Firstly, here's a quick pic of Rile©Toppy,1998 climbing a cliff.
The cliff face was the last real obstacle, beyond which he hoped to find a temporary haven of safety. Beyond the jungles edge it was a two hundred meter dash across rough foliage to a solid eighty meter climb. Sure there where random foot holds, but they where sparse and Gripes just didn't have the time to map out a route. "Rile, you climb up solo. Tell me if the cliff top is clear."
"Yeah, on it." Rile showed no fear as he dashed on into the open. Within six seconds his jungle green form hit the stone gray cliff face. He had launched himself up five meters before he began to actually climb. In the few seconds after impacting with stone camoalls began to merge, jungle green giving way to stone gray, concealing Rile within the open. His pace was phenomenal, with his limbs only touching the cold stone long enough to maintain his upward momentum . Every so often he'd have to slow down a touch to punch raw footholds, at which times he was momentarily clouded by grit and gravel before launching himself further up. Within a minute he had reached the top, where he disappeared from view.
Rile radioed back moments later, 'there's nobody, cap'n.'
'Are you positive Rile?'
'Yeah cap'n, nobody shot at me. I'll see where you....' His voice cut off, throwing doubts up Gripes throat.
'What is it? Confirm your previous statement Rile?'
'It's beautiful cap'n. I've never seen anything so pretty.'
'What the hell are you talking about? Either it's clear or it isn't. Now which is it?'
'It's so beautiful, it must be her.'
Gripes cursed to himself. He knew that when Rile talked like this he was brain locked, his thoughts focused onto complete nonsense. It was a condition that he fell into far to often, with the most inane things grabbing Rile's attention. It could be anything from a strange looking insect to an excessively mutilated corpse. But ounce it caught his attention it was bloody hard to hit him out of his rapture.
Rile©Toppy,1998 and Brad©Toppy,1998 doing a bit of gardening.
Gripes surveyed his small team as they set about preparing the ground for the Strykecar's forewarned arrival. They had barely a few minutes to clear a 20 meter diameter area alongside the camp. Brad and Rile worked with an intense rage, moving about the trees like steroid pumped gorillas, heaving and dispersing hardwood as if they where weeds in a suburban garden. The rest of the team where hiding in strategic positions throughout the area. The fact that Gripes could not see them only filled him with confidence. His team was reliable, having slowly been reduced over the years to a core crew of five kick arse savage grunts, who each had enough sense to follow his orders. Then there was Trev, Gripes didn't know what to fully make of that one. He had only been around for a few months, but he looked, if not promising, unique.
Rile's balky form stopped for a moment as one meaty arm moved to wipe mud across a thick brow. He looked imposing in the dawns light, his five hundred kilo frame sinking half a foot into the mud. Gripes checked his display pad, reviewing the ships ETA. "Your got a minute and a half Rile, you can pose when your finished."
Rile gave the kind of look you'd expect from a farmboy, not a killing machine. "Sure Gripes. Just restin ahbit." Watermelon sized muscles replied, bunching up to pluck another trunk from it's centuries old home. It was still flying through mid air by the time Riles had turned to work his immense strength on another victim.
Gripes hated to admit it but he liked the boy. Sure he had not expected him to last longer then a few days. Such low natural intelligence had to be dangerous, but when coupled with the attention span of a gnat it was almost suicidal. Rile had proved them all wrong at their first contact and once again had a natural.
The boy was good. If the was pain to disperse or death to enforce, then Rile took on a attitude that hinted a hidden depth of intelligence. Now here was a man who simply was not happy enough killing trees. It was no wonder he got distracted so easily. Like many killers Gripes had fought alongside, Rile only felt like a complete person until he saw fear in the eyes of his enemies. Unlike most killers though, Rile had no concept of what an enemy was. Sure most of the team had their quirks, but Rile only lived to see anybody he ran into reduced to a state beyond mercy. He was an innocent child who's only sin was sadism.
Now a rough circle was disintegrating into shape, as the two monstrous grunts pushed back the jungle with only adrenaline to assist them. With seconds to go Gripes could now hear the growing wine of vector thrust jets echoing through the muffled jungle. He had only put out the call hours ago, and the arrival had not been anticipated. He was glad it came sooner then latter. Things were hotting up, extra killers and supplies were needed before pushing forward.
Rile©Toppy,1998 Dreaming about a few people he had met earlier in the day.
Like Con and Trev, Rile was obliviously fast asleep, concealed within the dark edges of the cave. Sure Rile had refused to go to sleep, even he knew that sleep was bad, real bad. Every time Rile awoke, he felt like a large part of him was gone, stolen by sleep. Rile couldn't describe it, but Trev was smart, and he reckoned that sleeping was stealing their souls. Rile sure didn't know what a soul was, but he sure didn't want to get his stolen.
There was never any point complaining to Gripes, he just did not care. Hell, he had even threatened to trigger Rile himself, going so far as getting the injector of Betty before Rile finally spasmed the mental trigger, launching himself into a deep sleep. The last conscious thoughts to grind through his mind where how if he really wanted to, he could go months without sleep. Had gone months.
