Genesis [Chapter 1]

Amy could definitely see Harvey previously being in the military like his flashbacks suggested. He had that look and air about him that screamed it. Maybe it affected what kinds of weapons he chose. If he were a military veteran he'd obviously know more about them than the average Joe. Sean apparently did not have any sort of flashback yet, but claimed that he felt previous traits popping up every so often instead. Amy could relate to that.

"So far it's just been at that moment when I had to shoot that man..." Amy said. "Other than that, I have no real idea of who I was. Something to do with the church, maybe? I can't tell. I don't think I was in the military or anything like that, though, I can tell you that much. Maybe I was just an average person..."

Before further discussion could be touched upon, an immense amount of force hit the truck, sending Amy and the others flying out of their seats. The truck tipped over on its side, Amy falling onto the cloth cover. She landed pretty bad, hitting her forehead on something as she tumbled, causing blood to flow down the side of her face.

Amy held onto the wound and turned to their window to see the two drivers still sitting in their seats, stuck in their chairs. Amy crawled over to the window and opened it. The driver was dead but the passenger was still alive. He was sitting there, frantically trying to call various numbers.

"God damn it!" he yelled, turning to her. "You! Get out there and fend those guys off! I don't know who they are or what their problem is, but they want us dead. I think they've got a mortar out there, that's what nearly blew us to Hell. I'll radio for back-up, I want you three out there to stop them before they kill us all."

"W-Who are they?" Amy asked frantically.

"I said I don't fucking know!" the man screamed. "They just want to kill us... or something. I don't know. Please, just take care of them before they kill me. I've got kids... I've got a wife. Please!"

It felt strange to hear the man pleading for things that she would never have. Now all that mattered were her comrades and her guns. That's how it was going to be, right? Amy nodded to the man, he had more of a life to look forward to than she did. Bullets were already hitting the truck, though they were ineffective against anything other than human flesh. She stood up and walked over to the other two, who were hopefully recovering from the thrashing.

"There's men out there, I don't know how many," she said, not sure why she was so calm. "The passenger thinks they have a mortar out there to, probably manned by a few people. I'll try shoot at the people charging the truck while you guys take shots at the mortar team. We've... we've killed someone before... so this shouldn't be too hard... right? ... Let's go!"

Using the truck as cover, she peeked out, noticing quite a few people approaching, at least a dozen or so, before she had to duck back due to fire. Amy took out the P90 and readied it. She popped out and aimed quickly, spotting the closest target and riddling him full of bullets with the hold of a trigger. He was down, but the unexpected recoil caused Amy to buck up a bit and waste some ammunition. That was something she'd have to get used to.

An explosion hit the ground close-by, dirt flying everywhere. A little bit closer and they would've been gone. Sean and Harvey would have to take out those guys quickly. Amy steeled herself for another jump and popped out of cover again, firing at two men closest to the vehicle, one getting quite a few holes in his chest and the other a crippling shot in the arm. The trigger clicked and she backed up in cover. She had to reload. Amy took out the clip and attempted to load another magazine, but it was kind of awkward. It was difficult, but for some reason she knew exactly what to do, and she couldn't understand it. Amy ignored the feeling and took it as granted, jamming the magazine in and looking at her two comrades.

"Kill them before they hit the truck again!"

Harvey had hit the side of his head of the edge of the truck when the mortar round struck. Something uncomfortably familiar went through his mind as it happened. Struggling to leave the overturned truck, Harvey found himself crawling on the ground. Taking his Intervention into his arm, he started to continue to crawl until he stopped - he wondered what he should do. He didn't know where the mortar squad was.... his only choice was to find them.

Taking on strength he never knew he had, and the adrenaline that suddenly started to pump through his veins, Harvey took off at full sprint. He zigzagged to avoid fire, yet the way he ran was so close to what one might see in a war movie, one might mistaken Harvey for a soldier. At that moment, he seemed to have lost all fear - fear of death, of the bullets whizzing past his head, and of the people he was to kill.

