The Industrialist

Damian.

Two miles away from Gerald’s View. Axe Central Outskirt Borders.

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Damian did not know if he would praise Jefferson for being brave enough to drive even with his condition. His fall was high, three meters, and could have at least attained major contusions or minor fractures on his rib, pelvis, or limbs.

Jefferson was physically hardened by the fact that he was a soldier. The training they had was excruciating. As Damian remembered, he had to sprint and run for hours, as a simulation to escape pursuing Abominants.

The road was easy, with occasional soft turns and an unobstructed highway. The strong winds persisted still. It was a gamble, to Damian, that their decision was right. Probably in their bunch, he had the most immersion battle with the Abominants, and he knew and studied about their behavior. Such as the Blind Ungoliant would hunt again back at the house.

’Hell, it’s still hunting us. Above the dark clouds, camouflaging,’ Damian had occasional squints to the skies.

Being on the run, relying on the speed of their jeeps presented more probability of survival than staying in one location. One thing he also remembered was that his unconscious comrades, with the venom inside of them, had strong scents connected to the creature. Hence, wherever they would go, it can follow.

Level 3 Abominants had special abilities compared to the lower levels. Not only these Abominants were categorized into levels by their sizes, but these creatures were also based on their special abilities. The Level 3 Abominants had high instincts of survival, such as the Obsidian’s Scorpion shell, which automatically curled itself to cover from destructive attacks, protecting its soft flesh.

And its hunting skills also include heightened smell, and quick reflexes, moreover, the intelligence to outmaneuver its prey, like what it did with Fatso’s jeep.

He recently knew about the Blind Ungolian’s characteristics – even though it was smaller than the Obsidian Scorpion, one special ability was the capability to fly. Secondly, the ability to inject paralysis into victims by the use of its venom. Thirdly, the Blind Ungolian had heightened hearing and lastly, its hiding ability by the use of sound deceptions.

’Impressive skills,’ Damian thought. It explained that the Blind Ungolian, even though its size equivalent to the level 2 Abominants, was categorized as level 3 because of its varied skills.

In the Jeep, he had two comrades and the unconscious George at the back of the passenger seat. Damian had instructed Joe to accompany Jefferson because of Jefferson’s possible injuries.

Damian unceasingly worried about the condition of their jeeps. The Caretaker said that these units were still for preventive maintenance. What if the radiator would blow up? Or the unrefined oil could damage the engine? There were a lot of possibilities. The rebel members chose to leave these vehicles behind for an obvious reason.

Luckily, the risk of breakdown had not stopped them since their escape.

A few more miles and they would arrive to the prison.

"Kris, scout above us. The Blind Ungolian could be hovering, waiting for us to decelerate." Damian said to his comrade in the right passenger seat.

"Is it still alive? I thought the poison bombs could kill them instantly."

"No. Poison bombs can kill instantly if the blue mist enters their system. The Ungolian managed to escape knowing about the harmful traits of the mist." Damian responded.

Frantically, Kris aimed his rifle above them, toward the dark skies.

"C’mon, men. It’s no time for kidding. I am on the edge here," Kris said with a shaking voice.

Kris was one of the younger generations that joined the rebel faction, the Truthseekers as what they would like to call them. The trained rebel soldiers always targeted Kris to be bullied because of the latter’s hyper-nervousness, and panicky gestures. Others said that some neophytes of the cause joined the rebel faction because of the incapability to look for legal jobs that could earn a living.

With the current economic conditions, the Government announced to the public that the number of unemployed citizens grew by twenty percent for the last three years. That’s about four to six million citizens.

The Corporation had augmented their hiring standards for being scrappers. The level of intelligence should be above average during their evaluations.

And as rumors floated, Kris had failed the evaluations and heard about the rebel faction’s illegal exploits and the opportunity to earn from such activities, without further evaluations or background checking. As long as you become a member of the Truthseekers or the Rebels, you can participate in any activities and earn money in the process.

Kris was no exception, the rumors were true as he confessed. However, he had been tested, and his loyalty to the cause of the rebel faction was justified.

The Council established its own rulings on how to filter rebel candidates to join their cause. They were growing each year, as the economy had been worsening. Jefferson had established a program like what the spies did to test one individual of his loyalty.

