“We won’t go hungry, no not tonight,”

“Flesh is so tender you don’t need a knife.”

“Eating yer buddies.”

Eating Your Buddies

The group sung as one, except for Pitch, who led them quickly through the night. Talon had dropped back as far as Mucci would let him. He had given Pitch the basic instructions and the man knew the way.

The night came alive around him as the cannibals continued their eerie chant. Shadows clung to the refuse that lined the road, looking like fields of dead bodies. The taste of the meat bubbled up into his throat, staining his lips, bringing back what he had done. He could feel it. It clung against the side of his stomach like a solid lump putrefying his insides. He knew he was tainted, but he couldn’t worry about that now, he had to see this through.

They were nearing the bridge. In the distance, the lights of the other side of the city shined like the stars the smog denied.

“Keep an eye on him,” Pitch hissed back to Mucci, and then began to jog under the bridge. A light could now be seen on the far side. ”Rick, is that you?” He called out.

Talon knew he had to act fast. “Hey look out,” he said to Mucci, grabbing his arm.”

“What the hell?”

“The guy I pushed over the ledge, I saw him. The fall didn’t take him out.” Without waiting for a reply, Talon took off back the way they had come. Mucci, uncertain at first, followed. As soon as they had reached thicker shadows, Talon spun around and punched Mucci in the nose. The young man wasn’t expecting such a sudden turn, and the fist broke Mucci’s nose in an explosion of blood.

Talon Fights Back

While Mucci stumbled back, Talon’s left hand grabbed the bat and his right hand punched him again. Grunting, Mucci released the bat. The blow caused him to trip over a rock and he went crashing down onto his back. Talon choked up the bat, like he was going to head in to finish the job, but that was when a helicopter floodlight began to illuminate under the bridge. A garbled voice started shouting orders and then moments later gunfire rang out.

“Good luck dumb ass,” he yelled back at the battered punk and began to sprint out of there. “And thank you, Brian Whitney; sorry about the hassle they’ll be putting you through after all this.” That guy must have been loaded, Talon thought to himself. If the reported kidnapping brought out Helicopter support, Talon must have picked the right guy to call in a false report with. The cops wouldn’t find Brian there, but they had found enough to make sure the trip wasn’t a waste and even if any of Pitch’s crew survived the encounter, he doubted he would be seeing them for a while.

He had almost made it back to one of the main roads, when a large figure blocked his path.

At first Talon thought it was some random dreg or maybe a cop who had moved around to cut them off, but then he saw the glint of the helicopter lights shining off glasses. It was Rick-the-dick. The man could barely stand without swaying and blood dripped from the middle finger of his disfigured left arm, slowly creating a muddy black pool where it mixed with the sand below.

Rik The Dik

“You narcing bastard. Can you comprehend what you have done?”

“Rid the world of a bunch of freaks is what I’m thinking.”

With a roar, Rick rushed forward swinging his nun-chucks. Talon still had the bat and used it to block the attack. Moving faster, his back swing took Rick in the temple with a loud crack.

Talon brought the bat behind his shoulder, like he was waiting for a pitch. Rick came in and he swung the bat. It connected with the chucks and sent them flying into the dead bushes.

Rick called out, “I’ll kill you for ruining everything,” and leapt forward. His long lanky arms got past the bat and he began to clutch and pull at him. Before Talon knew what was happening, long teeth had buried themselves into the flesh of his shoulder. His cried out in pain as the jagged teeth quickly tore through his tie shirt.

Dropping the bat, his hand began to fumble into his back pocket. Pulling out the steak knife, he stabbed it between two of Rick’s ribs. The man gasped out and stumbled away, taking the knife with him. “Try to eat me will you,” Talon spat at him while clutching his bleeding shoulder. “You are the one who is going to get carved like a steak.”

After yanking out the knife, Rick came at him again, but Talon snatched up the bat and swung into him before Rick could use the small blade. There was a resounding crack as the tip of the bat broke Rick jaw. He tumbled off of the path with a wet grown.

Talon was going to make sure he finished what he started this time. Leaving a vengeful Rick-the-dick alive wouldn’t be wise. Then a sound stopped him.

Mutt Hounds

A low growling could be heard coming from the dry bushes. Another quickly followed it, then a third. Thin shadows created finger wide tiger strips on the circling pack. Rez-dogs, loose packs that preyed on the unlucky and alone. They scented blood and were more than willing to prey on the wounded.

