My Atomic Angel Read online



  My Atomic Angel

  G.L. Miller

  My Atomic Angel

  By G.L. Miller

  Copyright 2014 G. L. Miller

  Table of Contents:

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Table of Contents

  My Atomic Angel

  Author Bio

  My Atomic Angel

  To the rest of the world she’s known as the Atomic Woman, Earth’s one and only defense against the monsters called Titans. To me, she’s Jenny, and I love her more than anything else in this world. She’s my atomic angel.

  My name is Richard Barnes, and I am a member of A.TO.M. As I stand on a level of scaffolding built into the side of a huge cavern beneath a mountain in Utah, I watch her on one of a dozen large monitors. She’s on the other side of the country, the Florida coast, fighting a prehistoric leviathan that emerged from the Atlantic Ocean 48 minutes ago.

  The other members of A.T.O.M. race to different levels of the complex, taking up their support stations. A team of more than 50 scientists, engineers, military specialists, and medical experts comprise the staff here, all with the singular purpose of training, equipping and otherwise keeping the Atomic Woman alive. Nearly a hundred neurosurgeons, cardiologists and physical therapists keep watch over her vitals as she engages the beast in combat.

  Above me, General Cullen shouts orders and maneuvers into his headset. A private satellite relays these commands to the circuitry woven into Jenny’s mutated nervous system, allowing her to hear him as clearly as if he were right next to her, and react just as quickly.

  “Duck and run!” I hear him bark. On the screen, Jenny darts under the creature’s clumsy swipes. It bellows reptilian fury, but she just smiles at it.

  “Watch the tail!”

  The monster’s serpentine tail lashes out from behind it, whipping through the air at unbelievable speed. Jenny vaults over the incoming attack, twirling in mid-air and landing behind the big brute. She rams her elbow into its spine, eliciting a satisfying roar of pain.

  She’s so amazing. At 240 feet tall, her body weighs over 60,000 tons, yet she moves with the grace of a dancer. Physics says it should be impossible for her to move at all, but physics went out the window long ago. Whatever kind of crazy molecules make up her and the monsters she fights, they play by their own rules. And the impossible is what Jenny does for a living.

  “On your right!”

  The creature rounds on her, its long neck closing the distance faster than she can react. I see a flash of yellow fangs and my heart skips a beat. They sink into her right arm, through the thick armor of her padded bodysuit, armor equivalent to the hull of an aircraft carrier.

  “Epidermal breech!” Dr. Sinclair shouts from the medical level. Alarms begin to sound, red lights flash. Jenny’s been hurt. My knuckles go white as I grip the railing.

  Below me, the med-team goes into action. Dr. Sinclair assesses the damage, the cardio-squad immediately starts flipping switches and adjusting dials. The artificial life-support system built into Jenny’s suit starts pumping her full of chemicals I can’t even begin to pronounce.

  On the screen, the leviathan yanks furiously on Jenny’s arm, snarling like an attack dog. Jenny slams her fist into its head, but it won’t let go.

  “Heart rate elevating.” The cardio-squad’s tempo increases. More chemicals are ordered.

  “Stay calm.” General Cullen orders her, “Remember your training, stay in control. Knee to the jaw! Now!”

  It’s a good strategy, but Jenny can’t comply. Faster than any of us could believe, the thing hoists Jenny off her feet and flings her into the air, slamming her back to the ground.

  “Spinal stress at 45%.” One medic shouts.

  “Reading minor fractures on the fourth and fifth vertebrae,” says another.

  “Adrenaline levels rising!”

  “Oh God.” I whisper.

  “Core temperature report!” General Cullen yells to the science wing.

  “Holding at 800 degrees Celsius!” Professor Wexler answers back in a thick German accent. I let out a small breath of relief at that news. Jenny’s internal nuclear reactor isn’t in danger of going critical. Not yet.

  “Put us in, coach!” Captain Davis’ voice blurts over the loud speaker. “MVP needs backup!” Davis and the Red Hawk Squadron are always itching to get in on the action whenever Jenny goes to work. I wish they could handle things like this instead of her.

  “Remain in stand-by position, Captain.” Cullen says.

