Escape from Endeavor by Daniel A. Jones
***
Daemon, Angelica, and Sara had relaxed while they waited for Jim to arrive. Mystique was the only one who seemed the least concerned Jim might not be as friendly as Sara claimed. She was standing near a tree at the edge of the clearing. Her pack was with the others but she saw no reason to be out in the open, just in case.
Daemon was confident his senses would warn him if Jim decided to attack. What he didn’t expect was for Jim to be so nonchalant about the attack that he didn’t trigger Daemon’s senses until it was too late. He felt the attack coming as the grenades were launched. He barely had time to yell a warning before they detonated in and around the camp.
Angelica and Sara had been sitting down when the grenades hit. Neither of them had a chance: The combination of blinding flash and hypersonic scream left them blindly rolling on the ground, covering their ears. Daemon didn’t fare much better. He’d gotten to his feet before the explosions so he was stumbling around blinded by the flash and unable to escape the noise. Mystique for all her caution was only able to cover her eyes to keep from being blinded but the noise was deafening.
Jim brought the skimmer in right behind the grenades. The landing was hard but he barely registered it in his armor. He jumped out to survey the area. He saw Sara and some other girl lying in the camp. A large guy was stumbling toward him, blood leaking from his ears and nose. Jim could tell he was still mostly blind and deaf from the grenades so he waited, thinking he’d enjoy a little work out.
Daemon felt more than saw Jim land and knew he had to stop him before he could hurt Angelica. He could barely see Jim’s armored form but if he could get a grip on him he was sure he would be able to stop Jim.
Jim sidestepped Daemon’s reckless charge and kicked him in the chest, sending him flying backward. The servos and hydraulics in the armor increased his strength well above normal human maximums. The kick would have crushed the chest of a smaller man.
Daemon started climbing back to his feet, determined not to give up.
Jim was pleasantly surprised to see the man getting back up. He took two quick steps toward Daemon and drove the toe of his boot deep into Daemon’s side.
Daemon stopped thinking, the familiar red haze fell over his eyes and the beast took over the fight. The beast didn’t care how hurt Daemon was, it only wanted to hurt Jim.
Jim was watching as Daemon rolled away, coughing up blood. He felt as much as saw the change come over Daemon and knew something was wrong. Daemon wasn’t staying down. He got up faster and more sure of himself this time. Jim didn’t know how, but he did know it was time to stop playing around. Daemon was on his feet and charging Jim again but this time there was no sign of injury or hesitation. Jim barely had time to draw his pistol before Daemon hit him. To his amazement he went crashing backward. Daemon held onto him, using his weight to force him to the ground.
Jim twisted the pistol around and started firing while Daemon grappled with him. Luckily for Jim, Daemon was pummeling his armored chest and head. The beast knew nothing of pistols so it ignored it, which allowed Jim to put round after round into Daemon’s side. Jim shot Daemon six times before Daemon started to lose strength and slow down his assault. Jim kept shooting. Jim emptied the entire fourteen-round clip into Daemon. A few rounds caused minor flesh wounds, but most were to center mass.
Daemon finally stopped moving.
Jim thought about getting his plasma rifle and shooting Daemon with it a few times, but decided it was too much effort to kill something that was already dead. Sara and Angelica were regaining their wits so he went to secure them, instead. He used a couple pairs of tie wraps to bind their hands and ankles before throwing them in the back of the skimmer.
”Jim, what are you doing? These people saved me,” Sara demanded.
He slapped her to shut her up.
Angelica was in shock; her connection to Daemon was gone. Daemon was dead.
Jim collected all the packs and the power coupling.
Mystique watched from her position next to the tree, worried that any minute he would spot her but knowing that if she moved, he would definitely see her.
Jim took one last look around to make sure he’d gotten everything, before climbing into the skimmer and flying off.
Mystique waited a full five minutes before she finally went to see if Daemon was still alive. Anyone else and she wouldn’t have wasted her time, but Daemon had proven he was hard to kill. She rolled him onto his back and leaned down to put her cheek next to his mouth to check if he was breathing. She couldn’t tell if his chest was moving but she thought she felt his breath on her face, so she cut what was left of his shirt off and pressed it to his wounds, just in case. She held the shirt there while she thought.
Mystique didn’t know what to do next. Jimmy had taken everything except what she was wearing. The fire was dying down; she needed to collect more wood. Daemon hadn’t regained consciousness and she had no idea how long it would take him to heal. At least the bleeding had stopped. She didn’t like leaving him helpless, but they were going to need the fire and she didn’t plan on being gone long.
