The Two Week Curse Read online

  “Bronco One, this is Bronco Two. Understood. Out.”

  The lead Bronco moved off. The second was starting to move when the Benz spun its tires, pushing to get in front of them.

  “Silver Dragon, this is Bronco Three. Your position is third in formation! Over!” Rossy barked.

  “We don’t have time to wait around!” the driver said, not listening to radio procedure.

  Rossy talked on a side channel. “Trucks, keep that fucker boxed in—can’t trust him.”

  Honcho turned his truck, cutting off the Benz idiot.

  “Why couldn’t we put one of our people in there again?” Rugrat asked.

  “Fucking union or some shit,” Dillon said.

  “Ain’t no fucking unions around here,” Honcho said.

  “Still some dumb mother fuckers,” Erik grumbled, shifting his shoulders and armor.

  The Benz driver tried to get ahead a few more times but to no avail.

  They exited the camp as Rossy kept berating the driver to stop pissing about like an idiot.

  Erik looked at the Benz. The idiot was just making everyone’s job harder.

  The Benz calmed down after seeing that there was no way for them to get ahead. They rode through the rough landscape. It wasn’t long before the road that was empty on both sides started to fill up with burnt-out cars, craters, and pitted roads with a shanty town on either side. They looked out for threats as they rushed past.

  The roads started to get more complicated as they had to weave down streets, not slowing their speed any as they even forced some cars out of the way, charging forward. They’d rather do the insurance payout than get stuck.

  People seemed to be watching them from every angle.

  Erik gripped his rifle tighter as they continued on their path.

  Chapter: Where the Devil Roams

  They took a right, heading out of Gangster Alley, where a lot of the local gangs had claimed territory, turning it into a war zone.

  The Benz surged ahead and rushed through the gangland, not following the trucks.

  “Fuck!” Rossy yelled accidentally on the live channel. “Bronco Two and Three, this is Bronco One. Loop around and come get us. We’ll follow Silver Dragon,” Rossy hissed.

  “Dillon, make sure that gun is live!” Erik’s adrenaline spiked as Bronco Three picked up speed, not caring how rough it got.

  “I said that it should be one of us driving,” Rugrat said in the backseat as they bounced up and down, the suspension creaking and complaining.

  They raced through the streets. People jumped out of the way of the modified trucks, leaving a trail of dust behind them.

  There was a dull noise. Erik’s head snapped to the side with the noise. He looked to Honcho and Rugrat in the truck.

  “Sounds like a fucking IED!” Dillon yelled from above. The electric motor of the turret moved as Dillon looked out over the shanty town. “I see smoke!”

  “Contact! Silver Dragon and Bronco One have been hit. Silver Dragon took most of the blast. We need immediate assistance!” The sound of gunfire could be heard in the distance and over the radio.

  “We’ve got incoming small arms fire!”

  “Rugrat, get onto higher, and get some of those QRF helo boys on standby ready to move,” Erik yelled.

  “On it, boss!” Rugrat confirmed.

  “All call signs, this is Bronco Three. Bronco Two and Three will move to Bronco One’s position. Our aim is not to secure the area but to pull out as fast as possible. Hellfire One will be moving in support. Understood?”

  “Bronco Three, this is One. Understood!”

  “Bronco Three, this is Two. Understood!”

  “Paste anything that shoots at us,” Erik reminded everyone.

  The trucks turned onto a big road as people were running about.

  “West, I got some fuckers running around with guns!” Dillon yelled.

  “Don’t shoot them until they give it a try!” Erik said, seeing them through his busted ass window.

  “Hey fuckers! Over here! Come on, let me fucking shoot you!” Dillon yelled.

  Honcho leaned on the horn as the group turned around. One with a machine gun tried firing from the hip.

  Dillon’s reply was much louder as he fired up his machine guns. A line of tracers left messy stains on the wall behind and no more bad guys running around.

  They rushed past, the two gunners looking out for anything that might be a threat.