One of which was Hypothermia torture, where a neophyte would stand naked in a boxed cell and dosed with cold ice water, with a series of scripted questions being thrown at the pledgee.

This method prevented the inclusion of Government or Corporate spies in their ranks.

"Kris, if you hunt flying creatures, pay attention to your hearing, not with your eyes. You can’t see anything in the air. Hear the flapping sounds, the movement of dust particles, and how the wind reacted with the flying creature, then you use your eyes to confirm." Damian suggested.

"What do you mean, should I close my eyes?" Kris asked.

"No. Stay on one probable quadrant of your vision, and pay attention to your hearing the most. Don’t panic, just listen." Damian said.

"If it comes?"

Slightly, Damian slapped Kris at his nape. "Of course, you fire your rifle, dumbass! It will follow the sound of our jeeps, so probably the Blind Ungolian will be in our rears. It’s wounded, so it could not fly past us."

"How do you know all this stuff?" Kris asked.

"Soldier training, and of course the profiling made by the Outsiders," Damian responded.

After a couple of minutes, the wind blew hard again, whistling like an incoming typhoon. The dead trees were shaken by the strong winds and released small twigs and dead barks carried by the cold ominous breeze.

"What is that?" Kris asked. His sight captured a flock of Abominated birds flying above them like a swarm of bees, flying about randomly, and with unforeseen direction.

"Birds. Abominated ones. They migrate with the strong winds."

"Will they attack us?"

"They will if you are flying, but not on the ground."

Damian did not fear the thousands of birds almost filling the dark sky, casting shadows below them. Sometimes, they blot the faint moon on the Northward quadrant of the sky. What Damian feared the most was the direction of the migration of the Abominated birds. They were heading towards the prison.

"What is that?" Kris asked again, his vision had fixed to one position where the birds flocked in the air.

"I told you these are birds," Damian said while he focused on the road ahead as the road was dark and blurried.

"No. That one!" Kris said as the birds were noisier, and the nozzle of his rifle pointed to much thicker swarming birds.

Damian squinted and a large shadow of another Abominant was being devoured by the swarm. A familiar shriek loomed.

"Cannibalism?" Damian asked. Then of what had transpired, it gave him chills once again, like how they faced the Ungolian creature back at Gerald’s view. "Shit Feck!"

"What’s wrong Damian? We should be happy!"

"Happy? That the birds devoured the Ungolian Spider?"

"Yes, we will not be worried about the level 3 Abominant much longer."

"No. What I am worried about is the idea of cannibalism among Abominants. They don’t do that unless a desperate need for food. I witnessed a lot of this happenings when we battled against the creatures in the Oroz borders. And if the birds were experiencing extreme hunger, then all Abominants would be behaving the same. And secondly, I feared about the Prison.

The flock is heading there." Damian explained.

"So? You told me that these birds won’t attack the ground." Kris lowered his weapon as the chunk of large flesh had disappeared mid-air.

"No, they won’t. But the groundlings do. If birds appeared above, the groundlings would follow them because the groundlings are hungry too. And what’s worse, the level 2 Abominants. They will follow us to prison."

"Level 2? What are those?" Kris asked.

"You haven’t attended the Abominant Orientations? What kind of neophyte are you? Or you aren’t just listening to the lectures." Damian said, he swerved the jeep to a deep curve and Jefferson followed from behind.

Damian increased the acceleration fearing for the groundlings to appear,

Damian sighed in utter frustration.

"Ok, here’s a quick lesson for you about the level 2 Abominants. They are not like the groundlings, they are much bigger. Usually, there are a few level twos that we encountered during our hunting days. They could be in the form of a lion, a tiger, a wolf, or even boa constrictors. Usually, the level twos are much bigger than their dog counterparts.

They are much stronger than the groundlings, sometimes much faster, and much meaner. They don’t have special survival instincts like the level threes and have no special abilities, but what they have is a heightened hunger for meat. For human meat."

Damian continued disclosing details about the level two Abominants and even reminisced stories when he was deployed.

After a few hours, Damian turned the steering wheel to a sharp left and went inside a metallic interlink gate.

"We are here," Damian said. However, his fear never left him. The birds were still hovering above them.