faded.
He slipped away.
~ ~ ~
The water lapped quietly on the shore of the lake, the tree branches hardly moving in the light breeze. The heron lifted off the island, circled for height and then glided across the valley. The area of dark water around the two men expanded but only slowly, the movement of the water barely enough for it to spread.
~ ~ ~
Thrumming beats came in overhead, getting louder, followed by a burst of sustained noise. Spray whipped up around a circular depression on the water, the transport pushing out a standing wave as it hovered like a giant dragonfly. The operator leaned out of the side door on a cable. She took in the wreckage, the downed vehicles and the craters along the shoreline.
“Foxtrot Hotel.”
She swung free and lowered down. Two bodies. One blackened and one broken. She dropped lower.
The extraction target's head was tilted back with his face discolored and his skin ravaged by poison. Havoc's body was missing a section of skull with terrible burns down one side of his face and neck, two kinetic wounds to his abdomen and his left leg rearing out of the water at a sickening angle.
The corpses were lying next to each other, holding hands on a smooth stone that resembled a giant pebble in the water.
“They're gone.”
3.
Thirty Nine years earlier.
Trembali-9 of the Karver Republic, annexed by the Tyurin Republic.
“You know, Forge, if you give a man a fire you keep him warm for a day. But if you set a man on fire, you keep him warm for the rest of his life.”
Tyburn paused.
“At least, I think that's how it goes.”
He looked up.
Forge moaned as he hung upside down, spinning slowly on a crane hook. His hands were bound behind his back and his legs were taped together at the calves, where the hook passed between them. Forge’s naked and athletic body was grimy and coated in sweat. Beside him was a brazier and over the brazier was a grill. The grill's pattern could be traced, in a patchwork of angry burns and suppurating wounds, across Forge’s head, neck and upper body. The air stank of burned hair and scorched flesh.
“We should finish him. They'll be coming to meet him.”
Tyburn’s narrow mouth twisted in a sneer.
“You hear that, Forge? You think you've had enough?”
Forge made an odd gurgling sound.
Tyburn leaned closer.
“Are you crying, Forge? Do you want me to make it stop?”
The tortured man choked in the affirmative.
Tyburn’s voice was as sweet as honey.
“You told us everything, didn't you, Forge? You've earned it, haven’t you?”
Forge mumbled agreement.
Tyburn’s face morphed into pure hate.
“Well you should have thought of that before you tried to give us up, shouldn’t you? Because now you’re going to burn.”
Forge’s moaning increased and his body jerked, though he was clearly spent. Tyburn moved behind the brazier.
“I have to do this, Forge. It’s not my fault. It's yours.”
Forge begged, his croaks incoherent and hoarse.
Tyburn smiled as he put his boot on the grate.
“I’m enjoying your pain, Forge. You deserve to die in agony.”
Forge lurched on the hook. Tyburn savored his victim’s ineffectual struggling.
“Goodbye, Forge.”
Tyburn thrust his boot forward and the brazier screeched across the floor. Forge snapped up at the waist as the grill slid underneath him. He moaned in desperation as he swung back and forth. Unable to maintain his position, he lowered.
Tyburn smiled.
Forge screamed as he hit the scalding grill. He bucked upward, howling for release. The stench of seared meat sliced the air.
Tyburn watched, mesmerized, as the other men turned away.
Forge twisted on the hook, thrashing as he fought for his life. But he had nowhere to go. He shrieked in agony as he smashed repeatedly into the grill. The periods where he burned lengthened as his strength depleted and he could no longer lift himself.
Tyburn’s eyes gleamed as Forge danced
He slipped away.
~ ~ ~
The water lapped quietly on the shore of the lake, the tree branches hardly moving in the light breeze. The heron lifted off the island, circled for height and then glided across the valley. The area of dark water around the two men expanded but only slowly, the movement of the water barely enough for it to spread.
~ ~ ~
Thrumming beats came in overhead, getting louder, followed by a burst of sustained noise. Spray whipped up around a circular depression on the water, the transport pushing out a standing wave as it hovered like a giant dragonfly. The operator leaned out of the side door on a cable. She took in the wreckage, the downed vehicles and the craters along the shoreline.
“Foxtrot Hotel.”
She swung free and lowered down. Two bodies. One blackened and one broken. She dropped lower.
The extraction target's head was tilted back with his face discolored and his skin ravaged by poison. Havoc's body was missing a section of skull with terrible burns down one side of his face and neck, two kinetic wounds to his abdomen and his left leg rearing out of the water at a sickening angle.
The corpses were lying next to each other, holding hands on a smooth stone that resembled a giant pebble in the water.
“They're gone.”
3.
Thirty Nine years earlier.
Trembali-9 of the Karver Republic, annexed by the Tyurin Republic.
“You know, Forge, if you give a man a fire you keep him warm for a day. But if you set a man on fire, you keep him warm for the rest of his life.”
Tyburn paused.
“At least, I think that's how it goes.”
He looked up.
Forge moaned as he hung upside down, spinning slowly on a crane hook. His hands were bound behind his back and his legs were taped together at the calves, where the hook passed between them. Forge’s naked and athletic body was grimy and coated in sweat. Beside him was a brazier and over the brazier was a grill. The grill's pattern could be traced, in a patchwork of angry burns and suppurating wounds, across Forge’s head, neck and upper body. The air stank of burned hair and scorched flesh.
“We should finish him. They'll be coming to meet him.”
Tyburn’s narrow mouth twisted in a sneer.
“You hear that, Forge? You think you've had enough?”
Forge made an odd gurgling sound.
Tyburn leaned closer.
“Are you crying, Forge? Do you want me to make it stop?”
The tortured man choked in the affirmative.
Tyburn’s voice was as sweet as honey.
“You told us everything, didn't you, Forge? You've earned it, haven’t you?”
Forge mumbled agreement.
Tyburn’s face morphed into pure hate.
“Well you should have thought of that before you tried to give us up, shouldn’t you? Because now you’re going to burn.”
Forge’s moaning increased and his body jerked, though he was clearly spent. Tyburn moved behind the brazier.
“I have to do this, Forge. It’s not my fault. It's yours.”
Forge begged, his croaks incoherent and hoarse.
Tyburn smiled as he put his boot on the grate.
“I’m enjoying your pain, Forge. You deserve to die in agony.”
Forge lurched on the hook. Tyburn savored his victim’s ineffectual struggling.
“Goodbye, Forge.”
Tyburn thrust his boot forward and the brazier screeched across the floor. Forge snapped up at the waist as the grill slid underneath him. He moaned in desperation as he swung back and forth. Unable to maintain his position, he lowered.
Tyburn smiled.
Forge screamed as he hit the scalding grill. He bucked upward, howling for release. The stench of seared meat sliced the air.
Tyburn watched, mesmerized, as the other men turned away.
Forge twisted on the hook, thrashing as he fought for his life. But he had nowhere to go. He shrieked in agony as he smashed repeatedly into the grill. The periods where he burned lengthened as his strength depleted and he could no longer lift himself.
Tyburn’s eyes gleamed as Forge danced
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