Base Jumpers Part IV

Maxwell knew more than he might have hoped. In his opinion there was only one Grafter who could pull this level of cloning off. Someone else might have gone in there guns blazing and tried to do the whole thing themselves. Dak brought in the boys. The Public Enforcers rained into the complex. Most of the men they found didn’t survive the ordeal and that suited him fine. The less that knew about Erin’s true nature the better. He himself had put a bullet in the Grafter’s skull when he had drawn against him. Maxwell had wanted the guy dead anyway.

In one of the cloning vats, they had discovered another of the bald assassins ready to go. The Grafter had just begun to animate it. Dak hadn’t minded at all when a half dozen trigger-happy Enforcers had mowed the clone in half.

Then it was nothing but the paperwork. It was a big bust, but like everything else it would blow over in a few days whenever something new came up.

Dak had no idea how much the repercussions of this bust would effect the rest of his life.

                                                         *        *        *

As the first part of their reward, Maxwell had set them up in one of his safe houses. It was a surprisingly nice villa in one of the newer sections of the inner Hub. Erin lounged on pastel floor pillows. The opened windows blew gauze curtains the color of pink coral across the room. Erin rolled onto her back the full length lace negligee did little to conceal…anything.

His Personal rang.

Erin eyed him. “Don’t you dare.”

“It could be important,” he said and she rolled back on her tummy and returned her attentions to a glossy magazine. If she thought that such a thing was punishment, she was wrong, because she looked delightful that way too.

It was Matthews. “Dak, Dak are you okay?”

“Yeah. Sure. Why?”

“The people looking into those blasters just gave me a call. I guess they had my number on file for the case. You know that officer that got shot thing. So it would speed up the case and all that.”

“Yeah, yeah Matthews.” Erin glanced at him over her slim shoulder.

“Well they have a tracker on them. That was how they were able to locate you. They went after Erin both times, so it’s probably on her.”

“Without overly sharing, I can assure you that Erin isn’t wearing enough to have any tracker on her now.” This got her attention and she turned around and glared at him.

“No, no this is high tech stuff. It could detect a spray of perfume or clear paint. They have chemicals that it takes weeks to wash off. Another agent could have sprayed her at a store or something.”

This gave him Pause. Erin sat up now her magazine forgotten.

“Don’t worry Matthews, we got them, I saw the last clone die myself.”

He could sense the relief. It was nice to have a friend. “Okay then, okay. I was worried. Just wanted to make sure. You might want to make sure Erin doesn’t have any lingering-“

”I’ll clean her up real good, Matthews. Good night.”

“Clean me up real good,” she asked. She was just about to stand up, but Dak was tackling her. He had seen the figure climb through the window only seconds before it unleashed a massive volley out of the all to familiar blaster rifle.

Erin had been drinking wine and the bottle was quickly lunched at the clone. Dak watched the wine spill in lazy arcs as it spiraled through the air. It took the assassin in the eye stunning him enough to spoil is aim.

“How many times to I have to kill this loser,” Dak snarled, as he leapt for his discarded overcoat.  Erin went the other way snatching up her purse as she went. Dak felt like his heart stopped when another round of shots elicited a shrill scream from his love.

The clone really was more concerned about killing her!

Erin was firing some sort of small flashgun at it. Fingers tore at his jacket trying to get his pistol loose. Gossamer drapes hovered between him and his target. Many of them were burning. This emitted a thick greasy smoke. The clone was hovering over Erin. The rifle aimed just as Dak’s flashgun came free. He fired without looking. Earlier he had used his slug thrower during the raid, for he wanted to make sure things stayed permanent. He had never switched his Flashgun from its wide angle setting. The cone of energy funneled before him. As soon as it hit the clone he began to quake. Soon it was dissolving in a familiar pattern, but Dak wasn’t watching. One of Erin’s slim perfect legs had been nearly severed.

She was losing blood quickly.

“I guess they had already sent one after me,” she whimpered while trying to fight against the pain.

“Oh Erin, hold still,” he said as he began to apply pressure onto her wound.

“Why Dak? I never tried to do anything to hurt anyone.”

“Shh, I’m going to call for help.”

“No, no, it has to be my people, call Mace.”

Mace was about the last person he would ever want to call, but he did anyway. Still even with the Jumper Riggers, it was only Dak’s daring move to cauterize Erin’s wound with his flashgun that kept her alive long enough to make it to Maxwell’s personal Grafter. Rumor had it that the Doctor himself aided in the safe transfer of his love.

