Not my book, it was written by DragonlordRynn on fanfiction.net
Had to tweek the title since there's another book on this site which is also called Evolution
hopefully y'all understand
---------------------------
The streets were red. The buildings were red. Even the fucking sky was red.
Patrick Kings hated every moment of it. Every second breathing in the foul-smelling air in the deepest pits of those 'Red Zones', every heartbeat he did while others didn't, every shudder that ran over his body when he heard the distant screams of one of those zombies or the constant cawing of those blasted crows overhead.
Patrick wasn't a soldier- never wanted to be one. He just wanted to take advantage of the military by signing up and have them pay his college tuition. He didn't think they would do anything dangerous with him, have him maybe run around Iraq or work in the logistics- but then he was shipped to Manhattan.
To fight the monsters and zombies.
He had seen everybody he arrived with die in front of his eyes- most torn to pieces by those ape things, but many more ripped to shreds by the zombies. But there had also been the cases of friendly fire, especially coming from those Blackwatch guys.
Patrick had seen so many die, and wondered when it was going to be his turn. He didn't want to die, but here in Manhattan, it seemed like the only way out. He glanced at the guys besides him, realizing that they were thinking the same. He couldn't see their faces because of the masks, but he could see their brows drawn together, and he could see how stiff they were, clenching their weapons and glancing around nervously.
It was their job to clean up a street in SoHo. Despite the rather urban surroundings, they were anxious. The scent of rot and death was ever-present, curtsey from the many dead bodies littered around. Many of them used to be people- real living people, but Patrick could no longer care. He had stopped caring about the civilian casualties when he first came here. And after losing about three squads to the monsters, he also no longer cared about military casualties. He was just empty inside, no longer caring about anyone else other than himself or the question when his time had come.
His boot squished, drawing his attention. He just stepped into a puddle of blood and gore. Joy.
Patrick paused, frowning. The blood was...too fresh. The bodies too, because the smell of decay wasn't as bad as usually. Also, the carrion feeders hadn't arrived yet.
But there were no bullet wounds, no casings lying around. And they hadn't heard of another group who went through here first. Which meant, they weren't alone.
"Guys?" Patrick spoke up, his voice muffled through his own balaclava. "We should be careful."
The others stopped, too, eying their companion. Patrick swallowed. He knew that only one wrong movement would lead to his own death through his own companions. Paranoia was as high as it never had been before. Just a wrong word, a cough at a wrong time or anything else could mean that you were infected, that you weren't yourself. Ever since this mess started, they all had adapted the 'Shoot first, ask later' mentality.
Still, they were still his squad- and every Marine was expected to take care of his squad. They weren't like those Blackwatch assholes, who would shoot the guy they've just been eating with for nothing more than a suspicion. So Patrick straightened his back a bit and pointed his rifle at the bodies strewn about. "The bodies", he pointed out. "They're too fresh. Something's torn through here not too long ago."
The others went rigid as boards. Patrick did too, once it settled in what he just said.
Something's torn through here. Something not human.
Not one of these ape things, though. They ignored the zombies and only attacked humans- and they left a much greater mess wherever they went.
No, this had been something much more dangerous. Something Blackwatch wanted them to believe was dead.
ZEUS.
The thing that started the entire mess. The thing that stole faces and hid behind them, the thing that easily murdered an entire squad of trained soldiers as if they were but ants to it. The thing that easily wiped away even the strongest of armor or gunship. The thing that had more deadly weapons at its disposal than any of them could count.
The monster that killed other monsters.
Patrick had often thought about the thing they feared. Much what Blackwatch told them about it just didn't add up. If ZEUS was what had caused this outbreak, then why was it fighting the zombies and apes and snakes? If ZEUS wanted to murder them just for the lust of blood, then why did it escape every time they saw it? If ZEUS had taken that nuke to eradicate them (with which they said it killed itself), why exploded it away from the island, and not in the center of it? If ZEUS wanted the zombies to prosper, why did their numbers dwindle so much within the last two weeks?
This street wasn't the first in this state he's seen. During the last fifteen days, he's seen many streets like this one- zombies and apes and snakes torn to shreds. All dead. Dead and safe. Blackwatch never told them, but they could guess. ZEUS had killed them all, was driving the zombie plague back.
