Here's the next chapter, I hope you like it. Please let me know at purplejubilee17@gmail.com. Thank you so much to my supporters on Patreon, Astro, Dan, David, Jay, Julian, Mark, NightHawk, and Richard. They help make this possible. Check out patreon.com/purplejubilee for more.
As always think about giving Nifty a donation. They deserve it for all their good work.
Thanks for reading! <3 PurpleJubilee
After Earth Went Dark: Part III Chapter 10
Night fell on the quiet building. No one spoke much. Everyone had been made aware that the diversion group was missing. Tyr still sat in the upper floor hoping to spot something. Some time ago he had changed into his dark-colored padded clothing with his two guns at his waist, making him look like a shadow perched in the corner of the building. Elliot bounced back and forth between sitting quietly with Tyr and sitting quietly with the rest of the group.
Finally, a little after midnight, Tyr stood without a word and returned to the group with Elliot following behind.
"They have not signaled." Tyr informed them of what they already suspected. "Something must have happened to them." Elliot couldn't imagine what could have happened to stop a member of Aesir. Marcel and Jay and other capable fighters were a part of the group as well. Tyr voiced his concern. "It must have been quite serious if none of them were able to make it to the rendezvous. It could mean that we have been compromised somehow."
Grim looks were passed around, but no one spoke. It seemed like most of them had expected news like this.
"This is not what we planned for." Tyr continued. "And I won't hold any of you here if you decide to leave."
Again, no one volunteered. Looking around, Elliot saw the faces of men who were ready to do whatever needed to be done, and even to possibly die for it.
"We will make our strike in one hour. I have a plan, but we will have to move quickly." Tyr instructed the group to follow him upstairs to get a view of the compound.
Tyr pointed out the positions of the guards. "The shift changed about an hour ago. In another hour they will be settled in and complacent. I will take out those four and come in from that direction." He indicated four posts near the far end of the compound. "That should be enough to draw their attention. Once the alarm goes up, the rest of you will move in from this side." Tyr pointed again to the entrance nearest them. "Most of the guards should be distracted by then. Thomas," Tyr addressed one of the men with a hunting rifle. "You stay here and provide covering fire. Take your shot then move. Don't stay in one place for too long." The man nodded in response.
"Mark will lead the rest of you inside." Tyr said. "Find the target, eliminate him, and get out. Don't waste time. From what Ullr told me, you'll likely find him on the top floor."
Uncle Mark gave a confident nod but pulled Tyr aside to speak privately. Elliot couldn't hear what they were saying but the obviously came to some agreement.
"When you see the guards start to go down," Tyr spoke again to the group. "Wait at least two minutes for them to respond to the attack before you move out."
Now it was Elliot's turn to speak to Tyr alone. When he knew no one could see them, Elliot hugged Tyr tightly. "I don't want you to go alone." He told him, even though he knew that he could not change it.
Tyr placed a hand heavily on Elliot's back and rubbed it. "I know. But it is the only way. Without some kind of distraction, no one will be able to make it inside."
Elliot nodded resolutely and looked up at Tyr, blinking several times to make sure that the tears didn't come. "We will get him." He promised.
Surprisingly, Tyr who almost always kept intense eye contact flicked his gaze to the ground before giving a nod. It was a very subtle movement that no one but Elliot would have even noticed, but he found it odd.
"Here." Tyr broke the silence with the single word as he pulled something out of his belt. It was a small handgun. "Safety." He instructed, showing Elliot the mechanism near the trigger. "Magazine release." He handed the weapon to Elliot. "Keep it with you."
Elliot looked down at the gun in his hand and shivered. He remembered the first time that Tyr had handed him a weapon all those months ago in the forest. This time would be different though.
"It's almost time." Tyr said abruptly. He handed Elliot several extra magazines for the firearm. Looking over his shoulder quickly, he then leaned down to give Elliot a kiss on the cheek.
Making sure that the plan was clear with everyone one last time, Tyr said his final goodbyes before slipping out into the night. Elliot watched him go with a lump in his throat but was determined not to cry in front of the other men. Uncle Mark put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"He'll be back." He said with quiet assurance. "He's a survivor."
