Chapter 45: Option

Drake couldn’t hear anything. He couldn’t feel the body he was standing on move. He opened his eyes. The liquid he’d poured was puddled in the wound. Steve was as he was before.

Nothing had changed.

“Huh?”

Did the Cure not work? Would it take time to work?

Suddenly, Drake’s vision darkened and he collapsed. There was tremendous pressure on his back. He knew why: Steve’s hand had flattened him. Drake coughed and struggled to breathe. He felt his skull would explode and his ribcage would collapse. The pain was worse than drowning.

My plan failed? Will I die here?

Drake was disappointed in his fate.

Dang, it! No! Survive. Just a bit longer. The Defense Force may distract him. Walt may save me. There are possibilities! Don’t give up. Don’t lose consciousness!

Drake clenched his teeth and yelled with pain and determination. His bones felt like they would break. The Exosuits might have helped if he had one. He could see light.

No, wait. Not that light. He could see the scene of the city again.

Huh?

The fingers had curled around him, and his buried head poked out. The hand that contained him moved up, taking him through the air to Steve’s chest-height. Looking up and trying to focus his dizzy mind, Drake saw Steve’s face. Steve’s eyes once again appeared to stare into his soul. He stared back, trying to find sentience or reason in him. The moment lasted in silence for what seemed like a minute. Drake wondered why it chose to pick him up and stare at him instead of killing him or retaining its attention on the Defense Force.

“Steve…”

Could his friend still be in there?

The moment was interrupted by Gunther Rein flying into Steve’s face and cutting up his eyes.

“Ah! Wait!”

A startled blind Steve momentarily let go of Drake, closed his eyes, and shook his head. Jord appeared behind Drake.

“Come on.”

Drake abandoned his crushed jetpack, which might as well have been a ticking bomb. Jord carried him away. The Defense Force regrouped at a distance, where Drake was given new equipment. Drake was obviously a bit shaken from the incident. He remained quiet.

Rein couldn’t exactly reprimand him for failing. He knew Drake tried his hardest. Fate just didn’t allow a good result. They could only move on to the obvious final solution now.

“Drake, I commend you for your effort, but since that plan has failed, our only option is to kill Steve now. Let’s start with a count of the number of munitions we have left…”

Drake, who’d looked sullen till now, turned his face up.

“Wait. Killing Steve isn’t our only option.”

Rein sighed. “Look. I get all your feelings, but there isn’t any other choice.”

“General, just now, when Steve took hold of me and stared at me without doing anything, didn’t you find that odd?”

“Well… yes.”

Other soldiers started murmuring in agreement.

“He recognized me. I could feel it. He’s still in there.”

“I get that, but he’s a danger to the city.”

“Have you seen him intentionally killing anyone or destroying any part of the city yet, apart from self-defense? No. If you notice, he’s just been sitting in that position. He hasn’t done anything but swat at us soldiers.”

There were more murmurs.

“What are you proposing? That we stand guard and watch him like a dog?”

“I don’t think even that’s necessary. To be safe, we can restrain him somehow. He wouldn’t be a threat then. Afterward, we can talk over what to do with him with the Authorities.”

“Restrain him? Do you see his size?” some soldiers protested.

Although some were intrigued by Steve’s strange behavior, most would rather be rid of him and ensure the safety of their loved ones in the city.

“Hmmm… Do you have any ideas on how to restrain him, private?”

“Nope. Can’t think of any.”

He didn’t think this through, did he? everyone thought.

The military didn’t have any strategists, now that Arthur and Steve were gone. Coming up with ideas was sort of a group responsibility now.

Rein was unsure what to do in his position of power. The lives of the city were in his hands and he was prepared to kill Steve.

“What do all of you think? Any ideas on how to restrain or kill Steve?” both seemed nearly impossible.

“We have to kill it in one go because of its regeneration power. So, let’s throw bombs into its mouth and instantly blow its head off,” one offered.

“We can’t,” the General explained. “Rencia’s Department of Technology and Weapons never made more normal bombs after we used them up in the Gorilla incident. And the Armory has been nearly out of laser shooter ammo since the Expedition; we just used the last ones.”

The morale in the group suddenly dropped. They had almost nothing effective to work with.

Rein cursed his lack of charisma and motivating words.

“We do have gunpowder in the Armory, however,” he tried to bring hope. “We just don’t know how to dump sacks of gunpowder into Steve’s mouth.”

Walt spoke up: “I, for one, side with killing Steve to be on the safe side. It’s what I signed up in the Defense Force to do: kill Mayhems to keep Rencia safe.

“I promised myself since the Gorilla incident that I would make sure to do this no matter what.” He turned to Drake. “I know you’ve made a promise to yourself, but if your interests conflict with mine, I’m sorry to say this, but that will make us enemies.”

“Walt…” Drake said.

“Hey!” a voice came from below.

The soldiers descended. The source was Drake’s father, Bill.

“You all, look there.” He pointed to Steve. “By leaning, he’s putting pressure on Walls. They’re supposed to be sturdy, but I’m not sure they can take the stress of his weight.”

The soldiers watched Steve with worry. If the Walls broke down, that would be it for humanity. Mayhems could enter the city as they pleased.

“We have to kill it.”

“Yes! Someone, think of a plan, quickly!”

Everyone panicked. Killing Steve looked to be the only option. Drake was the only one who viewed the situation in a different light.

