The Harvester (13 page)

Blackbeard smirked at us. “Dead is easy. Living is hard, right. bloke?”

I thought to myself that he had a point. “Well, we’re all Dead Ones. Your crew and my crew, Dead Ones. So let’s finish this,” I told him.

Blackbeard maniacally laughed. “I understand now. You’re not fugitives wanted by the King. You’re here for me and me fair crew! You purposely boarded this vessel, knowing that these are my waters, and eventually I’d capture her.”

“You catch on quick, don’t ya’?” I said sarcastically on purpose to hopefully ruffle his feathers.

Now he had an angry, upset expression on his face. Now that I’m reflecting, I wished we had cameras back then to snap a photo of his expression. It would end up on all the Agency’s Walls of Persecution. Even the slightest moves from anyone would trigger a full-out battle. They know we’re outnumbered, but they also know we are Harvesters and very well-trained. I didn’t truly know how this was going to pan out. One fact I did know, however, blood will continue to be spilt as the seagulls well know.

I wanted Blackbeard for myself, and I knew he really wanted to kill me. I was rather sure I was the only person who has stood up against him in such a way, and I knew this had him angered. I nodded to one of my crew to grab the net with our swords and he did so. We wielded our swords and now felt like we’re in our comfort zone.

I pointed my sword at Blackbeard. “I call you out. Or we can have a full-out battle. I hope you can be man enough to challenge me alone.”

Now, I did this not because of ego, but rather because I’ve already loss three Harvesters and I refuse to lose any more. Also, I knew a pirate of his stature would not allow anyone to dishonor him. He couldn’t refuse a one-on-one battle now. The look on Blackbeard’s face, through his long, bushy beard and sun-dried, wrinkly skin, told me he wanted to prove to his crew that the stories of him were true. He was the most dangerous person in the world, and he can kill anyone at any given moment.

“I accept your challenge. But thy be warned. After I kill you, the rest of your crew will perish as well.”

I nodded. “The warning goes back on you, pirate,” I informed him.

His crew and mine backed up to give us plenty of space to duel. The Spaniards tightly huddled up at the stern to avoid it all. I have dueled skilled people from all over the world but never someone with such a reputation as Blackbeard. I mean, even his crew, his crew were able to kill three of my Harvesters. I can only imagine what he can do one-on-one.

The sun set when Blackbeard jostled toward me with a clumsy move. I instantly thought he did that on purpose to lure me into a fatal trap, so I simply dodged the maneuver and stepped away from him. He grinned at me, and now, I knew I was right.

“You can do better than that, Blackbeard.” I let him know I’m onto his trick.

“And better I shall, Harvester.”

He quickly drew a pistol and fired at me. I tried to dodge it, but I was hit in the knee, a very painful and demobilizing place to be shot. It dropped me to one knee. But I knew he knew a simple bullet won’t kill a Dead One, but he also knew a bullet to the knee will definitely slow me down. His crew cheered and egged him on to finish me off. He sprinted toward me with his sword pointed straight at me. He thrust his sword down at me. I roll out of the way and quickly retaliate with a sword slice across his back, which ripped through his sloppy, loose clothing, and into his pale flesh. Black blood spilled onto the deck and joined my blood from my knee, making a pool of Dead Ones’ blood. My crew at any moment could’ve collectively attacked Blackbeard as he tries to regroup from his wound. But that’s not how we work when we have accepted a challenge. I called Blackbeard out to a one-on-one challenge, and that’s that. I used my sword to help me stand. I limped toward Blackbeard who still grimaced in pain and clutched his wound. I got within a foot of him, and he spun around with pistol in hand again.

I was quick to slice my sword through his wrist, and his hand and gun dropped to the deck. The pistol fired and shot one of his pirates through his eye. He fell backward and stumbled overboard.

“Good shooting,” I say with obvious sarcasm.

“He’s expendable,” he retorted. “Nobody’s been able to lay a blade on thee, Harvester. You’re better than I thought.”

We squared off again, and I took my typical combative stance. “And I thought you were better. I guess all the stories and tales were just that. It’ll be an extreme pleasure to hold your severed head in my hand.”

