Dead Mech

by Jake Bible

  “You don’t know me,” Masters said. “You know nothing about me.”

  The green line on the floor stopped at a thick steel door. “Oh, Mitch, Mitch, Mitch, I know everything there is to know about you.”

  The door slid open revealing a large room covered in vid screens and emergency light twirling about casting red shadows about the room. Masters’ attention was instantly drawn to the images.

  ***

  “So are we going to light this place up or what?” Kafar asked, his body twitching with homicidal anger. “I got to shoot something.”

  “Hold, Specialist,” Lieutenant Murphy ordered. “That goes for all of you. Just hold. Any more thoughts, Pilot?”

  “I’m as lost as you are, but you’re right, we should just hold and see how this plays out,” Mathew replied.

  “Excellent choice,” Johnson said. “I like how you’ve developed your character’s initial rash suicidal motivations into a more cautious, dare I say hopeful, attitude. It’ll keep you on the stage longer.”

  “I fucking hate the theatre,” Grendetti grumbled.

  ***

  Masters stared at the vid screens, his stomach churning with grief and hatred. “What the fuck is this?”

  “Oh, Pilot, did you think the UDC would just let people run amok? Did you think the city/states were autonomous? Did you honestly think your little mech base was an oasis, a desert island in the vast sea of the wasteland? And you all are the saviors?” Johnson snorted with derision. “Please.”

  On every vid screen were images of Masters and Harlow going at it. In the mech barracks, in the shower, in supply closets, the one time in Capreze’s office. Everywhere.

  ***

  “You sick fuck,” Masters whispered, his breath catching in his throat. “You’ve been watching us?”

  “Idiot!” Johnson barked. “You have always been watched! Every inch of society is wired, there is no privacy, there never has been! Before me someone else watched and someone else before them. Every tiny detail of your pathetic lives has been recorded and stored!”

  Masters swayed then shook his head, trying to pull it together, to shut out the images, the memories, the pain, the loss. “Shut it off. Shut it off now. SHUT IT OFF GODDAMIT!”

  “No,” Johsnon responded. “This is why you’re here.”

  ***

  “You’ve known all along? You’ve known what we were up to? That we weren’t going to go quietly,” Masters said, glancing around the room, his eyes falling on a far corner draped in shadows, the red lights barely illuminating a reclined figure. Masters slowly walked towards the corner, his finger resting on his pistol’s trigger guard.

  “Known? Are you really that stupid? Haven’t you gotten it yet?!? Jeezus how were you ever trusted with a mech?!?” Johnson snarled. “Fucking morons, all of you!”

  “Explain it to me then,” Masters said, inching closer to the corner.

  “I am! Look!” Johnson roared.

  ***

  Masters shifted his gaze from the corner to the vid screens. Each one showed a different view: empty streets, empty shops, empty houses, empty rooms.

  “Still not getting it,” Masters said.

  “This is now. All across the city/states, the ever so empty city/states,” Johnson said. “This is then.”

  The screens blinked and 100 different scenes lit up the room. People living, working, playing, laughing crying.

  “It’s all here,” Johnson continued. “The entirety of our cozy little part of the world. All recorded. Even you Mitch.”

  The screens became parts of one image, a young boy playing with a plastic toy.

  ***

  “Turn it off,” Masters growled staring at the image of the boy, as he played with his little plastic mech. “You have no fucking right.”

  “I HAVE EVERY RIGHT!” Johnson roared and Masters had to cover his ears. “Sorry for that. Just watch.”

  Masters shook his head, but didn’t take his eyes off the screens as a man came into frame. The little boy looked up at the man, his eyes wide with fear. The man stumbled slightly then yanked the toy mech from the boy. He shook it in the child’s face and tears brimmed in the boy’s eyes.

  ***

  “Would you like to hear what he’s yelling?” Johnson asked cruelly. “There’s sound with this picture.”

  “No,” Masters whispered. “I know what he’s yelling.”

  The man took the toy in both hands, snapping it in two and flinging the pieces at the boy’s face. The child burst into tears and the man struck him across the cheek. When the child wouldn’t stop the man began to pull his belt from his jeans.

  The screens went dark.

  Johnson sniggered. “You see why I wanted you here, Mitch? You understand the pain of having something you love taken by those you trust.”

  ***

  Masters focused again on the reclined figure in the corner. He sniffed a little then laughed it off. “What was taken from you then? Huh? Somebody take your dolly?”

  Masters stepped closer to the corner and the figure began to take on detail. “You think we are the same somehow, right? Betrayal bond and all that? Come on, what did they take?” Masters could almost make out the figure fully now.

  “They took my life’s work! They stole what was mine and took the credit! Selling it to the highest bidder! It wasn’t for them, for their profit and greed!”

  ***

  “Who did? The UDC? What’d they take?” Masters casually asked, getting closer to his goal with each step.

  “They took my babies! My nanobots! I made them, I grew them, programmed them! They were mine!” Johnson cried. “Talk about no right! They didn’t have the right to do that! Not after all my work. My life’s work!”

