Chapter 06: Behemoth of metal

Raphael almost fell on his knees when he noticed the military vehicle that was slowly approaching the research group. The vehicle could not be compared to the cars or trains that he normally saw, instead it was akin to a behemoth of metal, something you would find in the stories of old.

The vehicle had three compartments that were divided by a corridor of polymer, similar to the hazmat suit that he was wearing. Each compartment was being kept up by three pairs of large wheels and were covered in a metal alloy that was made using lead and other materials that the German engineers created with the hope of surviving The Infection.

The Infection of Switzerland was split off in five parts or 'sections'. The one most well known by the public and the one where a lot of books were set in was called 'The Wound'. In here, the protagonists would see the destruction left behind by the war and ruminate silently while in search for treasure or of people that were in need of a helping hand. One that wasn't rotting or filled with mold.

No book could properly explain the scenery in The Wound, Raphael knew that, and yet he still read those books thinking to himself on how he could easily survive this place. Why would these protagonists suddenly start feeling sentimental? Why would the action hero that killed numerous people on his way here suddenly feel repulsed and disgusted by what remained in this land?

The young assistant, which now was standing still along with his group and catching his breath, was cursing his past, naive self. He had seen plenty of corpses before while studying medicine, he dissected some, saw people die and many gruesome accidents.

The current situation was different. This wasn't a land were a few dozen or just hundreds of people died. They weren't given the privilege of an anesthetic and to die on an operating table, nor did they get to be buried in graves of ground or cremated while surrounded by loved ones. This place could not even be called a mass grave.

This was an infection, and they were the cells.

Raphael had to slowly walk for a long time, accompanied only by his breathing, the feeling of the mud flowing around his legs, and the twisted shriek of agony ingrained into the stones. He had to think whether the oozing, pitch black liquid that clung to his suit was simply mud or the decomposing flesh of a living being.

When one usually has to deal with corpses, it is a relatively short affair. They would spend hours at most, and usually surrounded by at most only a few corpses that were mangled or barely recognizable. The feeling of putting one leg in front of the other while accompanied by inhuman shrieks of stone and the sea of rot is maddening.

Face pareidolia is the phenomenon where the human mind sees human faces in other mediums. This is a byproduct of human imagination and similar to how someone could point at a cloud and see a plane, while another would see a river. Raphael knew fully well about this phenomenon and how this is just an illusion.

But it did not help him at all when he looked down at the mud out of curiosity or just to see a different scene, only to be shown the face of human anguish. It was sometimes a crying child with tears of black, sometimes a woman that could barely breathe, watching as her son's coffin was lowered into the ground.

The one that gave him pause was not one that showed anguish, but instead that of fear. The face of an old man looking at the ceiling of a hospital while medical equipment was besides his bed. The man had an absent look on brown eyes, one that was filled with reluctant acceptance.

Once the young assistant saw the scene he stopped for a brief moment and watched. The sounds and the eerie ambiance of this place was playing tricks on his mind but he still could not stop seeing that face in the mud. The old man continued looking at the off colored sky, waiting for something...

The tubes coming out of his pointy nose ran down and met the artificial veins inserted into his veins, connected to the wrist as if he was a puppet left on the ground and forgotten. His snow white hair and brows gently moved as one of his hand slowly went to his chest and clutched the gown tightly.

A beeping sound could be heard in the horizon, slowly growing more and more erratic as the man's eyes looked frantic and scared. He was not an old man anymore, he was a scared child yet again. A child scared of the unknown, scared of the monsters that hid in the ever encroaching darkness. Scared of being away from his parents and in a place he disliked.

The frightened child slowly opened his lips and tried to cry for help. The child then turned back into an old man that was now staring at Raphael, pleading with his eyes while the beeping got louder and louder, drowning out the words spoken by the man.

Then the beeping stopped. The fear in the eyes of the man was gone and the hand that clenched tightly at the gown slowly relaxed.

The young man was woken out of his trance by a tap on his soldier from one of the workers pulling the carts, urging the man to continue walking through the shallow sea.

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The massive behemoth stopped a few meters in front of the research group, with the roaring of the engine now being silenced and replaced by the opening of the tail of the beast.

After a few moments of tense waiting by the research group, the sound of a metal door sliding open could be heard, along with the uniform steps of the military squadron. Eight soldiers, all wearing modified hazmat suits slowly walked out, like parasites leaving the body of their host.

The combat environmental protection suit, of CEP suit, was covered in small plates of stainless steel that were made to allow for ease of movement while also giving some protection. The suit is also made to sustain the weight of these plates, with some parts like the boots, gloves and chest having to be reinforced due to the higher exposure rate to dangerous materials.

The soldier's were not carrying any fire arms but were instead equipped with self defense combat knives. These knives were made to not be affected by the corrosive material still present in the atmosphere, while the firearms were to be used inside certain Domes due to the cost of manufacturing specialized firearms.

The visors of their helmets was larger and equipped with two large filters, slightly resembling the snout of a rat with an infected nose. Raphael carefully looked at them while Senior Researcher Rodolphe went to meet and converse with one of the members.

That particular soldier was easy to spot due to their petite nature, being even shorter than some of the female members of the research group. It did not help that among his squadron there were two giant behemoths that looked like two devils straight out of hell.

The biggest and the one that was also the commanding officer was tall, 6'6 but his height was probably elongated by the CEP suit. His body however was not enlarged by the suit, in fact the suit almost seemed to slightly stretch whenever he moved, as if the thing was too small.

Well-toned muscles and a good skeletal structure were evident, but what surprised the young assistant was the way he moved. It almost felt too swift, as if his large stature did not make him slower but instead elevated his trained physique.