Seeing Amy running ahead, Harvey jumped and landed on his stomach in the dirt. Bringing his rifle forward, he flipping down the bi-pod. Looking to his scope, he realized he had to zero it in. Cursing silently, Harvey closed one eye and aimed through his scope. Sliding back the bolt to his CheyTac Intervention in one fluid motion, he loaded in a round and quickly slid it shut. The noises around him started to fade - the only thing he cared about were his targets who happened to be the unharmed mercenaries charging toward Amy.

Taking his first shot, the recoil of the rifle slamming into his shoulder gave him a thrill - one that felt familiar in an old way. He managed to catch the path of his bullet through his scope. It was off by a few inches and ended up hitting the dirt. Looking to the dials on his scope he realized what they were for and quickly adjusted them accordingly. Loading in his next bullet, he aimed, took a deep breath, and fired in sequence. One soldier fell dead in his tracks, the back of his skull exploded outward from the .408 caliber round that hit at the bridge of his nose.

Ignoring just what he had done, he loaded in another round. It seemed like a piece of his older self was the driving factor in how he acted within a hostile environment. Squeezing the trigger again and again, he took down another mercenaries with the utmost impunity. After all, these men... whoever they were, now were trying to kill the only friends he had in this world. He had to protect them, and he hoped they would in turn do the same. They were a single unit now, a single puppet.

Picking himself from the ground, Harvey found his chest was quite scraped and bloodied - he wasn't wearing any armor of course, they were all still wearing those robes from the facility. He decidedly ignored the pain and started to crouch run through brush until he came to another location to shoot from. This time, he was well camouflaged due to the high grass and the bushes surrounding him. Finding a small clearing in the bush, he aimed through and found some more mercenaries. Two shots took them down quickly, however finding them too close sent a shiver of danger down his spine.

Ejecting the shell from his rifle and closing the bolt, he put the gun into safety and slung it by the strap back onto his back. Retrieving his M4A1 Carbine, he grabbed a clip, making sure it was filled with the correct ammunition, and loaded it. Flipping off the safety, Harvey made his way out from cover and as he ran toward a boulder, he shot down one more mercenary with two shots to the gut and a fourth their head in rapid succession. As he crouched behind the large boulder he was suddenly surprised by one mercenary he hadn't seen coming toward him.

It seemed the merc was just as surprised because they both stopped and stared at each other for a long while before anyone acted. Harvey was the quicker one, and with moves he hadn't been taught by anyone since his resurrection, he grabbed the mercenary and threw him to the ground using their own momentum. Just as Harvey fell forward, he used his own weight to bring his elbow down into the man's neck. He pretended he didn't hear him break the mercenaries trachea, or the sickening spluttering that ensued as the man started to have his lungs will with blood. Not wishing the man a slow death, Harvey stood up and hastily un-holstered his HK45 and put a bullet in his brain.

The mortar squad could be heard, he neared his targets. Keeping his body low, he moved slowly to a good position to take them down.

Luck fell onto the truck's side hard, hitting whatever lay under the truck good enough to knock his head loose. Unable to silence himself in such a situation, he hollered with great rage, "bloody fuckin' hell! Son of a bitch!" Regaining his composure for awhile longer, he wobbled as his head attempted to readjust, still trying to recuperate from the fall. Shaking his head quickly, he hustled out of the truck, diving for Amy's cover quickly.

"Fuckin' hell!" Luck blurted again, removing the M110 SASS from his back and loading it with a fresh magazine. Looking around, he noticed a modest perch, just overlooking the truck. Pointing to it behind cover, he yelled to Amy, "cover me arse! I'm goin' for that wee hill over there!" Before she could give him any sign of agreement, he darted for the shortest route to the hill, slightly strafing to prevent from being shot in the back.