Elliot nodded, trying to project confidence. The five remaining members sat around the windows on the upper floor, watching the guards posted that Tyr had indicated.
The night was quiet, and the tension was mounting by the second as Elliot looked for any sign of Tyr. He knew that Tyr would only be seen if and when he wanted to be, but that didn't stop him from trying.
Suddenly, as though struck simultaneously by a silent invisible force, the four guards Tyr had pointed out dropped to the ground.
"There!" Mark whispered intensely. "Everyone, get ready!"
Elliot made sure that his little gun was safely tucked into his belt. The other men checked their weapons as well. Watching out the window they could see several more guards go down, but they still could not see Tyr.
As Tyr predicted, attention was indeed being drawn, slowly but deliberately. The silent and methodical way that the guards were dispatched allowed for almost a full minute before the compound truly came alive. Shouts echoed across the empty street and suddenly a shrill alarm began to sound.
"That's almost two minutes." Mark said. "Tom, are you ready?"
The man gave a salute and picked up a position near one corner with his hunting rifle pointed out the window.
"Elliot, come with me, I need your help." Mark instructed.
Elliot nodded and followed his uncle deeper into the building. As they came to a series of rooms, Mark pointed into one of them, dark and unlit with no windows.
"Quickly, in here." His uncle urged.
Not pausing to think about what could possibly need doing in this obvious dead-end of a room, Elliot led the way into the pitch blackness. What little light there was coming in from the hallway suddenly narrowed and then disappeared as the door closed behind him. Elliot turned in shock as he heard something heavy being moved outside.
"Uncle Mark!?" Elliot rushed back to the door and tried to push it open. It wouldn't budge.
"I'm sorry, Elliot..." His uncle spoke heavily from the other side of the door. "I promised I'd keep you safe. I know if I told you to stay behind you wouldn't listen."
The realization came crashing down on Elliot. "...Tyr knew... didn't he?"
There was a long silence from the other side of the door. "I'm sorry." Mark repeated. "I'll be back for you. But if not, I left my pack in the corner with some food. It should last until you can find a way out or get someone's attention."
"No!" Elliot shouted pounding on the door. "I can help!" There was no response. "Come back! I can help you! I have to!" He threw his shoulder into the door repeatedly but to no avail. He felt tears of helpless anger stinging his eyes.
Then suddenly the noise started. It began with the loud crack of Thomas's hunting rifle going off in the other room. This was followed by the muffled sounds of gunfire from outside as well as the shouts of men surprised by a sudden attack.
Elliot continued to pound on the door, screaming out his frustration and rage at his uncle and at Tyr for tricking him like this. The loud shots from the rifle continued to ring out as Elliot's desperation mounted.
Moving away from the door, Elliot felt around the room with his hands, searching for another way out or something that might help him escape. He found an old desk and a chair, covered in dust, and a tipped-over filing cabinet, then found Uncle Mark's pack in the corner. Frantically, he rifled through it but found only the ration bars and two bottles of water. Screaming again, Elliot slammed his fist against the wall, bruising his knuckle. The impact however made the wall shake and knocked a small chip out of the drywall.
Almost instantly the tears dried up as Elliot's motivated logical side took over. Obviously, the wall was not completely stable if a hit like that had damaged it. His hand throbbed already, and he knew that if he tried to throw punches at it like that then he would just end up hurting himself.
Scrambling back to the desk, Elliot began searching on top and in the drawers. There was an old computer, its monitor long since shattered, a stapler, a mug, and a paperweight glass ball. Without a second thought, Elliot grabbed the weight and began smashing it against the wall. He made some progress, chipping away, and the whole wall shook with every hit, but eventually after one particularly violent strike, the paperweight cracked and fell in half.
Turning again to the broken desk, Elliot continued rummaging through the drawers but found nothing. Elliot knew he could possibly use one of his knives but doing so would likely damage the blade, and in the darkness, he could easily hurt himself as well. Then he remembered the gun Tyr had given him. Pulling it out he carefully loaded it and held it to the wall near the damaged section.