Blackbeard charged me with anger. I stood my ground. He got within inches of me. I instantly turned to my side, and his sword went pass me. I grabbed his sword by the hilt with one hand and held Blackbeard in a reverse chokehold with the other. He tried to break my death grip. But I’ve been dead a lot longer than him, and he had no chance now.

He was right where I wanted him. His crew motioned to give aid, but my crew held ’em off.

“You have two choices, Blackbeard. You come with me peacefully to stand trial or I slice your head off right here, right now.”

Blackbeard laughed. “A pirate, a true pirate, desires two things: the booty and to know his name will be forever remembered in sea shanties and stories and tales. I’ll take choice two, Harvester.” He looked at his crew. “I bid all of you adieu, boys, and I’ll see you in Hell.”

I slice through his neck like the Academy trained us to do, with power and precision. His head fell onto the deck, and I kicked it into the ocean. His smoke no longer burned around his face, and his crew appeared concerned and hopeless. They also appeared lost. Something I truly feel they have never felt since being under his command. We focused on Blackbeard’s crew. I stepped forward.

“You know what your fate is.”

And it was.

B
ut for Naes and I we still have to deal with the four Section 520 Scorpions quickly advancing on us. We’re trapped with nowhere to run. The half Dead Ones, half scorpions are big, strong, powerful, and very deadly. I look across at Naes, and I can see fear and intimidation in his eyes, and this concerns me. If he’s taken hostage, Vega will most definitely extract vital information from his mind, which could cause the downfall of all six Agencies across the world. The thought of actually killing him has crossed my mind. But I’d kill for the Agency, not for me, is how I always thought. All Harvesters think this way. I draw my gun and aim it at him. I know it won’t kill him, but it will slow him down enough for me to take his head. At this point, my mind runs wild.

What’s Vega’s overall goal? It’s not hard to come up with an answer. He wants to topple all six Agencies and be the ruler of the world. Being a Dead One, he could be in control for several millennia. He could do it too. He has a Master Hole that can travel to all three realms, he has a complete list on all Harvesters and their families, he has an Army larger than ours, and he has the power to achieve things that we can’t any longer, like regenerating lost body parts and time-shifting. Well, it’s very possible for him to do so, but if I’m still around, I’ll do what I must to stop him. But I must admit, it also boils down to me aching to conquer Vega. It may sound selfish, even egotistical, but with our long history, I must be the one who takes him out for good damn it!

I look back at Naes, and he nods at me with acceptance.

He obviously thinks the way I do. I’m still torn though, and I only have a matter of seconds to decide an absolute mind boggling decision. One of the Section 520 creatures leaps onto the vehicle I’m taking cover behind and now my decision has been made for me. I instinctively raise my gun and repeatedly fire at it.

Out of nowhere, a Blackhawk war helicopter swoops down into the fray. Its big guns spray the area with high caliber bullets. The Underworlder on the vehicle’s roof is ripped to pieces. The pilot focuses it massive firepower on two more and gets the same results—they’re ripped to shreds. I spring to my feet and look to the spot I last saw Naes, but he’s gone. Only his sword lies on the concrete.

This is a bad sign. Harvesters never leave their sword behind anywhere. I scan the area for him and finally spot him. This isn’t good. The surviving Section 520 Scorpion scales the side of a skyscraper with Naes in one of its claws. I flag down the Blackhawk pilot, and he lands in the middle of the street. Trash and debris fly all over. People who were brave enough, or just plain insane, stare at us and film everything with their phones. I run over and snatch Naes’s sword and bolt to the helicopter. I open the passenger hatch door and hop in, and I’m pleasantly surprised to see that the pilot is Dorian, the World War II hero I mentioned.

“Dorian? I thought you retired? They transferred you to my branch?” I inquire.

“Couldn’t stay away from the Harvest. I got the bug,” he replies.

“Thanks for the backup. Now let’s get my partner back.”

“Let’s rock and roll!”

Dorian elevates the helicopter directly upward and heads for the Underworlder about to reach the top of the skyscraper.

