Free Gamma Nine (Book One) by Christi Smit

watched, simple at first but the constant
shifting concealed the end of every pattern. It was obvious he had
to climb to reach something or somewhere.
    Balance and
speed would be the key to getting through this. It would waste time
if he was trapped on one of the pillars moving on the outside of
the pattern. Luckily, Christian was never afraid of heights.
    He took a good
run up and leaped to the next pillar that was only slightly higher
than the previous one. He landed firmly, still clutching his Kicker
in his hands, scanning the edges of the pillars above and below
him. The shifting of the hall warped one’s perception, blurring it
at the edges of one’s vision, it was almost sickening to be on the
pillars as they moved smoothly by some invisible guiding hand.
    Up he went,
jumping on pillars, going ever higher.
    Christian had
to lock the rifle into place over his shoulder after the first few
pillars, the distance and height difference between platforms was
growing. He would need both hands to help him climb. His reap sight
was silent, no enemies could be detected, no movement or sound
except for the stone pillars dancing around him.
    He should have
known better by now, the calm before the storm was always the most
deceptive. He leaped and barely made the edge of the next platform
on his climb upwards. Christian regained his balance and looked
back at his jump point; movement to his left caught his eye. It was
just a blur between two pillars, something fast, very fast. His
rifle would be useless here, the shifting would break his line of
sight and the pillars would ensure another close quarter fight with
whatever was in the hall with him.
    He caught sight
of a second blur between more of the pillars shifting, then a
third, a forth, and a fifth. This meant big trouble, if these were
anything like the previous encounter, his odds would not be
good.
    At the exact
moment he was calculating his odds when one of the blurs jumped on
a platform below him. It was smaller than the nightmare duo in the
first section, its skin glistening from what looked like mucus,
half the size of a human but similarly shaped. The creature had
extra limbs extending from its back and sides, each of which ended
in a sharp spike. It was sniffing like an animal around it.
Christian could see the lack of eyes on closer inspection. He kept
still, watching the horror smell the air for traces of prey. His
reap sight revealed something terrible and horrifying about the
monster. Its age shocked Christian to his very core. It was
classified as twelve years old, a human child transformed into
something barely resembling its previous form. The Beast had no
discrimination when it came to what or who it infected.
    Four more
misshapen and smaller creatures joined the first on its platform,
barking and snarling like rabid dogs at one another. They had the
same basic mutations with the only variation being extra limbs with
pincers instead of spikes on the ends. They acted as a pack,
waiting for the biggest one to act first.
    It did move,
Christian’s reap sight zoomed in on the movement. The largest of
the five stopped sniffing and looked in his direction. Its slimy
lips parting to reveal a swollen purple tongue, licking its lips as
the others turned to face him as well.
    They stood
there, just watching him, waiting for him to move; they wanted to
play, to hunt him and enjoy it.
    Christian drew
his blade and the Anvil shield from his back, and vowed to not give
them the pleasure of feasting on him too easily.
    He turned his
back on them and sprinted for the furthest edge, diving for the
next platform. He had to separate them somehow.
    “Mister Locke.”
The voice stank of arrogance.
    “I have a rank,
call me by it.” Locke replied, already knowing who it was, and
already irritated with the voice on the other side of the
transmission.
    “As do I,
Captain.” The captain dripped with sarcasm.
    “You hold no
rank in the military, and you are no Lord of mine.”