෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

෴WD40෴

෴Tim ‘Triton’ Perez෴

෴Chris ‘Chrome’ Johanssen෴

෴Rachel ‘Razor’ Messerschmitt෴

෴Roland 'Rex' Koenig෴

෴Cade 'Barricade' Williams෴

෴෴෴෴෴෴

Mobilize

෴෴෴෴෴෴

The South Creek Gun Club tactical range was built to be able to host several groups of shooters each fielding a single shooter at a time. Today the whole tactical range was booked and reconfigured to the liking of a single small group of shooters. They had chained the entrance shut and the distance from the rest of the gun club acted as a barrier to prying eyes.

Four men and one woman stood in the relative silence of an active shooting range. All five of them were dressed in similar durable outfits, with enough dirt and dust on them to show they’d been playing outside and on the ground for most of the afternoon.

One of the men stood at the firing line, facing the other four, holding his rifle at low ready as the targets behind him raised into position. He reached for his ability and felt the cooling numbness flow over his body as he turned into the smooth steel version of himself codenamed Chrome. He shifted his footing a bit to compensate for the significant increase in weight.

Tim looked at his friend’s shiny form. “Might wanna lose those boots. You remember what happened to the last pair you ran in.”

Chrome nodded, and gingerly walked over to the steel bench and sat down over one of the concrete support columns. Once the boots were off, he returned to the firing line and got ready.

Rachel hit the trigger on the shot clock.

A few seconds later, the buzzer sounded. Chrome raised the rifle and fired eight shots. Satisfied with the hits, he sprinted toward a dirt barricade, only slipping a little bit on the dirt and gravel. A few feet from the barricade, he tried to stop and skidded along the packed dirt into the barricade. He recovered and opened fire on the next targets. Ten shots later he was running for the second advance position barricade. He tried to stop further from cover but still skidded into the next pile of dirt and rock. He struggled to keep his footing and remain stable. After getting his feet under him he opened fire. When the magazine went dry, he ejected it and walked back to the group.

The four of his teammates were falling down laughing. Chrome released his ability and let the metal form recede.

He shook his head and waited for them to stop laughing.

“Ok, how bad is it?” He said.

Rachel got her laughing under control. “I’m sorry Chrom-Chris. It’s.. well let’s just say you know how my time gets a lot better when I use my ability?

Chris nodded. “Yeah, you Razor on up and you’re ridiculously fast.”

She shrugged. “Apparently let’s just say your heavy metal act is more power ballad than speed metal. You were actually slower that round. Even Triton blew that time out of the water and he’s usually the slow one.”

Tim, a taller man with sandy blond hair jumped in. “Hey now, my ability doesn't make me any faster!”

Chris shook his head. “I call bullshit on that Triton, you’re bulletproof, knife proof, shockproof, and you’re just about as strong as my metal form, but you aren’t any heavier. Of course you’re gonna be faster.” He looked over at one of the other men. “And don’t even start with me Rex, I know you can just engage all the targets at every range and never miss. Makes me wonder if you’re sure you don’t have an ability.”

Tim laughed. “He’s got you there Koenig.”

Koenig shrugged. “Hey, I don’t have any nifty powers like you guys. I just rock the front sight harder than you do. I mean, look at Razor here. She’s so fast, but still misses a third of her shots because she’s rushing things. At least Cade and I have good marksmanship scores.”

Cade lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, don’t suck me into this one. All I can do besides shoot is raise these barriers.”

Rachel slapped his back. “All you can do? Cade, what are you talking about? We love you! Without ‘Cade the Barricade’ having our back, I’ll bet every one of us would have taken a hit at some point. Armor or not, I don’t like getting shot!”

Chris grabbed the shot timer from Rachel and looked at it. He handed it back without speaking.

Triton crowded in and put his arm around his shoulder. “Don’t feel bad bro, we’ll get you trained up and you’ll be as fast as ever.” He clapped his friend on the back. “I mean seriously, Chrome weighs 1500 pounds. You’re going to have to take some time and get used to moving with that much weight. But in the meantime, we got your back, and you and me, we’re the toughest mofos on the team, and that's saying something. The way I see it, we should be glad we thought to check this out and you’re not figuring it out on an op.”

Chris smiled. “Yeah alright. But damn I gotta pick up that pace. I cannot keep being the slowest one. That's your job!”