FInd out more about New Cluster and the Skinjumpers here!

 

Dionysus Wine

When we wish to enter into the Devine

The best way to start is with Wine

 

As old as recorded History

Let the pleasures of wine flow into Me

Unfocus our Sight

As we head into Delight

Our senses Abound

As our feet feel like they have left the Ground

We can all relax while we Talk

And head into the Eternal Baccanaught

These things were put here for a Reason

Each pleasure in its own Season

Tonight we drink to you Dionysus

For we know your presence is always with Us

We seek a life full of Pleasure

And with you we find it beyond all Measure

So mighty Lord watch over your People

As this wine becomes our Temple

Learn more about how Hero use the Mystic Archetypes to fight through the Conflicts that confront them!

Become one with Baccus Here!

Heavy Boots of Lead

Authors Note: The following story takes place between The Chronicles of Jack Primus book I and book II. Jack is still living in Boston, spending most of his time studying the ways of the Stalwart with the ‘Man in Brown,’ Phillip Brownhurst.

Even though almost three months had passed since Jack moved into the storage room in the back of Phillip Brownhurst’s tavern, it was still hard for him to get used to having a bar be his home. Phillip had his own place not too far away and although the Dionysus follower spent much of his time with Jack, on most mornings Primus found himself wandering through the chairs and tables alone.

He bellied up to the bar and focused on downing a half-dozen cold chicken wings and getting some caffeine into his system. He had just opened his second can of soda when he heard a cry coming from the alley behind the bar.

 

Slowing only long enough to grab a baseball bat, he was half way into the alley when he remembered that perhaps he should have called Phillip first. Too late now, he thought as his boots took him into the early morning mists.

Gray still owned the morning and made him wonder if the Glooms could somehow be involved with whatever occurred behind the tavern. Phillip had warned him that Stalwarts often see Xemmoni everywhere when there was plenty of mundane evil to go around without any help from supernatural masters.

 

The strange thing was he couldn’t see anything. Then he looked down and spotted small circles of darkness on the cracked pavement. It didn’t take him long to recognize it as blood. It looked like a trail, but did it head left or right. He might only have seconds…

He enacted his Detect Darken spell. His Ki sent it moving through the clinging mists. He wouldn’t help him detect a decent person or maybe even an evil uncorrupted man, but if a Xemmoni was involved it would alert him at once.

At first he thought that he had stumbled into a more normal conflict, but then his spell reached something moving to his right. Like a thorn on malign energy, a sick purple aura stabbed through his awareness. Violet, the color of decaying flesh, disturbed and distorted the very reality it passed through.

“A Hyades,” he whispered. “The silent stalkers.”

Whatever it was, it appeared big and powerful. Crap, Jack thought. Maybe I should have called Phillip first or grabbed a better weapon. But then the scream sounded again, maybe a hundred feet away and certainly female. Screw that, he chided himself. I never had help before and I’ve been through worse with less.

A second later he was running west. A second after that a strange banging could be heard echoing through the lonely alley.

Whatever chased the woman was between Jack and the screams. Something tall, wide, and loud loomed up out of the fog. Jack slowed his sprint. The figure had to be almost seven feet tall, but even from the distance, it looked odd. Everything about it seemed square. Like a child had created a giant out of building blocks. Legs and chest were rectangle in shape as was its head.

 

As Jack drew closer, he saw the cause. Whatever this thing might be, it appeared to have made a suit of armor for itself. But this was nothing like medieval armor that matched a person’s form. This armor appeared bulky, like some guy used a blow torch in his basement and welded thick sheet of metal into squares, which covered most of his frame.

Just past the Xemmoni, Jack could make out a woman dragging herself along the pavement. One of her legs appeared useless and she released a third scream as the steel giant moved in for the kill.

“Hey, Tin Woodsman,” Jack called out. “Care to see what it’s like taking on someone who isn’t helpless or are you too chickenshit for that? Maybe you should just stay at home and pull the wings off of flies you poor man’s Iron…”

 

But Jack’s bravado faded with his voice as the thing turned toward him. Glowing violet eyes cut through the fog and for a moment, Jack wondered if maybe the creature could be a machine of some kind, but then the booming metal feet started to come toward him. The armor squeaked and rattled, but looked thick and sturdy. Along each of the Xemmoni’s steel legs, as well as its forearms, large knives nearly the size of machetes appeared to be built into the armor itself. The space on its left arm was empty for a two foot, back hued blade already rested in its right hand.