  Rugrat was talking into his radio as they went over a small rise. Erik grunted as his head hit the roof of the truck. Rugrat’s hand was on Dillon’s belt, making sure that he wouldn’t go flying out of the turret.

  Bronco One turned and went down a side road.

  “Contact!” Bronco Two called out. The heavy machine gun let out its deep bassy thuds as a rocket-propelled grenade hit a house, turning it into flying rubble as it exploded.

  “Fuck me!” Dillon yelled. The turret moved as he tracked onto target. Tracers made short work of the thrown-together building, punching holes through it with ease.

  The trucks continued at their best speed, not slowing down as they fought on.

  Rugrat clapped Erik on the shoulder, leaning forward so he was right next to Erik’s ear. “Call sign Hellfire is spinning up. Need fifteen!”

  Erik tapped Rugrat’s hand, confirming he’d heard him as they veered off their route. The shanty town was coming alive, people running away as the gangs rushed in.

  Fuck. They finally turned onto the street that Bronco One and Silver Dragon were on.

  Bronco One’s front end was fucked while Silver Dragon was burning away, half torn apart by the explosive that had gone off.

  Whatever had been used to make the IED was powerful to the point of reckless. The houses within fifty meters were shrapnel. Bodies lay here and there. People cried out in pain. Their pain was only quieter than the sounds of weapons fire.

  The heavy weapons picked up their pace.

  “Bronco Two, cover us. Bronco Three will move to assist. We’re going to hook up tow ropes and pull it the fuck out of here, now! Copy over!” Erik said.

  “Bronco Three, this is Two. Will move to cover and support as you hook up to Bronco One! Out!”

  Erik clapped Honcho on the shoulder. “Get me nice and close to them. Rugrat, get that tow hooked up!”

  “Got it!” Honcho said.

  Rugrat moved around in his seat, hand on the door as rounds sparked off the truck, Dillon firing back at where the muzzle flashes and whizzes came from.

  “Coming up on it!” Honcho yelled. He slammed on his brakes.

  Erik had to use the grab bar to stop going forward as he pushed the door open and jumped out of the truck. He slammed the door shut as he rushed for Bronco One.

  Rugrat opened the back of Bronco Three and hauled out massive tow ropes, dragging them over to the truck.

  Denners was up in the turret on Bronco One, firing and keeping the surrounding attackers’ heads down. He was the one who had called in the contact report.

  He had balls of fucking steel as Erik looked in on the rest of the crew. The driver, Keller, was slumped forward, blood covering him and the wheel.

  Erik checked his pulse; finding nothing, he moved to the back of the truck.

  Yoreck was banged up pretty bad.

  “Yoreck, stop moving around, you fuck!” Erik yelled.

  “Doc! Doc, that you? Fuck, man, it hurts!” Yoreck said, in clear pain.

  Erik grabbed his collar and looked in his eyes. “Get your fucking shit together. You’re fine, all right!” Erik used his command voice.

  “Yah, got it!” Yoreck said, something switching in his brain as he did his best to stay out of Erik’s way.

  Erik checked him. He had cuts here and there; his left arm was fucked up and he had a scalp bleed. “Your chest hurt?” Erik pushed on it.

  Yoreck let out a scream, making Erik wince.

  “
Sorry, dude,” Erik said. He wasn’t too bad, but he wasn’t in a good way. He didn’t know what was going on inside Yoreck but he didn’t like it.

  “Stay here, all right?” Erik said, looking at Yoreck.

  “Got it, got it. Sorry, man,” Yoreck said.

  “You’re all good. Don’t worry about it.” Erik rushed over to Rossy, who was riding shotgun.

  Rossy was slumped in his seat, his face pale as his legs were covered in mangled metal.

  “Fuck,” Erik spat. He tore off his bag and started to pull out tourniquets. He wrapped them around Rossy’s leg, knowing that they would need to be amputated anyway. He started treating Rossy as best as he could, setting up an IV and trying to get some more liquids into him.

  “Hellfire. Hellfire, this is Bronco Three, you copy?”

  “Bronco Three, this is Hellfire One. You are reading loud and clear. Over.”