Koenig rubbed his chin. “I got a thought about that.”

Everyone else stopped and looked at Rex. Once he was sure he had their attention, he went on.

“You know how you can turn your hands into blades if you focus on it?”

Chris nodded. “Yeah, It’s not that fast though. I can’t just turn my hand into a knife out of nowhere.”

Rex nodded. “Well, the thought I have is really two thoughts. The first thought is that you might need to learn a whole new way to move in your metal form. Get used to going to three points to do tight corners and braking. Stab your free hand into the ground if you can't grab something. But, what I was really thinking is, what if you added some little spikes, or hooks to the bottom of your feet?”

Chris cocked his head to the side in thought. “You know. That's a good idea. I don’t know why I didn't think to try that.”

He high fived Rex and then Triton.

“Yeah, I have got to try that. Gimme a minute to practice shifting with those hooks in place already. Then I’ll try the course again.” Chris said.

The group booed this suggestion.

Rex shrugged at Chris. “Oh no, it’s time for everyone’s favorite game. I think the masses have spoken.”

Chris shook his head. “Fine, let's get it over with.”

As the others laughed good-naturedly, he stripped out of his gear and clothing until he was down to a pair of boxers. He paused.

Rachel snickered. “Nothing I ain’t seen before. If you’re worried about it, you can always turn into your steel ken doll before you take em off.”

Chris tried and failed to suppress a blush as he shucked his boxers and stepped out of them. “Ok then, ask and you shall receive.”

He turned and strutted downrange away from the group. One of the men called out. “Hey man, just so you know, if Rachel was staring at your ass any harder you’d probably feel it all the way from here.”

Chris stopped, looked back at the group. “What’s the problem Razor, need a little iron in your diet?” He cocked his hip and smacked his own ass before continuing his exaggerated strut downrange.

Rachel smirked and turned to her rifle to make it ready. The other men finished getting ready and approached the firing line.

Chris stood out at the halfway point on the tactical range. “Let’s get this done,” he called out.

He pushed hard and changed as fast as possible. To onlookers, it was like a heatwave obscured his body, and when the wave passed, his body had been replaced by a high chrome steel alloy mannequin that had various finishes applied. After another second the rough and matte spots smoothed out, and he looked like a mirror-polished life-sized action figure.

Once ready, Chrome called out, “Go! I mean catcher ready!” he cut and ran to the left heading for one of Cade’s barricades.

Back at the firing line, Razor opened fire. In less than ten seconds she’d emptied the thirty-round magazine. She ejected the empty magazine and inserted a full one. Then she set the rifle down.

Rex shook his head. “Pathetic. You only hit him six times. You need to stop leaning on your ability and focus on basic shooting skills.”

Rachel shrugged. “You’re not wrong, but shooting things isn’t really what Wilson usually has me doing. I’m working on it. Last month it was only four hits.”

Koenig thought about that. “Ok, that's fair. Triton, you’re up to bat.”

Chris called out from behind a barricade. “Let me know when the next shooter is ready and I’ll armor up.”

Triton flicked his rifle’s safety off. “Hey bro, it’s my turn. Don’t worry, I won't be aiming at your nonexistent junk.”

“You’re funny, but looks aren't everything,” Chris shouted back.

Out of their sight, Chris shifted to his metal form. “Catcher ready!”

With no further warning, he took off moving from one barricade’s cover to another point thirty yards away. Triton opened fire, his shots fast and steady. Chrome was almost to the next cover point when he emptied his magazine and replaced it with a full one.

“Very nice Tim. The timer heard twenty-one hits.” Rex said.

Cade laughed. “Hey, between the two of you you’re almost perfect.”

Razor and Triton looked at each other and shrugged.

Chris called out from downrange. “Hey Cade, you mind freshening up these barricades?”

Cade turned downrange. “I’m on it man, gimme sec.”

Cade stepped forward and clenched his fists. Out on the range, the ground seemed to become soft and almost liquid. Each barricade grew, flowing upward like ice melting in reverse.

He relaxed. “How about that?

“Looks good out here. Give me a second to dig myself out. I was a little too close to this barricade when you were working on it.” Chris called out from behind one of the barricades.

Cade got his rifle ready and took a firing position. “Batter up!” he yelled to Chris.

Chrome used the divots he’d made digging out of the flowing dirt and took a sprinter’s starting position hidden behind the barricade. “Catcher ready!” he shouted.

