Battlefield

Battlefield

By Heather C. Myers

For Frank and Kylee

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Unit 121.

That was what she was a part of.  That was what she had known for her entire existence. 

Devyn Carrigan was part of Unit 121 in the International Genealogy Laboratory located in a secluded forest on the outskirts of Los Angeles.  While nearly every member of the human race was born through conception involving intercourse and birth, Devyn and the people she called her family were not.  Devyn was not born, she was created.  Her very existence was thanks to a few highly trained and qualified scientists who could literally create life in a test tube.  The embryo was then carried out to term by a surrogate – but not just any woman.  Genes were incredibly important; there was a reason these people were being created after all, and a surrogate was chosen after a thorough psychology and combat test.

Devyn was not human, really, but a prototype.  She wasn’t created because two people had fallen in love and engaged in an intimate act.  She also wasn’t a mistake.  The reason Devyn was alive at all was because she was a weapon, simple as that.  She was a human weapon that could kill another person with two moves.  She was faster than the fastest human ever born, and she was desperately beautiful, though there were many women in her group that were thought to be even better looking than she was.  Devyn didn’t exactly care about that; she wasn’t allowed to fall in love anyways.

But just because she was created and not born didn’t mean that Devyn or any of her family,
couldn’t
feel.  She had a best friend and she loved to laugh.  She had a favorite color and she loved strawberries.  She found herself to be physically attracted to a couple of the guys she knew, and she reveled in the twilight.  There were times when she would lie on her back and count the stars.

She had human attributes but that did not mean anything to her creators.  In fact, they discouraged such similarities, claiming that humans were a weakness which was why she was created in the first place.  She was supposed to be a weapon, but she didn’t know what she was fighting for. 

Training was all she knew.  From the time she could walk, she and her unit were in training.  Whether it was holding her breath under water for extended amounts of time, whether it was running, whether it was physical combat, whether it was shooting a gun, whether it was battle strategy, it didn’t matter.  Devyn knew all about it.  What she didn’t know was how high trees could grow or what was the purpose of stars.  Things like that didn’t matter.  Only the mission mattered.

It wasn’t until Devyn was twenty-three did she finally realize just why she was created.  She and her Unit were created and trained so hard because they were going to be placed in a literal death match. 

The International Genealogy Laboratory was created to see if life could be created in a lab rather than through chemical and biological reactions.  And they proved that it could.  The IGL was run by the smartest scientists, the most successful military personal, and headed by one very wealthy and very imaginative Director.  Millions upon millions of dollars went into these experiments, and the Director wanted to make money on his investments.  When he was merely twenty, he came up with an idea that was sure to garner him an even bigger fortune than he already had.  He would create six different units and ensure they get the same amount of training in everything from school-related material to physical combat.  When they were old enough, they would pitch the six units together – a fight to the death. 

It was reality television at its finest.  People would pay lots of money to see violence and killing, and death wouldn’t matter because these human machines were created.  They weren’t a part of humanity anyways.

And the survivors?  Well, the unit that survived was free to leave and attempt to blend in with humanity if such a thing was possible.

It was a completely brilliant plan – so brilliant, in fact, that different countries wanted to be a part of the plan, and as a result, get a slice of the revenue.  The Director accepted individual admissions; he only wanted the best of the best, and that was what he got.  People from Mexico, Ireland, Scotland, England, Japan, China, India, Australia, and everywhere in between applied and were accepted.  Interestingly enough, the sex of genotypes – a human creation – didn’t matter.  Units were coed because the females were just as smart and as tough as the men.  Plus, it always attracted more attention when beautiful women in tight clothes were fighting.

He would be a zillionaire, he was sure of it.  And if this thing was successful, he would add another season, do it all over again.

Which was probably why he was so encouraging when it came to prototypes and mating.  Once the Units were formed and the teams were assembled, he arranged breeding partners.  If such a thing were to happen, if his prototypes could breed and have children, he had no problem pushing the experiment and the show back a year or so if possible.

Devyn had no idea who her breeding partner was, and to be frank, she didn’t actually give a shit.  She wasn’t unfamiliar with sex – when she was younger, she had experimented with the pleasurable act, but when it was new, the pleasure seemed to be lacking.  She really didn’t want to engage in such an act with someone she didn’t even know, someone she wasn’t attracted to.  But there she was, waiting in her metal cell-like room, lying flat on her back on the twin bed, staring at the ceiling and waiting for this to be over with.

Not that she was actually going to have sex, of course.  But she hoped this would be the first and only time something like this happened.  Devyn knew how important this whole game was to the Director, and it was highly likely he wouldn’t be wasting any time with the breeding process if none of it took.  The women who did end up pregnant would be required to stay at base and carry the child to full term, which would mean they would be replaced in the game.  Or, if a lot of the women did get pregnant, the Director would merely push back his schedule.