“He’s all yours boys.” Talon muttered, as he slowly retreated holding the bat in front of him.

Rick reached out a pleading hand and moaned.

“Sorry, I guess it is your turn to fed the hungry mouths. Only I think this meal won’t be over as quickly.” The sounds on Rick’s hopeless cries would haunt him for months. Nearly as long as it would take for him to get the taste of human flesh from returning to him when it was least needed. A thousand beers couldn’t drown it. Over time it faded, but his friends always wondered why a big guy like him would suddenly become a vegetarian and they would never know.

Talon

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New Cluster

Saving Money (Part II)

Moving through the stygian night, he followed the lanky form of Rick-the-dick. They were passing through the slums of southern New Cluster, which were some of the worse parts of the city and of course where they all lived.

Streetlights, that hadn’t worked for a decade, stabbed the earth like black daggers. Overhead, the smog obfuscated any hint of the stars he knew lurked above. Leaving the major streets, Rick weaved through the alleys. These grimy streets had gone from being thoroughfares to hard-bitten squats for all manner of dregs.

Normally, Talon would be put off entering these suspect areas, but the tall imposing figure of Rick-the-dick kept the others at bay. Gazing left and right, he saw gangs of dregs. Many eyed them as potential prey, but they had chosen to keep their distance so far.

“These places are too crowded,” Rick hissed back at him. Talon also thought that these folk probably did something with their dead, other than let PRs drag them away, but he kept his opinions to himself.

The pair moved away from the throbbing seas of dregs and headed for the canals. These canals were dryer than a bucket of sand left in the desert and were now just crumbling monuments to a time when rivers still moved across this part of the city, unless you counted the garbage-choked flashfloods that ripped through New Custer in the spring. These were long gone now, and the canal loomed before them like a dark scar cut into the Earth.

People still malingered here and there, for it was rare to find any sort of isolation within the city limits. They moved closer to the canal. A walkway ran along it, which had once been part of a recreation program, but due to the smog, long gone were the days when one could exercise outside. Such things now belonged only to those rich enough to afford the indoor gyms, or people like him that worked off any nutrition he received through drudgery.

A bridge formed a black arch, which blocked half of the northern city’s lights and created a wide shadow across the trail. Rick headed for it. Talon hesitated at the lip of darkness. “Come on you wuss,” Rick ordered. Normally Talon wouldn’t have gone anywhere near places like this, but supposed that they were the predators now.

To his right, only a thin railing kept path traffic from tumbling into the canal bed far below. To his left, the darkness thickened where the bridge continued into a narrow space between the road and the dirt below. Rick had some sort of light and was shining it into these recesses. Talon hurried closer to the light. Looking back at him, the grim form of Rick nodded, the light reflecting off his archaic glasses. He motioned with his head and Talon saw a tangled sleeping form. The man was so filthy, he nearly camouflaged himself into the dirt below.

“Is he dead?” Talon whispered.

Rick’s response was to kick the man in the shin while he removed a pair of nun-chucks. The man groaned, but made no move to retaliate or even awaken.

“He’s still alive, Rick.”

“That’s a situation which can be easily rectified.” Then with a snarl, Rick tore the old man from his bedding and violently dragged him to the edge of the dirt.

Screaming began and ended quickly, when Rick laid the nun-chucks into the old dreg. Talon couldn’t move as the sick crunches filled the air. Rick beat on him again and again, until there was no doubt that the old man was dead. Then crouching over his victim, Rick began to search the man in the faint hope that he might possess something valuable.

They were right next to the rail that separated them from the long drop into the rocky canal. Without really planning to, Talon rushed forward and gave Rick-the-dick a mighty shove. Rick’s eyes grew wide, more with anger than fear, and he clutched at Talon as his body balanced precariously on the railing. Fingers tore strips of hair from Talon’s mohawk, but with a grunt, Talon grabbed the base of Rick’s boots and upended him backwards over the railing. Rick didn’t even bother to scream when his body plummeted into the debris-choked canal.

Another person might have just fled back to is home and hoped for the best, but Talon knew what sort of end that choice would led him to eventually. He had different ideas.

Learn more about New Cluster and its Heroes here!!!

