Fireteam Delta by J. Halpin (popular novels .TXT) 📗

Cortez shouted, sitting up in her hammock.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Not the fucking point.”

Summers ignored her for a moment as he continued to concentrate.

He felt something in the membrane give, and he tried to pull out.

It resisted.

Summers tried to concentrate harder, willing the membrane to pool around his finger. Muscles in his forearms seemed to spasm and twitch as a lump pushed the skin up around his finger. He couldn’t help but notice the smell of burning flesh as the small bubble in his arm grew. Another few seconds, and it stopped.

It almost felt as if it were trying to move away. He drove a second finger into the arm, pinching the strange mass.

Then, he pulled.

He tore loose a small clump of black, tumor-like flesh.

“What the hell is that?” Cortez asked.

“I have no idea.”

Summers watched the thing in stunned silence before the black clump lunged for him.

“What the shit?” Summers reeled back as the thing lurched for his face.

He fell on his ass, trying to swat it away.

All he succeeded in doing was flinging the black thing onto the wall beside Cortez.

Wide-eyed, he watched as she slammed a foot into it—once, twice. She kept going until he put a hand up to stop her. The shoe came back with long, sticky strands of black leading to a smear on the wall.

“Summers?” Cortez looked at him. “If you throw a monster at my head again, I’m going to kill you.”

“Fair enough.”

Summers looked at what remained of the tumor on the wall and smiled.

If that was what he thought it was, he might have a way to fix this.

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“It’s not just me, right? This is fucked up.” Nowak cringed as Summers drove another finger into his arm.

Almost immediately, he pulled out another slick, black lump of flesh—what he’d come to understand was the hamr. Or at least, a piece of it.

“It’s not just you,” Summers said. “But this isn’t exactly fun for me, either.”

In one swift, practiced motion, he tossed it into a small pot he had burning over a torch.

He could hear the pop as the creature dissolved inside it.

Throughout the day, he’d managed to free his arms from most of the alien tissue, as well as a few other places. Once he’d taken the black flesh out, most of the gray skin had begun tearing off of its own accord, though it had often left him bloodied for more than a few hours.

It wasn’t the most elegant of solutions, but it worked.

“Honestly, I kind of like the look.” Cortez watched with an equal mix of disgust and curiosity as Summers more or less dismantled himself.

He’d had to take breaks for eating and drinking, more out of necessity than anything. But since that morning had rolled around, he was doing his best to reclaim just a little bit of his humanity.

“Me, too,” Asle agreed.

“Well, you two don’t get a vote,” Summers responded, taking a breath. He’d managed to remove most of the gray skin from his forearms, as well as, thankfully, the horns. But that wasn’t his true goal.

This was practice.

Summers leaned back, staring up at the morning sky.

“I think this stuff is like glue. It’s keeping parts of the monster on me,” Summers explained. “If I can separate it like this, then I can probably take it out of other places. Like my brain.”

“But you’re literally pulling it out of yourself. Physically,” Cortez pointed out. “You know you’re going to have to do that with your head too, right?”

Summers had thought about that and hadn’t come to any conclusions that didn’t involve cutting his head open, which was an option, but not a good one.

“About that . . . I’m open to suggestions.”

Cortez heaved a sigh.

“You’re serious about this?” she started. “Like, you’re willing to do whatever it takes?”

Summers nodded.

“Okay.” Cortez winced. “But I know you’re not gonna like my idea.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

“All right. Let’s do this thing.”

Summers rolled his shoulders, trying to psych himself up.

After he’d gotten the system down, he’d moved on to the rest of his body.

It had worked surprisingly well. He no longer had to worry about being run out of town, at least. His face was back to its normal human, and hornless, complexion. Even his ears had returned to normal.

He’d decided not to worry about the skin around his torso and legs—for now, anyway. He had more pressing issues to contend with.

“Ready?” Cortez asked, looking more than a little bothered.

She held a small, bent piece of metal they’d fashioned from used brass.

Behind her sat Synel and Nowak. Both had come as a show of support for what he was about to attempt. After all, he was about to poke his brain. Even if he was successful, removing the hamr like this might kill him. Given what he’d been through, it might be the only thing keeping him alive.

But that was a risk he had to take.

“Just so we’re clear, I die, you don’t try to bring me back. You saw what that thing in the city did to bodies. I get up again, chances are it’s not gonna be me.”

Nowak nodded. Pat, Orvar, and the twins stood at the far end of the room with weapons in hand. If things got ugly, he was fairly sure they’d be able to take him out. Or at least fill him with enough holes the hamr wouldn’t have much of a body left to work with.

If things came to that, they’d probably wreck the boat. But they were close enough to shore that they wouldn’t be in any real danger.

“You’re sure this is the best way to do things?” Synel put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s either this, or I