24
Daemon felt like he was floating in water. He could remember the fight and losing control to the beast. The beast had never lost a fight before. Then again, he didn’t make a habit of fighting armed men in powered battle armor. He knew he should be angry and upset but he wasn’t; all he felt was regret and shame. He had failed Angelica. Jim had taken her and was probably going to do terrible things to her before he finally killed her and it was Daemon’s fault. He hadn’t listened to Mystique’s warnings. He hadn’t been able to stop the guy. All he’d been able to do was get shot and killed.
He looked around. He could move, but it was like swimming in molasses. He felt a thick fluid flowing over his arms and legs. He was floating in the stuff and being taken somewhere by the current. It was dark except for the stars in the sky. Daemon didn’t have any sense of time. He couldn’t focus his thoughts enough to judge how long he rode the current. He was weak and only able to stay conscious for a few minutes at a time.
He woke to the sounds of birds chirping and water moving. When he opened his eyes he was lying on a grassy beach near a waterfall. He sat up and took a better look around and to his amazement, it looked like the spot near his house where he went fishing. A man was sitting next to the pool at the base of the waterfall, fishing. He looked at Daemon, nodded, and went back to fishing.
So this must be heaven, Daemon thought, as he got up to go meet the man. “Hi,” he said as he got close.
“Hello. I figured it was time we met,” the old man said as he put down his fishing pole. “Strange way to hunt for fish,” he observed absently.
“Who are you?”
“You think of me as the Beast, so you may call me Beast, if you like. My name does not translate into your language.” He stood up.
Daemon figured the old man had to be in his seventies but he moved with cat-like grace and fluidity. His eyes, like his hair, were black, with no irises, just oily black pools. “What do you mean? I don’t know you. I’ve never seen you before.”
“I am that part of you that takes joy in fighting and hurting. I am the reason for your outbursts of anger. We share your body, though I only take control when violence is appropriate. I am old for my kind and I have gained some control over my own rage. I use your body as a release, of sorts, for that rage.
“I entered your plane of existence when the Rift was first opened but I found your side inhospitable. I watched as the others hunted and killed your kind. I watched your father and mother running off into the woods with your sister. What got my attention was the fact they weren’t afraid for their own lives. They were worried about your sister. I followed them through the woods as others detected them and began to chase them. I was sure they would abandon your sister because she was slowing them down, but they didn’t.
“Finally, your mother couldn’t go any farther; her energy was spent. So they stopped. Your fat
“Your sister saw me that day and she felt no fear. Your mother was carrying a spark of life which had not yet become a full being. I bonded some of my essence to that spark. I protected your family for a while but the drain of being in your plane of existence finally forced me to retreat back through the Rift. You were born shortly after and the bond between us has allowed me to experience everything you do. I have learned much from our time together and I expect to learn much more.”
Daemon stared at the man, unable to speak, barely able to think. What was this man talking about? He had to be crazy. When Daemon was finally able to get his voice working, he asked the man, “You’re telling me you’re some kind of Rift monster and you protected my family? And that you and I are somehow linked together?”
“In simple terms, yes. I live on this side of the Rift in what your kind have referred to as the astral plane. A part of my essence was transferred to you during your creation in your mother’s womb. I wanted to experience all the different emotions that humans possess. I had never felt all of them before. The only emotions members of my species normally feel are rage and hunger; all the other emotions are so weak in comparison that very few of us ever notice them. We can feed on the emotional energy given off by others—that is why we terrify our prey before killing them. Fear is a tasty emotion and it is an easy emotion to invoke in others. But through our connection I have found so many more and better-tasting emotions. I am enjoying our connection very much. I have also found that feeling those emotions through you, I am learning to understand them and I have begun to notice when I feel them myself.
“I brought your spirit here while you are regenerating to explain this to you and let you know that I exist. I am also experimenting with how this conversation will affect your feelings. I am going to send you a gift; it will help you retrieve our sister. Shektee will bring it to you. Kill her if you like, but her kind can be very useful. Do you understand?”
“No, I don’t understand any of this. I thought I was dead but you said I am regenerating. Is this some kind of nightmare?” Daemon’s confusion and frustration showed in his voice.
“I see this was too much for you to understand. Think about what I’ve said. When you are ready to talk, just think of what you want to ask me. Shektee will not harm you or Mystique so you have no reason to kill her, but if you feel you must, go right ahead. She may be useful in the future, though. Her kind is smarter than most and are able to control their hunger if they live long enough to learn how. Now go back to your body and rest.”
Daemon didn’t understand, the guy was speaking nonsense. Rift monsters didn’t talk. They killed in the most sadistic ways possible. He started to protest but before he could everything went black again. Daemon felt the familiar sensation of floating as he passed out. He almost woke up a few times but could never fully regain consciousness.