Jack didn’t wait to be attacked. He yelled for the woman to flee and then went in low and tried to smash the mountain of metal on the knee. He might as well swung at a lamppost. His fingers throbbed from the impact, but it didn’t slow the man down for a second. It swung its blade in a wide arc and Jack was just able to move back in time to keep from sprouting a second mouth.

Jack swung again, but the Xemmoni just held up its armored left arm. And there was another bone rattling blow to his hands. This time, with surprising speed, he hacked down at Jack. The Stalwart cried out when the blade cut him from his right collar bone to the bottom of his ribcage. If he had been a couple of inches closer his bowls would have spilled over the pavement.

As it was, Jack almost lost his footing as he back pedaled away from the Hyades and healed himself. The wound was bad and he felt a sliver of fear when he realized he’d already burned through half his KI.

But the creature proved relentless and rushed at him swinging again. This time Jack blocked it with his bat, but at the price of losing a foot off the tip of his weapon. He lunched what was left at the Xemmoni’s face. It hit the stark helmet there, but the unexpected blow caused the man of metal to take a step back. During this pause, Jack rushed away. But he remained weaponless and hadn’t even hurt the thing yet.

Sirens cut through the cold morning air. The Xemmoni stared at Jack. Their eyes met and Jack felt his blood run cold against his spine. Yet, instead of attacking him, the killer drew an object off its back. It proved to be a crowbar and with no great hurry it moved to the nearest manhole, pulled the top off, and then climbed in. The top was replaced and Jack was alone in the alley.

Alone in the alley… with cops coming. Some luck remained with him for he was still only a few hundred feet shy of the tavern and he was just able to make it through the back door when three squad cars tore into the alley.

“Son of a bitch,” he panted. “Phillip isn’t going to believe this one.”

To be continued next Monday

Find out how Jack’s Adventures Started Here!

Lock Down, Bite Down, Part VII

Sheriff Dells and Mickey carried a bloody and screaming Bill back into the sheriff station, while Becca hurried to slam the door behind them.

“More are coming sheriff,” she said as she threw the lock.

“They’ll have to wait,” Dells said while he wrapped a towel around Bill’s tattered neck bite.

“Just kill him now, before he turns.” Henry called out from his cell.

Mickey lifted his face that had become smeared with his friend’s blood. “You were bit, should we kill you too?”

“You’ll probably have to, but I’d rather wait to be sure these bites kill like in the movies.” Henry shrugged. “You never know, the movies could be wrong.”

“Will you two stop blabbing,” Dells ordered. “Becca get me some more towels. Mick, help me lift him onto Johnson’s desk.”

By the time they had Bill on the desk, he had stopped crying out and his breath came in jagged gasps. “Come on, we could still save him. Becca you help me. Mick, you keep an eye on those freaks out there and grab your cell phone and start calling everyone you know. Tell them to stay inside or meet here.” Blood squirted through his fingers, “And if they came here, make sure they bring every weapon they got.”

Mickey started to press a few buttons of his phone while he looked out the windows. “I’m not sure why they’re coming here Sheriff or why we got so many so fast, but there must be at least twenty of those nasty bastards out there now.”

“Yesterday those nasty bastards were our family and friends, so-”

A loud moan broke his concentration and he jerked back as Bill’s bloody mouth lurched for his arm. “Mother of—Becca look out!”

But the girl needed no warming from him. With a startled cry she dashed away toward the cell that held her wounded brother. In the other occupied cell the undead UPS driver started to thrash and got even crazier than before.

“Kill it, kill it,” she shouted.

While the sheriff was disturbed to hear Henry laugh and say, “this is so cool,” under his breath.

What was once Bill, rolled off the desk and made to grab for him again, while outside, the first sounds of fists banging against the door could be heard. Since Dells rifle was leaning against the wall, he went for his pistol, but before he could grab it two things happened. The first was Mickey shouting out as an arm burst through one of the front windows. The second was Bill grabbing the sheriff’s arm, so that he couldn’t pull the pistol free.

Dells started backpedalling and it probably saved his life, for Bill’s teeth snapped shut just inches from his face. The sheriff kept moving until his back crashed against a wall. Bill growled loudly and threw himself forward. Dells looked on in horror as the bloody teeth came at his face.

A loud retort sounded and Bill’s head jerked back. A second later, his body toppled to the floor.