  “Hellfire, I have one Pri-Alpha, one Pri-Charlie and one Pri-Foxtrot. Understood? Over,” Erik said. Rounds pinged off the side of the truck as he pushed in closer to Rossy. He put the bag of saline up in the truck as he grabbed his rifle.

  “Bronco Three, this is Hellfire One. One Pri-Alpha, one Pri-Charlie, one Pri-Foxtrot. Over.”

  Erik brought his rifle up and fired on where the rounds hitting near him were coming from.

  Denners rotated his gun over and fired on the position, following Erik’s tracers in.

  “Hellfire, that is correct! What’s your ETA? Over.” Erik lowered his rifle and worked on Rossy again.

  “Bronco Three, our ETA is ten minutes. Over.”

  “Understood. Bronco Three out.”

  “Rugrat, how them ropes going?” Erik yelled over the truck.

  “First one’s on, hooking up the second!” Rugrat yelled back.

  “Rossy, dude, I need you, man. Come on, talk to me,” Erik said as he did a more thorough check of Rossy, finding blood pumping out from his upper thigh.

  Erik pulled out another tourniquet and strapped it around Rossy’s upper thigh, tightening it as much as possible while squeezing on the bag of saline.

  Rossy’s body slumped as Erik’s fingers moved for Rossy’s neck, not finding a pulse.

  He pulled out a field resuscitator, ripping off the different pads and putting it on Rossy.

  “Please stand back!” the machine said. Erik hit the accept button as Rossy’s body was shocked, making him jump.

  “No pulse detected,” the machine’s voice yelled out as it tried to shock Rossy once again.

  “No pulse detected,” the machine mercilessly declared.

  Erik grabbed his rifle and fired on the attackers around them, hoping to give Rugrat more cover.

  “We’re hooked up!” Rugrat yelled.

  Erik was about to reply when he heard a buzzing noise.

  He looked around before seeing a drone rushing toward him with an IED strapped onto it. Erik fired at the drone, trying to take it out. It swerved; one of its motors or something was hit as it skidded across the ground.

  “No pulse detected.”

  The explosive on the drone went off and Erik was tossed backward. He screamed out as his legs and arm were shredded.

  He tried to move his left arm and found that it wouldn’t respond to him properly. It was becoming harder to move and he was quickly turning cold. “Fuck!” Erik yelled out.

  “Honcho, we’re all hooked up! Drive forward!” Rugrat yelled.

  “Rugrat!” Erik yelled out, fear starting to take over as he forced himself to breathe and moved to grab tourniquets for his legs.

  “West!” Rugrat yelled.

  “Over here!” Erik tried to yell but his voice cracked and it was hard for him to do anything that didn’t elicit pain.

  He was putting on his first tourniquet, trying to get it tighter and tighter.

  Rugrat came into view. He checked the area, firing on a few of the positions around the truck.

  Honcho revved the engine on Bronco Three, pulling the tow lines tight.

  “No pulse detected.” The resuscitation machine zapped Rossy again.

  “Pulse detected!”

  Rugrat quickly grabbed Erik’s vest.

  Erik could swear that he saw a blue circle above him and Rugrat. A blue flame appeared in the sky above them, splitting into two and shooting into Erik and Rugrat.

  Rugrat didn’t seem to even notice as he pulled Erik back to Bronco Three. Erik screamed with the pain of his broken limbs dragging against the ground.

  “No pulse detected, attempting to resuscitate.” The machine attached to Rossy continued as Rugrat pulled Erik into Bronco Three.

  “Get us the fuck out of here, Honcho!” Rugrat yelled as he pulled out gear from the back of the truck and started to patch Erik up.

  Honcho fired up the truck, rocking Bronco One before hauling it forward. The tires rubbed on the ground as Bronco One was pulled out of the blast zone. Bronco Three strained against the extra weight but continued to pull Bronco One out of the crater it was in. The trucks moved as fast as possible, firing on the buildings to either side as they moved around the corners, getting out of Gangster Alley.

  “Bronco Three, this is Hellfire One. We are three minutes from your location. Over.”

