062 - Dangerous Visions

[Amyral]

Everyone, from the great heroes to the trained soldiers, stared intently at the dome in front of them. That moment seemed brief for everyone else, but for Logan, it was an eternity.

He wasn’t a fighter. He barely knew how to use the swords on his back. All he had ever done at Patrick’s was try to mimic what he had seen Jet to, but he was never as good as his former leader.

There was a flash of light. Logan’s eyes widened…

He ran.

***

“Hey, Logan, you plan on working today?”

Logan was snapped from his daydream. The young boy tilted his head back to see a black-haired youth standing over him. The older boy’s hands were on his hips and he was smiling down at the kid.

“Sorry, leader,” the young boy said, getting to his feet.

Jet smiled down at him, running his fingers through his hair. “Come on,” he invited him.

Logan glanced around their home. It was a large collection of tree homes with creaky wooden walkways. Beams of light occasionally shot through the thick verdant growth above them. Each of the tree homes could fit four people. Jet said he had gotten the idea for the tree houses from a group he called The Lost Boys, orphans who lived in a forest with a leader who never grew up. Logan had heard him call himself one before, but the girls in the group put a quick end to that. Still, Jet referred to them as that when none of the girls were around. Logan admired Jet’s imagination.

Logan was left walking along the narrow pathway as Jet jumped from branch to branch. When they reached a larger tree home in the middle of the village, Jet walked to a window sill and Logan sat down on a tree branch. Jet grabbed a piece of fruit from the window sill, a remnant of the last food shipment they had pilfered, and tossed it to him. Logan caught it and took a bite, letting the sweet flesh fill his mouth.

“You’re trying to remember your parents, aren’t you?” Jet said, sitting down next to Logan.

Logan nodded, biting his lip. His parents were victims of the plague. “Yeah… it’s getting harder.”

“We all forget eventually,” Jet said, trying to comfort Logan. Jet’s parents had died in the war; they were one of the first casualties on Hunt’s attacks.

“Does it ever easier? Being without them?” Logan asked, looking down and sighing.

Jet put his arm on Logan’s shoulder. “I want to lie and say yes, but I can’t. However, it helps to have a cause, a reason to live for,” Jet explained.

Logan took another bite of the fruit and looked up at Jet. “What’s yours?”

Jet smiled. “There’s a group of people, a very brave group of people. When things looked to be their worst, they stood up for what was right. I hope to continue their fight one day.”

Logan kicked his feet some and glanced up at Jet. “Who were they?”

Jet looked out among the endless forest in front of them. The swords on his back caught a beam of light from the forest and a cool breeze began to rustle through the tree tops. He began to tell the story of the Freedom Fighters. Logan listened intently.

“Great men are no different from us, Logan. They just stand for what they believe in,” Jet told Logan as they looked through the forest.

“How could they fight like that? Weren’t they worried about dying?” he asked.

Jet smiled. “Great men are willing to fight and die for their beliefs, Logan. For men like that, they accept it. To die for what you believe is among the greatest acts a man can do. Remember that.”

***

Marco glanced to everyone and nodded. It seemed to be signal enough as the One Nation soldiers began to scatter. Costanza took a kneeling position on the north end of the room. Marco took up a spot on the west side. Scott tugged at Kevin, motioning toward a corner. The two sharpshooters took up spots in separate corners, readying their rifles.

Logan just glanced around as everyone took up positions. He was left in the middle of the room with Andrew, Marcus, Alex and Krivin. Andrew and Marcus both glanced back at Alex. “You two, stay back. Keep a good distance; we can’t stay too close together.

Logan nodded, taking Alex’s hand and leaving the three with plenty of room. Logan was relieved just to be out of everyone’s way. Even though it was nine on one, he was worried.

The three Freedom Fighters glanced around the room. “Show yourself Tyne, you have no more illusions and no more tricks,” Andrew commanded.

There was laughter through the room. “I was just making sure you were all ready. There are only nine of you, it wouldn’t be fair to attack before you were ready,” Tyne responded, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Everyone looked to the ceiling of the room for any hint of Tyne. The voice seemed to come from every angle.

“Yeah, well, we’re ready,” Marcus grunted.

Almost as soon as he finished talking, a burst of light filled the room. The three drew their swords and lunged forward. There was a flurry of slashes and flashes of light. Logan watched, barely able to follow the action.

Alex cheered loudly. “Get him dad!” he yelled.

Andrew didn’t respond. He slashed at Tyne’s chest and a barrier blocked the attack. There was a flash of light, a magical burst directed at Andrew. Andrew leaned back, a small cut appearing on his chin. Flashes of light protected Tyne any time the three tried to attack. Tyne had learned something from his fight with Lionel, he was far better prepared.

Andrew’s fist glowed as he punched the ground. The area around his fist exploded. Tyne leapt back. Marco grinned. “Now!” he yelled.

The ground under Tyne’s feet gave way. The wizard’s eyes widened as he fell into the pit. The walls around him were all rock and, with a loud groaning sound, closed in on him, crashing into each other. Cost grinned, concentrating as he unleashed one last extra bit of force behind the magic, crushing Tyne further.

Tyne realized just too late that it had been a trap, that the three were distracting him, goading him into the spot. There was a burst of energy and Tyne burst out of the trap angrily. As soon as he did, a blast of energy struck him from up front. He fell back, sliding along the ground before he felt a hand on his forehead. Costanza grinned down at him and his hand began to burn. Tyne’s eyes glowed and he disappeared, reappearing in the corner of the room. Krivin was waiting for him. Krivin slashed and Tyne hastily blocked before disappearing again, reappearing in another corner. Again, Krivin was waiting.