Cade took aim and was taken aback at how fast Chrome launched into movement. His first shots missed, but he got back on target and started landing hits. His magazine didn’t run out before Chrome gained shelter behind the next barricade.

Rex looked at the audio measuring tool. “Looks like 18 hits. Not bad, but going a little slow there.”

Cade nodded. “I should have let you go first. Moving that much earth fast takes something out of me. I was a bit shaky on target.”

Rex nodded and clapped Barricade on the back. “Shot accuracy wasn’t bad, just not up to your standards for speed.”

Rex took the firing position with a larger rifle than the rest carried. “Batter up!” he called out.

Chrome hadn’t been idle. Crouched on all fours, he’d assumed his armored form with large metal cleats sticking out from his feet, and sharp curved spade-like fingers on his hands.

Rex held the rifle at the ready, his body loose and ready.

“Ready to go Chris? I’ve got the shot clock ready.” Razor called out, holding the small electronic device Rex had been using.

“Catcher ready!” Chrome called out. He began this run with a leap into the air, jumping over the six-foot barricade and then juking left toward the closest cover. He ran low to the ground, on hands and feet, twisting and turning his body to gain maximum forward velocity. His spiked feet and bladed fingers dug deep into the ground. This run left a carved series of furrows and divots in the ground as Chrome used all his strength without losing traction with the ground.

Rex opened fire. The rapid beat of his rifle shots accelerating as his target neared the cover of the next barricade.

Chrome dove and rolled the last 10 feet into cover in a tucked rolling ball of steel.

Rachel looked at the shot timer and hit meter and smiled. “Oh my, the great and powerful Rex has not only not used an entire magazine, you actually missed once.”

Rex grinned and set his rifle down. “I knew he was saving the new moves for me.” He turned downrange. “Good run! Get on up here and let's shoot Triton for a while.”

Triton grumbled. “I hate this part. He doesn’t even feel the hits. They still sting on me.”

“Coming out!” Chrome called out from behind the barricade.

His shiny head popped up from behind the barricade and he walked up toward his friends. Arriving at the firing line, he grabbed a semi abrasive cloth and began to clean the bullet spray off his polished form.

Cade watched him for a moment and then spoke up. “Why do you do that? You told me just the other day the lead and copper just falls off when you change back.”

Chrome pulled the boxers on and then shrugged at Cade. He shimmered and streaks of shiny metal like flowing mercury retreated from his extremities to his core and then vanished from view. In a matter of seconds he was back to his normal appearance.

He pulled the rest of his clothing on while Triton walked downrange.

A few minutes later, when the buzzer sounded. Chris raised the rifle and fired at his best friend Tim. Triton did his best to use all his agility and strength to avoid being hit as he dashed toward the next barricade. At the barricade, he tried to stop and skidded into the dirt wall. He recovered and opened fire. Chris ran the magazine dry before Tim got to cover.

As Chris put his rifle down, all five phones beeped with an incoming message.

Razor zipped over to her phone in a blur of motion. “Hey guys, it’s from Darbs, we’ve got a cookout to get ready for. He wants us to come in asap.”

Cade pumped his fist. “Damn right. I could use a nice fat payday right about now.”

The group packed up the equipment and weaponry and were on their way to the office less than five minutes later.

෴Raz෴

෴෴෴෴෴෴

Reveal

෴෴෴෴෴෴

Raz woke up back in what he’d come to think of as the holding room. As he was starting to expect, he was feeling very groggy and struggling to put his thoughts in order.

That is a pretty fucked up thing to be getting used to.

Hutch was huddled up next to him groaning.

Raz sat up. “You ok man?

Hutch moaned. “No, I’m not ok. They shot me up with something. Feels like it's tearing me apart from the inside.” He started to cry.

Raz looked on helplessly. “I don’t know what I can do for you. What did they give you?”

Hutch turned toward him, his face pale and drawn. “Said it was some kind of ability treatment.”

Raz stared at his hands. “I don’t know how to help you. Bad treatments can kill you.”

Hutch cried out. “I don’t wanna die.”

Raz felt his mind clear. “Die… Wait a minute. I saw you die! What the hell is going on?”

Hutch screamed, his voice going hoarse at the end of his cry. “Please, can you think of anything at all that might help me?”

Raz shook his head. “No, I don’t know how to help you. But I know I saw you die. That Russian guy and the psycho lab guy killed you. What the fuck is going on?”