The shot was loud, and the kickback nearly wrenched the gun from his hand, but it worked. When he ran his fingers across the wall, he found the hole. Peering into it he could see faint light from the room on the other side. He repeated the process again some distance from the first hole, then two more times forming a small square.
Elliot lay on his back on the dusty floor and kicked the heel of his boot hard into the center of the damaged wall. It cracked and loosened. With another forceful kick, he felt part of his boot break through.
With a cry of triumph, Elliot continued kicking at the wall, weakening it and widening the hole. As small and lean as he was, it did not take much to make the opening big enough for him to wiggle through. And then he was free, in the adjoining office with the door still open.
As he crawled out, Elliot realized that the commotion outside had died down considerably. There were still shouts and occasional stutters of gunfire, which he took as a good sign, but the pandemonium that had ensued right when the attack started was decidedly over. The sound of Thomas's hunting rifle had ceased as well, Elliot was not sure when.
Entering the main room, Elliot found out why. Thomas lay dead by the window. A well-placed shot had gotten him through the chest. Elliot hadn't known the man well but took a second to pay silent respect before practically throwing himself down the stairs and out the door, pistol still in hand.
Although he was frantic to catch up with the others, Elliot knew he had to be cautious. Simply running out into the street would be a good way to get himself shot immediately. Peering around the side of the building he saw that the door that had been their goal was hanging open. This gave him hope that the team had made it inside. He also saw no one standing between him and it. Several bodies littered the ground around the entrance.
Most of the remaining commotion seemed to be coming from the direction that Tyr had gone. Elliot thought he should have expected that. It would take more than a few hired guards to stop Tyr. His brow furrowed in anger, recalling the flick of the eyes he had noticed from Tyr before. At the time he had easily dismissed it, but now he knew that it had been Tyr betraying his own dishonesty.
Moving cautiously across the street and keeping low the way he had been taught, Elliot took cover behind a stone pillar. At least four guards lay dead around the stairs leading up to the entrance. Three more bodies were on the stairs, but Elliot couldn't make them out. Checking all sides once again, he continued his advance.
The first two bodies caused Elliot's heart to leap into his throat. It was Martin and Roger, the two brothers from their little squad. Elliot had felt for Thomas seeing him lying dead, but these two were worse. Not only had they been much younger than Thomas, but by looking at them it appeared that they had been slashed and stabbed repeatedly. A horrible way to go.
The third body on the steps explained the story. The fragmented and mis-matched armor, and the mask with a cruel grin painted on it gave the Carver away easily. Elliot felt sick looking at the scene but was slightly relieved to see no sign of Uncle Mark. The Carver was dead, the door was open, and there were no more bodies to discover. That led to only one conclusion in Elliot's mind. His uncle had made it inside and was now in there alone.
He only made one more step before the night was suddenly shattered by a massive explosion from Tyr's direction. It was followed shortly after by another, then another. The shock and surprise tripped Elliot as he tried to get up the stairs. Fortunately, the body of the Carver cushioned his fall, though he narrowly missed the spiked shoulder pads and belt of syringes that all Carver's carried.
Elliot could see as he scrambled to a sitting position fires starting on the far end of the compound. The shouting and the gunfire grew louder, and more explosions rocked the courtyard. It seemed like a full-scale warzone had appeared in a matter of seconds.
Tyr easily took out the first four guards, opting to use knives instead of his guns. The silencers on his twin pistols were effective but a thrown knife made no noise at all. The place was heavily guarded and when Tyr slipped in through the gate, he immediately encountered two more approaching on their rounds. He killed one instantly but allowed the other one to get out a stifled shout before putting him down as well.
This had the desired effect of drawing more guards but not alerting the whole compound. Tyr heard them radioing a possible disturbance, just as he had hoped. When they failed to check in, then the alarm would truly sound and draw people away from the other entrance.
A shot rang out from behind him and Tyr's sixth sense almost felt it whiz by his hip. Time ground to a halt in Tyr's mind as his brain laid out the scene behind him. He had memorized the scenery around him as he always did. Repeating the sound of the shot in his head, he located its exact point of origin. Less than a second after it fired, Tyr had pivoted on one heel and shot the man dead.