In Charge of My Own Demise Part V

Mace’s code 10 was taking longer than Dak would have hoped and soon he was forced to distract Lacy Law. Fortunately this wasn’t overly difficult, other than the keeping her icy hands off of him part. Dak just hoped that Erin wouldn’t be leading the way and find Lacy practically sitting on his lap as she was.

When the door to the hotel room was finally kicked open, Dak lunched to his feet, which lunched Lacy onto her ass. After emitting a very undignified chirp when she landed, Lacy suddenly sprung into action.

Lucy

“Come on Dak,” she yelled while delivering a karate kick to a Jumper’s face. The man went flying backwards into a wall, his face an angry smear. That would be enough damage to send that boy back to the Grafter’s cloning vats.

Since she was watching, he was forced to stun one of his own allies. When her kick took out another masked Jumper, Dak realized that his remaining allies were dwindling. He grabbed one of the Jumpers by his jacket and together they slammed into a wall. Dak winked at the man, then used his Flashgun to send a stunning beam of yellow energy into Lucy’s back. She fainted before she could turn, but he would have just blamed it on the Jumper anyway. 

Mace

When freed, Mace shook his hand. “I guess I finally owe you one.”

“After helping me with Erin you are more than even.”

“Or maybe you’re going to owe me again,” Mace said, as a smile spread over his bruised face. With his hand his gestured to two limp bodies that were being dragged into the room.

“What is this?”

“We can’t leave you looking like a incompetent can we.” His hand patted the side of Dak’s face. When he saw Dak’s look, it quickly jerked away. “These two Jumpers have broken a few of our laws. They’ll take the rap on your side of the law as their punishment.”

He was walking over to the unconscious Lacy as he spoke. “That will help your story, get you your first big Jumper bust, and get rib of these two dregs all in one move.”

“If I didn’t know better, I might think you set this all up.” Mace only smiled. “Hey don’t mess with her,” Dak started but it was already too late. Mace had found a small dagger somewhere and stabbed it into Lacy’s leg. It drew more sparks than blood. 

“Just as I thought, she has some type of cyber legs. I’d watch out for this one Dak.”

“You can count on it. Now, since you are still basking in the glow of my rescue, I wanted to talk to you about Matthews. He needs to be on the task force. I also think…”

                                               *        *        *

Erin was tapping her long pink nails against the glass table. Long blonde locks hid most of her face and only the side of her cute nose and her cherry lipped pout could be seen. “Okay what is it?”

Erin

She picked up a nail file without looking at him. “Mace told me you were getting pretty close to that reporter chippee.”

“Not as close as he was.” He couldn’t help but grin.

Turning towards him at last. “Mace doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Neither do I.” Her eyes went big, he let his words linger for a moment, “I have a lover.”

She softened. “I could see why that bionic bitch would be interested, but she needs to stay away from my man.”

“I wish she would, but I have a feeling that my new job is just going to be making things more complicated and difficult.”

She finally moved close enough for him to hold her. “Doctor Max knows what he’s doing. If he thinks this Task Force is a good thing with you at its helm, it probably is.”

“Better me than someone else, but it still is putting the flame on high.”

“You just have to make sure you don’t get set up.”

“Or that you don’t get dragged into things.”

That quieted her and she shivered against him. In the background the news was coming on. He had wanted to hear how they would cover the event, but when he heard Lacy Law’s voice and saw her cold piercing eyes, he turned the vid off.

Skinjumpers

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A Shameless Plug or Jack Primus faces the Eternal Aftermath, and with the help of Skinjumpers, fights Dalsala Den

Collapsing Shack Arizona: This week, in a hope to increase book sales, I have taken it upon myself to interview America’s newest hero as he takes on his most difficult challenge yet.

When I caught up to him, Jack Primus put down his brain splattered sledge hammer just long enough to say, “I hope you’re all getting a kick out of this. I have to face the villains from not just my world, but three others as well; just to help Michael D. Griffiths make some books sales. It might sound good for the author, but being forced to fight cyberpunk undead Xemmoni that come from an evil filled planet of high magic really sucks when you are on this side of the pages.”

Jack With an Axe

When I pointed out that selling more copies might mean he would get to be in more books, Jack said, “Hell, I’m already in a few books, loads of artwork, and a weekly blog, but what good does it do me? Oooo I get to get beat up more often.”