As he got behind the cover of the perch, he noticed a few mercenaries trying to flank Amy from behind his own perch; a bad move on their part. Grabbing his M32, he aimed towards the group carefully and fired, flinging the 3 down to the ground before they could retaliate to the threat they just noticed; various limbs from the closest two scattering about in a most gruesome fashion. Smirking at his success, he moved on to scouting out the land ahead.

Taking cover before anyone noticed him, he brought his M110 out and stealthily searched the battle unfolding before him. After a bit of recon, he realized that the situation was broken into 3 fronts. There was the assault on the truck up close, a group of soldiers far off in the background providing support, and a mortar team which was slightly hidden. Given he could not find Harvey close by, he likely was going for the mortar team far off. He'd let him handle them.

Setting up his bipod for the weapon, he zoomed in upon the mercenaries at mid-point. Amy and Harvey had their targets, and he had his. These blokes thought they had it in the bag, but he wasn't prepared to loose anyone yet. Carefully zeroing in on an unsuspecting mercenary, he licked his lips. The crack of the rifle as he fired was all the warning the one man was given, however it was too late. From afar, Luck noticed the man collapse as a red dot on his head appeared. His friends recoiled in shock, ducking because of the new threat. They would show these arseholes how much of a grave mistake they'd made, attacking his mates.

The other two ran off to different positions as Amy stayed back to defend the truck from the assaulting front-line. She gave suppressing fire as Luck disappeared into cover to take shots at enemies shooting from mid-way. Harvey shot a few people charging at her, but now had stopped. She was guessing he was making his way towards the mortar team. He'd better hurry... Amy thought to herself.

Amy crouched and appeared out of cover, firing at two people getting dangerously close to the truck. Before they could fire at her, bullets went everywhere inside them, their unorganized outfits staining with blood. Amy popped back in cover and took a deep breath. She could feel her heart beating rapidly. This combat was intense.

As she was taking a breather, something hit the dusty ground right next to her. A frag grenade. Her eyes widened and she grabbed the small instrument of death, tossing it back at them without aiming. She heard a few screams come from behind her, verifying that she made a lucky throw. Amy peeked to the side of the cover to see a black mark with the bloodied bodies of three people around it, some with limbs missing.

The assault line was broken. Amy felt a rush of optimism course through her veins. It seemed that they weren't in such a lost situation after all. Amy strapped the P90 back on her back and pulled out her Jericho 941. She readied the gun as if she'd known how to do it for years, even though she'd never touched one before in her life. This instinct wasn't natural, she could tell that already.

Amy left her cover after a few short breaths and charged up the battlefield, getting ready to help Luck with the enemies at mid-way. A tree was in her sight, a suitable unit of cover. As she was approaching the object, a soldier jumped out from behind it and fired. Amy felt impact hit her in the stomach, falling because of the sudden pain, letting out a groan of pain. She grabbed the wound with her left hand and fired blindly at the man with the other, two shots hitting him in the chest and the last striking him right in the forehead, blood spewing out like a fountain.

In great pain, Amy dragged herself behind the tree she was going to use as cover and slumped herself against it. She looked down at the wound. It didn't look good at all. There was a hole in her bottom right stomach, blood coming out quite steadily. It hurt bad, but the adrenaline from the battle was helping block it. She was panicking however. She was for sure that shot hit an organ.

Amy panted, her breath coming faster. She looked behind the tree to see men falling at mid-way due to Luck's firing. She thanked God for that, or they would be able to end her right here. Amy didn't care if she could get revived, she didn't want to die again. It'd be an awful experience, and this time she'd actually remember it. Time was running out for both her and the truck. Amy hoped to God that Harvey would take out that mortar team quickly or the situation could end badly.

"Please, Harvey..." she said softly to herself, as if praying. "Hurry!"

Harvey ran down the field of battle gripping his M4 as if it were his lifeline. As a few more mercenaries ran at him once more, he dropped to a knee, thus dodging a few more rounds, and then squeezed his trigger four times, pumping two rounds into both of them. Moving on, he saw the slight glimmer of the mortar squad on a hill - still quite far away.

