This Machine Kills

by Steve Liszka

  Despite the painful fog in his brain, he attempted to lift his head but was quickly aware of Rudy looking down on him with his foot raised, ready to bring down on him with all his weight.

  “Goodnight asshole,” Rudy said.

  After that there was only darkness.

  Chapter 20

  In his dream, Taylor walked along the beach, his feet splashing in the warm, shallow water. He was holding hands with the girl from the postcard he had been handed in the Old-Town. The woman had retained her curvy body and large breasts, but it was Charlotte’s face he was seeing as they splashed through the surf. She turned and smiled at him then looked out to the massive expanse of crystal blue water. They were the only people on the beach. It felt like they could have been the only people left in the world, and although they didn’t speak to one another, they were both happy. Taylor prayed for the dream to never end.

  When consciousness finally dragged him away from the idyllic shores, it left him not only with an acute throbbing pain in the front of his head, but also anger that he may never go back there again. He opened his eyes and stared at a grey metallic sky overhead. It was only when he heard the dull roar of the engine that he realised he was in the back of the Rhino, looking up at its roof. He tried to lift his head but that only intensified the pain in his skull so he gave up and let it fall back to the ground. He heard a grunting sound and wasn’t sure if it was him who had made it.

  “Looks like he’s finally awake.”

  Taylor looked up to see Rudy’s face hovering above his own. He was lying in the aisle between the two bench-seats. His eyes moved to the left and saw general issue boots attached to a pair of legs that may or may not have been Rudy’s.

  “Hey Doyle,” Taylor could hear Lennox’s voice but not see him, “your boyfriend’s back.”

  “Where are we?” he asked, not quite trusting that the voice he could hear was his own.

  Rudy’s head had disappeared from Taylor’s view by the time he started talking again.

  “We’re in the Old-Town. You’re going to speak to the boys in the interrogation suites, they’re pretty anxious to hear what you got to say for yourself.”

  The Rhino went over a pothole and Taylor’s head came off the ground before coming back down with a thud.

  Lennox’s face now appeared above him, “Careful there Sarge, we don’t want you hurting yourself. Might as well leave that to the boys who know how to do it properly.”

  The interrogation suites were situated in the production centres and used not only as a means to gain information from prisoners, but also as torture rooms for people who caused trouble on the production line. Those problems could be anything, no matter how minor, which prevented the centres from reaching their economic potential.

  “You know Taylor,” Rudy said, taking the lead, “I never had you down as a cold blood killer…but then again, I suppose you do have a history of this type of thing.”

  It was only when he thought about lunging for Rudy, did he realise his hands were cuffed behind his back.

  “Leave him alone Rudy.”

  He instantly recognised the voice as Doyle’s, “Jenkins said we weren’t to engage with the prisoner.”

  “Well, Jenkins isn’t here is he?”

  Rudy’s head appeared above him once more, “Oh you’d love this one. He’s too fucking scared to ride in the back, worried we may offend him or something… At least you sat with us, I’ll give you that much.”

  Rudy looked to the area of the Rhino Lennox had been situated in and gave a small nod before returning his gaze to Taylor.

  “You know, I’ve been thinking about what happened at the school and I realised that we were both wrong. You see, you were in the wrong for hitting me and letting your nigger buddy fight with us, and me, well I was wrong for not doing what I should have done,” he cast his eyes to Lennox again, “but now’s the time to change that.”

  He spoke into his throat mike, “Hey Sergeant Jenkins, we need to stop the Rhino, Taylor is having some sort of fit back here.”

  “No!” Taylor heard Doyle shout, then for the first time since he had awoken, saw the youngster as he lunged directly over the top of him and throw a punch at Rudy, knocking both their heads out of his line of vision.

  “Spike!” Doyle shouted, but before he could say anything else, Lennox lunged at him. He pushed Doyle into the corner of the Rhino, using his massive forearm to crush the boy’s windpipe and prevent him from finishing his warning message.