“Just curious, but how did you know where to find us?”

“Your battle against the 520s went viral in ten seconds, and we found it on the Internet.”

“That makes sense. Mr. Herald isn’t going to be happy about that.”

We make it to the top of the skyscraper as the Section 520 Scorpion does, and it smashes through a neon sign, making sparks ignite and shoot into the air. Now a news helicopter flies by and films everything.

“This isn’t good,” I tell Dorian who shakes his head in annoyance.

The Agency frowns upon any type of footage of us during work, especially when a terrifying creature is at the center of the action. Try to explain that one to the president. Dorian ascends over the skyscraper’s roof, but Naes is gone. How can a creature of that size while on the roof to a skyscraper vanish that quickly? It’s not like it could fit through a standard door. I look all around the neighboring rooftops as Dorian continues with a helicopter holding pattern and nothing. Dorian now soars around the whole rooftop and still nothing.

“Something’s wrong here,” I state to Dorian.

“Never underestimate Vega and his mad scientists. It could be some sort of new creation that can mutate or even—”

Dorian’s thought process is interrupted when another Section 520 creature, half Dead One, half bat, an enormous bloodsucker with razor sharp claws and fangs attacks the Blackhawk.

“Shit! Told you there’s something wrong. Blow it out of the air.”

Dorian unleashes a flurry of bullets, but the Section 520 Bat is too swift and avoids every one of them. It latches its claws onto the underbelly of the Blackhawk, and the helicopter begins to lose pressure and power. One of its wings comes crashing through my window and comes within inches of slicing my neck open. I draw my gun and shoot several holes through the wing, and it releases its grip from the Blackhawk and soars downward.

“I don’t know if I can regain control of her!” I can hear the concern in Dorian’s voice, and I don’t like it. The Blackhawk begins to dive. “I’m landing on the roof! Hold on!”

I do exactly that and tightly hold on. “Landing? Don’t you mean crashing?” I shout.

He grips the controls with all his strength. I see people in neighboring buildings smashed up against the windows watching the excitement. Dorian tries the best he can to land as safely as possible on the skyscraper’s roof, but this doesn’t look pretty, and we end up crashing sideways on it. The propeller blades rip into the roof.

Dorian smirks at me. “Well, any landing you can walk away from is a good landing, right?”

I can’t help but to release a slight laugh. But we still need to find Naes. We climb out of the wreckage, and I instantly pull out my cell phone and call Mr. Herald. He answers.

“Mr. Herald, we lost Naes. The Blackhawk is non-operational.” I listen for a few seconds. I hear some sort of flapping noises. “I’m on it, Mr. Herald.”

I hang up, and Dorian and I look all around for the flapping noises because we know what’s coming for us.

“It’s that damn bat,” Dorian exclaims.

“Shit.”

I draw my sword. The wind blasts from its wings pick up in our area, and I know it’s from the giant Section 520 Bat. I hate bats! Dorian draws two Japanese short swords and lays them beside himself. I’ve always loved his style. And the fact we have something in common other than being Harvesters, we both served in World War II. Although, his service was more impressive due to him being human then, and I was one of the Dead Ones with no fear of dying. We need to not kill this creature, yet capture it and interrogate it to find Naes’s location and if need be extract the info we need from its mind.

“You know the drill, Dorian.”

He nods at me with the eager anticipation of combat.

The Bat’s wings flapping louder and louder grows to the point of being almost deafening. Our heads are on swivels, but we don’t see the winged, fanged bastard. The longer it takes to handle this messed-up, bizarre situation the less chance we have of finding Naes alive and that damned 520 Scorpion abomination.

“Go for its wings,” I tell Dorian, but he can’t hear me. The Bat’s wings flapping drowns out my voice. Any second now, we will be face-to-face with one of the most hideous, powerful creations I’ve ever battled. I must admit, I’m stressing out a bit. I must stay focused and channel my master Miyamoto Musashi and not allow my emotions to take control of my actions. Dorian can’t take the waiting any longer, and his patience has obviously worn thin because he moves to the edge of the roof and peers over. The Section 520 Bat soars up right at him, and he’s blasted back and through the air. I feel the blast of wind, and I’m thirty feet away. As the Section 520 Bat circles us, I draw my AR-15 and fire at it, purposely aiming for its wings only. I know bullets to its wings won’t kill it, but I’m hoping if I destroy its wings it will be forced to land. Dorian stands and joins me on bringing this true-to-life bird of prey down.