Cursing beneath his breath he squatted and started to survey the land around him. At this position, he was extremely vulnerable to enemy fire, let alone a clean target for a mortar strike if they decided to forget about the truck and his comrades. Finding a small cliffside in the west, naught a half mile from his position and a bit closer to the mortar team, he made his way through brush and bramble toward it. To his horror, a bullet suddenly buried itself in the dirt by his feet. Seeing the size of the hole, and the force at which it obviously had behind it, Harvey knew it was a sniper's bullet.

So that's how it was? Harvey had to deal with a sniper before he could knock out that mortar team. A sudden thrill seemed to reverberate through his body - he had an odd feeling as though he had felt this feeling many times before. He supposed it was the thrill of a sniper vs. sniper battle - said as being on of the most dangerous match ups in a war. Finding cover from in a ditch, Harvey slung back his M4 and loaded his Intervention with a fresh clip. Poking his head from cover, all was silent. The sniper seemed to have lost him. However, he knew he couldn't afford to allow them to live as they would turn their attention onto his comrades.

Looking down the field with his scope, he scanned the high grass of the hill to his north. As his eyes came to rest on a certain patch, he thought he caught movement. Leveling his rifle, he pulled back the bolt and loaded a .408 round into his chamber. Continuing to scan, he rested again back at the spot from before after seeing a small flash. Assuming it was the enemy's sniper scope catching a sun ray, he readied his finger upon his trigger.

Squeezing the trigger, he saw a mist of blood momentarily fill the air over the target area. He knew he had the sniper, but just in case he moved toward the cliffside through the ditch he was in. Keeping low, he could still here shots being fired from other locations. The action however was winding down.

As he came to rest at the cliffside, he crouched and leveled his Intervention once more. The mortar team was clear ahead upon the hill ahead perhaps a half mile away. Readying his Intervention, he made the correct adjustments after guessing the trajectory of his following rounds. Shoving a finger in his mouth, he stuck it into the air to gauge the wind - he almost chuckled over the pure ridiculousness of the move, however not having the gear to do it otherwise left him no other choice.

Finding that the wind was perfectly still, he took his aim. It was now or never, any minor wind change could completely destroy his shots. Pulling back the bolt once more, he took aim to the mercenary loading the rounds. Firing, he could see the round blow through their neck and hit the dirt on the hillside behind. Just as the mercenary crumpled to the ground holding his neck, Harvey had always loaded in another round and took aim at one of his surprised mercenary comrades who had been the one to zero in the mortar.

Downing two of the mortar crew was simple, however the other two had suddenly struggled to fire off one more mortar round. Loading another round into the chamber, Harvey pulled his trigger but suddenly found something went horribly wrong. His sniper rifle jammed. To his luck (or misfortune, it can be debated), the mortar had taken aim for him. The round hit only some feet from where he crouched at the cliffs edge. The noise was loud enough to block out all other noises for a while aside from a constant ring. Gritting his teeth, Harvey ended up taking out his HK45 and running from his cover.

Noise came back to him in that moment as his adrenaline pulsed harder than ever before. He could no longer hear any shots from behind, telling that either mercenaries managed to kill Amy and Luck, or the very inverse. He truly hoped it was the latter, but if it wasn't he had already resigned himself to killing their murderers should it happen. As he took upon the daunting task of sprinting the half mile to the mortar squads position, he couldn't help but think this was insanity only fit for an action flick. Another mortar round hit to his side, he only just felt the shrapnel hit his side. He felt his body lurch to one side from the shock-wave but somehow remained on his feet and running. Bellowing such a war-cry, he ran up the hill and stood before the two last mercenaries on the field with such a look that they ended up standing their dumbly before desperately grabbing for their rifles that leaned against their mortar pit's side.