  “What’s going on back there?” Taylor heard a faint voice say in one of their ear-pieces.

  He kicked out at Lennox’s leg in an attempt to move him off Doyle but he was too weak; he couldn’t even budge his squat muscular calf off the floor. A sudden, crushing pain in his chest brought his lame efforts to an end as he instantly lost the ability to breathe. Skinner had left his turret and stamped down hard on his sternum, crushing his chest and forcing any remaining air from his lungs. As he lay gasping for breath, he knew that as far as this struggle was concerned, he was out of the game. His chances of survival were no longer his to control.

  The Rhino ground to a halt, and Taylor, who had somehow managed to roll onto his front in his attempts to breathe, could now see Lennox force his weight onto Doyle. He looked like a rag-doll as his colossal team-mate pushed him further up the wall. Doyle tried to hit out at Lennox’s arms and chest but as his face grew redder in colour, so his strength dissipated. If Lennox didn’t relax his hold soon, the boy would be unconscious.

  Rudy stepped over Taylor and threw the doors of the Rhino open, allowing the sun to pour in on them.

  “Hold him down,” he instructed Skinner, whose foot was now pressing on Taylor’s back, “this won’t take long.”

  As he stepped out of the vehicle Rudy looked back at Taylor and gave him a wink. There then followed a few moments of silence, where as he struggled for breath, he thought that perhaps he had got it wrong, maybe they weren’t out to do what he was dreading most. He didn’t think any of them had the balls to go there, not even Rudy.

  His answers, all seven of them, came ringing loudly and succinctly into Taylor’s ears. There had been no other sounds, no cries; just the gunshots. Before he could think about the enormity of what had just happened, Rudy appeared again at the doors of the Rhino. A solitary speck of blood lay on his chin, close enough to his mouth that he could have licked it off with his tongue had he chosen to.

  “It’s done,” he said.

  The Rhino grew darker again as Skinner removed his foot from Taylor’s back and stepped out of the vehicle, temporarily eclipsing the sun.

  Rudy scratched his face with the butt of his pistol, smudging the blood spot, “Grab him”

  As he had no shirt on, Skinner grabbed Taylor by the back of his jeans and slid him out. He hit the ground face first, catching a mouthful of dust and grit but he didn’t care, at least he was beginning to catch his breath again. Doyle came flying out of the vehicle seconds after, landing inches away from him. Lennox followed him out of the doors, brushing his hands clean of any dirt they had accrued in the commotion.

  Rudy spoke again, “Bring him round the front, let him see what happens when people get too big for their boots.”

  Taylor felt himself levitate as Skinner once again picked him up by the belt-line of his jeans. He carried him with such ease, he may as well have been taking a bag of rubbish to the bin store. After a few quick steps, Skinner dumped him back on the ground. The first thing he felt were his nuts being crushed as they made contact with the earth. Writhing in pain, Skinner grabbed his hair and pulled his head so far back he felt like his spine was going to snap in two.

  The Rhino looked like it had been involved in a crash. Spike’s body was slumped at the steering wall, his hands outstretched at his sides. Only the trickle of blood peeking out from the corner of his mouth betrayed the notion that he was having one of his naps in the midday sun. Even though Taylor couldn’t see any bullet wounds, the windscreen i
n front of him was splattered with blood.

  Rudy squatted down so his face was level with Taylor’s, “I bet you fifty dollars the fat fuck didn’t see that coming.”

  Past Spike, Taylor could see no sign of Jenkins but his door was open and the bullet-proof window was scuffed and bloody where a shot had bounced off it. It was only when Skinner pushed his head back to the ground, was he able to look underneath the vehicle and see the young Sergeant’s upper torso hanging out of the door.

  “Sorry about your friend, dog,” Skinner said.

  Rudy positioned himself above him like he was about to take a piss,

  “That’s right. I told that fat prick I’d get him, just like I said I’d get you. That’s the thing about me, I only say what I mean.”

  Taylor, who had rolled onto his back so he could see his tormentors, squinted at the sun that burnt his eyes.

