Big Assed Global Kegger by Michael Todd & Michael Anderle

Author:Michael Todd & Michael Anderle [Todd, Michael & Anderle, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2019-01-05T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Chris and Wallace were already walking. Already, without having spoken or really thought about what they did, heading back to camp. It was the only thing to do.

“Okay,” Chris started, tramping through the shadowy jungle as he tried to keep up with his friend, “what the hell just happened?” Rational, coherent thought was returning. He felt chilled and hollow and shaky. “What in God’s name were you doing, Wallace?”

“The hell do you think I was doing?” Wallace growled back. “Fulfilling the second parameter of our mission.”

“You were about to kill her! For fuck’s sake, man!” Chris ran a hand through his hair as he stomped through weeds and clambered over mossy fallen logs.

Wallace’s longer and cybernetically-augmented legs allowed him to outpace his companion. He paused for a moment to permit Chris to catch up, although the muscles around his square jaw were taut with tension or perhaps even anger.

Chris didn’t understand. Either Wallace was having some kind of repressed overreaction to Kemp’s presence or there was something else going on that Chris didn’t know about.

“Orders are orders,” Wallace said. He swung a dented metal fist backhand through the air, swatting aside a vine-hung branch and breaking it. Following him, Chris saw clearly the wire from the waist-down apparatus plugged into the back of Wallace’s headpiece almost like an old USB cord. The exoskeleton must have been reading the neuroelectric signals from his brain. This meant that, on some level, Wallace was controlling his movements with his thoughts and will. He was still striding smoothly. Did that mean his self-control was so great that even after what they’d just been through, he had no problem focusing on maintaining his gait?

“What orders?” Chris asked. The parameter he had received from Director Hall was simply to find Kemp and presumably bring her back.

Wallace slowed to heave a log out of his way. It looked like it weighed a good three hundred pounds. His exoskeleton whirred a bit louder, but the man did not expend much effort in tossing it aside. It slowed him a bit, though. Chris caught up to him, put a hand on his arm, and stepped into the man’s path. Wallace stopped.

“What orders, Wallace?” Chris glared up into his friend’s eyes. “You owe me an explanation of that, at least. I distracted that thing before it could squash you like a cockroach.”

Wallace sighed, his steely demeanor softening as it sometimes did when Chris said something true. “Yes,” he admitted, “and thank you.” Then his jaw tightened again. “Don’t keep arguing with me, though, especially not after we get back to camp.”

“Whatever,” Chris replied. “Just tell me.”

The jungle around them was once again mostly quiet. Wallace was framed between two black trees, a sliver of midnight-blue sky visible through the canopy over his head. “Even before that scientist you saved was brought back and started ranting and raving,” he said, “there was…intel that strongly suggested Kemp was still alive.”

“What? How?” Chris felt hurt by this, in the gut; betrayed, almost. Why hadn’t someone told him?

“Hall,” Wallace continued.

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