Harvey lifted his HK45 before they could act. Two shots to each of their chests and two again in their foreheads ended the battle then. He collapsed to his knees on the hill, barely able to move. As his adrenaline started to go down, the amount of pain he felt escalated. Putting a hand to his side, he felt three large chucks of jagged metal protruding from his flesh. He also noticed that he had been shot one toward his right shoulder. Dropping his pistol, he fell face first into the mortar pit where he lay, utterly unable to move due to his wounds and exhaustion.

"W-w-what the hell came over me...? Have I r-really been through shit like t-this?" Harvey asked himself out loud.

Luck noticed that Amy had fallen; she was alive, however was suffering from a wound in the abdomen. Chances are, she wouldn't last too long under such conditions, and needed First Aid. Did he have any idea how to use First Aid? Well, a man has to try. Gritting his teeth at the sight, Luck cursed loudly, taking down the rest of the foolish mercs as they attempted to kill at least one of the 3 combatants, all failing under his fire. Folding back his bipod and slinging his M110 onto his back, he slid down the side of his perch, running into the truck.

He knew he had seen a First Aid kit in their before, and it wasn't much trouble finding it. Grabbing it from on one of the walls, he pulled out his HK45 and dashed for Amy, the only one mate he could see at this point. Noticing a rifle lift just inside his peripheral vision, he rolled into cover: he'd missed a bloke, apparently. Peeking his head out of cover to find his target, he fired his HK45 once, making the merc jump as the bullet grazed him.

Slowly the merc advanced, firing upon his cover as he did. What was he doing? As the merc came upon his cover, rather foolishly, he sprung from his position immediately, ensuring he was left of the man's rifle. Knocking the weapon out of his hand, he pistol whipped the man hard, sending him to the ground as he shot him. He almost wanted to chuckle to himself; what the fuck was the bloke doing anyways? I mean, most of the mercs here seemed to be at least somewhat challenges; he presumed that bloke was a bit behind the curve.

Moving onwards to Amy, he holstered his HK45 and opened the kit, attempting to apply First Aid to heal Amy in whatever way possible. "Damnit girl, stay with me!" He breathed in a rugged voice, as he treated the wound. To be honest, he had no bloody clue what he was doing, it was as if he was a natural at it. He was alright with somehow knowing how to use a weapon, but First Aid? He was beginning to wonder whether this was their training, or if the company was merely honing their skills.

Now that was a curious thought. What if this was training? Given the general presence Avalon had with the group, Luck almost wouldn't be surprised if this sick twisted battle was merely an exercise routine monitored by the very company who held rights to them. Were people merely objects to the company, if this were the case? Now he wondered whether it was right to kill the men at all. They had been hired to kill them - they didn't do it out of any reason that had themselves, they were put up to it. They were hired cannon fodder. Then there was the truck drivers - were they supposed to die? Did they know that Avalon would have them killed for the sake of training? Given the pleading from the one whom survived, he was sickened by the very prospect of this company, if this turned out true.

Amy looked up at Luck who seemed to be trying his best at treating her. He surprisingly knew what he was doing with first aid, making the wound a little less proficient at killing her. Amy was already feeling drained and her vision was blurry. She could tell that she was dying, but was hoping they'd get rescued before that happened. First aid could prolong the death, but it couldn't completely fix this kind of wound. Amy grabbed Luck's sleeve.

"Thank you..." she said to him, the words hard to form. "I shouldn't have done that."

Almost as if on cue, the sound of helicopter blades could be heard. The flying vehicle descended by the truck and picked out the driver from the wreckage. A couple men carrying a stretcher ran to Amy and Luck. They lifted her up on it and carried her onto the helicopter, gesturing for Luck to follow them and take a seat somewhere. They set Amy down in the helicopter, but she sat up quickly, a worried look on her face.

"There's still someone out there!" she told them. "He's one of us. He's out farther. I think he might be hurt. I don't know, he's been gone for a while."