Looking over, he saw the teen standing on the other end of the smoking barrel. “Ah… thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it,” she said actually cracking a smile.

“Quit congratin’ each other,” Mickey shouted. “We got real problems here!”

Dells’ eyes grew wide with horror as he saw the first bloody form trying to force itself through the window.

Check in next Saturday for the next Chapter of Eternal Aftermath!

You can explore more of the Eternal Aftermath here!

SJ and the Shovel Part II

SJ and The Shovel… continued through some Chaos, Comedy, and a little Magick. I might had fixed a few typos, but back then I had no idea anything abut SJ and actually thought sh was a man. Scott Sandridge joined in with little Wax Head Boy, who is jst strange. So here is part II and I hope you enjoy.

MDG

Um, would Shovel like to play with Little Wax Boy Head. I think still have him around here somewhere from my days I spent waxing Target’s floors. He doesn’t talk as much as he used to….

Shhhhh SJ listen to me. I think some of these people are trying to get your shovel. We need to get out of here while we can. Before they catch on.

Meet me at midnight at the El Rancho Hotel in Gallup NM and bring the shovel.

SS

But Little Wax Boy Head wants to talk to Shovel weely weely badly…..

SJ

I’m sorry but the shovel will not be making any public appearences or doing any interviews until SJ signs this contract I have written up for him.

SS

Well, frakity-frak-frak-frakity. 

MDG

Okay

Little Wax Boy Head…hmmmm. We might have a few bodyguard positions opening up. We are expecting a lot of press when the shovel goes public. What does Little Wax Boy Head have it terms of a resume?
 

SS

Erm…he’s made of hardened wax, can be thrown, and whines a lot?

MDG

Ok sounds perfect

As long as I get the okay from the Shovel your in. LWBH will be in charge of crowd control and keeping the press at bay.

Does he need a cooler full of ice or anything? When we start to tour America we might be traveling through some hot regions. I would not want him to melt all over the new Italian shoes that I will soon be buying.

SS

 Yaaayyyy!

SJ

 

Help! Me and Shovel have been kidnapped! Not sure exactly where we are… Some scuzzy motel in the middle of a very dusty nowhere – does that help???

And that Mike guy is five shots of vodka short of a cocktail, for sure… Keeps patting me on the shoulder and asking ‘How we are today, SJ’ in that pseudo-saccharine voice of his that’s fooling NO ONE. Not even Little Wax Boy Head. While trying to push pills down my throat by putting them in my horse-burgers (it’s gotta be horse – no cow could ever taste that bad…).

And I now know why Scotty’s panting to get rid of Little Wax Boy Head. He never lets up! Goes on and on… Whining about all the floors he’s had to clean and how it’s time for the workers of the world to unite. And Mike has hired him as a bodyguard – well that’s a joke! In the temperatures we’re sweating under out here, he spends most of his time melting in a bucket. He’d make Mike’s mad Aunty Maud look hard… She’s the one that s’posed to be running this place. Meaning she mostly spends her time counting flies on the fly-paper and sweeping the piles of sand from one corner of the room to the other, while muttering under her breath. And making those horse-burgers.
Well, Shovel’s cogitating right now. Still pondering the mysteries of the Universe. But he’s also getting really ticked off with all of this stuff. And they’d better watch out. Cos if Mike and that Little Whining Boy Head go on causing all this grief – SHOVEL’S GOING TO MAKE THEM VERRRRY SORRY!!!

And me? I don’t want to be a bad person. I don’t want Shovel to do something he’ll regret. We just joined this forum for a better life – and NOW look what’s happened! So… if you happen to be passing through the tackiest, most rundown motel on the planet – look out for me and Shovel. He’s the shiny, intelligent one. I’m the aging blonde in wax-spattered jeans (LWBH doesn’t believe in personal space when he’s grizzling about how unfair the world is).

Help!

 

MDG

LOL

Please pardon my friend, we are all fine out here. She has just been under a lot of stress while we work on our press package.

No one needs to worry about us SJ is just a little confused and this is very new to him. I think he is getting nervous about his soon to be obtained fame. I know the shovel is.

But let me clear up a few things. First off they are Mutton burgers from the Navajo Nation not horse burgers, those would cost way too much. I agree that hiring Little Wax Boy Head might have been a bad idea, but sometimes it is good to give shovel someone to talk to.

Even stranger, an odd sea gull has shown up in the middle of the desert. Ever time I get near he is always walking away, walking away. The Shovel says its name is Dahtoe, but I’m not sure how he knows that. I just wonder who it is working for. Does it have a spy cam?