When the swarms of zombies that surrounded him grew closer, he thrust an axe into my hands and said, “I’m not even from a world of zombies. I hate zombies, they remind me of my first girlfriend. But now I’m stuck fighting them just to help promote my author’s Zombie Apocalypse series, Eternal Aftermath. Does he care that I’m not even in that series…? No!”

Zombie March

After we cut down enough zombies to give ourselves some breathing room for a moment, I asked him about the allies that he fought side by side with. “These Skinjumpers are the only silver lining to this whole mess, but these high tech cloned heroes brought their own cyber powered villains with them. Do you know how much it blows hitting some guy with a sledge hammer who you think is just a normal dude, but then find out he’s made of solid metal. My fingers are still numb from the last impact. And if you’ve never been hit by a laser, let me tell you something, IT REALLY SUCKS! I almost rather be bit by a zombie. Yeah, if it wasn’t for that whole plague thing. By the way, looks like you were bit. Sorry fella, but I guess I’ll be your last interview.”

I was starting to fell a little light headed, but managed to spit out a question about Dalsala Den. “Yeah, that high level magic using a-hole is the worst of the lot. I thought I had things bad on my world. Shit, I’d rather fight Vile Darken than that guy. I had a group of cops here helping me, but he turned half on them into solid ice and the other half became… crawdads. He says he wants to take over this planet. Well line up scum bag. I wish there was some way I could just let them fight against each other… and… kill… themselves… off. Hey, let’s light that trash on fire and use the smokescreen to go grab ourselves a few ales.”

Even though I was starting to bleed from my eye sockets, I agreed as long as the first round and the cheese steaks were on him.

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In Charge of My Demise Part III

He was surprised how easily the BS flowed from his mouth. Dak knew what the people wanted to hear and he figured if he promised them things along those lines, they would be kept as happy as he could expect.

Maybe being a politician wasn’t so hard, he laughed to himself. 

He finished with a quick retelling of his recent encounter with the series of cloned assassins. The press ate it up. Action and blood sent their fingers rapidly typing over their glowing Personals.

Things hadn’t stay that easy for long. As he expected, he couldn’t escape without a question session. The first dozen or so he fought off with comments about learning more about the perpetrator and other such vague garbage, then a reporter whose face was vaguely known to him broke in.

She was tall enough to be seen over most of her fellows and about a hundred miles from unattractive. Long auburn hair rolled past her narrow, perfectly painted face. Her eyes would have ruined it for him. Where Erin’s were trusting and full of hope, this woman’s were made of gray ice, holding only contempt.

“Hello captain, Lacy Law here,” her terse voice chirped. “What you have said is all very well and good, but what about real changes. Others have spoken out on such ideas as stricter ID enforcement and even setting up checkpoints. We know those Bodyjumpers prefer to possess younger better looking bodies. It has been suggested that such body types receive extra scrutiny.”

“You yourself fit that profile. Would you be pleased to have this additional limits on your freedoms?”

She couldn’t quite keep the red out of her cheeks at the backhanded complement, but quickly recovered. “In order to help keep this dangerous underground behind bars, certainly.”

“It still makes me wonder who you’d be after. The little old lady that had enough money to Jump into a younger body and is just out buying her bread or the trained assassins like the man who attacked me or the crew that gunned down the former Mayor hopeful, Homes. Let me tell you from personal knowledge that man that came after me wasn’t pretty. All I think such policies would do is make it a crime to be attractive. Is this the type of world you would want to live in?”

“Personally, I would expect them both to be locked up. Isn’t that the law Captain Dak or does the man in charge of this new task force think we should be lenient on these lesser Jumpers just because they haven’t used their changes to hurt anyone yet?”

Choosing his words carefully, he said, “As a Public Enforcer officer I have pledged myself to uphold the law. I think you can count on my continued vigilance on this issue. If the amount of crime committed by Jumpers doesn’t decrease over the next year I will hand in my resignation voluntarily.”

Nodding, this finally seemed to satisfy her and he was able to get through the rest of the questions without suffering anything worse.

His office was still in transition and this became a great excuse to go get some air. He ran into Matthews on the way out the building. “You okay Dak? You look a little pale.”

“It all comes with the new position I guess. Can’t say I like talking to the press.” He ran a hand over his brow. “I wonder if I’ll be able to get used to it.”

