night_wrtr
Non-human Protagonist
I have been working on a short recently that is taking me out of my comfort zone. I am much more comfortable with swords and battles, but decided to try some futuristic fantasy with guns and cyborgs. Set something in the near future on an alternate earth.
I am open to any and all feedback, but I am mostly concerned if the story flows well and keeps your interest. Also, does this opening give you a good idea about what the story is about?
****
The alert beacon on Dost’s forearm vibrated in short bursts. He forgot to remove his comms sleeve before falling asleep in the truck. To his credit it had been a long shift. He grimaced as the seat clicked upright, putting stress on the bruise in his ribs where a poacher’s bullet struck a few hours earlier.
He tapped the open mic control on his sleeve. “Kent,” he yawned, “what's the problem?”
Silence.
“Kent, why is the alert on?”
He rubbed his throbbing temples a moment before pressing the truck’s display. 3:18a.m. Less than an hour of sleep. He smacked the steering wheel and pressed the ignition button. The truck roared to life, and he backed out of the garage into the darkness of a far too early morning.
He pressed the comms for Saanna and was answered with static. “Where the hell is everyone?”
Dost arrived at the command bunker and skidded to a halt by the front door. He was tired, hungry and in pain. He was in no mood for this sh*t. Thick vegetation clung to the bunker’s walls and roof, allowing it to blend perfectly into the forest. Useful, when trying to stay hidden from the Olzobeast. The last thing they needed was for the monster to come knocking on their door with its tree sized limbs.
He lifted the hanging vines blocking the door and reached for the handle. He stopped short. The door was dented at the lock and wasn't completely shut. The grip of sleepiness let go of him then, goose bumps tickling his flesh.
Footsteps behind him, coming fast. Faster than he could spin around. A sharp crack hit the back of his skull and knocked him into the heavy steel door.
Pain erupted, surging down his neck and spine. Two men in camouflage grabbed him by the arms and dragged him inside.
Thankfully numbness took a bite of the pain, allowing him to focus on the room before him. It wasn't good. The two holding him down to his knees were dressed in Special Forces gear. Commando boots, green camo tactical pants and bulletproof vest. Each wore a mask with wide polarized visors. They would be hi-tech, capable of rendering night into daylight and set up with data screens on the inside that could give the wearer all the information they could want. Right down to someone's heart rate and mood.
He knew the type well. He had been one of them, but why were soldiers from the Empire of Nations on their reserve?
A third soldier had his helmet off, frowning at Dost while he held Saana at gunpoint. Kent lay on the floor, unmoving. No sign of blood, but he was clearly unconscious.
“Is this the one from the radio?” The gunman said.
“He came from the barracks,” the soldier to his left said.
“Just kill them and get me out of here.” Lucien, the poacher, stood at the door of the holding cell, forehead pressed to the bars, an eager expression on his face. No, not just a poacher. Dost’s mind worked to connect the pieces.
Dost studied the gun bearer’s movement. A slight nod, nearly indistinguishable. Shoulders dropped, a turn of the left foot, a shift in balance.
He was going to shoot. Saanna first, then him. As the gunman turned his head back around, Dost raised his right hand and grabbed the only exposed flesh the soldier had. The wrist, between shirt and glove. It was a soft touch between index and thumb, but it was quick and unnoticeable to the others in the room.
As soon as their skin touched, Dost surged, forcing a push of commands to the soldier’s brain. The soldier became sluggish. He tried to reach for the gun holstered at his side with his free hand, but then slowly relaxed, his mind unable to fight off Dost’s control. Dost was out of practice, but he held on, sending a second more powerful surge.
“Nothing personal,” the gunman said. “We don't leave witnesses.”
“Please,” Saanna said. “You don't have to kill us. Lock us in the cell, we could-”
The gun fired with a silenced pop. Blood spattered across Saanna’s face as the gunman fell from the wound in his neck.
“What the-” The soldier to his left gasped, releasing Dost as he reached for his own weapon. The soldier to his right looked down at the fired gun in his hand, shock and horror on his face. Dost let the surge go, grabbing the soldier’s arm and twisted, wrenching the pistol free.