  “Come on, Pete. She needs help down there.” The Captain never likes to sit on the bench. I don’t like it much either.

  “You have your orders, Captain.”

  “Roger that.” Davis grumbles and cuts his mike I can hear him cursing up a storm inside that cockpit and I can’t say I blame him.

  Other members of the team not engaged in vital functions start to congregate around the monitors. A.T.O.M. is more than just a military institution; we’re a family. When Jenny goes out, we all wait with baited breath, praying she’ll come home safe and sound. That’s our baby out there, alone against the world.

  No, not alone. We’ll never let her face this battle alone. For sixty years, the A.T.O.M. team has been watching over Earth’s guardian angel. Ever since the first Atomic Woman took up the battle against the Titans in the late 50s, the elite Special Forces of the Anti-Titan Ordnance Militia have been there to support her.

  I stand amidst veterans, second and third generation members of this organization that opposes the Titans. My own parents were personnel here. I was born in this very base, just like Jenny. Of course, my delivery didn’t require my mother be injected with 400 tons of cadmium.

  “Radiation spike!” Wexler cries and a different alarm starts blaring. My eyes dart back to the screen and I see it start. Jenny is heating up.

  Her eyes flash, blazing like suns. Her left hand ignites, shining with power. She slaps her palm over the monster’s face, digging her fingers into its skull. Its flesh is seared by the white-hot touch and the creature shrieks in pain, finally turning loose of Jenny’s arm.

  She rolls away, cradling her injured arm, using the heat to cauterize her wound. She snarls, glaring at her enemy. Her eyes turn red. I know what’s coming next. So does everybody else.

  “Atomic discharge has not been authorized!” Cullen yells at her.

  They don’t call her the Atomic Woman for nothing.

  “Do not fire, do not…” But Cullen’s too late. Nuclear fire erupts from Jenny’s eyes, lancing through the leviathan like it was nothing but a fish stick to be microwaved. I can only imagine the smell. The sound is even worse.

  “Core temperature 950!” Wexler reports.

  The coastline around them is turning into scorched wasteland. Palm trees ignite and wither away to ashes, beach houses smolder, sand turns to glass, and the ocean boils.

  “Cease fire! Cease fire, damn it!” General Cullen’s usual stoicism is gone. He knows exactly how bad this will get.

  “Core temperature 1020!” My hand slips inside my jumpsuit and clutches the small crucifix around my neck.

  “Dear God, please.” I whisper.

  “Jenny! Stop!” Cullen screams.

  Mercifully, the beams fade and flicker out. Jenny shakes her head, holding her temples. Blood trickles from her eyes, but the red glow doesn’t leave them. She’s not done yet.

  She takes stock of her opponent’s current state. Its torso is mostly an open, smoking wound. It bleats in pain, then roars in anger. Jenny plants herself and tenses. I hear the beeping of the heart monitors speeding up.

  “Adrenaline levels at maximum.” Dr. Sinclair says.

  Jenny lunges forward. Even from here, I can feel the
ground tremble with every step she takes. The thing manages to whip its tail around again, but Jenny’s too revved up. Her burning hand bats it away, nearly melting it in half.

  As the monster recoils, she cannons into it with her left shoulder, knocking it off balance. Her right fist shoots forward, plowing into its seared solar plexus. The shockwave shatters the crystallized sand around them.

  She’s going full tilt now. Her every blow is tearing the monster apart, pulverizing its flesh and shattering its bones.

  She won’t stop. I can see it in her eyes. As much as I fear for her, nothing terrifies me more than when Jenny gets like this.

  “G-Cell formation confirmed!” The medical team exclaims.

  “No.” my mouth goes dry. It happened so much faster this time. Why? Why does this happen to her?

  “Code White!” Cullen shouts.

  “Roger, going in.” Davis and his squad leap into the fray, but their target isn’t the Titan. It’s Jenny.

  The Titan isn’t anyone’s problem anymore. Jenny wrenches its head from its body and hurls it back out to sea. Her howl of triumph is inhuman.

  “Administering adrenocortical sedative.” Dr. Sinclair hits a button