Dead Mech

by Jake Bible

  “No, I fucked up. I know.”

  “I’m talking about you and Mathew.”

  Surprise overtook Rachel’s features. “Mathew? I thought this was about the Rookie.”

  “The Rookie is with Jay and Masters. He’s taken care of for now. I just need to know that your relationship with Mathew isn’t getting in the way.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Good.”

  ***

  The four mechs left the hangar.

  Bisby’s headed East, Mathew’s West, Masters’ and the salvage mech due South.

  “Good luck everyone,” Mathew said over the com.

  “You too,” Masters answered. Bisby just grunted.

  “Don’t play the hero, Jespers,” Jay warned. “You get into any shit, you call for help.”

  “Not to worry. Same thing for you. We know how you can be when in the city/states.”

  The Rookie looked over at Jay. “What does that mean?” Jay ignored him.

  “Pretty sure my credit is cut off everywhere. Not much trouble I can get into.”

  Mathews, Masters and Bisby all snorted.

  ***

  In the distance, but well within the base’s sensors, a dead mech watched the mechs spilt up and head their separate ways. None of them noticed the observer. It waited until the live mechs were off its scanners before moving in closer to the base.

  The deader desperately wanted to do a full scan of the base and all its systems, but knew they would detect him then. The dead mech stopped, realization opening up new data streams in its AI. It had referred to itself as a him. He had given himself identity other than an it.

  He watched.

  Chapter Three

  Part One- Red Legs & Ranchers

  Alarms sounded in the salvage mech’s cockpit. Jay tapped his com. “Masters?”

  “Yeah, got it. Something’s on the other side of that second ridge due east.”

  Jay glanced at the Rookie and smiled. “Wanna take a scouting break?”

  The Rookie looked around. “Out here?”

  “Gotta learn sometime, Rookie,” Jay said.

  “Um, sure.”

  “Great!” Masters laughed. “This’ll be fun.”

  “Park over by the first ridge. Shouldn’t take long to hike up and get a good view,” Masters said.

  “Hike?” the Rookie asked.

  “Yes, hike. What? Did you think we were just going to drive over and say ‘Hi’?” Masters laughed again.

  ***

  The heat was unbearable.

  The climate processors must have finally gone, June thought. I ain’t gonna last long out in this shit.

  She flicked the thermo sensors on, scanning her surroundings. There, ten clicks out, was a cool patch. She zoomed the scanners in and saw the mouth of what she hoped was a deep ravine.

  I can hold up in there until night; wait for things to cool down.

  She knew the dangers of traveling at night with limited capabilities. It would be very difficult to pick out the swarms of zombies against the rapidly cooling rocks and earth.

  ***

  Masters hopped from his mech’s ladder and strode towards Jay and the Rookie.

  Jay handed the Rookie a small backpack. “Strap that on. Anything happens and that pack will keep you alive for at least a couple of days.”

  The Rookie started to open the pack.

  “Leave it be, Rookie. It takes forever to get it all back in there,” Masters said, taking a second pack from Jay.

  “What’s in it?”

  “Life, kid. Your tablet has a full inventory. Shall we?” Jay said, motioning to the ridge they needed to crest. “We only have a few more hours of daylight.”

  ***

  June glanced back and forth from her control panel to the ravine, watching as her mech’s systems started to shut down, and hoped it would hold together long enough to get her to cover. She didn’t want to end up exposed out in the waste, not that holed up in a ravine was any more secure.

  Buzzers sounded and a loud clanging, clanging, crunch signaled the end of the ride.

  Her mech ground to a halt about two hundred yards from the ravine.

  “Shit,” June muttered. She shut down power, grabbed her gear and unlatched the cockpit.

  The sun blazed.

  ***

  “I know you can fight and all, but I have to question why Capreze sent you with us,” Masters said, handing the Rookie an auto-carbine and two magazines. “I don’t even know if you’re trained to use one of these.”

