?”

“How are you alive?” whispered Baylen. He still couldn’t accept what was in front of him.

“With difficulty,” Wes replied weakly, wincing. A blood-smeared Thermal Arrester slipped from his hand into the dirt.

Baylen ran to his father’s side, horrified and stuttering. “You — you used that on yourself? Dad, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I needed to live, Bay.” Wes breathed out a tired chuckle and put an arm around his son. His eyes were exhausted and ragged. “Hurt a lot more than the stabbing, that’s for sure.”

Just imagining his father doing what he did made Baylen sick with despair. Even though it indeed had saved Wes’ life, pushing a heated tool like that inside of a deep stab wound would cause incredible pain. Not to mention the fact that it wouldn’t actually fix the injury permanently — he would need surgery as soon as possible.

Wes sighed and studied Baylen’s face. “I’m sorry, son.”

Baylen’s expression softened. He put an arm around his father’s waist. “Why? You don’t have anything to be sorry about, Dad.”

Wes clenched his eyes in shame. “I should have tried harder to help out there. I thought that if I showed how scared and frantic I was, Oberon would kill you just to punish me.” He looked at Baylen again, his pale face falling even further. “I’m so sorry. I’m just so glad you’re alive. If anything had happened to you because of me, I don’t know what I would’ve done, I…” He looked down at the dirt and shook his head.

“Hey,” Baylen said in a strong voice. He looked right into Wes’ eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t even think about it anymore.”

Wes sighed and changed the subject. “We have to find Oberon before he can get on board.”

“I saw him leave and go through camp toward the Colony,” said Baylen. He let go of Wes and had to compose himself. “He took her, Dad. Oberon dragged Mayla away, they’re going to kill her if we don’t go right now!”

“No, I just saw him walk past here and into the forest, alone, moments before I came out,” said Wes. He closed his eyes and took a long breath. “We have to take him down.”

Baylen shook his head. “No, Dad, if he doesn’t have Mayla then I’m sure Arison does. We need to get to her!”

Wes groaned and stood a little straighter, trying to get his strength back. “They won’t kill her. They’re going to use her to get Archauus to cooperate. Believe me, she’s safer with her father than she is out here with us and Oberon.” Baylen began to sound a protest again but Wes held up a bloodied hand to cut him off. “Son, even if we were able to get her back right now, Oberon is still out there. I heard him on a communicator, joking with someone about killing more citizens. Arison is at least smart and strategic and will keep her alive to use her, but Oberon will kill people just for fun. Including Mayla.”

Baylen shook his head and looked desperately in the direction they’d dragged her off to. “Dad —”

“Baylen.” Wes put both of his bloodied hands on Baylen’s shoulders and squeezed. “I know how you feel about her, I know,” he assured him softly. “Believe me when I say that getting rid of Oberon will help save her. Arison will use her to get inside the Colony to Archauus. Her father will take care of her until we can get in.”

Baylen’s face crumpled. “Alright,” he relented quietly. “But we need to hurry.”

Wes opened the door to Med Shelter and motioned for Baylen to follow him inside. “We need another Air Burst Weapon. Did you see any more of them while you were walking around?”

“No, unfortunately,” said Baylen. “Arison’s people from Colony Three have them all. I took this one from Roscoe before I killed him.”

Wes stopped abruptly halfway through the door. He turned with a look of sadness. Baylen had been forced to commit such an ugly act and he knew what repercussions would come with that. But there was also some pride mixed in; his son had taken down an armed killer all by himself. He nodded once and put a hand on Baylen’s shoulder. Nothing else needed to be said.

Wes exhaled slowly. “Let’s see if there’s anything in here we can use,” he said and led them in.

Baylen gasped in horror with the first step inside. The aftermath of his father’s attempt to fix the stab wound was all over the place. A long, smeared trail of blood covered the floor all the way from the door to the supply table. Bandages soaking with Wes’ blood lay discarded everywhere. An exam bed was covered in crimson handprints.

Baylen’s hands flew to his mouth. “Dad…”

“I’m alright,” Wes urged as strongly as he could. “We don’t have time to focus on this, we’ve got to get out there to Oberon. I heard him tell whoever it was on the communicator that he was going out to his transport in that other clearing.”

Baylen began searching the supply table, crates — anything at all that might hold something weapon-like. “This is the only thing I can think of.” He held up a laser scalpel. If Mayla had been able to use it on Oberon before, they could possibly use it again.

“It will have to do, I guess,” Wes reluctantly agreed.

He reached out for the scalpel but Baylen shoved the ABW to him instead. “You take this, Dad, you’re not in any state to fight someone hand-to-hand.”

Wes slid the settings around. “I’ll use audio bursts to keep everything quiet so that nobody from camp will hear.”

“I can disable him with the scalpel and then we can knock him out or something,” Baylen suggested with some uneasiness. Both men nodded and exchange looks before quietly opening the Shelter door.

Wes led the way, going slower than normal but still making a good pace. He pointed to the area he’d seen Oberon go. Baylen followed behind just as quietly, scanning the area in a circle at all times. Once reaching the tree line, Baylen motioned for them to hide. They went from tree to tree, moving forward while still attempting to stay concealed and safe. Halfway to the other clearing, their target came into view.

“Ready?” whispered Wes. Baylen nodded and gripped his tiny weapon.

Oberon stomped toward them across the forest floor, Air Burst Weapon in one hand. His attention was focused on a personal screen held in the other. For some reason, he carried a larger-than-normal scowl on his damaged face.