If Rile could have remembered his dream, he might have known what was being stolen. Then again Rile had never really understood his dreams, dreams of a forgotten youth. Dreams that where condemned, withheld from every killer. That didn't mean that Rile never had any dreams. No, it only meant that he could never touch them.
And the dream. Always different, but always the same. Always violence, always fear.
Rile made his way at great haste through the forest, oblivious to the trees felling all around him. "Gripes told me to go South, so I'm going south. I go all the way south." Staring down at the dazzling display on his left forearm, he noticed a silvery snake. "Nice snake, show me where south is."
"South is straight ahead where others fear tread." The snake hissed concern.
"What are they scared of friend snake?"
The snake slid from an S shape into a questionmark. " Maybe they fear you, maybe they fear me. Maybe they fear another." It resolved back into an S.
"They fear me, people always fear me." A grin split Rile's face. "Yep, I sure scare the hell out off people."
Questionmark, "maybe."
The penny would have dropped if Rile had owned a cent. "They? Who are they?"
"They are dead." The snake flashed an angry red. Looking up Rile noticed soldiers emerging all around him.
Rile's grin split even wider. "Yep, your right, they're dead."
Rile didn't waste a moment of thought as he rushed the shocked figures. They where all well armored and heavily armed, but they barley registered surprise as the furthest two were taken out with pin point accuracy. He designated three more as he slung back his rifle. The closest one had barely raised his own toy gun by the time Rile was upon him. With an organ shattering crunch they collided. The soldier was already a corpse by the time it broke through a nearby tree. Now steady on his feet, Rile's attention on the situation diverged. Should I get the one on the left, or should I get the one on the right.
The sharp crack of gunfire rushed him into action. With a swift movement Rile launched himself at an over hanging limb, feeling several bullets sting him bellow the waste as he twisted in mid air. He sighted his victim, simultaneously snapping the four inch limb launching himself on a new trajectory. Both soldiers where still firing widely at tree branches as Rile thudded to the ground behind a shocked grunt. Towering over a meter above him, Rile swung the branch down as a makeshift spear. As the shattered wood pierced his belly, the man screamed his final breath. His anguish flowed through Rile, as they both went into convulsions. The convulsions eased as the branch broke through the spine, all the time Rile's laugh never growing beyond a chuckle.
Rile stopped to admire what he had created. It was like a rag tag voodoo doll giving birth to a tree of life, the tree that would give birth to salvation. All Rile had to do was feed it and sustain it. The sun glowed around the branches like a virgin halo.
For a moment it held him as he held the dieing man by the neck. Then it snapped as he remembered the man's companion. He must be in awe to. When he quickly located him he was quite disappointed. Already the armed soldier had begun to fire another burst in his direction. Rile swung the still living doll around to greet his aim, crushing the neck as the bullets began to impact. With his other hand Rile easily pulled the head free with a sickening pop. He cocked it back, instantly judging the trajectory to the man's gun. Rile didn't care if they thought of each other as they collided, he only wished he could see their faces. With a crunching smash, the now defunct helmet and gore coated rifle flew of into the under growth.
He was ready to jog up to his disarmed opponent and have some fun when Trev came rushing out of nowhere, a green blur of steel and blood. He carried the man a short distance before dropping him against a tree. Rile could barley see them from where he stood, but they seemed to be talking. Well, Trev mostly, but that wasn't strange, Trev was always talking weird to people.
Once again there was something he had to do, what was that. Something hissed in the back of his mind. Turning to the display he was happy to see that his friend the snake was unhurt. "What are you waiting for, you know your got something you have to do. South, go south." The snake was insistent, so insistent that Rile failed to see six other soldiers that followed in their companions wake. Alerted by their comrade's panicked gunshots they where quick to spray foliage with their own brand of blind gunfire. This only spurred Rile once again into the air, where he made progress from tree to tree, splintering trunks with the immense force his kicks. Bart thundered alongside, crushing more trees in an accompanying flight of attack.
The men never new what hit them as the jungle rushed in. Within the last few moments of their lives, Rile and Bart moved amongst them like two insanely giant toddlers on a rampage. While Rile set about merging two men in a sickening imitation of playdough, Bart was busy slam dunking any one he could grab. With a million dollar pro style he even supplied his own commentary. "And the defense falls to pieces , the great Hakeem Bartal goes for another rebound. He jumps! and scores! The crowd goes wild."
Bart waved for applause as his second victim moaned, impaled upon a bloodied perch, his legs flailing for the ground that laid four meters bellow him. Already the last two had begun to flee in a screaming frenzy for freedom. Bart gave a boyish frown, "what, you don't want to play no more! Well I'm not letting you off that easy." With that his rifle swung up, instantly obliterating the soldiers in their tracks. Letting loose a laugh, Bart surveyed the trashed jungle, "suckers!"