Is this what it’s like to go crazy? Didn’t I just see him die?

Hutch stopped crying, shrugged and then got to his feet. His manner shifted to look calm and self-assured. He glanced down at Raz, and then turned away. He spoke again in a totally different voice. “Alright folks, that’s a wrap. He doesn’t know anything we need. Let’s get this one bagged up and clear the room.” His voice turned angry. “Seriously, did no one think to tell me that Briggs is dead and this guy saw it happen?” The people around the room stood up as he spoke.

Lights came on in the room, dispelling the shadows and making it instantly clear that aside from Hutch, no one else in the room even looked homeless.

Raz looked around the room and stood up next to Hutch. “What the hell is happening here? Is this some kind of prank? Just tell me what the fu-” He cut himself off as the others in the room all turned to look at him. In the newly lit room, Raz realized that everyone else in the room was glaring at him with eyes like shiny crimson pennies. Hutch was still facing the door Raz whispered to him, “Hey man whatever is happening here, we gotta get out of here right now.”

Hutch clicked his tongue, “Thank you for the sentiment Raz, but I don’t think that is going to happen anytime soon.” Hutch sounded different, younger. He turned around, allowing Raz to catch a glimpse of his face in profile. A face that seemed to be melting in reverse. The flesh flowed into place, hair appearing where there had been none, in a few seconds the man looked like a completely different person that was much younger and healthier. “After all, you’re still trapped in here with us.” He glanced past Raz, “Take him.”

Raz barely had a moment to feel the hopelessness and depth of the betrayal when a heavy bag filled with a now-familiar chemical smell was forced over his head, cutting off his air. The last thing Raz felt was the feeling of his body going limp, and then there was nothing.

෴Raz෴

෴෴෴෴෴෴

Treatment

෴෴෴෴෴෴

Raz deeply hated that when he woke up, he immediately recognized that he was back in the medical restraint system.

Back in here again? I think I got lucky last time. They’re going to kill me for sure this time.

Raz took a whiff of the room and looked around. When he looked to the other set of restraints he realized the gory mess he’d seen before was still there, just a bit dried out.

I guess I wasn’t out for that long.

Raz flipped between trying to think of increasingly outlandish ways how to get away, and feeling despondent at how impossible getting away seemed to be. He watched Braithwaite when he could, and looked anywhere that wasn't the human remains splattered around the side of the room when he couldn't. Braithwaite spent the time poring over his tablet, computer screen and clipboard pages, his occasional soft humming sounds occasionally punctuating the quiet. During this time a pair of workers in white plastic coveralls, gloves, and safety glasses pushed in a large janitorial cart. Raz missed seeing how it was done, but they easily removed the remains of the other man and bagged up all the parts and chunks of him. Once they completed the solids pickup, they began mopping and wiping up the rest of the mess.

When Raz thought about the implications of how nonchalant and efficient the pair were in cleaning up the mess made by the top third of a human body being torn away and splattered against a wall and table, he shuddered to think about how many similar things must have taken place here, and very nearly added his own vomit to the mess.

Hearing the sound of Raz's suppressed heaves, Braithwaite spoke up. "If you puke in here, you're going to eat it along with whatever else it mixes with on the floor.

Raz nearly vomited again at the very thought, but managed to keep his mouth clamped shut tight, and swallowed hard while he looked at the many small spots of blood and viscera on the floor around the device holding him in place. When that idea nearly caused him to lose it again, he closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind of everything surrounding him by searching for his inner peace. His occasional flirtation with meditation wasn't enough to allow him to achieve any kind of zen like focus in the face of horror, but he was able to regain control of his impulses toward stomach expulsion.

When he opened his eyes the cleaners were gone, with nothing left to show they were ever here except a strong antiseptic odor in the air.

Raz looked around to find Braithwaite looking at him with an eager half smile on his face. "Well that's too bad. I was looking forward to making you eat it.” His smile grew until it seemed too large for his face. “Oh well, on the upside, I think we're ready to begin testing you. You didn’t seem very smart at first, but you’ve kept your wits about you since then. That makes you potentially either dangerous, or useful. I’m unsure which you’ll be. Of course, most likely is that you’ll be dead or wish you were.”

Raz tried to keep a calm expression and meet the dangerous man’s gaze, but he paled enough for Braithwaite to see it.

