Ex-Patriots

“You have no idea,” the huge officer said. “Regardless, I am sorry, sir. We were all on edge, and it doesn’t help it was the first serious action any of my soldiers had seen in close to six months. It sets a bad first impression.”

 

 

“Not a lot going on out here?”

 

“Oh, there’s lots to do,” said Freedom. “The proving ground is the largest military test facility in the world. We’ve barely reclaimed a third of the sub-bases and stations here. Even discovered two no one knew were out here. But it does get a little...”

 

“Monotonous?”

 

He grinned. “I think that would be the word, sir.” He raised his huge hands and flexed them into fists. “Doctor Sorensen’s enhancements feel like a waste when we don’t get the chance to do anything with them.”

 

“Yeah,” said St. George. “I know that feeling.”

 

They walked for a few more yards. The white brick buildings gave way to a series of more industrial-looking structures. St. George caught a glimpse of the distant fence line between two and saw sentries plodding back and forth.

 

“Would you mind if I asked a question, sir?”

 

“I guess that depends.”

 

Freedom had his fingers laced behind his back again. His eyes dropped below St. George’s chin. “What’s with the tooth? I noticed it in Los Angeles.”

 

He glanced down at his lapel. “Oh, that.” He ran his finger along the length of ivory. “Believe it or not, that’s a demon fang.”

 

“Come again?

 

“A fang. From a demon. Honest.”

 

The corner of Freedom’s mouth twitched. “Pardon my language, sir, but bullcrap.”

 

“Hey, I don’t blame you. If I hadn’t been there I wouldn’t’ve believed it, either.” St. George pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, revealing a line of ragged scars. “That’s where it bit me. The tooth broke off in my arm.”

 

The captain stopped walking. “Are you serious?”

 

“You ever hear of a hero called Cairax?”

 

“The monster man? Yes.”

 

“Demon man, not monster.”

 

“I thought Cairax was a hero.”

 

He stopped walking and looked up at the officer. “Are you a religious man, captain?”

 

“Why do you ask, sir?”

 

“Because I’ve tried talking about Cairax with a few religious people and it doesn’t always go well. We can leave it at ‘monster’ if you like.”

 

“I’m comfortable with my faith, sir.”

 

“Okay,” said St. George with a nod. “Max, the guy inside the demon, was a sorcerer. An honest-to-God, Harry Potter-sorcerer. As he explained it to me, he trapped the demon with a special medallion he made. Or in the medallion.” The hero shrugged. “I wasn’t clear on that part. Anyway, sometimes demons possess people and make them do evil things. He figured out a way to possess a demon and force it to do good things.”

 

They started walking again while Freedom mulled over the facts. “He died near the end of the outbreak, didn’t he, sir?”

 

“Yeah, he did. But we all know dying doesn’t mean what it used to. His ex was part of the group that attacked the Mount last fall. Which is how I got this.” He tapped the five-inch fang again.

 

“So he was... what, a zombie demon?”

 

“Yeah. Sounds silly, I know.”

 

“You beat him?”

 

St. George shrugged. “I cheated a bit, but yeah.”

 

“And the medallion, sir? What happened to that?”

 

He studied Freedom’s face. It was a firm face, but an honest one. “Destroyed,” said St. George. “I crushed it myself. The demon’s gone for good. So’s Max.”

 

The captain nodded. “Let’s hope so.”

 

The hero looked at him again.

 

“As you said, sir, dying doesn’t mean what it used to. Your friends are in here.”

 

They’d reached an oversized garage. Or maybe a small hangar. St. George held out his hand again. “Thanks for the escort.”

 

“Of course, sir. I believe the colonel arranged dinner with Doctor Morris and Stealth at twenty-thirty hours. I’m sure you’re invited as well.”

 

He batted some dust from the sleeve of his flight jacket. “I don’t think I’m dinner-ready.”

 

Freedom smiled. “Good thing you’ve got a new coat then, sir,” he said. “Wash up, shake the dust out, you’ll be fine.”

 

“Thanks, again.”

 

“One other thing. Your friends have some news for you. We agreed it’s best they tell you, but I hope you’ll see where we were coming from.”

 

“Okay,” said St. George. He looked at the honest face again. “That doesn’t sound too ominous at all.”

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

St. George hefted the three hundred-pound array of armored plates. “And you say they’ve got over a thousand of these... what, ex-soldiers?”

 

“At least,” Danielle said from inside the half-disassembled armor. “I did a sweep before we came back inside. Four other buildings in this section of the base have the same overpowered cooling units, and I saw two more near the far side. At a hundred and fifty per building...” She turned her head back to him and raised her eyebrows. “That’s a lot of exes on this side of the fence.”

 

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