The DOOM Chronicles

Chapter 28: Brutal Deluxe

"Who are you?" Kyra asked.

Their run with the mystery man had led them to a reinforced security checkpoint. Judging from the relatively cleaned-up and somewhat well-stocked nature of the room, as well as its actual security, she guessed that it was his nest, his eye in this bloody maelstrom.

"Falcheck," he replied simply.

He had Collins out of his damaged armor and laying on a cot, carefully checking over his wounded torso. The man grimaced but otherwise held silent as the man worked.

"And?" Kyra pressed.

He sighed, not looking at her, focusing on Collins. "I'm a medic."

"You're the one I saw earlier," Collins grunted. "You wouldn't work with me."

"No," Falcheck replied curtly. "I didn't know if I could trust you or not."

"But now you do?" Kyra asked.

"Mostly," he replied. "Doubt they'd be trying to rip all of you limb-from-limb if you were on their side. So far, it seems to be a good enough test. Why I'm working with her," he said, indicating Weldon, who was standing by the room's only entrance silently. It was locked down, but she seemed intent on guarding it. "She was about to be eaten by one of the big bastards. The ones that throw green fire."

"Baron of Hell," Kyra muttered.

"That what they're called? Or that what you call 'em?"

"What someone I know calls them."

"Where's the others?" Weldon asked, speaking for the first time.

"Pace, Burrows, and North are dead," Kyra replied flatly. "Linaweaver is MIA, but he probably is dead as well." She kicked a chair as anger swept over her. "Motherfucker!" she snapped. "They led us right into that goddamn vipers nest."

"Yes, they did," Powell murmured. He was at the primary workstation, working at it furiously, typing mostly in silence.

"They lured you in?" Falcheck asked, suddenly interested. "How? You seem pretty smart."

"Text only message. Came from my el-tee."

"Huh. So no voices? I don't know if they can imitate voices or not. Or take someone over and make them talk...okay, I've done what I can. You got a few cracked ribs. You're lucky you got away with that. Gonna hurt like a bitch, but the armor will help keep it immobile. So long as you don't try to take the bull by the horns again."

"Thanks for that, by the way," Kyra said.

"Part of my job," Collins grunted. "If anyone's gonna get us out of this, it's gonna be you, Staff Sergeant."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she murmured.

"I've seen a lot of brass in my time, Staff Sergeant, a lot. Worked with a lot of 'em. You're more competent, brave, and smart than ninety percent of the people who outrank you I've seen in my life. I can tell that much so far. We're fucked. Not us, but the human race. And the only way we're ever going to get unfucked is eggheads who have a soul and warriors like you and Linaweaver and those pals of yours you mentioned."

"He's right," Weldon said.

"I know," Kyra replied quietly, then forced away the feelings of dread and despair that seemed to wash over her like a high tide, "but that's for later. Right now, we still have a job to do. Falcheck, how much do you know about our mission?"

"Weldon filled me in," he replied, stepping back. He pointed to a nearby locker. "You'll find some replacement armor in there."

"Thanks," Collins muttered. It was weird to see him humbled and sane after coming across him in a half-berserk state. Slowly, he got to his feet. He was shirtless now and she could see a huge bruise on his chest, and another on his back as he turned around. He carefully pulled his uniform back on and then made for the locker.