I try to check, but it is always walking away, walking away and I can never catch it.
So to reiterate:

1. We are fine.
2. Don’t send help.
3. Let us know if you find out who owns a lost seagull.
4. Oh yes and if you do drop by bring lots of ice. I’m not sure how much longer LWBH is going to make it out here.

If you would like to so some of my more current Comedy on The Daily Discord, Click Here!

Eternal Aftermath

BY

Michael D. Griffiths

It is five years deep into the Zombie Apocalypse when Devon and his allies attempt to free themselves from the oppressive military base that has housed them since the plague began. Their group is betrayed and General Sulter uses Devon to set an example for others. Once Devon is stripped of his weapons, socks, and shoes, he is dumped into the middle of zombie filled Tucson and things get worse from there.

 It is five years deep into the Zombie Apocalypse when Devon attempts to free himself from the oppressive military base that has housed him. He is betrayed &Devon is stripped of his weapons, socks, and shoes, he is dumped into the middle of zombie filled Tucson and things get worse from there. 

 

Enter the Eternal Aftermath and join Devon as he moves from just trying to stay alive to daring to hope that he can somehow free Tucson and rebuild civilization, one survivor at a time.

See the new Video featuring the author below!

Check out what happens when Zombie Author Michael D. Griffiths Enters the Eternal Aftermath right now!

Breaking their way in

Eternal Aftermath II, No Haven

More than five years has passed since humanity fell and then stood back up cold, dead, and hungry. Devon has survived through the Zombie Apocalypse long enough to gather stalwart allies, but will his struggling group of refugees be enough to fight off the only things more dangerous than the stumbling hordes of undead—the mad man that seek to rule over the scraps of the old world.

Devon is different, instead of looking back, he seeks to move forward. Build a utopia that was never before possible. He has claimed the Sonoran Desert for his group. Yet, with multiple armies organizing against him and swarms of zombies covering the lands, will he even be able to keep the people he has gathered alive?

Check out the more intense Zombie series of the decade and enter

The Eternal Aftermath

Mar Imprisoned

Lock Down, Bite Down Part VI

Henry!” Becca gasped, as her brother rushed into the sheriff’s station holding a blood soaked arm.

Dells knew the boy. He wasn’t a mastermind of crime or even a punk drug dealer who fancied himself some sort of half-assed gangster. No, this late teen was more of the type that got into trouble doing stupid bullshit like lighting the desert on fire with bottle rockets or getting busted stealing bottle of booze from their small town’s only grocery store.

“Were you bit?” Mickey was quick to ask.

In the background, the smell of fresh blood seemed to be exciting their prisoner and he thrashed himself against the bars with complete disregard for his own body.

“Yeah and it hurts like hell.”

Mickey turned to face Dells. “Then we need to get rid of him. You saw what happened to Janice and the others. He could be becoming one of those things.” As if to emphasize his point, a high pitch scream could be heard in the distance.

“Hey, wait a second,” Henry complained. “I’m not dead. I think they’d have to kill you first.”

Dells pointed at the trashing UPS driver. “I don’t think he drove all the way here after being dead.”

Bill said, “Do you really think he’s dead?”

“I shot one in the chest and it kept coming,” Dells said while moving toward his desk. “Whatever they are, it isn’t good. But the kid is right. They aren’t talking once they lose it.” Looking Henry’s way, “I’m going to have to lock you up though, just to be safe.”

“Screw that!” Henry yelled. “I’m not going to sit here and be trapped while the town goes to shit.” He made a break for the door, but Mickey and Bill grabbed at him. He tried to fight again them, but with his wounded arm, he didn’t have much chance.

“Becca, Help! Don’t let them do this to me.”

She walked behind the men while the sheriff opened the door. “Come on Hen, this is the safest thing. They could just be putting a bullet through your eyes.”

“And we still might if he turns into one of those things,” Mickey said.

“Put a lid on that crap,” Dells ordered. “The only way to test your theory is to do something like this anyway. It doesn’t seem like we’ll be getting help soon, so we need to figure out what’s going on ourselves and with most of our medical experts dead, it’s up to us, okay. Okay?”

“Yes sheriff.”

A series of loud moaning sounded from outside.

Bill stood closest to the window and said, “Holy Jesus, they’re here already.”

“How many?” Dells asked as he lifted his M-4 off his desk.