  Erik was feeling out of it from the pain as Rugrat stuck him with morphine and got on the radio to report the situation, moving Rossy from a Pri-Alpha to a Pri-Foxtrot.

  Erik didn’t remember much as they drove through the streets or the stop-off in a park as they loaded him up on one of the Hellfire helos and he shot off toward the hospital.

  It was just a flash of memories as he didn’t want to—or try to—take everything that was going on, in.

  Chapter: Two-Week Curse

  All Erik remembered was pain, pain running through his entire body as if he was being torn apart from the inside. Then one day he woke up.

  His legs were gone, his left arm too. They’d saved his life, but he had a two week curse.

  He recovered faster than anyone else, and the doctors signed off of his papers, allowing him to be released, he didn’t have anywhere to go, estranged from his family, his family were those that he had fought beside.

  He would smile and joke when they came around but afterwards the mask would fall and defeat would consume him.

  Erik didn’t know how many times he had watched this interview.

  “They call it the two-week curse. What was originally being called an age of heroes has now taken a drastic turn for the worse,” the news reporter said.

  Erik watched the report with dead eyes. It was the same report he had seen before he had gone out on his last patrol. He closed his eyes as tears appeared at the corners of his eyes. With a shaky breath, he was able to push down his emotions.

  He once again focused on the television and the recorded broadcast that was now being shown to everyone who had the two-week curse to get used to their new circumstances.

  “Two days ago, the first of the disappearances began, with people vanishing into thin air. Many are calling for answers, some people even saying that it’s a government conspiracy. However, there have been no answers at this point. All we can be sure of is people are disappearing roughly two weeks after they contract the curse and they are never seen or heard from again. We now bring in our expert on the matter, Doctor Werstein,” the lady said. “Thank you for coming on the show, Doctor Werstein. I’ll jump right to the questions on everyone’s mind. What is this two-week curse and why are people disappearing?”

  “The two-week curse is hard to describe, but it looks like it removes the natural limitations of those who contract it, and allows them to gain access to Mana, magical power, like we see in video games and comic books,” Doctor Werstein said in a serious voice.

  “Surpassing limitations?” the reporter asked.

  “Before, if you worked out, then you would tear the muscle fibers; they would repair, and you could lift more. There was an upper li
mit based on the strength of your bones, muscles, and body before it had negative effects. After reaching a certain threshold, your body can’t improve anymore unless you focus on only training. People who exercise and who have contracted the curse have a numerical value of how strong they are. A normal adult male has a strength of about four, with women having a strength of three. Normal people can train all they want but they reach an upper limit of what their body can do. You can put in all the effort in the world but you can’t defeat your genetics. With the cursed, it seems that the more you train, the more your body improves. It becomes increasingly harder to reach those higher stat levels, but there doesn’t seem to be a limit for upward growth.”

  “So a human right now is limited in the stats they can reach, but a cursed has no such limitation?”

  “Possibly. We have seen a slowdown in people reaching higher levels as they aren’t able to get the nutrients or find environments to push themselves. With people disappearing after two weeks, few people are willing to do studies.” Werstein shrugged.

  “Tell us about that, the reason that it is called the two-week curse with the strange disappearances.” The reporter leaned forward.

  “Well, I’m a medical professional, but based on testing, this same Mana energy is used when they disappear. It seems that they are being teleported to somewhere. We don’t know where.” Werstein sighed.

  “Is there any way to know why people are being targeted?”

  “There are no common factors. People are picked at random,” Werstein said.

  Erik flipped channels from his bed, seeing other experts talking on the curse, then pictures and videos of people disappearing. The strange circle that appeared in the air and descended on the cursed. A flash of light and they were gone, a hole burned into the ground.

  This was the new reality that he had woken up to.

  With a thought, he called up his newest addition.

  Character Sheet

  ==========

  Name: Erik West

  ==========

  Level: 0

  ==========

  Race: Human

  ==========

  Titles: From the Grave

  ==========

  Strength: (Base 7) +0 (-3 due to injuries))