“Wait, guys. That’s it! I have an idea.” There was immediate silence. “The Walls are made of scrap iron plates that are bolted together, right dad?”

“Uh, yeah,” Bill confirmed.

“Then can’t we unbolt them and bend them?”

Drake remembered his father saying something about it being removable a few months ago: “…if it’s that bad, we can peel off the outer layers of iron. It just takes some time and effort…”

“Uh, y-yeah.” Bill hadn’t thought of it much, since it took pointless effort without having the ability to fly.

“Then we can use them to create manacles to restrain Steve’s arms.” Everyone looked confused. “Think about it. Bend the metal plates around his forearms and bolt or fuse the ends back onto the Walls.”

There was silence as everyone contemplated.

“Will that really work? Could that restrain it?” a concern was raised.

“No, I know a way to make it work,” Bill said. “The plates aren’t as feeble as they look; they can handle the strength of the sa… I mean, Steve.”

“He can’t move his legs. Once we get his arms secured, he won’t be a threat to Rencia.” Drake concluded.

“Hold on,” Walt protested. “General, are we actually going to consider this plan?! It’s crazy!”

“How so?” Drake questioned.

“It’s too risky.”

“Do you have better ideas?”

“No, but can we expect the thing to stay all quiet and still while we restrain it? How will we get its arms in place?”

“Look there. Do you see him moving at all?”

Steve was completely still in his position, leaning against the Walls.

Drake continued: “Do you think that’s worse than feeding him gunpowder?”

“Silence.” Rein spoke. He contemplated for a minute. Finally, he opened his eyes. “Form three groups.”

Drake looked up with joy. Walt and others protested but were silenced. Everyone split into groups and began their work.

* * *

“There we go. Now, push!” Commander Sarah ordered.

Thirty soldiers holding onto a patchwork of metal plates used their all effort and the force of their jetpacks to bend the patchwork around Steve’s right forearm.

“How… is it… so… firm?!” one grunted.

As soon as the end reached the Wall, a team soldered it there. Everyone finally let go and breathed.

“This would have been impossible without the Exosuits!”

Everyone agreed. They were sweating due to the heat produced by the jetpacks at full power, despite it being a chilly Autumn day.

“Good work, guys,” Drake said, cheerfully. “Now that we’ve gotten both the arms pinned, we can regroup with the other team.”

He looked away from the Walls. In front of Steve was the second group, led by Commander Eric, who was in charge of keeping an eye on it while the first one restrained its arms. As a surprise to some, Steve didn’t struggle during the operation. His limp arms were easy to put into place. However, in case Steve decided to attack the soldiers working there, the second team would have attacked him to gain his attention.

“Alright then. We’re pretty much set,” Drake said, feeling accomplished.

“Yes, but let’s just test them and make sure they work properly,” Commander Sarah said.

She gave a signal to the other group. They attacked Steve. Steve roared and tried to swing his arms at them, failing to move them out of their secured places. He could just swing his head around in anger and try to chomp on the soldiers. Drake felt this was a bit cruel, but was aware that it was necessary to ensure the mechanism worked.

“Let’s report to General Rein and then go to the Authorities,” Drake suggested. “Come to think of it, where is the General?”

“He’s with group three,” Jord answered.

Group three? He did ask us to split into three groups, but what’s the third one doing?

It was then that Drake spotted Rein and a few others flying in the sky towards the battlefield. He flew up to them.

“Where have you been, General? We’re pretty much wrapped up with things here.”

Rein turned around. “Watch.”

Behind him, Drake could see four helicopters flying toward them. Attached under three of them, on ropes, was a giant funnel made of the same patchwork scrap metal plates. The fourth carried many sacks tied together.

“Huh? What’s this?”

The helicopters carried the funnel over Steve. Steve’s mouth was constantly open and gasping for air.

“Drop it,” Rein ordered through a radio transceiver.

The helicopters lowered the funnel, and soldiers guided it into Steve’s mouth. Steve tried to resist, but the funnel went in, and his head was now upturned.

“General! What’s going on?!” Drake had a bad feeling.

“Steve is too unpredictable; it’s too much of a risk,” Rein explained. “We need to be able to easily kill it if it starts destroying the city.

“Those sacks over there contain all the gunpowder from the Armory. Walt and I made a plan: to use the Wall’s plates to funnel the gunpowder into Steve’s mouth. If we light that, its head will be blown clean off.”

“Blown off… You’re really ready to kill him, huh?” Drake looked down. He couldn’t protest. The measures they were taking were understandable.

Soldiers unloaded the sacks of gunpowder from the final helicopter and dumped them into the funnel, careful not to accidentally light them with their jetpack exhaust. Steve’s eyes widened and it shook its head.

“Darn Mayhem. Quit moving around. We can’t pour this stuff in properly; some’s falling out,” the soldiers complained.

While they were loading the gunpowder, Steve continued to struggle, but couldn’t use its arms. Towards the end of the load, Steve became more restless in its movements. Its breathing through its nose became loud and quick.

“Hold on. His breathing is heavy. He’s suffocating!”

“Of course he is. We blocked his mouth.”

Steve rocked back and forth. It was a scary sight and everyone was worried about whether the restraints would hold. It hit its back against the Walls with a massive boom each time.

Eventually, there was a new sound: thuk! Something broke. Steve hit the Walls again. Another sound. Everyone’s hearts sank as they realized what they were hearing: the Walls were starting to crack.