Unity Carl Stubblefield (read book TXT) 📖

energy pulsing through Mengele. The contact with Mengele gave another signature wavelength, this one much more complex. Gus directed the throbbing energy pent up in him into it.

Unlike the restraints, the energy felt like it fell down a deep well and didn’t hit bottom. Mengele squinted his eyes at Gus.

“I don’t know how you did it, but I didn’t work this hard to share this power.” He leaned back to hurl Gus.

Gus pulled energy up through Mengele and held on for dear life. He directed all of it through his hands as they clutched onto Mengele’s arm. As his captor let go, Gus prepared for an impromptu flight, which never happened. He remained firmly attached like a tick. Gus squinted his own eyes as he looked back at Mengele. No matter how he flicked, Gus couldn’t be pried off of his arm.

“Leave… that… alone,” Mengele growled through gritted teeth as Gus pulled on the energy. It flowed more quickly, but the energy tumbled into the abyss and was gone. Still he pulled. As energy coursed through him, the tingle of numbness was washed away in the tide and Gus felt his grip tighten even more.

Tiny waxy worms squeezed out of his pores like blackheads as the energy pressed through him. Thin webs of energy formed all around him, converging on the pair like the electrode in a plasma ball. Equipment was cut neatly in two as the thin threads thickened and whipped into them. Some instruments converted to molten metal as a beam passed through them and flung the liquefied material to spatter and congeal on the walls, floor, and other tables.

The flow pounded onto Gus like a waterfall, battering against him. He held onto Mengele who somehow managed to absorb all of it without any signs of stopping. The roar of it flowing around him began to be deafening and everything in the room began to be bathed in a ruby light, like a darkroom, which continued to darken, masking the contrast of everything except the arm in front of Gus and the glowing golden eyes of Mengele which burned through the crimson tide.

A profound sense of smallness overcame Gus. He felt like a dust mote next to the sun, engulfed in its utter immensity. He knew if he let go, he would be swept away. The energy coursed through him, burning away any dross which was lost into the pit. He expected to be consumed at any moment, to puff into a tiny plume of smoke, but after what felt like an eternity, the energy finally started to lessen. He blinked as he began to see his surroundings again. Without everything washed out he could see that the well was nearly full, in fact, as it was filling too fast.

Unable to slow the flow, energy hit the event horizon, and there was only red as the energy surpassed its limits.

Chapter Seventy-Nine

Less Talk, More Rokk

Darik refused to close his eyes or look away as Razor glared back at him. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Though he felt like a slab of concrete was lying on his chest, he tempered his expression to show the least discomfort. From his vantage, the uneven steps between his sternum and separated ribs appeared sickeningly obvious.

Razor raised his leg high, pausing for effect. He was relishing every moment of his nemesis’ demise. With a swift movement, he fell completely on his butt, eyes bulging. Like a ninja, Darik saw the sunlight play across Prime’s helmet as she ducked and sliced with a weapon he had never seen before. It looked like lightning on a stick and as it swiped through the legs of the supers around him, they fell to the ground.

One of them raised a huge sledge, swinging it in an arc to crack Prime in the head while her back was turned. Darik tried to yell a warning but it came out only as a weak croak. The crackling sword glided and sailed through another super’s waist and he went boneless and fell on his face.

Right before the hammer crashed, Prime turned, ducked slightly, and swiped through the arm holding the weapon at the shoulder. Then she continued on, working her way through the circle as if she had choreographed the entire thing. As she left his field of vision, Darik saw the super’s arm go limp, the momentum of the swing carrying the weapon directly at him now.

There was a loud *thud* as the sledgehammer that had crushed his chest landed inches from his head, and he was covered with a plume of dirt. Spitting and blinking, he tried to wipe his eyes, but the attempt at moving his arms made stars burst across his vision and took his breath away. He let his arms fall back to his sides as he gasped for air.

Something soft smacked his face and bounced over him. He was briefly irritated until he saw the small red gel bounce over him to land on the ground. As he gingerly turned his head, he also saw that Razor was army crawling toward him, a serrated blade in his hand. Darik could hear Prime scuffling with someone in the distance.

Darik made a pug-lip and blew hard, trying to clear some of the dirt from his face. He tried to focus on the small gel so tantalizingly close. Razor ground his teeth back and forth as he approached, looking like a feral zombie. Trying to put him out of his mind, Darik turned his attention to the gel.

His vision blurred as he tried to squint, wink, and screw up his face so that he could clear the dirt out of his eye so he could see. It felt like ground glass in there, and he needed to get this right on the first try. Razor was only about three feet from the precious health gel and was making a beeline to him. Closing his problem eye, Darik made his calculations and opened his mouth. A