"Damian," A fat-built guy with hair all over his chest spoke as Damian halted the vehicle. "I see you have something to share?" The guy said as the engine hissed white smoke from the hood.
The gas mask hid the features of his face. His hair, though, was long, with boils on the sides of his cheeks that ran down to his neck.
'Chemical infections, perhaps?' Lance deduced.
Damian shook the guy's hand as they disembarked. The two smaller guys behind the fat one began to provide George and Joe with ammunition. Lance's comrades reloaded their weapons and discarded the empty magazines.
"This is Lance Berkley, son of Erik Berkley," Damian introduced the kid. "Lance, this is Fatso."
Lance waved, snickering a bit as he heard the name. Not difficult to remember.
"You are wondering, kid, why I am called Fatso?" Fatso asked. His voice was deep and bassy, echoing in the empty, foggy space.
"The two guys with me are Lanky and Handsome," Fatso introduced.
Lance could determine right there and then who Lanky and Handsome were. The former was the guy with thin features, and tattoos filling his forearms. The latter had a touch of fashion in the way he dressed, with broad shoulders and protruding muscular arms beneath his thick coat.
It was apparent that they were prepared for the worst: long-barrel weapons, magazines holstered in every pocket, bags full of, presumably, another set of weapons. From the looks of them, they eat Abominants for supper.
"What you lookin' at, kiddo?" Lanky spoke. His hoarse voice matched his ugly tonality. Bony cheeks and dull eyes pierced through the glass of his gas mask.
"Give the kid a break, will yah!" Handsome interjected. His voice was gentle but with authority.
"You guys do not know Erik, do you?" Fatso asked his two comrades.
"Enlighten us, Fatso. This kid could be a waste of our time." Lanky spat.
"Erik is the hero of our cause," Fatso answered. "I will not elaborate here, but we know your father."
It felt good hearing another compliment about his father and the cause he believed in.
"Hero? Well, there are no heroes here, kid, are there?" Lanky bullied.
"Enough, Lanky. This mission is priority one. Safeguard the first package and acquire the second package. No casualties as much as possible." Fatso reprimanded.
Lanky was silenced. It was as if Lanky was a sort of rebel to whoever led them, but his bullish behavior subsided. Handsome was silent, though with friendly eyes. He had no hostility for the kid, at least.
"Why the names?" Lance asked.
"Well, kid, we do not want to disclose our real names. Some of the outsiders have a bounty on their heads. Wanted by the Corporation." Fatso explained. "Lanky here is a fugitive of the Corporation for robbery and murder. He does not hide it."
Lanky bowed sarcastically.
Lance only nodded. However, Lanky's eyes were piercing towards him through the visors of his gas mask. Lance imagined him salivating as if the kid was his prey.
"What happened to your jeep? Did you forget your coolant?" Fatso asked Damian after he released a mocking smirk.
"No, Fatso, it is well-maintained, actually. This ancient tin can." Damian retorted, softly kicking the front bumper. Apparently, Damian was proud to have maintained the ancient vehicle.
"But why the smoke? Overheated?" Fatso snorted.
"It was running at top speed for about a dozen minutes. We escaped a Tier 3 Abominant!" Damian's voice was proud to declare a seemingly impossible feat.
"What level 3 Abominant? We have eliminated them all," Handsome said calmly. Despite his demeanor, he had the build of a soldier. His hands rested deftly on his weapon and his eyes sharp with anticipation.
"A scorpion. It almost caught us!" George replied.
"A Scorpion?! What does it look like?" Fatso's voice was worried. His two comrades behind looked at each other; their body language was plastered with utter concern.
"Glass-like. Black. Seemingly translucent shell," Joe explained. His voice seemed to have an occasional high pitch every time he was anxious, excited, or afraid.
"What the!" Lanky complained, "Why didn't you say so earlier?"
"Why? It receded below the Trench Hill." Joe said. "It retreated like a pussy!"
