The Zen Gene Read Free Page A

pain was staggering. It felt like battery acid had been splashed on the backsides of his eyeballs inside his head; the effect so real he gagged at the smell of burning bubbling flesh. His face muscles went hard, snapping in to a rigid spasm, locking his jaw. He tried to scream but his mouth would not open to allow sound to escape.
    “Come on Sarge, make with the noise already I need a take a dump.”
    Torgesen whispered from the darkness but Peters could no longer respond, he could not hear him nor could he move any part of his body. The muscles of his torso had contracted and locked together drawing him into a hard knotted ball of flesh. What consciousness remained was sealed away locked inside a damaged mind which no longer permitted thought. As higher functions dimmed there remained only one clear input to his senses and that was the nerve-searing pain alive inside his skull. Within his ebbing awareness he knew he was dying and he welcomed it.
    Torgesen realized something was wrong with Peters and went over and knelt down beside him. “Ranger two, Sarge has…. a problem. You should do the deed, copy?”
    He examined his stricken partner trying to determine what had happened. It looked like he was having a seizure or a stroke and then it occurred to him he might have been bitten by a snake. He briefly turned on his shielded light and rolled him over to check the ground beneath him but there was nothing there. There was no more time to check for bite marks he got his weapon ready and prepared for the shit storm when Slick took down the target.
    He readied himself to shoot whoever came their way after the report from Slick’s rifle. He selected full auto and clicked off the safety waiting for the shot but it never came. He knew there were at least two unfriendlies nearby but he risked another call. He wanted to know what the fuck was happening.
    “Ranger two, this is Tor, the Sarge is T.U. Repeat. Sarge is down,” he whispered, “you are ‘go’ to take out the target. Do you copy?”
    He waited but there was only dead air, scary dead air, and then he heard.
    “Ah, we got a problem, Tor.”
    It was Steve Kowalski, Slick’s new wingman and he sounded worried.
    “WTF Steve?” he hissed.
    “I think Slick had a heart attack or something. He’s flaked out on the ground kinda curled up,” he said.
    What the fuck is this Torgesen thought turning back to peer at the dim outline of his Sergeant on the ground. He had no idea what was going on but with Slick and the Sarge both down that meant he was in command and as far as he was concerned the operation was over.
    “Ranger two what’s your status?” he whispered.
    “Confused, what’s yours?” he said.
    “Same. Can you see the unfriendlies?”
    “Yeah they’re closer now at your nine o’clock.”
    “Ok Steve it’s bug-out time. Can you carry Slick back to the E.P.?”
    “Yeah, I guess so,” he said.
    “Okay, go now, don’t wait,” he whispered.
    He was about to put his weapon down and attempt to pick up Peters when he heard a voice to his left. Kowalski was right they were close. The shadowy outline of a man with an RPG came into view against the slightly lighter background of the night sky. Torgesen silently cursed the fact he left his night-vision gear on the rock behind him when he came to help Peters. The man with the RPG stopped twenty meters away down the slope and Torgesen shifted the selector to single fire and slowly knelt beside his Sergeant. He was concerned that auto fire would draw return fire to his muzzle flash. The bad guy was right there in front of them. This would not be a good time for Sarge to start moaning he thought as he shouldered his weapon and waited.
    He saw the outline of the other man walking in their direction but as he watched he stopped moving and Torgesen’s blood ran cold as he wondered if they’d been spotted. He waited controlling his breathing; he was counting on them not being able to see any better than he could.