Most of his guys assumed that this thing just didn't like any competition, so it killed everything that would scavenge its own food source- people. For the same reason, they assumed, was it that it defended Manhattan from Blackwatch- it was its territory, and everything inside belonged to ZEUS. So of course that thing got cranky if anything tried to take away what it believed belonged to it.
Patrick believed that there was something else driving this thing. Something that was less monster and more...human.
He never dared to voice those thoughts though, least he got a bullet in the head from the guys believing he was ZEUS in disguise.
"Contact!" Millers, their scout, shouted. They reacted in unison- weeks of surviving this Hell had trained it into them. If you didn't listen carefully, then you'd be dead very fast. Dead- or one of those zombies. Patrick wondered which one was worse- just dead, no matter whether torn to pieces or by a clean bullet through the head- or slowly wasting away, with your mind going bit by bit until only rage and hunger is left.
There was a chilling shriek from around the street bend, and a group of zombies rushed around the corner. Of course the bastards had smelled them. Zombies can always tell where people are.
"Walkers!" Houston, their captain shouted, "Get ready boys!"
It had taken them some time to stop shooting as soon they see the bastards. They can take a lot of bullets, but if you shoot them when they are still yards away, you'll just waste your ammo. They figured out it's safest if you let them come closer than ten yards before you shoot- this increases the chance to hit something vital, like their heads and chests.
The zombies shrieked again and rushed towards them, half-melted faces twisted in rage. Their deformed limbs flailed through the air as they ran, so they looked a bit like a mixture between headless chicken and chocolate santas that have sat in the sun for too long.
Patrick swallowed, feeling sweat trickle down his back as he glared along his rifle at the closest zombie. This one was still wearing rags of a camouflage uniform. It used to be one of them- one of the Marines, but wasn't anymore. He wondered what happened to the poor guy. Was he left for dead by his own comrades? Was he one of those unfortunate enough to end up catching the infectious teeth of another zombie? Was he just unlucky?
Patrick noticed a small zombie run besides the ex-Marine. This one used to be a kid, and his heart clenched painfully. But they couldn't help them. They were dead already. The only thing they could do for them was to release them from this cursed half-life.
He had already lined up with the zombie, when something shook the ground in a barely noticable tremor. It wasn't very much, but it was another sign of warning. Houston swore unders his breath. "Don't let those bastards out of your eyes!" He ordered, "But pull back!"
He didn't need to give a reason, mainly because they knew. Tremors meant that one of those snakes was going to surface nearby. They weren't too dangerous if you knew what you were doing, but it was impossible to take one down with just guns.
So the squad backed off. The zombies screeched and still ran towards them. Houston lifted his hand in signal. Any second now he would flick his fingers to the front and Patrick and the others would open fire on the bastards.
Something snapped through the air at incredible speed. There was the sound of flesh tearing, seconds before the entire group of zombies stumbled to the front, while their torsos slipped off their legs. Thirty zombie bodies hit the floor with wet splats near simultaneously, though most still continued to crawl for a few feet before the loss of blood finally killed them.
"Shit", someone whispered. Patrick followed his line of vision- and froze. Several more Marines cursed under their breaths and clenched their rifles harder, yet didn't shoot.
Anything short of an RPG missile to the face wouldn't even faze this bastard anyways, so using bullets was a waste of time and effort.
It was ZEUS.
The thing stood there, at the other end of the road. Its hooded head was slightly bowed and its shoulders were low, but its entire posture just screamed that it could very easily jump at them and maul them without so much as wasting a thought.
Not that it needed to jump towards them, anyways. Its right arm was still in the shape of that clawed tentacle Patrick's seen a few times on surveillance tapes, the one ZEUS just used to slice through all of the zombies in one swing.
As its head rose, the entire squad flinched and held their rifles a bit higher. The cold sweat on Patrick's back had somewhere along the line turned into ice. His hair stood on end and he was trying very hard not to freak out completely. ZEUS's eyes were narrow, then they flashed and switched color from pale blue to golden. It scanned them for a short moment, before it turned its head away. It paid them no longer any attention after the initial eye contact, and proceeded with easily leaping off the floor and on top of a three-story building.
ZEUS vanished, leaving them alone with a street full of dead zombies.
