The Six: Genesis | A Reverse Harem Novel

Ninety

I've never been hit harder.

If my bones weren't armored, I'd worry they'd shatter every time their metal fist slammed into my back, sides, or face. I was halfway out of the restaurant when the first one grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, hauling me back into the chaotic place. It thrusts me into a nearby table, shattering it to smithereens. Streaks of my blood explode across the carpet.

Jason isn't any fairing better. My ocular implants allow me to see perfectly in the dark, but he, and the other passengers, are gripping around in the dark and actively avoiding the startling red eyes of the organisms. I didn't code them with red eyes, nor would they show such savagery to normal citizens.

Whatever this is, it isn't me. The realization sends a tendril of awareness down my spine and I snap out of a stupor quick enough to avoid the rambling organism with a roll to the right. Its foot crashes down where I once laid, cracking the marble tabletop into smithereens.

The moment I'm on my feet, all three organisms lunge.

Primarily used in war, the Syndicates are fashioned to overwhelm the enemy. Humanoid-shaped, with steel facial features on a titanium skeleton, I designed an array of black synthetic weaves interlocked with carbon fiber to create a nearly untenable base. At the base of their skulls sits a synaptic device to connect to the 'worker queen.' This Worker Queen, controlled remotely, can send swarms of Syndicates in battle formations to decimate.

When I designed them, they were to safeguard civilian populations to allow escape, but now, with three of them staring me down with cold, unmoving faces, I wondered why I'd made them at all. Hopefully, they were only following orders from the Worker Queen and not a superior organism. If they were, I could kiss any chance of freedom goodbye.

I am powerful, but even I have limits.

If my guys were here, these worries wouldn't matter. We could reduce them to broken parts in minutes. Alone, unarmed beyond my rusty fighting skills, I was anxious.

"Blue?" Jason's voice was a growl in the darkness, echoing over the turmoil as the train shuttered ruthlessly. Something else was here. "Can you hear me? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. Stay down." I order him as I hit the deck, propelling myself out of the fall zone of the organisms. One of the three lashes out, metal hands reaching for me, but I kick them away. "You need to leave this cart, take everyone out of the north entrance.

"What about you?"

I rise to my feet, settling in a graceful crouch. Knees bent, abdominal muscles engaged and raised on my toes, I was ready for anything they threw my way. This may be the last thing I do, but I won't let them hurt innocent people.

My gosh, if I were with Lewis, would they have hurt him? Roughly, I shake my head and loosen my shoulders. I can despair about him later when these things are dead and the other passengers are safe.

"I'll be fine," I vow.

The words center me. My trembling hands steady and my rambunctious thoughts lock down. Iris fills my vision with strategies, cataloging each organism and anticipating their next moves.

They stand before me in a boar's head formation—one in the center closest to me, with the others flanking it on each side—they're playing to crowd me at one. I can't let them corner me. Slowly, I step away from the stumbling passengers and head toward the center of the room. From where I stop, the organism on my right will need to jump the freestanding bar and the one to my left will need to blow through piles of broken tables.

If they attack, I can easily reach them and throw. It's not the best plan, but alone, it's the best I can manage in a short time. They don't give me long to do much else.