  The Rookie pocketed the extra mags, popped the one out of the carbine, cleared the chamber and slammed the magazine back in. “Not an issue.”

  The Rookie slung his carbine, following Jay and Masters up the ridge.

  “We really are a slapdash bunch of yahoos,” Jay laughed. “Good thing we’re all crazy as fuck, otherwise we’d be dead by now.”

  ***

  Sweat pouring off of her, June collapsed into the shade of the overhang that was the mouth of the ravine. She risked a shallow drink from her canteen, hoping the ravine still held the water that had cut it out of the rock.

  She brought her knees to her chest and rested her forehead against them, trying to fight the sobs. Despite her military training, years of mech experience in the waste and the untold thousands of undead she had obliterated, she could never control the tears.

  She gave up and rolled onto her side, letting the emotions take over.

  ***

  “So why are we watching a deader instead of killing it?” the Rookie asked.

  “Pay attention,” Masters replied.

  The Rookie focused his binocs on the dead mech in the valley below. The thing was scorched and scarred, lumbering from wreckage pile to wreckage pile, kicking at the debris. A mass of zombies followed.

  “I don’t-” the Rookie stopped, noticing the dead mech’s legs. “Is that paint?”

  “Nope.”

  One of the zombies came too close, enraging the machine. It stomped on the creature then turned on the others, quickly pulverizing them under its massive feet.

  “That’s Red Legs. He hates everything.”

  ***

  Bisby checked his sensors and fumed. Nothing. Not a goddamn thing anywhere.

  “Jethro?”

  “Yeah Biz?” Jethro answered over the com. “Whatcha got?”

  “Jack shit. You?”

  Jethro checked mini-mechs Two and Four’s vid screens. All were void of any movement or sign of dead mech activity. “Nope.”

  “I should be out with Mathew looking for June, not on some wild deader chase!”

  “I don’t disagree, Biz, but the Doc thinks, and Capreze agrees, that we need to know what’s up with the deaders more than we need to find an AWOL mech pilot that’s lost her shit.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know…”

  ***

  “You have names for them?” the Rookie asked in disbelief. “But, don’t we kill them when we see them? Why bother with names?”

  Masters gave Jay and the Rookie a look of angry sorrow.

  “That’s the plan kid, but it doesn’t always work out that way. Sometimes they kill us and all we have is vid clips of the battle. That’s how most of these have been named,” Masters answered bitterly.

  “Most of them?” asked the Rookie, catching the disclaimer.

  Jay cleared his throat. “There are a couple we’ve met, battled and…”

  “And…?”

  “And we were lucky to get away.”

  ***

  The dead mech, (Shiner, he named himself Shiner, he didn’t know why, but it was his name. Shiner.), sat in the shadow of the mesa, tucked between rock outcroppings and finished tinkering with One.

  He set the mini-mech down and powered it up. Nothing.

  If the dead mech could have frowned, it would have. He lifted the mini-mech up and turned it over in his hands, puzzled. He tinkered some more.

  Setting One down, Shiner tried again. Still
nothing. Rage started to build and Shiner had to use all of his self-control not to smash the mini-mech to tiny bits.

  ***

  Mathew had tried to follow the massive footprints left by June’s mech, but the wasteland was already reclaiming them, the wind whipping about and the sand flowing back to its original unmarred state.

  “Dammit.” He pushed his sensors to full power and scanned the horizon, but as he expected, nothing showed up. She had too much of a lead and had been zig-zagging so much, deliberately making it hard to follow her, that Mathew couldn’t even guess which direction she may have gone.

  He sighed and pushed on, planning on covering as much ground as possible before returning by sundown.

  ***

  Shiner wasn’t sure how to process ‘frustration’ and the raging hunger from the zombie pilot strapped into his cockpit wasn’t helping.

  Shiner fired a plasma blast into the side of the mesa, showering the area with rock and debris. The act of violence focused him and his frustration and anger subsided. It also made him acutely aware he could have just alerted any mech in the area, living or dead, to his presence.