Matthews brightened. “Oh yeah, congrats on the new position. I guess it will be Captain Dak now.”

“What would you feel about being the first man I hire on?” 

Matthews took a step back. Since he was the only other non-clone working for the Jumpers, Dak figured he would be a natural choice. “I’ll have to ask,” Matthews answered strangely. He soon departed a stiffly and Dak couldn’t help but wonder which Jumper might be holding Matthew’s strings. Shaking his head, he thought he might have the answer. He only hoped he was wrong.

*        *       *

The scent of stale smog burned his noise. Trash blew like city leaves. Even near the PE building bums and dregs fought for a hand out. His vehicle was secured below, but Dak felt like walking. He passed the taverns that most of the PE grunts frequented.

He felt less a part of them than ever. What was he a part of?

Dak really wasn’t a big one for drinking before sundown, but he felt he needed one. He headed into a nicer establishment hoping that he would find it empty. He was right. The sparse patrons lurked in dark corners huddled over tables. Fine suits mixed with low cut dresses. Conversations ran from afternoon affairs to cooperate backstabbing. Ignoring these, he headed over to the reflective plastic bar.

Massaging his temples, he looked down, while he waited for a hopper. “Hard day captain,” it was a voice that had already been haunting him. Opening his eyes, he saw that Lacy Law had helped herself into the adjacent barstool. “Having a drink before two pm. I see that he are off to a great start hunting down the Jumpers.”

Turning towards his hopper, he took a long pull before saying. “I was supposed to meet a contact here that had a list of known Jumpers, but with a Posher Cleb like yourself around here, he probably won’t show.”

She looked around uncertain. “You aren’t serious?”

“If you had only shown up ten minute’s later you might have had a big scoop.”

She waited until he was looking her way to cross her trim legs. Her gray business skirt did little to hide her looks. Years of police work left him wondering if she was hooked on some type of speed or if it was some fascist exercise routine that kept her body so tight.

            “Perhaps you’ll let me take you out to dinner tonight and you can tell me all about it.” Her manicured nails lightly traced his hand. “You fought back well today. Most men crumble when I go up against them.”

“That must make you very proud,” he said while moving his hand away.

“So what about dinner? No one needs to know.” Leaned forward, exposed more of her toned body.

Staring for a long moment, he then slammed the rest of his beer. “No thanks, I think I’m going to be putting in long hours for quite a while. Her intake of breath was so loud that many of the patrons turned to watch, as he turned his back to her and existed back into the faded sunlight.

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Erin pulled the amber tie out of her golden waterfall of hair, as soon as she heard him open the door. He saw her cute backside, while she quickly tossed her apron into the closet. Like usual, she wore very little underneath. The apartment gleamed. She rushed over to him before he had even tossed off his jacket. The freshly opened hopper that she held was wider than her delicate wrist. Red nailed fingers parted to hand him his beer, while a smile spread over the most beautiful face in the world.

“You’re home early. I was trying to make things nice for you.”

“Erin, you don’t have to work so hard.”

Suddenly shy, her green eyes found the sparkling floor. “It’s just…since you found out that I work for the Jumpers I…”

Moving forward, he took her trembling form into his arms. “You think you have to prove what a perfect woman you are? I already thought you were perfect. The fact that you work with your own kind doesn’t change anything.” His face was graced with the kind of smile that only she could bring him. “Besides the extra money is nice.”

She slapped him playfully, but then kissed his lips. Holding her close, he didn’t hurry.

She came up for air and wanted to take it further, but he moved back. “Erin we have to talk.”

“That is usually what girls say.” Erin played the role of the perfect female the way only a man could, for Erin wasn’t only a Jumper, she was a Genderjumper as well. Sometimes in the dead of night Dak wondered over his choices, but it was a sick world out there and she was his only light, but now he was somehow in charge of eliminating her kind.

With a sigh, he explained his assignment. A few gasps and startled expressions later, he had finished describing his new position.

“If Bly was for it, then I guess it must be a good thing,” She said, hesitation tainting her voice.

“Yeah, but what about the Mayor. He knows about you…us. Jumpers are his pet project. This will be like a slap in the face.”

“I could think of no one’s face I would rather slap.”