The Marines relaxed slowly, and Patrick swore he would never, ever again go back to the Military once this was all over.
------------------------------
Blacklight was moving across SoHo, then headed North through Greenwich. The infection was dieing. The people that had survived were slowly starting to take back what Redlight ravaged. He had heard the radio news, had seen the reports on those televisions that still worked.
The Marines were hailed as heroes, while Blackwatch had once again ducked out of sight, removing any and all evidence about their involvement.
Not even Blacklight could drag them back out to the light, despite what he knew. This was their creed: Burn everything, even themselves to keep themselves safe. If he tried to pull at them, they would sacrifice something and hide deeper in the ground. He would have to tear them out and eradicate them all. But he was so tired of them, wanted nothing more than that they'll leave him alone. He never asked for this entire fucked-up situation.
Staying hidden was what he wanted, so why the blunder then?
Why didn't he kill the Marines he just met? He harbored no hatred for the Marines as he did for Blackwatch, but they were dangerous in their own way. They had seen him- they knew he was still alive when he tried very hard to not let Blackwatch know. They would tell about this, they would put those he didn't want back on his trail.
But he just couldn't bring himself to do it. They didn't shoot him and they hadn't been infected either, leaving him he without an excuse to do it. So he went away, leaving them untouched and knowing that the nuclear warhead didn't kill him.
He had no illusion about why he didn't do it. He knew perfectly well why- he wasn't the monster Blackwatch wanted to make him. He wasn't human, would never be, but he also didn't want to be what he really was.
His feet hit a tared roof besides the remains of a water tower, but he didn't continue moving. Instead, he glanced upwards and stared at the sky above him. The red clouds of the infection were still trying to swallow up every bit of light, but right over his head the sky was blue.
Like her eyes. Blacklight dropped his gaze to his reflection in the windows in front of him, taking in his appearance. He was thin, skinny almost, with a bulky leather jacket, faded jeans and slacks, and a gray hood on his head. His skin was pale, and there were deep rings beneath his silver-blue eyes. He scowled at his reflection.
He wasn't human- he wasn't born, but made. Blacklight wasn't anything that should ever exist. He wasn't even male, yet it felt weird not thinking about himself as him. If he was a 'he', then who was he?
He wasn't him, just as he wasn't any of the others he could become so easily. It was so easy to turn into somebody else, and all of the forms he could take felt right, so why did he keep returning to this appearance? This wasn't him, this was just another body he could immitate. And worse even, this was the body of the bastard that started all this.
Blacklight roared in rage and crushed his fist into the window, cracking it. He was not him! He was not Doctor Mercer!
He paused when he caught sight of his cracked reflection. Black tendrils were running over his body, washing over his form in waves of black and red. He wasn't Doctor Mercer, but he had believed he was him. He had believed he was the man who created him. Everything he had done was because he thought he was human. But he wasn't.
Though now, even knowing the truth, it felt wrong to not act like Mercer. It felt wrong acting like his brethren, the Infected, did. He wasn't like them, wasn't like Greene. Even though he could easily take over Manhattan again, make all of it part of Blacklight. It would be laughable easy, too. He had seen how powerful he is, how hard he is to kill, even by stuff specifically made to hurt him. Redlight was afraid of water, but him it did not hurt. He jumped out of it only because he was afraid to drown, even though he knew he wouldn't drown. He didn't need to breathe, wouldn't have to pant through exertion, didn't have to grunt when he hit the floor after jumping from a gunship- yet he did because he believed he had to.
But he didn't do what came to him as easy as breathing to humans. Instead, Blacklight tried acting like a human, fully aware he would never be one.
Yet he tried. Tried so hard. He wasn't Alex Mercer, but that didn't stop him from identifying himself as him. Because if he wasn't him, then why did he care so much for his sister? He worried about Dana, he fought for her, bled for her, was thrown through several walls for her, even though he didn't need to.
Ever since he'd woken up in that morgue he only wanted to keep her safe and be around her for her to fill the blanks in his head, but when he literally pulled himself together he wasn't sure whether he should return to her at all. He wasn't her real brother, and going back to her, craving her attention just felt so...cheap. He had avoided the hospital ever since, not daring to return out of fear that he might attract Blackwatch there. Or might just not like what he would find.