Devyn didn’t want to take that chance.  She wanted to get out of this place and try and experience life as best as she could out in the real world.  Even though Devyn wasn’t much of a fighter, she was good at what she did, which was why she was assigned to a unit.  And if combat and strategy was a means to get out of here, for freedom, she would definitely do what she had to do.  It was as simple as that.

Somebody – a guard, most likely – knocked on her door, causing Devyn to quickly stand up.  If her breeding partner couldn’t take no for an answer, she wanted to be ready to fend him off if she needed to.  She just hoped she had the element of surprise with her because she needed him to keep this quiet.  Hell, maybe he wouldn’t even want to engage in sex anyways.

Before she knew it, the door opened and a tall, broad-shouldered man walked in.  He was wearing the same thing she was wearing – a heather grey t-shirt with the number one-twenty-one written in black on the back, camouflage pants in the colors of black, white, and grey, and dark combat boots.

Devyn crossed her arms over her chest in order to study the man before her, and he did the same in return as the guard closed the door behind him.  The first thing she noticed was his height – he was probably six foot two, if not more.  He had a round face, his features not being as sharp as she had originally thought, and short cropped hair that appeared to be a brown-grey color.  He wasn’t greying, however, but depending on the light, it came off that way.  He was clean-shaven – all the men had to be – and he had big hands.  He was incredibly well-built, and after a moment’s consideration, Devyn decided he had pale green eyes.  It was a pretty color.

Okay, so he was handsome, but there was a mischievous sparkle that resided in those beautiful eyes of his that she narrowed in on.  He was arrogant, she realized, and he hadn’t even opened his mouth.  Slowly, she arched a brow, wondering what it was that he was so arrogant about.

At that moment he smiled, two dimples popping into his cheeks, and revealing an array of straight white teeth.  Okay, so he had a reason to be arrogant, but Devyn preferred men who didn’t exactly know just how attractive he was. 

Like hell she was sleeping with him.

He rubbed his hands together and gave her another once over as he circled her, wanting to take everything she had to offer in.  An annoyed scowl touched Devyn’s features and when he finally met her eyes once more, she looked pointedly at him.

“Let’s get this over with shall we?” he asked her, his Scottish brogue filling the cell as his eyes penetrated her own.    

Devyn crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes.  Did he just ask what she thought he asked? 
He
wanted to get this over with?  Was he kidding?  And then just to assume that she was okay with it?  “Excuse me?” she asked, arching her brow once again.

“What?” the man asked, pushing his eyebrows up as he met her stare with one of his own.  “You don’t understand English, Devyn?”

Devyn felt her jaw lock at the sound of him saying her given name.  “You know my name,” she said quietly, slight accusation in her tone.  The man before her rolled his eyes, as though this wasn’t going as planned and that Devyn was causing him some unwarranted stress.  “How do you know my name?  What’s your name, anyways?”

The man gave her a flat look.  “Which question would you like me to answer first, girlie?” he asked her, his tone matching his face.

Devyn clenched her teeth to prevent her from saying anything she might regret.  Though this man’s presence was aggravating to say the least, she needed him to respect that she didn’t want to engage in such an act.  If worst came to worst, he could force her to do it and nobody would care.  Breeding didn’t mean pleasure or satisfaction or even desire to do the act, it just meant getting the job done in whatever way possible.  But Devyn would like to see him even attempt something as vicious as raping her, only because she was an excellent fighter.  She just couldn’t let him say anything to their Superiors.  Devyn had no idea what kind of person this guy was, but she hoped that despite his arrogance, he wouldn’t rat her out.

“My name is Gerard,” he finally answered, leaning his frame against the back of the door and looking at this woman, Devyn, with a lazy glance.  “And I know your given name – the name you gave yourself – because they told it to me.”  He tilted his head at the door’s direction.  “The guards, I mean.” 

“Gerard,” Devyn said, glancing at the floor beneath her, deciding to try out the name in her mouth.

“That’s it,” Gerard agreed, pushing himself off of the door and taking a couple of steps towards her.  “Now, are you ready to start this, or do you have any more questions?”

“You’re from Scotland?” Devyn asked, perking a brow.  She hoped that she could keep Gerard talking long enough about himself in order to distract him from the whole breeding partner situation they had both found themselves in.  “Which part of Scotland, exactly?  When did you get here?”

Gerard opened his mouth, about to tell her that he was only kidding about the question game and that he really did want to get the whole breeding thing out of the way, but maybe excessive talking was like an aphrodisiac for her, so he decided to humor her, but only for a certain portion of time.