That had not been part of the plan and Tyr cursed himself for being so careless. Nonetheless, it worked to draw attention, maybe just a little bit faster than he had intended. The gunfire began almost immediately, and Tyr had to leap back and take cover behind a statue. He easily took down the first few, earning a moment to duck into the darkness and recover some of the stealth that had been lost.
Tyr heard the others start their attack and quickly reappeared again, shooting down several more guards to draw the attention back to him. This dance continued every time he heard bursts of gunfire from the other direction. He would appear out of cover and kill more of them only to fade away again before they could retaliate.
He felt guilty about the deception played on Elliot, but as more and more guards came on the scene, he knew he had made the right call. Tyr only hoped that Elliot would understand and forgive him if they made it back.
The sounds of gunfire from the other end of the compound had ceased but the bullets still rained around him as the New State guards tried to find him. Tyr was concerned about the lack of the distinct discharge of the hunting rifle, but he hoped that it meant the others had made it safely inside.
Tyr continued to toy with the guards for some time, but soon they began to train searchlights and high-powered flashlights in his direction. Their shots came closer and closer and Tyr felt one graze the padding on his shoulder.
Suddenly, Tyr sensed movement from behind. Not more guards though, someone else. Explosions rocked the courtyard, one after another and new guns joined the chaotic song. Tyr scrambled to find footing and cover only to see Ullr appear out of the darkness close by.
"What kept you?" Tyr demanded irritably as Ullr picked off a few of the surprised guards.
"Had to take the scenic route." Ullr replied casually. "Picked up a few things along the way." He handed Tyr two grenades.
"Where did you...?" Tyr was interrupted as Ullr pointed to a new group of guards advancing on them. This one was organized and information wearing protective riot gear and carrying shields.
"Looks like we've got work to do." Ullr grinned.
Elliot tiptoed through the open door and immediately found two more dead guards on the inside. Uncle Mark had definitely come through here. Shortly thereafter though he had to duck into an alcove as a large group of guards rushed by in one of the adjoining hallways. His heart pounded as he gripped his small handgun tightly.
When he advanced again, Elliot made sure to peek around the corners before moving through open halls. He needed to find a stairwell. The inside of the building was as impressive as the outside. Most of it was built in an older style of architecture, with arches and pillars. Several more times, Elliot had to hide or maneuver around guards moving past. Fortunately, most of the building was lit only sparingly, allowing him to hide in shadows and doorways.
Finally, he found a door leading to a side stairway. There was a window on the door and through it, Elliot could see a guard standing not far inside. He knew that as soon as he opened the door it would attract the man's attention. Elliot also knew that if he used the gun then it would bring more men. For a moment he thought about trying to sneak around and find another way up, but he knew that his uncle was up there somewhere. Every second he delayed meant a greater chance of Uncle Mark getting hurt.
Tucking his gun back into his belt and pulling out two of his knives, Elliot took several deep breaths. Trying to visualize his actions the way Tyr had taught him he practiced in his mind. Preparing to take a life. Then he opened the door.
As he expected, with the sound of the door, the guard turned to investigate. Seeing Elliot, he yelled something and began to raise his gun. Elliot whipped the first knife at him, catching him in the arm. The man staggered in shock and before he could recover Elliot was on top of him. The man put up his free hand to defend himself, but Elliot quickly switched his knife hand and plunged it into the man's throat before he could make any more noise.
Elliot closed his eyes in revulsion as the man's blood welled up around his hand. He knew that Tyr would want him to look. To watch the man die so the importance of the deed was not lost on him, but Elliot felt like he would be sick and there was no time for that. He kicked the gun away as the man fell back on to the stairs and raced past him, retrieving his other knife and trying not to think about what he had done.
He had to climb several flights of stairs to reach the top. Tyr had said they would likely find Killian there. Fortunately, there weren't any more guards on the stairs. Elliot found that a bit odd but was grateful, nonetheless.
The top floor of the building had been converted into living quarters for the New State's upper class, but again it was surprisingly empty. Elliot strode the quiet halls cautiously, looking for any signs of life. The silence had him on edge. He felt like it should have been a bustle of activity. If Uncle Mark had made it this far there didn't seem to be any sign of him.