Numerous bullets rip through its wings, and it quickly descends toward the nearby apartment complex’s roof. Dorian and I rocket to the edge of the roof and leap off. We easily clear the gap between the buildings and keep in stride toward the Section 520 Bat about to crash land. We holster our guns and once again draw our swords. The beast smashes through the roof and vanishes. We can only hear sounds of breaking wood and drywall. Dorian and I rush to the large hole in the roof and peer down. The Section 520 Bat lies on the floor below unconscious with debris and rubble on it.

“Think it’s playing possum, Harvey?”

“One way to find out.”

I jump down into the hole and land beside the Bat. Dorian stays put and covers me like a good soldier. A tenant steps out of her apartment and sees everything. She stares at the Section 520 Bat, gasps, and falls unconscious. Her young son comes out to her aid and realizes why she passed out. His eyes widen with excitement.

“Cool!”

The Section 520 Bat hisses as it awakens. The kid freaks out and screams in horror. I point at the kid. “Get back inside, now.” I grab his mother’s feet and drag her back into their apartment. “Whatever you hear, kid, do not come out here if you want to live.”

I slam their door shut and pull out six daggers. I jab three in both of its wings and pin it to the floor. I don’t know what the proper protocol is on a new creation like this, so I figure what I just did might be sufficient enough. We’ll see. Dorian observes everything with a very acute eye. I’m startled when the Section 520 Bat snatches my ankle and trips me to the floor. Dorian is quick to respond by jumping down with his sword pointed at the Section 520 Bat’s arm grabbing me. He slices his sword through its arm and pins it to the floor. It lets out a shriek of pain so loud that it breaks the nearby windows.

“Thanks, Dorian,” I say as I stand. I’m not used to depending on anyone and actually have to say “Thank you.”

However, this a new Section 520 Bat we’re having to deal with that Vega is surely proud of, I’m sure. I wonder how many he’s going to toss at us.

“Just kill me,” the Section 520 Bat says in a shrill tone that is almost unbearable to listen to.

Dorian smirks at it. “Where’s the fun in that?”

I step forward and place my right boot on its throat with my spur within an inch of its neck. “I’m going to ask you one time and one time only. Where’s my partner? And I know that you know that if I have to place the Halo of Truth on your head, your mind will forever be lost. Your choice.”

The 520 Bat looks up at me with its black eyes. “Your partner is someone else’s partner.”

This statement shocks me, but I also know Underworlders lie, deceive, cheat, and trick you. This could be a ploy, implemented by Vega himself to pit us against an innocent Harvester to cause inner turmoil and chaos within the Agency. And I wouldn’t put it pass Vega to do so. However, I must keep an open mind. If Vega was able to flip one of the six Heads to go to the Underworld’s side, then a Harvester wouldn’t be a problem. My thought process is cut off by the disgusting stench of the Section 520 Bat. It’s a complete assault on the senses. You’d think if Vega’s mad scientists could create something like this crossbred Bat, they should’ve been able to do it without the stench. I’m just saying.

All of sudden, from above, the eight-foot-long stinger from the Section 520 Scorpion drops beside us. We look up and see Naes standing on the roof staring down on us. He has cuts and gashes all over his body. It must’ve been one hell of a fight. He hyperventilates and profusely sweats.

Dorian grins at the 520 Bat. “It appears we don’t need you any longer.”

Dorian extracts his sword from the 520 Bat and swings it at its neck.

“No!” I shout at Naes, but it’s too late. He slices its head off and gives the 520 Bat a one-way punched ticket to the After.

Dorian gives me a confused expression. “What?”

I peer up at Naes. “It’s just . . . well . . . we could’ve used it for info.”