“Glasgow,” he told her.  “There’s a Lab there.  It’s smaller than this one and there were fewer of us, but that’s where I came from.”  He took another step forward, almost expecting Devyn to take a step back, but just like she held his stare, she didn’t move, not even when he leaned forward so his face was mere inches from hers.  She wasn’t stupid; she knew he was seeing just what he could get away with, and Devyn wasn’t the type of person who ran away when confronted.  “And to answer your second question, I got here just hours ago.  And already they want me working.”  He flashed her a wolfish grin and Devyn rolled her eyes.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath.  “They stick me with the most self-involved man they could find.”

“Oh, but you’re a lucky one, girlie, and I’ll tell you why,” he said, capturing his eyes with her own.  “I am quite good at what is required of me, including the act of breeding.”

“There is no way I’m making love with you,” she told him pointedly.

Gerard furrowed his brow.  “Who said anything about making love?” he asked her in his low, rough voice.  “What we are supposed to do is breed.  Have children.  A next generation of what we are.  There is no love involved which means we cannot make it.”  He gave her an enigmatic look.  “Tell me you know this.”

“I know it,” Devyn snapped, hoping her face wasn’t turning red though she could feel the heat burning her cheeks.  Her eyes flashed dangerously in his, and though she slipped up, she wasn’t about to back down.  “Call it whatever you want,
Gerard
,” she said, putting extra emphasis on his given name, “but I’m not breeding with you.”

“But you have to,” Gerard pointed out as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to,” Devyn retorted in a firm voice.  “I am not just some animal, you know.  I’m a human.  I’m not going to screw a guy who was made in a lab simply because he was made in a lab and because the Superiors want us to procreate.  I’m not going to do it!”  She shook her head as she spoke, and though she tried to control her gestures, she was too impassioned to put a greater effort into it.  “I’m human.  I have rights.”

Instead of being upset, Gerard did something Devyn didn’t quite expect.  He threw his head back and laughed – a barking sound that seemed hallow and devoid of any actual amusement.  The sound was cold and, for whatever reason, offended Devyn.  Probably because he was laughing at her beliefs, beliefs that were incredibly important to her.

“Listen to me, girlie,” he said, his tone firm, his eyes serious.  It was almost as though he knew exactly what he was going to tell her because he had told somebody else this exact speech.  And he probably had.  He seemed to fit the whole Alpha-male type.  Maybe he was head of his Unit back in Glasgow.  “Just because we look like humans, just because we speak like humans, just because we feel like humans, does not mean that we are humans.  We are
not
humans.  We are
not
them.  We were created in a lab.  We were meant to be weapons and breeding machines.  That is what we’re supposed to be.  That is our sole purpose of our creation.”  He tilted his head very slightly to the side.  “So get your head out of the clouds.  If you think you’re a human, you’re living in a fantasy land.”

Devyn clenched her jaw once again, letting everything he had said to her sink in.  “Better a fantasy land than the hellhole you’re sharing with me,” she retorted, snapping her eyes out of his and instead, locking them onto a piece of desolate grey wall. 

“Hey,” Gerard said, reaching out to grab onto her face in order to force her to look at him.  “This hellhole is your reality, so you had better get used to it.”

Before Devyn could say anything in return, her door sprung open and a nameless guard stood in the frame, looking at them expectantly.  “111369,” the guard said, addressing Gerard by using what he was referred to on base by the Superiors.  They never called their creations by their names because they thought they were only encouraging human-like behavior. 

Gerard dropped his hands from Devyn’s face and craned his neck so he could glance over at the guard who had called him.  With a snap of the neck, Gerard knew he could kill the uniformed officer in two seconds or less.  “Yeah?” he asked, a hint of annoyance buried deep in his voice.

“Has the transaction between you and 113089 been complete?”

Devyn swallowed as Gerard turned to look at her.  They locked eyes once again, and though Devyn’s pride would never allow her to beg, she knew that her eyes were currently pleading with Gerard’s, however subtle it might be, to tell them that they had.  If he said they hadn’t, they would both be punished unless he blamed everything on her.  But if he said yes…  She hoped that he would say yes.

“Yes,” he finally said, choosing to look at Devyn rather than the guard.  “Yes, the transaction was carried out and completed.”  He looked at her in such a way that told her she owed him, that he would be willing to keep their secret, but she owed him.

“All right then,” the guard said and walked inside, grabbing Gerard’s wrist and pulling him out of the cell.  He threw a glance back at Devyn, who had sat down on the edge of her bed.  The guard grinned mischievously at Gerard as the guard locked the woman inside.  “I bet you had fun with that one, huh?  She’s always a sight for sore eyes.”

Gerard refrained from rolling his eyes and forced a similar smile onto his face.  “Oh yes,” he agreed, and though he had tried, an undetectable amount of dryness still tainted his voice.  “Fun.  She’s quite a delightful creature.”