Intended Extinction by Greg Hanks

closing the soulless eyes.
    “Look, if you two are just going to sit there like a couple of idiots, that’s fine with me. I’m out of here.” The man started for the doors.
    I noticed the small storage room to his right where he had most likely been hiding.
    “Wait!” I said, pulling myself together. I wiped most of the chum from my clothes and went to grab Tara. “We can’t stay here. Let’s at least get somewhere safe.”
    “I . . . I don’t know if I can, Mark,” she replied.
    “Yes you can. You’re strong. We can do this,” I said, offering my hand. I was trying extra hard to keep my eyes forward; the headless corpse behind me, littered with blood and brain matter stung my sanity.
    She daintily grabbed my hand and we left the gruesome scene behind us. We would have time to disengage later.
    “What’s your name?” I asked the stocky fellow.
    “Davidson,” he said brusquely, peering into the twilight.
    “I’m Mark, and this is Tara,” I said, and thanked him for his arrival.
    “I didn’t ask. And you can thank me once we’re safe.”
    “Do you know how to use one of these?” said Davidson, holding the sleek rifle. “It’s an MLM-GR assault rifle, but it looks like it’s got some modifications.”
    “I can handle it,” I said softly, grasping my new toy. I hadn’t shot a weapon for at least six or seven years, but how hard could pointing and pulling a trigger be?
    Covered in a pale steel, with a few glowing lights on the stock, the rifle brimmed with advanced technology. I pulled out the short magazine, checking the number of rounds. Atop the body was a sophisticated sighting system, with built-in zoom capabilities. The suppressor sat flush against the barrel’s chassis. It was armed ready to kill.
    “All right,” Davidson said, “we’ve got to move quietly. Let’s hope we can make it to the other block.”
    I pulled the rear as we followed Davidson into the antechamber. The darkness outside was overwhelming, a giant smothering blanket. Davidson peered out of the glass and nudged the door open.
    A whoosh of air entered the antechamber. I gripped the handle of my MLM tighter and prepared myself for anything. Davidson looked both ways and nodded to us. We hurried behind him and left the Turnmont in our wake.
    Manhattan was chaotic. Shouts and echoing voices flowed from all directions. The glowing light of flames surged to our right, still burning from the earlier attack.
    “Looks like we got lucky,” said Davidson, lowering his shotgun as we crossed the street.
    “We better get rid of these weapons, don’t you think?” asked Tara. Her face was red and her voice sounded as if she were talking through a snorkel.
    “If I hadn’t had this shotgun back there, you two’d be lying in your own pool of blood. No way in hell I’m givin’ this up. Tonight changes everything .”
    I scrunched my nose. “What do you mean?”
    Davidson raised an eyebrow. “Are you two stupid ‘er somethin’? Nothin’ like this has happened since pre-Edge, ‘n now these guys come all dressed up in some sort of high-tech gear, killin’ everythin’ in their path? This is a huge deal.”
    Okay, this guy needed to settle down.
    “Why would someone do this?” asked Tara, looking back to the Turnmont. The exit doors were still alight, the bodies lying where we had left them.
    “Hell if I know,” said Davidson, spitting to the ground. “But one thing’s for sure, GenoTec’ll be all over this place in about five minutes, questionin’ everyone in a ten mile radius.”
    “Slate . . .” I mumbled to myself.
    “What?” asked Tara.
    “Didn’t you hear him? He knew something was gonna happen,” I said, lowering my weapon a little.
    More people were piling around the burning building. It was a good thing we were behind a few stranded cars, otherwise someone might have seen our arsenal.
    “Archturus Slate?” said Davidson, bewildered. “The CEO of GenoTec was at the Turnmont tonight?” He