But then again, didn't she deserve the truth as well? She and Ragland both. They had helped him so much, without him ever giving back to them. They did deserve at least something.
Blacklight heaved an explosive sigh and turned to head East, to the Upper East Side where the hospital was. Where Ragland had been watching over Dana for two weeks now.
------------------------------
It had been the only thing he did after waking up from the blast. The only thing that seemed like something he should do. Something he didn't require someone's guidance for. He had found every last of those guilty. He had killed most of the Hunters and Hydras, had greatly reduced the Infected. All that was left to do was to destroy the remaining Hives, but the Marines had that under control.
He wasn't needed in Manhattan anymore.
His last purpose laid in Dana, and her safety.
Blacklight continued moving, stopping on every level to take a whiff. So far, she was nowhere to be found in the lowest levels, in the entrance area or the two stories above that. But her smell was everywhere- and that meant, she was awake. Out of the coma Greene put her in.
Something made a jump in his chest, making him wonder whether he really had a heart or whether it was just a remnant of his victim's emotions. Whatever it was, he felt...happy.
On the third story, he paused. Her scent was stronger here. Stronger and fresh, too.
He nudged the door aside and headed out into the hallways. He walked easily through the maze of hallways and rooms, guided by his keen sense of navigation and the plethora of memories he had. Every hospital looked the same in the end.
He found Dana, inside a lounge room, sitting on one of the chairs with a styrofoam cup in her hands. She looked tired, and was visibly thinner than what he remembered. Her hair stood in wild spikes away from her head, and much of it had been pulled together in a simple pony tail. It looked actually good on her, he realized. Her clothes were rumpled and covered more of her than what she wore last.
He scanned her closely. There were no traces of Redlight inside of her, and she appeared to be healthy, but she seemed stressed.
Her head suddenly snapped up and her eyes narrowed on him.
"What do you want?" She asked with a tired, but cautious tone.
Blacklight frowned slightly. There were security cameras everywhere, and people nearby. Blackwatch could still be watching, and he didn't want to risk luring them here. Dana was as much in danger as was everybody else here. But there were other ways, weren't there? He just hoped Dana would play along.
"I would like to speak to you", he explained to her, taking careful notice of her expression. She was alert.
"So? Then out with it."
"Not here", Blacklight replied. "Under four eyes." He saw her stiffen and her glare turned guarded. "It is really important", he explained slowly, "Regarding Blacklight" Dana flinched back, her gaze becoming hard.
"What do you know about it?" She growled.
"Important details", he explained, "But not for everybody." He jerked his head over his shoulder. "I would like to talk to you about this, though not here." Time to throw the dices. "I'll be waiting on the roof."
He left the room before he heard her reply, no matter how much he craved to stay with her. She wasn't his sister, but he didn't want her to be left alone. He didn't want to be alone either, and Dana was the only one he could trust.
He hoped she saw it like he did, and he hoped her curiosity was enough for her to follow his invitation. If not, then he had to figure something else.
------------------------------
I don't deserve her.
He had taken one step when he heard a gasp behind him. "Wher-where are you going?"
"I don't know", Blacklight replied honestly. "Away."
"Away?"
"From you. From Manhattan. From people. I'm not like you. I don't belong here." He looked at Dana for a moment. "I need to find out where I belong. If at all."
"I just got you back!" Dana protested.
"You didn't", Blacklight mumbled. "You got a thing back that stole your brother's face."
"No. I got you back", Dana repeated firmly. When Blacklight turned, he noticed her determined expression. "It was you who rescued me from that Blackwatch Fucker. It was you who kept Blackwatch off my tail. It was you who chased that monster down to get me back." She wiped a stray tear off her cheek. "And Ragland told me it was you who rescued me and killed Greene."
She stepped towards him. "I told you before- no matter what, you are still my brother. You believed you were him. You wanted to be my brother. Family isn't just determined by blood, Alex. Family is always there for you. And you were there for me." Her tone dropped. "I don't want you to leave me alone again."
And I don't want to be alone. Blacklight frowned. "If you decide to stay with me, you will never be safe from Blackwatch", he told her. "Whatever I do will affect you as well."