  He set all sensors to full and scanned the area. At the far edge of his readings a mech stomped through the wasteland. Curious, he continued scanning.

  ***

  “So what’s the plan?” the Rookie asked as the three descended from the ridge.

  “The plan?” Jay asked.

  “To go after the deader. After Red Legs.”

  Masters laughed. “Kid, our only plan is to get to Foggy Bottom and avoid deaders at all costs.”

  Jay stopped and turned on the Rookie. “We have a whole base relying on us coming back supplied. Combat can wait.”

  “I just thought-“

  “How long do you think we can last in the waste without med supplies?”

  “It can be done,” the Rookie grumbled, pushing on.

  Jay and Masters shared a puzzled look and followed.

  ***

  Shiner noted the heading of the mech as it moved out of range of his sensors.

  With renewed determination he lifted One again and went back over his modifications. Nothing seemed out of order and he couldn’t figure out why the mini-mech wouldn’t activate.

  Frustration returning, Shiner lashed out smacking One brutally and sending the mini-mech skidding across the dirt. Instantly One buzzed to life, righted itself and approached Shiner, waiting for its commands.

  Shiner opened his cockpit and withdrew a cable, plugging it into One. In milliseconds trillions of bits of information transferred from one mech to the other.

  ***

  June pulled herself together and stood up, brushing sand and dirt from her uniform. She hefted her pack and carbine, checking and securing each strap, readying herself for the climb down into the ravine.

  “Nothing like a good cry,” she said, her words echoing off the ravine’s walls as she descended. She hoped to find a perch or nook, not liking the idea of being trapped down at the bottom if she needed to make a quick escape.

  The weight of the pack bit into her shoulders, but she ignored the pain, paying close attention to her footing and handholds.

  ***

  “Hey Biz?” Masters called over the com pushing the system to its limits.

  “Yeah. What’s up?” Bisby answered.

  “I got Red Legs for ya if you want it.”

  “Shoot me the coordinates.”

  The com crackled and hissed from the distance between mechs. “Done. Oh and, um…”

  “What?”

  “Be careful. Red Legs is a tough one and if it’s changed like One Arm, you’ll need back up.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Now that I know what I’m fighting ain’t nothing going to stop me.”

  Masters was silent for a moment. “Okay. Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Bisby turned his mech towards Masters’ coordinates.

  ***

  One obeyed.

  It had been told what to do, where to go and it was doing just that.

  Stay out of sight. So it hid.

  Stay off sensors. So it did.

  Follow, observe, report. Follow, observe, report. These were its commands, these were its reasons for existing; for being allowed to exist.

  It observed and reported back about the live mech it was following.

  One knew this mech. It had visual memory of this mech, of it being repaired, it being deployed and it returning.

  But returning to and from where? That was old programming. That was wiped.

  One obeyed.

  ***

  “Pilot Jespers to base… Pilot Jespers to base… Hey assholes! Anyone manning the com?” Mathew yelled.

  “Fucking chill Matty!” Jethro barked back. “Since your girlfriend is busy plotting our deaths in the kitchen I’m having to monitor you, Bisby and Two and Four! So fuck off!”

  “Sorry, man. Listen, I’m lost out here.”

  “Your instruments aren’t working?”

  “No, dumbass, I mean I have no idea which way June could have gone. The trail is cold and I’m searching blind.”

  “If you weren’t blind wouldn’t it just be called following?”

  “I fucking hate you sometimes,” Mathew growled.

  “Fuck you too, Jespers.”

  ***

  June splashed the cold water onto her face, lifting her head and letting it drip down her neck. She breathed deeply and started to relax a bit.

  She sat on the bank of the small stream that cut the narrow ravine and wondered what her next move was. Whatever it was, she knew it wasn’t sitting on her ass out in the waste.

  She dipped her canteen into the water until it stopped bubbling then plopped two purification tablets into the canteen. As she replaced the canteen, something in the water caught her eye.