The other man, who was a foot or two shorter than the Sergeant looked almost stiff and rigid. He was not as muscular or as tall as the commanding officer but he instilled a feeling of...stability? It felt like he would not topple even if faced with a raging tornado or the charge of a crazed buffalo.

Raphael slowly started feeling a bit self conscious when he compared himself to them. It suddenly felt like he became a side character in his own story, overshadowed by someone more experienced to this hell. He felt weak.

He decided not to accept this. He slowly started getting more determined to make a name for himself, to become like them, better than them. To be able to stand tall if...When he returned back home.

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The discussion between the Senior Researcher and the petite soldier was over, the researchers were then led closer to the behemoth. The tree like man looked over in Raphael's direction and stopped, then just looked at him for a few seconds, then returned back to marching with his squadron.

'What the hell was that? Was I looking at him too intently back then? The man's face was hidden by the visor so I do not even know what kind of face he was making. Was he mocking me? Feeling burdened by having to carry around some boy that did not even know the least bit about war? No I shouldn't be feeling too negatively about all this, maybe he was just checking if the cargo was alright.'

Raphael slowly calmed himself down and started thinking rationally. This day has been stressful for him, and most probably for the rest of the research group as well and all that he was doing was act like a child instead of going into the safety of the vehicle.

He then quickened his step and got closer and closer to the massive vehicle, comparing it in his mind with the train from before and finding the steel behemoth even larger. It was much shorter in length when compared to the many interconnected train compartment but it was also much taller and wider.

'The marvels of German engineering. I hear that they were finishing up on a project about mechanical prosthetics that could operate almost 1-1 with natural limbs, or even better. Maybe the Geber simply wants to get a new leg.'

The young research assistant, still dreading the outside and the shallow sea, slowly entered the tail of the Behemoth. The first compartment was almost large enough to contain all of the soldiers, the 12 researchers and assistants along with the cargo. The walls of the compartment whirred around and then a small gas filled the chamber.

A lot of the research group was starting to panic, feeling like they were lured inside of a gas chamber by mercenaries that disguised themselves as soldiers in hopes of getting their supplies. The researchers and assistants only stopped when they saw Researcher Rodolph simply standing calm, not a single hint of worry being shown.

When the gas completely filled the chamber, all of the mud that stuck to the boots of Raphael, the research group and the squadron was slowly sliding down. It was now that Raphael noticed that the floor has small holes in it, and which through the mud and possibly other contaminants got drained into an unknown place.

The chamber was for decontamination, to kill any remaining pathogens, spores or hazardous materials before entering the vehicle proper. The researchers were not strangers to such chambers but due to the long journey for their untrained bodies and minds, along with the stress, their minds immediately went into a fight or flight response.

Once the decontamination was over and the gas was sucked out of the chamber and replaced with filtered air, the accumulated stress and feeling of danger in both groups lessened greatly. The door to the next compartment then opened and they were led inside to both unwind and to make space for the cargo.

The next compartment looked like a lounge or strategy table. It was not built to accommodate this many people but the soldiers didn't stay long. The door leading to the 'cockpit' of the DEAV opened and the squadron immediately went inside, giving the researchers some much needed room.

Raphael slowly got out of the cumbersome suit and then stashed it inside one of the specialized storage areas. He was tired, both mentally and physically, so he decided to sit down on one of the chairs that looked to be made out of leather and then fell asleep, expecting a long day to be ahead of him.

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Florence, Italy. It was nearing afternoon for the city of Florence, which was now filled to the brim with people. There were people looking for work in the fields or factories, some were returning home, and others were hiding in the shadows. These people were outlaws, people with no home or money, mercenaries looking for possible clients while hiding from law enforcement and people that dreamed of a better tomorrow.

In one of these dark alleys was a dilapidated building with three floors and a basement. This building was the current hiding spot of a team of mercenaries and a revolutionary movement that went by the name of 'Mold Breaker'.

The leader of the team of mercenaries currently employed by Mold Breaker went by the name of 'Concepita'. She was a feared woman, said to be born in the northern parts of Italy, straight in The Wound. She was hunted by the government because she had come to know the true reason for the existence of the Domes and the military expeditions, along with having seduced the son of the current govern leader.

Concepita had two prominent bullet scars near her intestines and liver, along with a chemical burn around her cheek and all the way to the left part of her temple. She had light grey eyes, scarlet blood hair and tanned olive skin.

Her body was toned and the same height as an above average man. Her figure was well generous due to her training and diet, but it was almost entirely hidden away by her combat armor and a dark grey cloak that she uses to hide herself.

This young woman in her mid-twenties was currently overlooking the streets below and then sighed as her stomach let out a small grumble.

'I could really go for some ginestrata right now. Having to keep on this persona of some badass female mercenary is getting tiring, and having to deal with those revolutionaries isn't helping either.'

Concepita then slowly got up and sat down on a more comfortable chair near the closed door. She was tired due to not being able to take a proper shower and was now starting to miss the food she had home. She missed the slightly salty air of Napoli, the comfortable clothes she would wear while walking down the street and the warm bed she left behind.

The scarred woman then shook her head a bit and then clenched her right hand tightly, now looking at the window yet again and at the receding dark clouds.

'Just how pathetic are you? People are suffering here and all you can think of is your life back in the south. You cannot return back there even if you wanted to, you have stained your hands with too much blood to start acting like a privileged young lady again.'

Concepita then drew her cloak even lower so as to hide her face while her knees were then held together by her scarred arms and calloused hands. Sweat then dripped down her cheek as she suddenly had trouble breathing.

'I miss my home. I miss my mom nagging me to wake up early. I miss my father that would listen to my complaints from work. I miss not having to nightmares and an uncontrollable itch on my face.'