“It’s a basic energy bridge, Tyne. Despite not being a Mystic, you should know the spell. Krivin can teleport, I’ve bound your energy to his. You try to teleport away, he’ll follow,” Costanza grinned.

Tyne scowled. “A mystic,” he grunted to himself.

Costanza grinned. “And a soldier.”

The sound of several gunshots echoed through the room. Scott and Kevin both fired, Marco soon joining. Tyne threw his hands in the air and the ground fractured, a sphere of rock forming around him. Tyne tried to tap into his powers, to create an alternate dimension, but Costanza was concentrating on a counter spell, making it difficult to tap into anything powerful. He’d have to break his concentration. Marcus and Andrew nodded at each other and two bursts of energy fractured the rock, sending Tyne backwards. Tyne grinned as a burst of fire shot out at the Freedom Fighters. Andrew concentrated, a barrier forming around him, Marcus and Krivin.
Another round of gunfire rang out and Tyne teleported across the room. Krivin, predictably, followed, attacking Tyne as soon as he appeared. A flash of magic blocked the attack and Tyne’s eyes glowed. A burst of energy knocked Krivin back. Krivin slid for a moment before charging back at Tyne.

Tyne grinned, waiting for just a moment before his eyes flashed, a large pillar of rock shooting up under Krivin, slamming into his chest. A second shot from the ceiling, crashing into the back of his head. Krivin fell to the ground and Tyne turned, grinning.

Before Andrew and Marcus could lurch forward, there was a bright flash of light. In the middle of the room, a short distance from the unconscious Krivin who followed him as the spell intended. There was a loud rumbling and several gunshots. A large metal dome formed over Tyne and the shot ricocheted off.

“Hold your fire!” Marco commanded as the dome encasing Tyne began to glow.

“Now now, that was a lot more challenging than expected. I may have underestimated you,” Tyne said, his voice booming at them from all directions.

Andrew clenched his sword. “It’s just beginning Tyne. Give up, you’re still outnumbered.”

“How cute, you’re still speaking for everyone,” Tyne responded. “Now now, we’ll continue in a little while. Consider this your intermission; I want to play a game.”

Marco glanced at Costanza, who shook his head. “I can’t break it and keep the binding spells in place,” the Mystic said.

Marcus glanced at Tyne. “And if we don’t want to play your game?”

“I’m afraid that’s not your decision,” Tyne said. A large spike of metal formed above it. “I assume you are all aware of a macabre game known as Russian roulette.”

The spike shot out, embedding itself deep in the ground a short distance from Krivin’s head, barely missing him. Another one formed and began to spin. Andrew shook his head, firing a blast of energy at it, but the energy dissipated harmlessly against a barrier. The second spike imbedded itself in a wall just beside Costanza. Costanza didn’t flinch, but he knew there was no way he could have stopped it.

“Well, now that the practice shots are gone, let’s see who our lucky winner is,” the wizard playfully said as the spike began to spin around.

Everyone, from the great heroes to the trained soldiers, stared intently at the dome in front of them. That moment seemed brief for everyone else, but for Logan, it was an eternity.

He wasn’t a fighter. He barely knew how to use the swords on his back. All he had ever done at Patrick’s was try to mimic what he had seen Jet to, but he was never as good as his former leader.

There was a flash of light. Logan’s eyes widened…

He ran.

***

Logan scowled intently at the man Patrick sewed up. Patrick had just saved the man’s life, but Logan wasn’t happy about it.

“No one would have complained if you hadn’t saved him, Doctor,” Logan said.

Patrick got to his feet, examining the EKG of the patient. He walked towards Logan and stared him in the eyes. “I’m a doctor, Logan. If you wish to be one to you will immediately apologize and recognize the grave error in that statement,” he responded angrily.

“He killed two people and then shot himself. No one is going to be upset when he dies,” Logan responded. “Myself included.”

Patrick glared for a moment before pushing Logan out of the operating room. “A doctor’s role is to do whatever it takes to save a life. A doctor is not a judge and he sure as hell isn’t a damn executioner. Man or woman, hero or villain, young or old, it’s your job to do whatever it takes to save a life, whether that life is that of a five-year-old or of Hunt Antoire.”

Logan furled his brow. “You would have saved Hunt had you been his doctor?”

Patrick nodded. “Gladly. And until you would too, you’re not fit to train to be a doctor.”

Patrick slammed the door of the operating room, leaving Logan outside. Logan stormed off. The patient died the next day, but it would take Logan a week before he would return and apologize to Patrick.

***

It might have been instinct. It might have been a guess. It might have been the way it sounded or the velocity at which the spike spun, but he knew who the target was.

Alex stared as the spike slowed to a stop just in front of his nose. His eyes widened as a drop of blood dripped to the floor in front of him. Logan looked down and the large shard of metal protruding from his chest, his hands gripped tightly around it. He had made it just in time. He was scared.

The metal dome exploded, the shockwave pushing the soldiers and the Freedom Fighters back. The room suddenly became much larger. In fact, the entire scene changed. The walls disappeared, the ceiling raised into non-existence and the floor turned from hard wood to wet dirt. Rain fell from the sky, the drops tapping on the leaves of the trees like tiny drums. They were in a dark forest and Tyne stood in the middle of a clearing. He grinned and large pillar of fire shot upward, spiraling through the air around him.

He grinned through the flames at his attackers. The mystic hadn’t blocked the spell, he was too in shock. He glanced at Marcus and Andrew, grinning. Andrew was just realizing that Tyne had just attacked Alex, even if someone else had taken it. He could sense the anger in Andrew, the rage building. This was what he wanted.

“Now it’s time for fun.”