Dost fired twice, knocking the soldier backward and down to the ground in a heap. The other man had recovered, slamming his fist into Dost’s jaw. Pain exploded as he fell onto the concrete floor, nearly blinded by the much bigger man’s punch. The soldier yanked the pistol out of Dost’s hand.
“What did you do!?” He said. “You made me…I-” He looked at the two bodies and screamed in rage. He pointed the gun at Dost. The shot came from the far end of the room. The bullet struck the soldier’s vest. The second hit his arm, the third through his visor. He crumbled to the ground, dead.
Saanna held the gun in trembling hands. He knew she'd never killed anyone until now. She was a Park Ranger, not a soldier. He raised his hands and walked forward. “Saanna?” She stared at the soldier lying on the ground. She broke her gaze and looked at him.
She came back to the moment, remembering Kent and rushed to his side. “He’s alive,” she said a moment later. Grabbing a med kit from the nearby wall, she flipped the latches and started to pull the first aid kit apart.
Dost checked the bodies one at a time, careful to keep out of reach. If any had been cyborgs, they would be much harder to kill. He relaxed. They were all dead. He accessed his chip enhanced memory and replayed the scene, looking for as much detail as he could, then he heard the sobs from inside the cell. Lucien, the poacher.
“Start talking,” he said stepping toward the cell.
The poacher trembled. “I'll die in a cell just like this. They promised me I'd go free!”
“Who?”
“No,” Lucien said to himself. “No, they’ll realize some are missing. They’ll come. I'll be fine. I’m fine.” The man smiled then, grabbing the bars and bearing his teeth. “You might have bought yourselves time, but they will come. And when they do, you will be dead.” The poacher laughed and leaned in. “Your creature is likely dead by now. They won't leave survivors. No witnesses.”
“You were the decoy.” He glanced at the dead soldiers. Without a thought, Dost felt a surge tickle his fingertips. His hair stood on end and the powerful flow of energy made his hands shake. He took a step toward the cell and lunged forward, grabbing the poacher by the hair.
The sudden movement caught him by surprise and the man yelped. He forced the energy through his fingers and into Lucien’s head. The poacher’s struggling grunts turned to screams as Dost bored into his mind, digging out memories to sift through. He needed answers, and wasn’t afraid of cutting this man’s mind up to find them.
I am open to any and all feedback, but I am mostly concerned if the story flows well and keeps your interest. Also, does this opening give you a good idea about what the story is about?
****
The alert beacon on Dost’s forearm vibrated in short bursts. He forgot to remove his comms sleeve before falling asleep in the truck. To his credit it had been a long shift. He grimaced as the seat clicked upright, putting stress on the bruise in his ribs where a poacher’s bullet struck a few hours earlier.
He tapped the open mic control on his sleeve. “Kent,” he yawned, “what's the problem?”
Silence.
“Kent, why is the alert on?”
He rubbed his throbbing temples a moment before pressing the truck’s display. 3:18a.m. Less than an hour of sleep. He smacked the steering wheel and pressed the ignition button. The truck roared to life, and he backed out of the garage into the darkness of a far too early morning.
He pressed the comms for Saanna and was answered with static. “Where the hell is everyone?”
Dost arrived at the command bunker and skidded to a halt by the front door. He was tired, hungry and in pain. He was in no mood for this sh*t. Thick vegetation clung to the bunker’s walls and roof, allowing it to blend perfectly into the forest. Useful, when trying to stay hidden from the Olzobeast. The last thing they needed was for the monster to come knocking on their door with its tree sized limbs.
He lifted the hanging vines blocking the door and reached for the handle. He stopped short. The door was dented at the lock and wasn't completely shut. The grip of sleepiness let go of him then, goose bumps tickling his flesh.
Footsteps behind him, coming fast. Faster than he could spin around. A sharp crack hit the back of his skull and knocked him into the heavy steel door.
Pain erupted, surging down his neck and spine. Two men in camouflage grabbed him by the arms and dragged him inside.
Thankfully numbness took a bite of the pain, allowing him to focus on the room before him. It wasn't good. The two holding him down to his knees were dressed in Special Forces gear. Commando boots, green camo tactical pants and bulletproof vest. Each wore a mask with wide polarized visors. They would be hi-tech, capable of rendering night into daylight and set up with data screens on the inside that could give the wearer all the information they could want. Right down to someone's heart rate and mood.