Braithwaite’s smile grew even bigger. “You’ll be pleased to know that my testing confirms some of what the testing center had to tell you. First off, you do indeed have a very wide ranging affinity. The widest I’ve ever seen by a significant margin. The testing center got the other item wrong. That’s the trouble with using computerized interpretation of the tests. That result of -1 is a code error. It simply means the test didn’t have good data or the means to represent the answer. A simple matter of insufficient error capturing for results outside the expected range.” He watched Raz react to this news.

Raz sat there stunned. The possibility of having some slots could change his life. Yet at the same time it changed nothing, as he was still locked in some kind of mad science facility at the hands of a monster.

He looked up at Braithwaite to catch the man gazing at him with a sort of expectant grin. As if he were waiting for the moment when Raz realized the futility of this situation. Braithwaite smiled happily when Raz’s face fell in dismay.

“Of course, while I cannot say for certain that a single ability won't kill you in some horrible way, just think of the research value of having a before and after reading from someone like you. It makes me giddy just thinking about it. Did you know that the highest risk of catastrophic system rejection is in the very first treatment? Certainly we can hope for something interesting.”

Braithwaite looked at Raz, and then shrugged when he didn’t get a response.

“It’s ok to be a little excited. I am. You and I, well mostly I, could be on the verge of discovering things that will revolutionize what little we really know about the ability treatments!” His delighted expression was every bit the mad scientist Raz had silently dubbed him.

Braithwaite calmed himself. “But this all hinges on discovering whether or not the first ability treatment kills you.” He looked Raz in the eye. “I’ve never worked with someone who didn’t have any suite restrictions. Is there any particular ability or suite you’d like to have as your first treatment?”

Raz suspected it was a trap and stayed silent.

“I already said you will answer my questions.” Braithwaite got up and took a step toward the console where the control to the restraints was sitting.

Realizing he was about to be shocked again, Raz blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Teleportation.”

Braithwaite threw his head back and laughed exuberantly. “Oh that is classic. Yes, I bet you’d like teleportation. I’m sure you’d stick around if that ability came online for you wouldn’t you?”

Raz shook his head.

“Honesty. I’m not big on it myself, but I like it in other people. I’ll give you some free honest advice. Teleportation is a foolish power to even want. Would you like to know what usually happens to people for whom that power is given and properly manifests?”

Raz tried to shrug in the restraints, then gave up and nodded in the affirmative.

“Most of them end up co-locating some part of their body with a solid object within a week. Some people have had this happen the very first time they attempt to use the ability. Other users end up leaving parts of their own body behind. Trust me when I say, I would dearly love to have field agents with this ability, or even any abilities from the spatial movement suite. The reality is that teleportation seems to be excessively dangerous in all cases, and most of the other abilities concerned with speed and travel either require so many supporting abilities that they’re useless, or they are horribly impractical.” Braithwaites face lit up as though he’d had an idea. “How about this. Let's keep that request in our back pocket. If I ever want to see you kill yourself in some particularly painful and usually messy but still amusing way, I’ll grant that request. Got a second choice?”

Raz thought about it and was about to answer when Braithwaite started laughing again.

“I’m kidding. You don’t get a choice. The safest thing to give you is something that won’t turn you into a threat to my staff, something from the grok or perception suites. According to your interrogation, and the forms you filled out at the clinic, you wanted items from the grok package, so that leaves us with perception. I already started the treatment while you were trying not to barf.” He smirked at Raz. "I don't want you to die too early in the process, so I've only given you a single dose.”

To Raz, Braithwaite was the kind of person that saw knowing what someone wanted as a list of things to make sure they didn’t get, so he wasn’t surprised that the grok package was metaphorically dangled in front of him and then yanked away. He tried to shrug again and managed to achieve a slight shift.

Braithwaite saw the movement and smiled, he liked it when his subjects started to realize the futility of it all. “I do have some genuinely good news for you.” His expression somber. “If you’re still alive in the morning, I’ll assume you might last a few days and put you into a room. I've got more than just you to examine, so I'll be needing this equipment if you're not going to melt right away. I imagine being in the active lab restraint system isn’t the most comfortable way to spend the night, but it could be worse, and it might still be.” He stopped at the door and turned the room lights down till Raz could barely see. “I do hope you’re still alive in the morning. I look forward to hearing about your experience.”