“Looks like three, but one of them is Fran Tucker and Vinnie G is out there. Oh man, he’s a mess. Half his throat is gone and the whole front of him is covered in blood. His arms have nasty holes in them.” He turned back toward the others. “How could this be happening so fast?”

Mickey had made it to the window. “No living man could be walking around with wounds like that. They have to be dead.”

“They’re zombies,” Henry whispered.

“What?” Bill asked.

“He said they’re zombies,” Becca answered for her brother. “Henry was always into Dawn of the Dead and that kind of shit.”

Bill said, “Quiet down, I think they heard us. They’re coming this way.”

“Alright,” Dells started. “Let’s move then before they reach the doors. Remember to shot for the head. Becca watch your brother.”

“I can fight too.”

He glared at her.

“Okay, okay.”

Dells lead the way as the three men moved onto the faded grass of the station’s yard. At once, the three jerking forms lumbered their way. Dells didn’t hesitate this time and Vinnie’s head was pierced by his first shot. Fran Tucker went down next. It took Mickey three tries, but the third moaning killer took a head shot.

“While we’re out here, let’s get my one of the sheriff trucks and-”

But his words got cut short when Father Garcia rounded the corner of the building and grabbed Bill’s shoulder. Bill began to scream, but there was nothing they could do to stop priest’s teeth from tearing a huge chunk out of Bill’s jugular.

“Holy hell!” Dells yelled and raced forward and kicked the priest away. But the damage had been done. “Get him inside now!” he yelled before putting a bullet through Garcia’s skull.

Becca opened the door and helped Mickey get Bill inside.

Dells was just about to join them when he saw that the shots had drawn others. Nearly a dozen gruesome forms headed their way. “How could this happen so fast,” he whispered.

“Sheriff, come on!” Becca frantic form screamed at him.

He wanted to stay and put these poor folks out of their misery, but realized that Bill could become a real danger quickly so he hurried into the station and slammed the door behind him.

A Lock Down, Bite Down continues next Saturday!

You can find out more about the Eternal Aftermath here!

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Two Guns, No Clue

Two Guns, No Clue

Here is a fun short Video that my friends and I  made last weekend

Here is the video

Enjoy

Click here for the laughs

For More Laughs from The Daily Discord Crew Click here!

Dionysus Sensual

Who is to say No

When our Libido tells us to Go

Chaos is our Path

We do not need to do the Math

In this life there are many Paths that can lead us to Joy

No matter how much the muggles seek to Annoy

One of the best is certainly Sex

Always wondering who might be Next

Caress, cuddle, and Touch

As humans we want all this so Much

So tonight Dionysus shine you love down on Us

Whether we are with our true love or the person we just met on the Bus

With intercourse we become one with You

It is one thing we do not need to be trained how to Do

We do not always need something to Gain

To want to reach a higher Plane

So bless us as both lovers and horn dogs this Night

And together we will bask in your Delight

 
Discover how Heroes use the Mystic Archetypes to fight Evil Here!

Base Jumpers Part III

The questions and paperwork hadn’t ended that night, but had continued into the next day. He and Erin had been put up by an unknown, but not unguessed at benefactor in the High Valley Hotel. Now he was down at the station wading through another series of questions.

Fosters sat in on the interviews. As always his presence made him shudder inwardly. Dak knew that Fosters had died long ago and even as Mace had done for a year, his former coworker was the host for a new Jumper. Dak thought he could tell a few differences between Mace’s and this new Jumper’s mannerisms, but the rest of the precinct was certainly oblivious, with the exception of Matthews.

Matthews was to only other non-jumper that worked for the Skinjobs. He wasn’t as willing as Dak, but since the only other option would be him getting Jumped, he was able to abide.

Dak brought the younger man along for the ride. He was heading to a Market arms dealer who owed him a favor. They were going to try to chance a lead on this the unknown blaster model when Erin called.

Terror ruled her voice. “Dak, you have to help me. I went back to the apartment to get a few things. I thought it would be safe. I was so wrong. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Matthews was already radioing in a call for officers to head that way. “Erin where are you now?”                                                                    

“I’m hiding. It’s the same one Dak. He looks the same. I have to go. I can’t talk. He’ll hear me.”

The line went dead. Dak had already changed his route and raced through the crowded streets of New Cluster back to his apartment.

They arrived in record time and they had only clipped one other auto and maybe a biker. Guns were drawn long before they reached his floor. The doors opened onto death. At least one Enforcer had already met his doom. His headless form had painted the hall in blood and bone. The second officer had only made it a few feet further. He laid on his side against the wall his whole middle gone.