"It's an Obsidian Scorpion, level 3 Abominant. Didn't you know? You fecking Insiders!" Lanky clasped his rifle, now training the nozzle outward, fidgeting.
"Damian! You fool! All of you!" Fatso exclaimed. "Obsidian Scorpions do not retreat until their prey is eaten." He ordered Handsome to go together with Damian and his group.
They hurried to their vehicle parked behind them, started the engine, and did a quick turn, wheels raging against the rocky terrain.
"Faster, you lads! It's coming. We will ambush it at the peak line. I hope it is not too late," Fatso said before he floored the accelerator pedal. Lanky cursed loudly in the process.
Without further questions, Damian and the other three embarked on their jeep and floored the accelerator pedal as well, Handsome too in the back seat.
"Can you estimate how far the Scorpion's distance could be?" Lance asked. He clasped his handgun again. He could not mask the shaking now. Restraining it, Lance clasped the gun with both hands. But still, it was obvious.
"That gun can do nothing against the Obsidian," Handsome said, disregarding his question. "Here, take this." He gave a gun to Lance. It was heavy from the looks of it. Bulky and with solid metalwork.
"That's a two-shot barrel with bulk slugs," Handsome explained. "You can shoot only twice, but one shot can kill a Level 2 Abominant instantly. Your handgun can handle only Level 1 or humans."
"But the Obsidian is Level 3," Lance said.
"Double tap, kid," Handsome replied, "One to the chest, and one for the head." Handsome pressed something on his left arm, and an indiscernible holographic frame appeared.
It was readable only to the users. A freezing chill had crept through his skin, freezing his spine, as Lance had witnessed the Outsiders run away from the Scorpion.
Their jeep sped up to its full engine might. Fatso had a larger and stronger vehicle, with wheels that could trek mountainous terrain.
"Here it is, kid." Handsome transferred a file to Lance. "Obsidian Scorpion collected data."
Lance watched his hologram from his palm, showing a rotating miniature figure of the scorpion. It was what he had seen a while back. The details were found below the 3D rotating figure:
_____________________________________________________
Abominant: Obsidian Scorpion
Category: Level 3
Origin type: Scorpion
Differentiation: Obsidian exoskeleton
Weapon: Razor-sharp Stinger, Shark-like teeth, poison
Habitat: City with tall structures
Characteristic: Fears light. Legs unable to climb slippery rocks.
Kills other Abominants within a mile radius
Jumps when it attacks. Sharp screech when it sees
prey. High sense of smell.
Weakness: Head, Chest, and Median eye for body parts. Cold environment
_____________________________________________________
"If you can manage to hit the head with one shot, then it will die instantly," Handsome added. "But nobody can shoot the head without blasting its chest first."
"Have you experienced killing an Obsidian Scorpion before?" Damian asked.
"No. Not me. It was Fatso. He shared the information with the Outsiders about this creature." Calmly, Handsome replied.
Apparently, the database for the Abominants was a collection of data gathered from the Outsiders and rebels, and registered them online so everyone in the rebel ranks used as a reference.
"You will know about the Abominants more when we get shelter," Handsome said to Lance as it was clear to them that the kid had a lot to question about.
"Luckily, we know everything about this creature." Handsome was interrupted as a thunderous and sudden noise emerged a few yards ahead of them.
The forward vehicle, the one Lanky and Fatso was driving, crashed into the high cliff beside the road, and the Obsidian Scorpion's feet choked the vehicle as they rolled together downhill.
It was somehow, the Obsidian Scorpion trekked the hill off-road, along the obscurity of the dead trees beyond tracks that they could detect, and pincered the drive path.
It ambushed them instead.
The creature apparently perched at low peaks along the curve and jumped to attack the first truck. It was the only sudden deduction that Lance could muster.
There were no screams, as what happened was sudden. The shrieks of the creature were perceptible though, and the sharp thumping of metal against rocks screeched against the silence.
Until all noise was gone as the truck and the Scorpion were engulfed by the chasm's darkness.
"No!" Handsome screams echoed; his composure was gone.