  “I’ll get you,” he coughed, “I promise.”

  Skinner looked to Rudy. Unlike the ringleader of the coup, he was clearly anxious,

  “Shouldn’t we just get this over with? There could be hostiles around.”

  Rudy reached up and patted the bigger man on the shoulder,

  “Relax. This scumbag just killed our Sergeant and driver. Don’t you think we should teach him a lesson first?”

  Rudy kicked out at Taylor who had only just managed to get his head off the ground. His foot connected solidly with the man’s jaw, sending him hurtling back to the dusty ground.

  “Go on,” he said, “when was the last time you got to hit one of your superiors?”

  Skinner smiled, “When you put it that way…”

  He lifted his former boss up by the throat and with the other hand punched him in the face. Taylor felt his nose cave-in as he was

  reintroduced to the ground. Skinner looked up into the air and howled like a dog.

  “Leave some for me,” Lennox said as he walked towards the melee. He was holding Doyle in front of him with his pistol aimed at his head. As he walked, Doyle rubbed at his throat, his face still ruddy from their struggle. When he got to the others, Lennox turned to face Rudy.

  “What do you want to do with him?” he asked, nodding at Doyle.

  Rudy’s voice lowered, “I already told you, just sit him down there for now, we’ll deal with him later.”

  Lennox pushed Doyle towards the ground next to Taylor, “You heard the man.”

  As he sat down, Taylor shared a look of concern with him. He felt guilty for the kid. Up until that moment he’d always been there to look after him, but at the moment Doyle needed it most, he was helpless.

  Lennox stamped his foot down on the bloodied man’s balls. Taylor almost threw up with the pain.

  “You nearly caved my skull in you piece of shit,” he pointed to the injury on his head that Taylor was unable to see due to his eyes being closed in agony.

  “You’re going to pay for that, motherfucker. I swear to God.”

  Skinner again looked to Rudy, unable to disguise his worries,

  “Let’s just do it, I’ve got a bad feeling about this place.”

  Rudy tutted, “Ok chickenshit, but first…”

  He kicked Taylor in the ribs, curling him tightly into a ball. Lennox and Skinner joined in and together they laid a volley of kicks into the foetal mass. After a minute or so of unrestrained violence, they backed away at the same time, exhausted by their toil.

  “Ok,” Rudy panted, “that’s enough. Just do it.”

  Before Skinner could raise his shotgun, Doyle stumbled to his feet and stepped between him and Taylor.

  “If you do, you’re going to have to kill me first.”

  The others looked to each other then simultaneously burst out in laughter.

  Rudy shook his head at Doyle’s naivety, “You actually thought you were going to come out of this alive? How do you think the Sarge was able to get his cuffs off and commit his little killing spree? That was your fault Doyle, you helped him so we had no choice but to take you down too.”

  “It’s nothing personal” Lennox chipped in, “but you were way too far up Taylor’s ass for us to bring you in. It’s a shame this had to happen, personally I think you’re not a bad kid.”

  Doyle smiled at him, “Thanks Lennox. That makes me feel so much better.”

  Skinner laughed, “See that’s why we like you Doyle, you’re a funny guy.”

  The almost jovial scene was interrupted by Rudy smashing the butt of his pistol into Doyle’s face, knocking him to the floor.

  “They may like you,” he said, “but I don’t, and in case you’re wondering, that was for the cheap shot you got on me earlier. Now sit there and enjoy the show.”

  With his path now clear, Skinner cocked his shotgun at aimed it at Taylor who was slowly uncurling himself from his protective ball.

  Skinner shrugged his massive shoulders, “Sorry dog.”

  When he heard the shots ring out, Taylor was pleasantly surprised to discover they were not swiftly followed by searing pain and his imminent death. He’d always thought dying would be a lot more painful. His confusion quickly ended as Skinner toppled towards him like a giant redwood tree that had been felled by a lumberjack. He was only partially successful in rolling out of the way, yelping as the corpse crashed down on his legs.