He knew the type well. He had been one of them, but why were soldiers from the Empire of Nations on their reserve?
A third soldier had his helmet off, frowning at Dost while he held Saana at gunpoint. Kent lay on the floor, unmoving. No sign of blood, but he was clearly unconscious.
“Is this the one from the radio?” The gunman said.
“He came from the barracks,” the soldier to his left said.
“Just kill them and get me out of here.” Lucien, the poacher, stood at the door of the holding cell, forehead pressed to the bars, an eager expression on his face. No, not just a poacher. Dost’s mind worked to connect the pieces.
Dost studied the gun bearer’s movement. A slight nod, nearly indistinguishable. Shoulders dropped, a turn of the left foot, a shift in balance.
He was going to shoot. Saanna first, then him. As the gunman turned his head back around, Dost raised his right hand and grabbed the only exposed flesh the soldier had. The wrist, between shirt and glove. It was a soft touch between index and thumb, but it was quick and unnoticeable to the others in the room.
As soon as their skin touched, Dost surged, forcing a push of commands to the soldier’s brain. The soldier became sluggish. He tried to reach for the gun holstered at his side with his free hand, but then slowly relaxed, his mind unable to fight off Dost’s control. Dost was out of practice, but he held on, sending a second more powerful surge.
“Nothing personal,” the gunman said. “We don't leave witnesses.”
“Please,” Saanna said. “You don't have to kill us. Lock us in the cell, we could-”
The gun fired with a silenced pop. Blood spattered across Saanna’s face as the gunman fell from the wound in his neck.
“What the-” The soldier to his left gasped, releasing Dost as he reached for his own weapon. The soldier to his right looked down at the fired gun in his hand, shock and horror on his face. Dost let the surge go, grabbing the soldier’s arm and twisted, wrenching the pistol free.
Dost fired twice, knocking the soldier backward and down to the ground in a heap. The other man had recovered, slamming his fist into Dost’s jaw. Pain exploded as he fell onto the concrete floor, nearly blinded by the much bigger man’s punch. The soldier yanked the pistol out of Dost’s hand.
“What did you do!?” He said. “You made me…I-” He looked at the two bodies and screamed in rage. He pointed the gun at Dost. The shot came from the far end of the room. The bullet struck the soldier’s vest. The second hit his arm, the third through his visor. He crumbled to the ground, dead.
Saanna held the gun in trembling hands. He knew she'd never killed anyone until now. She was a Park Ranger, not a soldier. He raised his hands and walked forward. “Saanna?” She stared at the soldier lying on the ground. She broke her gaze and looked at him.
She came back to the moment, remembering Kent and rushed to his side. “He’s alive,” she said a moment later. Grabbing a med kit from the nearby wall, she flipped the latches and started to pull the first aid kit apart.
Dost checked the bodies one at a time, careful to keep out of reach. If any had been cyborgs, they would be much harder to kill. He relaxed. They were all dead. He accessed his chip enhanced memory and replayed the scene, looking for as much detail as he could, then he heard the sobs from inside the cell. Lucien, the poacher.
“Start talking,” he said stepping toward the cell.
The poacher trembled. “I'll die in a cell just like this. They promised me I'd go free!”
“Who?”
“No,” Lucien said to himself. “No, they’ll realize some are missing. They’ll come. I'll be fine. I’m fine.” The man smiled then, grabbing the bars and bearing his teeth. “You might have bought yourselves time, but they will come. And when they do, you will be dead.” The poacher laughed and leaned in. “Your creature is likely dead by now. They won't leave survivors. No witnesses.”
“You were the decoy.” He glanced at the dead soldiers. Without a thought, Dost felt a surge tickle his fingertips. His hair stood on end and the powerful flow of energy made his hands shake. He took a step toward the cell and lunged forward, grabbing the poacher by the hair.
The sudden movement caught him by surprise and the man yelped. He forced the energy through his fingers and into Lucien’s head. The poacher’s struggling grunts turned to screams as Dost bored into his mind, digging out memories to sift through. He needed answers, and wasn’t afraid of cutting this man’s mind up to find them.
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And yes, your summary is what I wanted to show at this point. The plot thickens later.