  She leaned in close then gagged.

  ***

  Bisby’s sensors picked up movement.

  “Alright, now we’re talking,” he mumbled, readying weapons as he adjusted his course to intercept. Within seconds he had solid readings and disappointment washed over him.

  His sensors told him he was following a transport of some kind, highly modified and in pursuit of approximately fifty zombies. “Ranchers…”

  Bisby wanted a look. He halted his mech, grabbed his binocs and carbine and just a short hike up a small hill, he had a perfect view.

  Which was more than the transport had since it seemed completely unaware of the dead mech coming up on it.

  ***

  “Oh God…” June placed a hand over her mouth to keep from puking. Staring up at her, just below the surface of the water, was a severed head. And surrounding the head were other heads…and arms, legs, torsos…

  “Oopsy,” a voice said behind June. “Looks like someone found the larder. Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing down here?”

  June spun around and faced a shaggy, dirty man in tattered clothes and boots. She didn’t focus too long on his appearance as the click of his switchblade commanded her attention.

  She glanced at her carbine.

  “Try it, bitch.”

  ***

  “Bisby to base…”

  “Yeah, go ahead Biz,” Jethro responded.

  “Get Rachel on the com for me.”

  “Will do.”

  A brief moment later Rachel’s voice crackled. “Whatcha find Biz?”

  “Looks like I’ve found a deader. The thing’s about to take out a Rancher herding transport.”

  “Can you stop it?”

  “Not in time, no.”

  “Sucks for them. What do you need from me?”

  “The deader is Red Legs.”

  There was a brief silence. “You still there Rache?”

  “Yeah,” Rachel puffed. “Sorry. I’m heading to the hangar now. I’ll be geared up and on my way in five.”

  “I ain’t waiting.”

  “I know.”

  ***

 
“Pilot Capreze! Report to your station immediately!” his commanding officer screamed over the com.

  “I can’t, sir!” Capreze responded. “I have to get home to my family!”

  “Capreze you are risking court martial for this! Possibly execution for desertion! Do you understand!”

  “Yes, sir. But my wife and daughter are more important, sir! I am sorry!”

  “Capreze! I will send the entire UDC con-” His commander’s voice was interrupted by the sound of wrenching metal, shattering glass and a massive explosion. Then the com went dead.

  Commander Capreze came awake, face down on his desk, his cheek wet with drool.

  ***

  One obeyed. Follow, observe and report.

  One didn’t understand this mech it knew, the living one. Why was it going towards the danger?

  The other mech, the dead one, was a crazy mech. Not like One’s…what? It searched its limited memory, but couldn’t find a term. Or didn’t understand the term.

  The mech One knew, was going to be in trouble, even the newly (Born? Created? Altered?) reprogrammed mini-mech saw that.

  One needed to get closer, but that would risk detection. That could mean disobeying, which couldn’t happen.

  Follow, observe, report.

  One jammed all frequencies and sensors.

  One obeyed.

  ***

  Commander Capreze shook his head back and forth, trying to bring himself fully awake. He stretched and yawned.

  “Damn. I’m getting too fucking old for these late nights,” he said aloud in his empty office. “I’m also talking to myself too much.” He laughed at himself then frowned, the soldier in him seriously considering his stability.

  “I need coffee.” Capreze stood and strode from his office, headed to the mess hall.

  I’ll check on Baby Girl and make sure she hasn’t burned the kitchen down, he thought, rubbing at the crick in his neck the impromptu nap had given him.

  ***

  “Hey Jethro?” Mathew called.

  “What the fuck? Am I the base receptionist? You want me to check your calendar to see what dinner you have planned tonight too?”

  “Um, I don’t even know how to respond to that,” Mathew said.

  “Sorry. Looks like Bisby is about to get in the shit and Rachel’s heading out to back him up. I’ve got two mini-mechs in the waste I need to get turned around and headed back to base. So what do you need?”