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Unity

Henchman Book Three

Carl Stubblefield

Copyright © 2021 by Carl Stubblefield

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Contents

Acknowledgments

Newsletter

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Chapter 87

Chapter 88

Chapter 89

Chapter 90

Chapter 91

Epilogue

Afterword

About Carl Stubblefield

About Mountaindale Press

Mountaindale Press Titles

Acknowledgments

This one goes out to everyone who hasn't found their place yet. Anyone who feels different from the crowd because you have unique interests that may not resonate with the masses. Difference is good.

Find that unique ability to defeat the OP Boss Levels of life. Use that exploit to craft your dreams out of the ether. Be the hero of your own story. Or be the villain everyone fears.

Newsletter

Don’t miss out on future releases! Sign up for the Mountaindale Press newsletter to stay up to date. And as always, thank you for your support! You are the reason we’re able to bring these stories to life.

Chapter One

Here I Go Again

“Pay attention, lazy boy! The others are waiting for you,” Nick snapped.

Gus felt his face burn at the abrupt delivery. He shook himself, reluctantly pulling his eyes away from the calming effect of the rolling waves. As he did, his vision blurred as his headache returned with a vengeance.

He massaged his temples, trying to relieve some of the painful pressure that had become part of his daily routine. It seemed to worsen as the day progressed, and only soured his mood even more.

The constant presence of Tempest and the Crew also felt like they were violating his territory, his private space. They were cordial and well-behaved, yet it still felt like an invasion. Even Aurora had melded back into the group, and once again he was alone in the crowd.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to let everything go when he breathed out. He needed to bleed off some of the pressure inside and training was one of the few ways that seemed to release his tension. But even that would have to wait until after the mission.

“Nick, what’s my status? Any problems from sleep deprivation yet?” His voice sounded weary and raw—he would have to watch that when speaking with the others.

“Despite the Nth trying to remove them, you are producing excess metabolites at an increasing rate.”

“I’m not surprised—the headaches are getting worse,” Gus sighed.

“Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional,” Nick replied.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Ponder upon it.”

Gus rolled his eyes and sighed at the response. “Maybe later, Nick. I’m not in the mood for riddles right now.”

Gus groaned as he stood; there was always a surge of pain when his blood got pumping. He shielded his eyes from the early morning light as he went back into his room and got dressed for the day.

Tempest had arranged this mission, so Gus could learn to work with other supers. Putting Gus in charge was another thing that added to his stress. He never considered himself a leader, but the way the manor was set up, he had to lead or drastically less FP would accumulate. It still felt unnatural and odd that anyone would follow him. Especially when it was so obvious he was out of place and didn’t know what he was doing.

It had also been Tempest’s idea to check the transport Methiochos had used to see if there were any stragglers that could pose a threat to any of the supers there. Since the source of the Dark Nth infection was unknown, part of their mission was to find and destroy any possible vectors for reintroducing the Dark Nth, whether by computer or zombie. Gus hadn’t given them another thought after he had defeated The One, assuming they were all gone or dead. Just one more thing he had missed in his wide-eyed naivety.

So many reasons he would rather be doing something else, but he was best suited for the job, regardless. He stared at himself in the mirror, trying to compose his expression. He didn’t want to come across as weak to the others and had felt like he had become better at hiding the tells. But it was fraying his nerves. He had kept to himself to avoid taking his frustration out on any of the others.

Stepping into the elevator, he hit the button and took the lift to the roof. Wordlessly taking his seat on the transport, he nodded at the others from his seat in the corner. They all linked comms and the transport took off.

Get a hold of yourself, dammit! Gus couldn’t shake the visceral dread he felt in the dark ship, even though he should feel better and more prepared than ever. His eyes played across the interior of the transport as mapping drones illuminated everything with a sweeping wedge of pale blue light as some crawled across the walls and others whirred and floated down the far side of the room. They scanned and stitched together a virtual representation of the craft on the party’s displays, glowing amber lines floating in

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