  Masters was close enough to look upon Johnson and he nearly gagged. The man was a living skeleton, his emaciated skull encompassed by a crown of wires. Tubes were jacked into his arms, his legs, his abdomen.

  “Jeezus, what are you?” Masters gasped.

  ***

  “I AM THE OUTSIDER!” Johnson exploded, his lips never moving, his eyes unfocused. “Just like you Mitch, just like you.”

  “I don’t think you did your research, buddy. I was one of the cool kids, one of the guys the others wanted to be around,” Masters said. “Try again.”

  “Now you’re lying to yourself, Mitch,” Johnson responded condescendingly. “Do I need to show you more vids to prove it? You have always been an outsider, hiding the secret, the secret of shameful beatings, the secret that no one loved you.”

  “We all have secrets, Johnson. They hardly set me apart.”

  ***

  “We’re here!” Jenny shouted. “Holy fuck look at them all!”

  Everyone stared at the vid screens and out the windows of the train engine.

  “The tracks run right through them,” Timson said. “They’re just standing there. Why haven’t they turned to engage?”

  “Who fucking cares!” Jay called over the com. “Let’s knock ‘em down and take ‘em out!”

  “On your mark, Jay,” Marin said.

  “Don’t wait for me, hit that shit!” Jay shouted.

  Marin activated the sonic disc and once again everyone felt the pressure. They stared outside as row upon row of motionless deaders dropped to the wasteland ground.

  ***

  “Ahhhh! You’re friends are here at last!” Johnson said. “We’ll just wait for a few more to arrive and then the party can start.”

  “There isn’t going to be a party,” Masters said raising his pistol.

  Johnson’s laugh echoed about the room. “Oh, please! Put that away. You don’t want to kill me. That would be very bad.”

  Masters’ lowered the pistol slightly. “I thought you brought me here to kill you?”

  “No, stupid! I brought you here to keep me company. I need a witness to share this with, otherwise what’s the point.”

  Masters raised the gun again. “Bullshit.”

  ***


  “Put the gun down, Mitch,” Johnson said. “You kill me and you die also.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” Masters responded.

  “So do all of your friends. Did you figure that?” Johnson said. “Do you know how this mainframe works?”

  “No and I really don’t care.”

  “It has to have human integration at all times or the fail safe is triggered. This makes sure the mainframe’s AI can’t take over. This ensures that it doesn’t become a Dead Frame.” Johnson laughed at his little pun. “If you kill me there is a thirty minute window before this entire complex goes fully nuclear.”

  ***

  The Railer train sliced through the fallen deaders while Jay, Rachel and Commander Capreze shoved transports off the tracks.

  “Three minutes and they still aren’t up,” Marin said over the com. “Maybe there was a glitch earlier.”

  “There wasn’t, I’m sure of it. I don’t know why they’re still down,” Jay responded. “The tech checks out. All readings are normal.”

  “Should we light them up?” Rachel asked.

  “No, let’s get the train to the stronghold,” Capreze said.

  “Smells like a trap to me,” Timson added.

  “I’m sure it is,” Capreze replied. “But we need to see what kind of trap.”

  ***

  The Special Ops team stared in astonishment as the deaders fell like a wave rippling towards them.

  “What the fuck?” Sol said looking up at Shiner/Mathew. “Did you do that?”

  “No, but I have a good idea who did,” Mathew responded, activating his com. “I really hope that’s you guys.”

  “Matty!” Rachel shrieked. “Oh, thank God you’re alive! I was going to gut my father if I found you dead.”

  “Hey now! Let’s not make this personal. A Commander has to make the tough calls,” Capreze responded. “I see Stomper, where’s Masters? His ass is mine!”

  “He’s inside,” Mathew answered.

  ***

  “I kill you and the whole mountain goes up?” Masters asked incredulous.

  “That and everything within 100 square miles. All reduced to radioactive dust,” Johnson replied.

  “Why would the UDC do that? Who fucking cares if some AI takes over! They didn’t give a shit with the mechs. They could have easily put a failsafe in to keep them from becoming deaders. You’re full of shit!”

  “The mechs did have a failsafe! The UDC took it out! Don’t you get it, Mitch? The wasteland is one giant social experiment! It’s not about the survival of the species! It never was!”

  ***

  As the train came to a stop, Commander Capreze halted his mech and surveyed the area. Motionless zombie bodies covered the ground while inert UDC transports sat there like hunks of useless metal.

  Then his eyes focused on Shiner. Something about the mech was familiar, something his fatigued and over-stressed brain couldn’t quite grasp.

  “Pilot Jespers?” Capreze called over the com.

  “Yes, sir?” Mathew responded.

  “Your mech is an old one, isn’t it?”

  “You could certainly say that. Although Shiner has made some self-improvements as his consciousness has grown. Oh, and he doesn’t like being referred to as ‘my mech’.”

  ***

  “Okay, we’re here. Can we light them up now?” Timson asked annoyed.

  “I don’t have any objections,” Capreze said. “Mathew? Any insight?”

  “Other than I have no idea what the fuck is going on anymore? No, sorry Commander, my brain is mush. I say if we’re all going to die, let’s go out guns blazing,” Mathew replied.