                                               *        *        *

“Yeah, it’s a pretty nice office.” he had to agree. Dak’s eyes focused on the grimy window. Sure there wasn’t much of a view, there rarely was in New Cluster, but Dak had never had an office with a window before.

Fesse wore the closest thing to a smile his face could manage. “Nothing too good for the new man in charge of keeping the press, the mayor, and everyone else off my back when it comes to this Bodyjumper mess.” Patting him on the shoulder, he continued, “I’ll have them move your desk up here before lunch. You’ll not be needing it this morning anyway.”

“Why is that?”

“Because your first press conference starts in an hour.”

“I’m not sure if this is going to work Fesse. I-”

”Make it work,” his voice was raised, “or I’ll send you back to being a beat cop in Dreg Park.” The door slammed behind him, creating a haze of dust in the empty room. Dak watched the motes of dirt dance through the narrow squares of yellow light before finally heading down to the Public Enforcer pressroom.

Travel Deeper into the World of Skinjumpers Here!

 

In Charge of My Demise

Mopping the lingering sweat off his brow, Dak entered the Deputy Chief’s office. Fesse’s wide face scowled. It might have bothered Dak if that was not the only look that he had ever seen there. It surprised him to see Fosters in the room with his supervisor, even though Dak knew that the real Fosters had died years ago.

The man who examined him with Fosters’ gray eyes was named Bly and he was a Skinjumper; a man whose consciousness had been put into the cloned form of Fosters. The Jumpers were more powerful that most realized and Dak should know, he was dating one of them.

Dak, like Fosters, had become a man on the inside—an agent for the Skinjumpers, only he himself had never Jumped. It was his sweet Erin who had drawn him in.

“Have a seat Dak.” He did, and then lit up a smoke. The silence stretched. 

“That was some job you did taking out those Grafters Dak. The idea that someone could clone an assassin and send him after the public again and again,” Fesse rubbed his forehead. “Let’s just say it made waves.”

“They don’t care that it targeted mostly just me?” he lied.

“This isn’t the only story Dak. These nutjob clones are big news. Nothing has been the same since those damned Grafters learned how to place a person’s consciousness into any type of clone they wanted. The world is full of the beautiful people and freaks. How can you even be sure you’re talking to?” For once he refused to meet his eye. “And you know how the damn Mayor feels about these Bodyjumpers. He has been putting a lot of pressure on our department.”

Dak’s mouth went dry. Jumping was a serious offence that gained one enough jail time to forget who you were. If Fesse were to ever find out he was dating a Jumper…

“What does this have to do with me?” He exhaled sending jags of smoke coiling through the triangles of sunlight.

Fosters/Bly spoke up. The young punk did the grouchy jaded cop thing almost too well. “Don’t be an idiot, Dak. You’re part of this. The press loves you.”

“For about another twenty minutes.”

Fesse took over. “That’s why we have to strike now and keep these guys off our backs. I want to start up a Jumper Task Force. And I want you to be its Captain.”

Dak almost swallowed the smoke.

Fosters/Bly was quick to add, “Listen it was a natural choice. When I heard about this, I knew you were the only man for the job. You’re young enough and have enough charisma to keep the press at-”

”But if you’re trying to head off the Mayor, I think we should try to remember that I’m not his favorite guy.”

Fosters shell spoke Bly’s words. “Don’t argue. I’m sure as hell not going to do it. Who else do you think is qualified? Matthews is just a kid and what, would you rather see Peterman doing it.”

Dak wasn’t a fool. He had to take the post if only to keep someone else from taking it.

Still how could he be in charge of hunting down his own woman?

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Base Jumper, Epilog

He awoke from a half slumber to find a wet and mostly naked Erin standing before him. She was still dripping and she gave him a long hung. No scar from any wound marred her. If anything she was more perfect than before.

They kissed.

“Still as sweet as always,” Mace commented as he followed her into the room.

          Pulling away, Dak moved to shake the young PR’s hand. “You really came through in a pinch. It’s good to know you have my back.”

Pulling away with some distaste. “Well, Erin’s anyway.” 

“As far as I am concerned that’s more important.” This brought forth a nod from him and a hug from his girlfriend.

“Until next time,” he said taking Erin under his arm. On a whim he took the big blaster with him as he passed through the door. Mace chuckled to himself as he lit up a smoke.

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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!

 

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 

Find out more about New Cluster and Skinjumpers Here!

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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