  Gunfire exploded from all around as Lennox and Rudy emptied their weapons at the enemy Taylor could not see. Judging from the way Lennox was firing wildly into the air as he screamed Skinner’s name; it was unlikely he could see who was shooting at them either. Taylor tried to look for his saviours but the movement created a sharp jabbing pain in his ribs, making him gasp for air. He thought he must have broken one of them at the very least, in which case making it the first major broken bone he had suffered in all his years of fighting. It was funny the things that people thought about when they were caught in the middle of a firefight.

  Despite the sound of guns, he could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness and he welcomed the invitation; at least it would bring an end to the pain that surged through his body. Just as his eyes grew heavy and were about to close, he felt himself being roughly shaken by the shoulder.

  “We need to get out of here!”

  Doyle had crawled the short distance that separated them; somehow managing to avoid getting himself shot.

  Taylor was barely able to shake his head, “No,” he whispered, “stay down.”

  He wanted to say more; to tell Doyle that getting up would only make them targets and more liable to be shot, but his insides hurt every time he opened his mouth. Instead, he stayed quiet and hoped that Doyle had the sense to do the same. Before he could surrender himself to the darkness, he was interrupted by an ear-piercing scream. He looked up to see Lennox writhing in agony on the ground, clutching at his stomach.

  “Rudy help, they’ve fucking shot me!” he screamed.

  Rudy looked down at his partner; his face a mixture of pity and disgust. After unloading the rest of his magazine, he threw his assault rifle to the floor then turned and ran as fast as he could along the dirt road they had travelled down. As Taylor’s eyes finally gave up their struggle and closed, he wondered what the chances were of Rudy making it back to the City in one piece.

  Part 3

  "All of you cowboys, fight for your land."

  Woody Guthrie

  Chapter 21

  When he woke it was dark, not just the dark of night but pitch-black. After a few long seconds when his eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the blackness, panic set in. Taylor couldn’t get the thought out of his head that he had lost his sight as a result of the beating he had taken. It was only when he felt a gentle pressure against his nose, did he realise he had been blindfolded. He tried to work out what time of day it could have been; he had no clue how long he had been asleep. It may have been hours but could just as easily have been days.

  The room he was in was cold, so it was either night or he was being held in some underground basement where the warmth of the summer
did not penetrate. Judging from the smell of damp and mildew that infiltrated his nostrils, he thought it was the latter. He hugged the thin blanket that had been thrown over him tighter to his body but he was still cold. They could have given him a shirt, he thought. Then again, at least he was still alive.

  When he was asleep, he had again dreamt of walking along the beach’s white sands with Charlotte. This time he’d had trouble imagining what she looked like. In the dream, her face kept morphing with that of his mother, until in the end he could not remember either of their true images. All he could see was this new hybrid woman that shared both of their looks. As he stared at her, she would subtly change and adopt more or less of each of the women’s features. The dream had unnerved him and he’d woken in a cold sweat.

  Taylor became aware of a rustling noise that may or may not have been nearby.

  “Doyle?”

  Hopefully whoever had taken him prisoner had taken the boy too and not given him the same treatment as Skinner and Lennox.

  “Sarge?”

  He breathed a sigh of relief, “Are you ok?”

  “I’m fine… I think.”

  His voice sounded distant, like he was in another room. Taylor felt a cold chill against the top of his aching neck and realised that he had been sleeping against a wall. He sat up slowly, using his legs to push him further up the wall until he was upright. The change of position caused his head to scream out in pain, making the frequent hangovers he experienced feel pleasant in comparison. Not only were his ribs in agony but so too were all the muscles that surrounded them as he tried to summon their help to keep him vertical. He brought his knees up and dug his feet into the ground to help stabilise him.

  “What happened?” he asked when he finally settled in a position of relative comfort.

  “After you blacked out, a group of hostiles appeared and brought us to this place. I was blindfolded but I’m pretty sure we were walking south. It must have been a good ten-minutes before we got here.”