The First Superhuman: Rebuilding Civilization from the Moon-Chapter 107: Missing
"Stop! Stop right now!" Jason shouted.
But no one listened. For some inexplicable reason, the entire squad was accelerating. Some even broke into a light jog, pushing past Jason one by one.
"Damn it!" Jason cursed. He didn’t know what was happening, but instinct drove him to raise his rifle to fire a warning shot. He immediately lowered it. The Gauss Rifle was far too powerful; a single blast in these tight quarters could wipe out the entire squad!
His reaction time was flawless. He lunged forward and swept a brutal kick into Shane’s shin, the man bringing up the rear before delivering another crushing blow to Calvin, knocking him hard to the floor.
Both strikes were heavy and vicious, specifically targeting the joints. The two men instantly doubled over, clutching their legs in agony. Yet the rest of the team remained completely oblivious. With blank, glassy eyes, they continued their frantic march deeper into the corridor, moving faster with every second.
The dead silence of the metal hallway was broken only by the rapid, rhythmic thud of their boots. Driven by some unseen force, the squad pushed forward like mindless drones.
A deep chill ran down Jason’s spine. Pure, unadulterated dread gripped his heart. He had no idea what had taken hold of his men, but he knew he had to physically subdue them immediately.
Whatever that hostile presence was, it was closing in.
"Fall back! Fall back now!" he roared over the communicator, but the squad ignored him, continuing their relentless march.
Shocked by thier action, Jason sprinted ahead. He caught up to the nearest soldier, locked his arm into a brutal submission hold, and, relying on raw close-quarters combat training, hoisted the man onto his shoulder and hurled him backward down the corridor.
This place was an absolute nightmare. It seemed Jason was the only one left with his wits intact. He had to physically throw the rest of the team back out the way they came!
If it weren’t for Jason’s enhanced physical capabilities, the entire strike team would have marched straight to their deaths.
As their commanding officer, fleeing to save his own skin wasn’t an option; he was responsible for getting every single man out alive.
Thankfully, the planet’s weak gravity meant a fully geared soldier only felt like they weighed around 22 kilograms. Hurling them a dozen meters through the air was perfectly viable. The impact would hurt, but the sealed suits would prevent fatal injuries.
After tossing the first man, Jason repeated the maneuver, grabbing the next operative and violently throwing them back toward the entrance. The mesmerized soldiers offered no resistance, letting him toss them like ragdolls. Even Marcus, who was near the front of the pack, was totally compliant.
Jason caught a fleeting glimpse of Marcus’s face. His expression was slack, his eyes dead and vacant, completely trapped in a deep hallucination. His legs pumped in a mechanical, unnatural rhythm. Even as Jason hoisted him up, his limbs continued to twitch and sway.
Executing this rapid series of throws in under ten seconds pushed Jason to his physical limits. He gritted his teeth and pushed through the burning exhaustion. Marcus was incredibly heavy, and Jason knew he wouldn’t have time to catch his breath.
One, two, three... he had thrown eight men back. But there was still one figure left, marching dangerously far ahead!
It was Henry, their combat medic!
How the hell did he get to the very front?!
Panic spiking in his chest, Jason didn’t care about exhaustion anymore. He planted a solid kick square into Marcus’s backside, sending the heavy gunner flying out of the corridor.
"Pull back! Get out of here!" Jason roared over the communicator. Seeing that the two men he’d knocked down first were starting to regain consciousness near the entrance, he flashed his tactical light three rapid times, then sprinted deeper into the dark to grab Henry.
Calvin and Shane were the first to snap out of it. They had been at the back of the formation when Jason crippled them with those brutal kicks. The sheer, blinding pain of feeling like their legs had been shattered was enough to shock their brains back online.
"What the hell is going on? Are we possessed?" Their minds were a chaotic blur, feeling as if a massive church bell had been struck right next to their ears, leaving a deafening ring echoing in their skulls.
Through his dizzy haze, Shane saw Jason’s flashlight strobe three times. It was a standard special forces visual cue. Years of drilled muscle memory instantly jolted him fully awake.
