Callidus Rising | Complete ✔️ | Book 1

5: Victimized

My boots hug the burning asphalt and I can feel the heat radiating up off of it.

How long have we been going? I feel like a freaking pancake on the Insta-Fry.

"We've been walking for approximately 32 minutes and 43 seconds," Lukas answers.

"No way," I say in agony.

It's so hot out here. I'm dying in this armor.

"No you're not, you are jus-" Lukas completely stops speaking.

I turn and look at the small box that hovers beside me silently.

"Lukas? Hey, Lukas," I say. I reach over to flick it, but it flashes red.

I narrow my eyes.

Red? Not clear? Not safe?

The out of date earpiece fizzles to life in my ear:

"It's to the left, near the Processing Factory."

I immediately freeze.

An infected...

I slowly turn my head to look in the direction Lukas' camera is facing.

I gulp.

No more than 300 feet away stands a Victim.

His once bright eyes are bloodshot and red. He is wearing figure hugging summer clothing meant to show off what was once an impressive form.

What were once sleeves are ripped to make room for the deformed boulders that are now his shoulders, and he only has on one shoe.

His legs are veiny and bruised-looking, but the muscles within them bulge like a pregnant spider's egg sack.

Those legs could probably kill me with a kick.

This isn't like one of those super old "zombie" films.

No, no.

Zombies still have the strength of what they were before they were bitten or killed and then resurrected.

But Victims, as I call them so affectionately, are much worse.

They are the effect of genetic alteration gone sideways. This genetic altering was used on our soldiers during the War of Nations.

Our cut-throat scientists injected the original men and women with a genetically altering compound that made everything about them better.

Stronger, faster, smarter, but some things that it enhanced were not better: aging, anger, ambition, bloodlust, hunger...

And when they came back from the war, the younger ones at least, got hitched and had a couple of kids.

Then their kids had kids, and then over and over.

These tainted genetics eventually made up quite a bit of the population.

So when our scientists put up ads about how you could help your nation expand and become stronger with what was known as GASP, Genetically Altered Soldiers Program, all of these descendants went in to become smarter, better, stronger, to help their nation of course... To fight off the remainder of the evil Revolution and restore the power of the Nation!

Something that those scientists did to those descendants did not sit right with their previously changed DNA.

What it did was enhance what was already enhanced in their blood.

So, the smart became ingenious, and the strong became to unimaginably powerful, but the disturbed became monstrous, and the aged became the dead men walking, and their already extreme metabolism?

They are basically starved all of the time. Starved enough to eat basically anything; rather, anyone.

And guess what? The other ones who were related to the soldiers but didn't go to those scientists were able to get this plague just by breathing the air of a GASP subject...

The only people unable to get this were those who were not related to said original soldiers.

By the time people realized this, it was already too late. At least half of the population was victimized.

Meaning that half of us were now extremely intelligent and strong murdering machines with a need to be all powerful and harboring the constant need to kill and eat anything with less than a life expectancy of 25 years.

Maybe 30. Thus the name: Victims... Because they were victims of an out of control government with faulty humane and moral laws...

I stare at him. He looks around 17...

His amber-crimson eyes are glowing with dark anticipation and excitement.

He takes a step towards me. It looks almost painful for him to do.

His eyes are a deep red, and I can see the the burns and damaged melanin in his skin from UV excessive exposure.

The pub must be excruciating.

I take a step back. He starts walking towards me, and then running.

I turn and start sprinting as fast as I can in my armor.

Lukas whirrs beside me and is dead silent.

As the Victim gains ground on me, my armor's blue lights turn yellow.

Now is not the time to break on me!

"Pulse and vital signs show that you are physically exerting yourself, and your adrenaline levels have spiked," a quiet American female voice says.

That had come from my suit.

"Are you in danger? Do you require assistance? Yes or no," it inquires.

The suit can talk, just great. I'm going to die with a talking suit and a floating box that holds more intelligence than life. Fun.

Amazing.

"YES," I yell. A little beep escapes the suit and I felt a shift in the metal of my right palm.

He is right behind me. I swear I can feel his hot breath on my neck.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hey again! It's me, the weird person you tolerate in order to be able to read my story. I'm just here to tell you a quick reminder and also update you on some progress. First off: if you like it, please vote on it! Secondly, I published 5 chapters yesterday including the warning and intro and our grand total of readers comes up to 19! Keep it up!
PS... The picture up top is what I imagined the Victim's skin looking like, you know, only with more muscles. Thanks for reading!!
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