| Re: The Infestation
Alberio kept watch over the helicopter’s path until it finally began to descend just beyond the next building block. He sniffed himself once; his acute sense of smell told him that the blood smell was still on him, but fading fast. Alberio checked his supplies, if only to remind himself of what he already knew. There was still his sword, of course, two more bottles of the blood, and a knapsack of emergency provisions including food and anesthetic. Chancing a glance to the sky, three minutes had passed since the helicopter landed and departed again, the sun told him. It was then that he decided that it was time to move, somehow making his way to the helicopter and those that got off, and eventually finding out what was going on.
Alberio knew many languages since he was a lad, some that were no longer in use to this day, but the languages—more like a deep, annoying grunt to Alberio—that the brutes and runners spoke were elusive and taunted his knowledge. Quite annoyed and highly pissed off at himself, Alberio stepped from his hiding place and bravely, though perhaps recklessly, stepped into the fray, steeling himself up to his full height to do so. Even so, the half-breed kept his cloak over his head, hiding his true identity from the forces at hand; to them he would be just another brute. It was a deadly game he played then, he was forced to deprive his hand of the safety of his sword in case they realized he was an imposter, but he also had to move as they did and give off the occasional grunt. Overall, it was a painstaking task from beginning to end when he reached the other side of the fray.
Beyond the fray was the selected building Alberio knew that the officer went into, it was the only one that would serve any purpose in this kind of situation; it had complete command of the area for a wide radius as well as natural fortifications, surely the officer would place its capture high on the priority list. Alberio made his way across the courtyard and into the building through the front doors.
Alberio was forced against the wall suddenly by three incredibly strong humans in military uniform, most likely mistaking him for whatever it was they are fighting. Two soldiers held their rifles at the ready, pointing them directly at Alberio’s chest while the third had a simple hunting knife out and pressed it against his neck. So much for kindly asking what was going on.
“He’s not an infected,” spoke one of the riflemen to their apparent leader, he looked at Alberio’s strange attire. In the scuffle Alberio’s cloak fell off his head revealing his wolverine traits.
“O-Of course not!” Alberio somehow managed to shout, his voice was muffled from the pressure to the back of his neck. He coughed twice, against his will as his windpipe felt to be at its limit. “Look inside my left pocket, my ID is in there.”
The leader motioned for one of the two riflemen to check it, slowly the knife-holding man let up on the knife, but not entirely as was military procedure. “What’s it say?” he asked the one who scanned the card.
“Sir! Alberio Cyngi, Class B Bounty Hunter.”
“Only Class B?” spoke the Leader, chuckling as if in a mocking manner. HE threw Alberio to the side, but Alberio deftly caught the man’s wrist and twirled him so that he had the dominate position, as well as command of the knife. He held the knife to its owner’s neck threateningly.
“Never wanted to stand out too much,” Alberio replied to the Class B comment. Suddenly, and without reason, he released his hostage and returned the knife. “What the hell is going on outside?”
The three looked from one to the other in hushed conversation; even Alberio’s sensitive hearing couldn’t hear them. He replaced the hood as they conversed.
“Alright,” said the leader when they had finished. “Grunt 1—for lack of a better name—will take you to our leading commander and he will decide what to tell you. That clear to you?”
“Crystal.” |