Wes aimed his ABW at Oberon’s head with military precision and pressed the trigger button. The weapon made no noise as it delivered a massive amount of quiet soundwaves. Oberon fell to the ground, howling and clutching his ears. His weapon and screen flew from his hands and far into the dirt. Baylen wasted no time; he was immediately at his enemy, punching him in the throat to silence any cries.

He tried to push Oberon over. “Help me grab his arms, Dad!”

Oberon’s years spent brutishly killing others had hardened him; he summoned the willpower to move, despite the terrible agony pulsing through his head. He swung his arms at Baylen, grabbing hold of him and bringing him into the line of fire just as Wes triggered the ABW again. Baylen shrieked from the pain permeating through his head and fumbled to cover his ears. The laser scalpel slipped from his fingers.

With a loud groan, Wes rushed out to pull his son out of Oberon’s grip but was too late — the same dagger that had been run through his stomach was being held to Baylen’s throat.

“I didn’t know you were immortal, old man,” Oberon said with genuine admiration. “Now let’s see if your son is, too.”

Wes’ hardened eyes didn’t leave Oberon. “I changed the settings on this Air Burst Weapon to kill, Oberon, and it’s pointed straight at your head! Let him go and I’ll be all yours.”

Oberon tilted his head. “How sweet, trying to save your son,” he said. His voice turned dark. “I also tried to save my children, but they were too good for this kind of life. My wife was innocent, too. She wouldn’t have deserved to live like we have.” He clenched his teeth. “I couldn’t save them, and you can’t save your child either, Second Commander.”

“I’ll take you down, Oberon, I swear!”

“Go ahead!” he snapped. “You hit me, you take out your boy!”

Baylen slowly reached out for his laser scalpel on the dirt while Wes kept Oberon distracted in a shouting match. He grasped it quickly, then reached out and dug it into Oberon’s hand, slicing a deep line into it. Oberon growled as his skin split open and he lowered the blade in instinct, giving Baylen enough room to launch himself forward. But he wasn’t fast enough — Oberon’s heel smashed into the side of his face.

Wes immediately fired an Air Burst. It missed and hit the tree behind Oberon, shattering bark in all directions. The two men charged each other. Wes’ ABW was knocked aside; Oberon seized the opportunity and took Wes’ neck in one of his hand’s massive grip. The dagger remained clenched in his other; he brought it up over his head to strike Wes down.

“Oberon!” screamed Baylen. He jumped onto Oberon’s back and dragged the scalpel down the length of it as deeply as it would go.

“AHHH!!” Oberon screamed, arching his back. He dropped Wes to the ground. Blood poured out from the bottom of his black military shirt. Baylen stood back, grinning and practically laughing in disbelief that he’d damaged him so badly. But Oberon wasn’t done.

“Is that all you have, you little wretch?!” he screamed at Baylen. Saliva dripped out of his mouth with each panted, pained breath. He beat his chest in fury. “A tiny medical blade can’t beat someone like me! You and that old man can’t take me down! I’ve done things you could never imagine!”

Wes lunged at him but was silenced with one punch to the face. Oberon spun around to face Baylen once more. “Dad’s leaving you again, son,” he said, backing Baylen into a tree. “And now, I’m going to make sure you don’t come back to life like he did.” He slammed Baylen against the trunk by the throat. “I wonder what sound your neck will make as I break it. Maybe your girlfriend’s will make the same one.”

Baylen gurgled and gasped for air as he struggled, kicking and clawing against Oberon in a last ditch effort to survive. But it was no use.

Just as the world around him was becoming speckled in black, Baylen fell to the ground, finally free of Oberon’s massive grip. He rolled onto his back, holding his throat and sucking in as much air as he could to recover.

Oberon let out a massive scream. Wes stood behind him, holding the three-bulbed dagger handle up against Oberon’s back. He ripped the blade out violently and pushed Oberon forward. Oberon turned, using every ounce of strength he had left to move his feet onward.

“You think that stupid dagger can stop someone like me, old man?” He gasped and stumbled toward Wes.

Wes’ face stayed hard and fixed. “The dagger isn’t stopping you, Oberon,” he said. “This old man is.” Staring directly into his eyes, Wes slammed the dagger through Oberon’s chest. No matter how much Oberon wanted to, he couldn’t stay upright anymore. His knees buckled; he collapsed in a heap.

“Dad,” rasped Baylen. He held his swollen throat, stumbling to join his father for a last look at their enemy. Oberon’s chest quickly stopped moving and he laid still, dead.

“We have to get to the Colony,” said Wes. He clutched the wound on his stomach and gave a great, moaning wince. As he drew his hand away, there was blood.

“Dad! You can’t go,” said Baylen. He put an arm around Wes to take some of his weight.

“You can’t do it alone,” said Wes, shaking his head and grimacing again. “I need to come with you.”

Baylen grabbed Wes’ jawline and held it firmly, trying to come off as tough. “You may have taken out Oberon, but you’re not going to be able to do it again. Not with the way you’re injured. You’ll kill yourself and then what use will you be?”

Wes groaned and clenched his eyes shut; he knew Baylen was right. “They might see you walking through camp,” he said nervously.

Baylen grabbed Roscoe’s ABW and shoved it into Wes’ hands. “Create a diversion with this. That way if there’s anyone wandering camp they’ll be focused on that and I’ll be able to get through. Then get up in the trees and hide.”

Wes pressed his lips together and exhaled slowly through his nose. He absolutely hated not being in control. Reluctantly, he took the weapon.

“Be careful, Bay,” he whispered.

Baylen nodded and flashed him a fabricated grin of reassurance. Swiping up Oberon’s Air Burst Weapon from where it had ended up behind a bush, he took a deep breath, and the two men parted ways in different directions against the same enemy.

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