Matthews eyes went wide and that’s when the shooting began. It was the same big blaster as before. Matthews was hit in the first volley and went down. He was still screaming, so Dak hoped he would live. He spread open the width setting on his gun, until it would spread the beam into a cone. This weakened the effects, but made it hard to miss anything within the walls of his quickly deteriorating apartment. He dived forward onto his stomach just as the killer came into view. 

It was the same man as before.

He pointed the giant blaster, but Dak got the shot off first. The cone hit him. The bald man growled trying to fight off the effects. He stumbled back a step and the gun went off, the explosive blast only missing Dak’s head by inches.  Dak fired again, this time his opponent went down.

Much as before, he began to weep and melt, creating a second foul stain in Dak’s living room. Erin dashed into the room, for a moment she looked unsure, but raced toward him. “I was so scared, Dak.”

He hugged her quickly, but then said, “Matthews is down.

It could have been worse. He had been hit through a wall and the shot to his arm wouldn’t cost him his limb if only barely.

He sighed. More paperwork and interviews would take up the rest of the day and he wasn’t an inch closer to finding out who was behind this.

                                                         *        *        *

Eventually, he was allowed to go. Refusing an armed escort he and Erin left the station. Even the short walk to his ride left him seeing eyes everywhere. New Cluster raised around them gray and bleak. Everything was concrete and trash. The only thing feeling real was the woman’s hand in his, even though he knew part of Erin was fake too.

A meeting with the Doctor proved difficult to arrange. Erin burned through favors, but he agreed to meet them at midnight. Base Jumper stayed on alert, and the Doctor refused to met them there, instead picking a location with an industrial address. It turned out to be some sort of chemical plant. The smells drifting out of the rusty ash gray building let him know that he didn’t want to be there, long before he reached the side entrance.

A few workers moved around and perhaps some others who were guards. One these men, who looked big enough to eat Erin for lunch, took them to some offices lining the back of the plant. Stained iron cauldrons held bubbling mixtures of questionable nature. They smoked and stank horribly leaving a rusted residue on the tongue.

The room looked simple. Old terminals mixed with new. Forms were held in plastic cubbies along one wall. Reports and folders were spread out over a worn desk before him. Maxwell looked much as before. White suit. Red scarf around his pale neck. For this meeting they had traded Mace for two even huger guys, which left Dak wondering where this Doctor found such Neanderthals? Also with him was a girl way to young to be wearing such a short scarlet dress. She sat on another chair, regarding them coldly. He shuddered, not caring to speculate whether Maxwell was using his boyish looks to date some impressionable teen or if some equally perverted Jumper liked to play little girlie.

“Since you called for this emergency meeting, why don’t you begin Mr. Dak?”

“As you know, Erin and I have found ourselves within this assassin’s sights twice now. I have also killed him twice, although strangely. I seem to be the next on his list, so the way I figure it, you can either tell me all you can to help or you’ll be down two …agents.”

He went over what had happened and let Erin fill in a few of the gaps. “I’ve heard of some speculation down these lines, but have never seen such a thing myself. This Grafter is not only gifted but also innovative. It must have a trigger that somehow causes the cells to collapse and break apart. When you stunned it, this enacted this response. No one will ever question this man. Then he is cloned to begin again.”

“But not with the same consciousness?”

“Well, yes and no. If someone had the proper training or desire before the Jump the new body could contain that same desire.”

“It would be either fool or fanatic.” Erin said joining the conversation. “Although it would seem the same to us, the original person is dead and nothing changes that fact.”

“You mean you can make new people. Clones that don’t even need to be Jumped into?”

The young girl laughed. “That was what we learned to first. It was learning how to Jump which was difficult.” So she was a Jumper. This left Dak somewhat relived. He hated pedophiles.

“So is this guy is a fanatic-“

”Or somehow tricked into thinking his incarnations will really be him,” Erin quickly added.

Dak looked at her for a moment. “Then these people, whoever they are, could just make new clones of this killer until the lights go out.”

“It’s not as simple as that, but with enough resources you are essentially correct. Although the reason they can only send one at once is without the proper training most men go completely mad with any exposure to themselves.”

“The way I see it, this is really your problem. I or maybe Erin just happened to be next on the menu. So it’s in your best interested to make sure this thing doesn’t get any farther than us.”

“Of course. I value all of my employees.”