Elliot rounded a corner and saw a double door at the end of the hall with two dead guards outside. His heart rate jumped. That had to be what he was looking for. He sprinted down the hall, his boots making echoing taps in the empty hallway. The time for stealth had passed, Elliot pulled out his gun feeling the anger rising inside him. This was it.
Pausing at the door for only a moment, Elliot gathered his courage. Then, with a quick motion he turned the knob and shouldered his way in, keeping his gun ready for any threat from any direction.
Inside was a confusing scene. The room was a large office or study of some kind, lined with bookshelves and a large ornately carved wooden desk in the center. Two men, more guards by the looks of them, lay dead near the desk. A man in a suit was sitting in the chair behind the desk but... he was dead as well. A single gunshot wound to the side of his head had him slumped over bleeding on his fancy clothes. Finally, another man stood staring out the window, his back turned to Elliot. He was dressed in the same dark close-fitted clothing that Tyr and Ullr wore, with the same array of weaponry across his body.
The man did not turn when Elliot entered but a groan from one side of the room drew Elliot's attention. Immediately he recognized the big body of his uncle slumped against one of the bookshelves. He had blood all over.
"Uncle Mark!" Elliot cried in alarm, rushing forward to kneel at his uncle's side. Even from a quick glance, Elliot could tell that it was bad. He felt tears forming.
"Elliot...?" Mark groaned. His eyes fluttered. "You... shouldn't be here. He's... one of them..."
Elliot looked up at the man standing at the window, who still had not reacted to his presence. He knew what his uncle meant. "We have to get you out!" Elliot cried. He could see at least two gunshot wounds in his uncle's chest and torso.
Uncle Mark shook his head. "Too late kiddo... They want Tyr. Get out. Run!"
Mark shoved Elliot as hard as he could, pushing him back into a sitting position. Elliot blinked the tears away trying to understand what his uncle was talking about. Trying to make sense of the whole situation. "Where's... Killian?" He asked haltingly.
"He's here." The man at the window spoke for the first time, making Elliot jump. "He exhausted his usefulness though."
"Elliot... Go..." Uncle Mark pleaded as his breathing slowed.
"I can't leave you here!" Elliot cried, looking back and forth between his uncle and the stranger.
"You have to..." Mark's voice was getting weaker. "Tell Alice I'm sorry."
"You must be the boy." The stranger spoke again. "It's good that you're here. This will be easier."
Elliot turned back to his uncle, but his eyes had gone dim and his chest had stopped moving. Tears streamed down his cheeks as the anger and pain welled up. "Who are you!?" he demanded, pointing his gun at the man at the window.
"A friend of a friend." The man replied calmly before finally turning around. Elliot shivered in revulsion at the sight of him. His face was badly disfigured with scars and pockmarks almost all over. He had been badly burned at some point, leaving a large bald patch on one side of his head. The anger in his eyes though made Elliot shrink back.
Suddenly, the door burst open again. To Elliot's relief, Tyr and Ullr burst in, guns drawn. Tyr saw Elliot and Mark and his face twisted with concern, but his eyes immediately focused in on the other man in black.
"Baldur." Tyr spat the name with venom. "What are you doing here?"
A grin formed on the other man's damaged face. "Good to see you too, Tyr." He spoke sarcastically. "I'm simply doing my job. Protecting Aesir's influence. Retrieving its assets."
"All this to bring us back?" Tyr demanded. "The New State men are dead and you're alone. Whatever plan you had is over."
Ullr came to help Elliot to his feet.
Baldur's grin widened. "I'm afraid you misunderstand the situation, Tyr."
Elliot felt the barrel of a gun press hard into his stomach. The sharp sting that followed did not make sense to him. He gasped as his brain tried to process what had happened. Ullr's arm around his shoulder relaxed as he let Elliot sink down to his knees once more. Putting his hand to the painful wound, it came away covered in red. Elliot looked wide-eyed from his hand, to Ullr, then to Tyr, then back down again at the stain spreading through his shirt.
The barrel of Ullr's gun was still smoking.