The pilot nodded and they soon lifted off, searching around in the skies until they found Harvey collapsed on a hill. They dropped down quickly and carried him on-board with a stretcher. It looked like there was a wicked piece of shrapnel in his side. Both he and Amy were immediately being tended to by a few doctors, different kinds of drugs being administered to them all at once, easing away pain and doing other things Amy didn't understand.

What bugged her was that the helicopter came it at just the right time, like they knew when they were supposed to come in. This was either a set up or they were sitting back and watching how the test subjects would handle themselves for the very first time. Either way, it was a rather strange sort of test. Ethically it was completely wrong. In another sense, however, they did receive a proper taste of the battlefield against easier foes. They weren't elite agents, of course, even Amy could tell that.

"Who were those men?" Amy asked one of the doctors.

"They could've been anyone," the doctor replied. "Lots of people have been investigating what's been going on in the Resurrection Project. I'm assuming they had intentions of stealing all three of you and putting you all up for ransom or selling your bodies to some other company. This is private research, of course, so it's obvious this would've happened sometime."

"It was so fast," Amy said, staring off. "We hardly moved before we were being blow away."

"That's your first taste of a well prepared ambush," the doctor said with a smile. "All you guys need to know is that you did fantastic out there. Truly."

Amy nodded and laid down on the stretcher, letting the doctors work on her. It was messy, but she couldn't feel as much pain anymore. Whatever they had given her was working quite well. She looked over at Harvey to see if he was faring any better. The wounds looked sick, but it looked like he'd recover. Luck, of course, was lucky enough not to have gotten any major wounds. She supposed he had his name for a reason.

Harvey opened his eyes. He wasn't sure if he had fallen unconscious, or merely asleep. He couldn't help but wonder because he had been exhausted when he collapsed back there. He saw Amy to the side of him - she had been shot in the abdomen. Luck, just as his nickname suggested, was the lucky one and returned without so much as a scratch. Harvey was still be patched up, groaning lowly, he winced as the doctors reached into the bullet hole with pliers and dug out the bullet that had hit him there.

He didn't feel much pain, but was still quite uncomfortable. He felt as though all his joints and bones were heavy and stiff. To everyone's surprise, he had started to laugh lightly. He wasn't sure why he was, but was certain that the others would definitely see him as quite insane.

"That was the craziest thing I have ever done... or maybe it isn't. I can't remember the early part of my life." Harvey resumed laughing.

Their situation, even if no one would admit it, was indeed ridiculous. Harvey thought that this entire thing was a set-up by Avalon to see just how "committed" they were, and how they could preform in a battle situation. It had to be it. What kind of coincidence would it be that just as they move out from the facility, mercenaries find them and attack?

As Harvey and Amy were being operated on, the helicopter neared the Avalon training facilities. It was an enormous building, shaped like a dome with a shade of faded military green on the outside. There was a large fence around the outside areas, at least ten feet tall and high voltage. There was a big main gate on the fence, covered by highly trained guards with high quality weapons. It was an almost impenetrable fortress.

The helicopter dropped to a helipad outside the building, landing smoothly for the sake of the injured members on board.

"Here we are, Avalon's training facilities," the pilot said. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Amy looked at the large building and nodded. They took Harvey and Amy out with the stretchers and started to walk towards the building, Luck following behind. It was very likely they'd start training the next day, despite these injuries. Amy knew they had medical technology great enough to heal almost any wound. "Medical machine" is the proper term for what would be used to fix them. This breakthrough technology is largely unknown and still in an experimental stage, but it so far surpasses any sort of medical aid known to mankind. Amy could somehow recall knowledge of hearing about them before, though she could not remember when.

They slowly walked across the dried dirt to the entrance of the facility. Amy was slowly losing consciousness. Despite the pain medication, she could tell that she still wasn't in good shape. There was only so much they could do for her on a moving helicopter. Amy closed her eyes and waited for consciousness to pass, slowly drifting away from thought as if nothing ever mattered.