Apocalypse Slaves Pt. 09

*

Well, it was bound to happen one of these days... Caine thought as a gang of the biggest, burliest, black guys he'd ever seen jumped him in downtown Indianapolis. He'd been out of the Eugenics Bunker for a few days now, roaming about Indy and flexing his new body to its limits while going around helping those in need. Minor things like getting a starving family some food, putting a gang in its place, and helping the weak and downtrodden. He walked as a God among Men and it felt great. His reflexes were razor sharp. His vision was pinpoint accurate. His strength increased tenfold. His speed was faster than ever, and he could run and sprint without tiring for a long time.

He was jumped while walking from an underpass after bringing food to a scrounger family. Two of them dropped down to land on his back, knocking him to the ground. Four more, two from either side from him, walked up. Their leader, the biggest, burliest of them all, grabbed Caine's head to make him look up at him. "Big Jim of the Chicago Shooters sent us to say hi to ya..." he chortled.

Then he and his five goons proceeded to play soccer with Caine's head.

Is that like the Lannisters send their regards or something? Caine wondered as he determined that he'd had enough. Instead of even attempting to block the flurry of kicks and blows from the raider crew that had jumped him, Caine reached down to his belt for his survival knife and slashed out to the side. Two goons went down howling as one man's Achilles Tendon was severed and the other had his ankle sliced right above the foot, cutting the calf muscle in half. The other three paused to look at their now fallen comrades in shock and that was all Caine needed to get up onto his feet and shove his survival knife through the stomach of one man to his right and pull upwards.

Blood splashed them both as Caine's knife went searching for the man's heart and lungs. He had a comical look on his face as he dropped to the ground trying to hold his guts in his belly. Caine took the new moment of Shock and Awe to attack at the next nearest man. Caine's knife was the last thing that went through the raider's mind as Caine shoved it into the guy's eye socket and twisted. Then, shuffling around, Caine used the man as a shield as the last raider decided that now would be a good time to quit playing around and to use his gun. What bullets that didn't go into the body of his buddy were harmlessly deflected by Caine's special cleric's vest that he wore that had been doctored to reflect, deflect, and redirect hot lead that was shot its way. Thank you, Henry... Caine mused as he finally pulled his own sidearm and shot the last guy in the kneecaps, sending him down screaming.

Two dead raiders with four left to question... It was a decent start.

Well... I guess that my grace period is over... Caine thought wryly after he finished interrogating the last guy. All he got out of the ones that he'd wounded was that Big Jim was the leader of the 42nd Street Shooters up in the Chicago Hab. They weren't your typical raiders as they didn't have as heavy handed of tactics like the Corning Crusaders had, but they were still pretty feared throughout the region. He pulled his sidearm and put a bullet into the head of the last thug, putting him out of Caine's misery.

It was time to go to Chicago and find out who this Big Jim fellow really was and why he had the nerve to put a hit out on him.

END OF CHRISTINA'S STORY.