“Good. I’m glad we are on the same screen. Now I think it’s the time where you tell everything that you know that could possibly help me take this bastard out…. permanently.” 

Continued Next Week 

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Base Jumper Part II

They shared a quiet ride home. Dak’s mind was full of questions, but Erin’s mood remained taciturn. It wasn’t until they were almost back to their small apartment that she asked, “You aren’t upset that I dragged you into things.

“Being with you was my choice. I knew what I was getting into when I chose to date a Gender-Jumper.”

“Did you? I think you thought of it as a sexual choice, the thing that blazed your passions higher than anything else ever could.”

Only the hum of the auto interrupted the silence as they pulled into the underground garage. It was a dark greasy place, but the complex tried to keep it secure.

“Erin,” he started slowly. “None of that matters now. I love you and it’s just that simple. If this means I have to do a little to help the Jumper community, then so be it. You know I personally don’t think Jumping should be illegal and I certainly would never want anything to happen to you. I would lay down my life to protect you.”

“Really?” Her voice was barely a whisper as she turned to face him. Tears formed in the sides of her large green eyes.

“Of course.”

She rushed into his arms and soon it was all they could do to postpone their appetites until they could make it to their floor.

As soon as they left the lift, he knew something was wrong. He moved Erin to the side of the corridor. “What’s the matter?”

“It looks like our door’s open.” Moving closer, he found that it wasn’t just open; it had been broken open. He used one hand to keep Erin back, while the other filled with his Flashpistol. Moving into the apartment, he hadn’t made it five feet before heavy blasts broke out and plaster began to fill the air with choking dust. Only a quick drop to the floor had saved his life. Now however, the walls over his head were being ripped away as some serious weaponry continued its assault.

Remaining low, he rolled into the bedroom on his right. He was almost as surprised as when the bullets had broken out, when Erin dove in right behind him. The hitman shifted his attacks to the walls of their room, which began to rain down on them, whitening everything as more chalky powder covered the room.

“I told you to stay in the hall!”

“Screw that. Give me a weapon Dak!”

“I got something better,” he said with a grin and started for the closet. Seconds stretched into years, as he fumbled with an old brown suitcase. The walls continued to blast and splinter.

His hand came away with a silver object the size of a dinner plate. In its center was a red panel. Dak’s fingers danced over a small set of controls. Looking up he saw that the gunfire had created a large hole just over them. After punching a few more buttons, he reached back and flung the device through the hole.

“Get down,” he yelled as he flung himself over Erin’s slight form. Her soft body cushioned him nicely.

A bright red flash blinded them for less than a second. His teeth throbbed for a moment, but they were spared any farther effects.

Erin sat up, once he let her, and tried to brush the dust off her black dress. It was not working. “Can I have a gun now?”

“I don’t think you’ll need one,” he said, while he helped her up.

“What was that thing?” She asked. Her heels crunched the fragments of plaster as she followed him into the hall.

“Something I picked up on a whim from the Market. It called a Newt, which is short for Neutralizer I think, and it creates a large stun blast. I’ve had it for years. This is the first time I have ever used it in my own home.”

Standing over the, would be, assassin, they discovered that the device had succeeded in its assigned task and he was quite unconscious. The figure was tall, ugly, and bald. His wore a tight gray uniform of common make. Besides his oversized and brutal continence, the only odd thing about him was his tech. He had a few small items which Erin looked over. Meanwhile, Dak took up his blaster. It was huge and of a make he had never seen. The barrel was 20 millimeter wide and it had a clip the size of his forearm. How the man got it into the building was a mystery.

Suddenly a sizzling sound reached his ears. Suspecting some type of bomb, he was prepared to flee, but what his eyes fell upon did just the opposite and glued him in place. The man’s body was becoming bloated. Skin opened and leaked fluids, which smelt worse than a decaying body that had been left in open sewer.

Erin had found her way into his arms and he hugged her tightly as the assassin continued to dissolve into a foul puddle of wet cells.

“Erin is this guy a Jumper?”

“I’m not sure,” she said pressing against him. “I’ve never heard about anything like this. Maybe the Doctor would know.”

“Well it’s too late to see him tonight.” The sounds of Enforcer boots could now be heard sprinting down their hallway. “I’m going to have some explaining to do. Let me do all the talking.”

“Okay,” she said giving him a quick kiss. “After all I am just your innocent little girlfriend.” When she batted her eyes, it was all he could do to keep from Laughing. 

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