"Blackwatch had been on my ass even before this whole shit happened", Dana replied sharply. "And if you are around, I have a better chance of fighting back." She closed the distance and wrapped her arms around him, causing him to go rigid in fear. "We are in this together, Alex. You and I. We will figure out what to do. Together."
Blacklight huffed out and slowly closed his arms around her back. "Together, then", he muttered. 'I am not the real Alex Mercer- but I am Alex, Dana's brother. We don't have to be alone. Not if we stick together'.
----------------------------
"Alex? Are you sure this will work?" Dana didn't sound very convinced. It was a stormy night, and the morgue entrance was devoid of all life. Only Ragland was there- and a Blackhawk helicopter. Alex was currently wrenching off the emergency- and signal lights. The destroyed remains of the tracker were already scattered on the military compound he stole this helicopter from.
Dana had nearly suffered a shock when she saw her brother-turned-super-mutant carry an entire 25000-pound helicopter towards them like it was nothing. He said it would've caused too much ruckus if he had flown off with it, as if it had been perfectly logical.
"It will", Alex replied. "I won't let anything happen to you, Dana."
Dana shivered from a breeze and looked around, while holding her bag closer. She had only taken the most important stuff with her- her and Alex's laptop, some changes of clothes and other articles, water and money Alex 'found'. He never told her where he had it from, but after seeing what he could do, she could figure out how. There were a lot of banks around that were unguarded now.
She didn't feel guilty about it- those fuckers were probably to blame that Blackwatch could do their Zombie Pox experiments anyways, but she felt guilty about leaving Ragland behind.
"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" She asked the coroner. The old man shook his head.
"I'm better off without you two", he explained. "I still have family who has to know where I am and Blackwatch won't harm me." He glanced at Alex. "But you- you two have to get out of here. Get away as far as possible so they won't find you, you hear me?"
Alex jumped off the helicpoter with a heavy thud. He inclined his head before he pulled his lips up in what could be loosely described as a smile. It was all teeth and honestly creepy as fuck, but at least he tried. "Thank you for everything, Ragland", he said, and it was honest. "Without you, we wouldn't be here today."
Ragland scoffed. "I know. I just did what was right. Just get out of my hair. Before I lose all of it", he added with a light chuckle.
Dana lunged over to hug him tightly. "Thank you so much, Doc. We won't forget you, you know?"
"You should be quick", another voice declared. Dana flinched and jerked back, while even Ragland looked more or less unnerved. A tall man with scars and a tell-tale black uniform stepped towards them. Alex, who had bristled, relaxed slightly. "Cross", he growled.
Cross glanced at Dana. "You two are going to haul ass then", he stated. "Good. Was sick of losing more men to you, Mercer."
"Alex- that is-", Dana tried to say, but Cross cut her off. "I'm Blackwatch. I know. But I owe your brother. He saved my ass- and I won't forget it." He turned to Alex. "The Hudson is tightly guarded", he told him, "But if you stay at a high altitude, you might get through undetected."
Alex frowned at him. He was telling the truth, as far as he could tell. But one could never know with Cross.
But he had been an ally through the end of this mess, had helped him get those responsible and against that nuke. It went so far that he might almost call him a friend.
So he inclined his head, but said nothing, though he did nod his head slowly.
Cross snorted. "Blackwatch's going to realize sooner or later that you're gone though. Make sure you've gone off the map by then. If I do anything to cover your tracks, they'll notice that something's off."
"You have to protect your own ass. I get it."
Alex shoved Dana into the co-pilot's seat and took his own place. He paused and glanced at the two men. "Thanks"
He had the door closed before he could hear Cross's reply and switched on the engine. He had disabled all lights in the vehicle to mask their presence. It was very dark too, with the new moon just around the corner.
The Blackhawk rose from the street. Dana craned her neck to look at Ragland and Cross, watching how they vanished.
Alex grunted and turned the helicopter to the west, then tilted the nose down.
The Blackhawk started moving.
They watched, in silence, as they passed the many ravaged districts of New York. They could see the lights of soldiers working even in the night, they could see the occasional gunship pass by them without taking notice of them.
They passed over Hell's Kitchen, which had been destroyed to extreme proportions, and headed over the piers. Then Alex pulled the helicopter up- as far as somehow possible, even as it flew over the wide open of the Hudson River.