That meant Emergency Evacuation! What had just happened?
Seconds later, the rest of the strike team came flying out of the corridor one by one. They hit the deck hard, either knocked unconscious or staring blankly into space, locked in a terrifying sleepwalking state.
"Inject... hit them with the K3 stimulant!" Calvin gasped through gritted teeth, his face pale as death. The overwhelming sense of dread was still suffocating him. He knew they had to get out of this place immediately.
Even though Henry was still trapped inside, every operative carried a personal medkit for emergencies.
Calvin’s hands trembled violently. He fumbled with his pouch, pulled out a stimulant auto-injector, and jammed it into his thigh. The rush of chemicals finally cleared the fog from his brain.
The lightweight suits featured a coin-sized self-sealing port designed specifically for field injections. While a tiny puff of air would escape when the seal was breached, it posed no real threat as long as the injection was fast.
Ten minutes later, the rest of the squad slowly regained consciousness. They looked at each other, a collective chill running down their spines. Their hearts hammered against their ribs like war drums.
It was utterly terrifying. They had all been mass-hypnotized, forced to march deeper into the dark against their will. Something buried deep within that corridor had latched onto their minds, stripping away their free will and reeling them in.
Their memories of the trance were still crystal clear, and looking back on it filled them with a sickening dread. Even sitting safely outside, they could still feel the faint, insidious tug pulling at their minds...
Marcus’s face suddenly contorted with rage. "Where’s the Captain?!" he roared. "Why isn’t he out here yet? And where the hell is Henry?!" Panic rising, he slammed his heavy fist against the metal deck.
"I’m fine. Henry is secure. The area is completely safe... you can all come back inside..." Jason’s voice suddenly crackled over their earpieces.
Relief washed over Marcus. He instantly scrambled to his feet, ready to rush back in, but Calvin aggressively shoved him back. Every instinct in Calvin’s body screamed that the corridor was a death trap. They absolutely could not go back in, or they would end up hypnotized again.
"What the hell are you doing?! Get out of my way!" Marcus snarled, shoving Calvin back with both hands.
"No! You can’t go back in there!" Calvin found a sudden surge of courage and grabbed Marcus’s harness, physically dragging him back. The two men grappled, inches away from a full-blown fistfight.
"Are you defying a direct order from the Captain?!" Marcus roared, his face flushing crimson with fury. Calvin was openly committing mutiny. Marcus looked ready to draw his sidearm and shoot him on the spot.
Suddenly, Shane pushed himself up from the floor and grabbed Marcus’s arm in an iron grip.
Shane’s expression was dead serious. His lips were pressed into a tight, pale line. Without saying a word, he flashed a standard military hand signal right in Marcus’s face: Emergency Evac!
Marcus froze, stunned. Was Shane seriously planning to desert the Captain too?
His rage boiled over, his hands clenching into massive fists. If they didn’t give him a damn good explanation right now, he was going to beat them both into the deck!
Shane scowled, knelt down, and dragged his finger through the thick layer of dust on the floor, tracing out a single sentence: Our communicators... they’ve been compromised!
The words chilled everyone to the bone. Even Marcus went rigid, cold sweat instantly beading on his forehead and soaking the back of his suit.
Was the voice they just heard over the radio a fake?
Wait... if that was fake, then what about before? The transmission from command claiming the corridor was completely safe, that could have been a fake too!
A suffocating horror settled over the squad, and they all fell dead silent. Anything they said over the radio could be manipulated or intercepted.
And why Shane was so certain, because of the three flashes of Jason’s tactical light, a visual, unhackable signal was the true command. Emergency Evac.
We fall back, Shane signaled with his hands.
Marcus was torn with anxiety. The Captain was still trapped inside; how could they just leave him? But the terrifying logic of the situation had set in. He didn’t dare rush blindly back into the dark, terrified that the hypnotic trance would rip his mind away again.
This unseen, alien power had left the elite strike team completely paralyzed!