Dana didn't say anything, but flinched back they saw the shine of an F22 dart across the water. They were flying at a low altitude, but if they just looked up, they might notice them. Or the radar might find them. Alex was gambling with a high bet, but it was one he intended to win.
He wasn't the Monster of Manhattan that everybody feared for nothing. They would get out of this.
They crossed about two thirds of the way with no problem- until the proximity alarm suddenly blared out. Alex had smashed the radio beforehand too- because no amount of excuses were going to help if they would be discovered. They weren't only trespassing, they were doing so at night with a vehicle that had been garbled beyond recognition. Their attempt at escape should be painfully easy to recognize, even to these idiots.
"Alex!" Dana whispered in shock.
"I know", Alex replied. He activated the auto pilot and got up from his seat, dragging Dana up too. "I had expected them earlier, really", he explained. He took hold of Dana's shoulders and locked eyes with her. "I want you to trust me", he said. "Really trust me. Do not scream, no matter what happens, and hold on to me."
Dana nodded. "I trust you, Alex."
He nodded too. "Good." He turned around and knelt down, even as the proximity alert was screeching in their ears. "Get on", he ordered, gesturing to his back. Dana didn't have to be told twice. She slung her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her bag was safely secure on her back. Alex grunted once, and leathery tentacles rose from his shoulders and wrapped around Dana, further fastening her against him.
Then he kicked out one of the side doors. The wind roared in their ears, and Dana squeaked once before she pressed her face against his hood. Alex glared, saw the faint glow of a targeting missile rushing towards them- and jumped.
He dropped for a second, before his arms and legs snapped back and he started to glide, trailing red mist behind them. They were high enough up to cross a great distance while gliding, not to mention Alex could still push against the air for some extra range.
And, as their Blackhawk exploded behind them in a brilliant shower of super heated air, he knew they wouldn't be able to locate them by radar- they were simply too small.
Dana whimpered against his back as the wind rushed over them. Alex enjoyed the feeling of freedom though, and he couldn't help but prod his sister with a tentacle. "Dana!" He called over the howl of the air, "Look!"
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, having to shield them with a twist against his neck to keep the biting coldness out of them, but then she realized that they were flying.
"Holy shit, Alex!" She gasped.
"I know", Alex chuckled, "We're going to make this."
He was slower than the helicopter when gliding, but they went unnoticed by several F22 racing past them or the gunships on the water. Alex twisted slightly and steered to his left side, to prevent landing near the lit-up areas of the other shore. Dana gasped and pressed her face back into his hood, but Alex was careful.
Still, the other side of the Hudson was still pretty far away, and Alex was slightly afraid they wouldn't manage it- but with a last burst they really managed to land on the dry shore in a heavy thud of gravel and sand.
Alex grunted before he took off running, unwilling to let Dana go just yet. Without bothering to take a breather, he rushed into the nearby woods. Nothing could stop him, and he was moving too fast for anything to catch a good view of them.
When his feet hit asphalt, he stopped abruptly. Dana was whimpering against his back, and he slowly let her go.
"Holy shit", she gasped, trying to stand when her legs wouldn't obbey her and wobbled like jelly. "That was freaking awesome", she said. "But let's not do this again so soon, okay?"
Alex chuckled. "Okay"
Dana looked around. "Where are we?"
"Outside of Jersey City", Alex explained. "In some motel parking lot."
"We can't stay here", Dana noticed. "I mean those fuckers are still going to look for us, right?"
Alex nodded, and headed for the parked cars. "They will, but when day comes around, we will be already gone."
He found a non-discript car and glanced inside. No forgotten stuffed toys or other objects that might hint towards a family car. Good, he could deal with this.
Dana walked to him, frowning. "And now?"
"Now we are going to commit a petty crime", Alex grinned. He slipped his tendrils into the lock and opened the car. "Compared to stealing tanks, this is easy", he added.
Dana huffed and slipped into the co-driver's seat and threw their luggage into the seats behind them. "I hope you have a plan", she added.
"I have", Alex replied as he sat behind the wheel. "Don't worry."
"You saying 'don't worry' is what worries me", Dana remarked.
Alex grinned, but didn't reply. Instead, he started the engine and drove off the motel parking lot.
Leaving Manhattan behind for good.