  “All going to die? I thought Masters was inside taking out this Outsider guy,” Rachel said.

  “I have no idea what’s going on inside. Masters is in there because the Outsider wanted him in there. He could be dead for all we know.”

  ***

  “And speaking of social experiments, look what you’re friends are doing,” Johnson said, the vid screens coming back to life, showing Masters a full view of outside the entrance to the stronghold. The mechs and the Special Ops team were all torching and blasting the inactive deaders and transports. “Put a bunch of soldiers and pilots in an unknown situation, up the tension, imply their death and look what they do! They kill! This is what I’m talking about, Mitch! The experiment at its height! Too bad the UDC brass are all dead, they’d get a kick out of this.”

  ***

  “Why’s he letting us do this?” Mathew asked, demolishing his fifth UDC transport. “This doesn’t make sense.”

  “That is precisely why he is letting us do this,” Shiner responded.

  “You lost me.”

  “Dr. Johnson has integrated with the mainframe AI. His consciousness is everywhere in the stronghold. His brain has become too active, too aware. There are so many Dr. Johnson’s within the mainframe now that I do not believe he knows his motivations any longer. To use a phrase, he has cracked.”

  “That’s why he kept changing his mind again and again. The fucker has gone schizo,” Mathew exclaimed.

  ***

  “So, where’s the trap?” Timson asked seated next to Marin, operating one of the train’s weapons control stations. “We’ll have these fuckers wiped out within the hour. They won’t even be getting back up.”

  “Yeah, way too easy,” Marin agreed. “I’m waiting for the other boot to drop.”

  Jenny listened to her com for a moment then turned to Timson. “I am getting requests across the train to disembark. Can we start letting people out. The clean up crew is getting restless.”

  “Don’t see why not. Sitting ducks in the train or sitting ducks out of the train,” Timson replied.

  ***

  Masters squeezed his eyes shut tight, ignoring Johnson as the madman prattled on about UDC motivation and manipulations. His head felt like it was going to explode with all of the information that was being thrown at him. All he wanted to do was end the pain. All he wanted to do was kill the person responsible for Harlow’s death.

  “Shut up,” Masters whispered. “Shut up. Just shut up.”

  Johnson ignored Masters’ pleas and kept on.

  “I SAID SHUT UP!” Masters roared rushing to the side of Johnson’s chair and jamming the barrel of his pistol against Johnson’s shriveled forehead.

  ***

  The room went quiet. “You don’t want to do that, Mitch,” Johnson said. “There’s still so much I want to tell you.”

  “Why?!?” Masters shouted. “Why does any of it matter?!?”

  “It matters to me, Mitch. It matters to me. And I am in control, Mitch, not you. So step away and put the gun down.”

  Masters tried to shake the confusion from his head. “Why? You can’t stop me!”

  “Oh, Mitch, you silly egotistical mech pilot. You only know what’s right in front of you. Look up.”

  Masters looked above and saw the mini-gun turrets for the first time.

  ***

  “Those guns are an extension of me. No matter how fast you think you are, you’re finger isn’t faster than my thoughts. You’ll be dead before you know it and then all your rage will be for nothing,” Johnson laughed. “Just step away, Mitch. You’ll get your revenge, I promise.”

  Masters backed off and slowly put his side arm into its holster.

  “That’s a good boy,” Johnson soothed. “All in good time, Mitch.”

  Masters glanced up and watched the turrets track him. He began to study the rest of the room.

  “Oh, there’s much more, but don’t strain yourself looking.”

  ***

  Lieutenant Murphy watched as teams of Railers set the zombie corpses not already burning into piles and set them aflame.

  “Sir?” Specialist Sol asked. “Can we bury Austin instead?”

  The Lieutenant turned to her 2nd in command and gave him a stern look. “Bury him? Why would we do that?”

  “Kafar already put two in h
is brain. He’s not getting back up. I just thought, maybe we could do something different,” Sol looked away. “My grandfather told me of how they used to bury the dead. There were entire city blocks dedicated to and set aside to honor the deceased.”

  ***

  As the last of the deaders were permanently dispatched, Rachel walked her mech over to Shiner/Mathew. She un-strapped and opened her cockpit.

  “You better open that hatch and get the fuck over here!” she called to Mathew.

  He frowned and shook his head. “No can do, baby. I’m kind of stuck for the time being.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Get over here!”

  “I am sorry Pilot Capreze,” Shiner’s voice sounded over the loudspeaker. “But if Mathew disengages my consciousness will cease to exist. I cannot allow that.”

  “You’re holding him hostage?” Rachel shouted. “Are you shitting me?”

  ***

  “What’s going on?” Commander Capreze asked, walking his mech next to Rachel’s.

  “The fucking AI is holding Mathew captive!” she yelled. “Something about keeping its fucking consciousness.”

  “Like we discussed before, sir,” Mathew said. “But I’m not really a captive. We just need to figure out how I can disengage without Shiner disappearing.”

  “Mech, this is Commander Capreze. Can you hear me?”

  “Of course,” Shiner’s voice sounded over the com.

  “Good. Listen, I don’t take kindly to you trapping my pilot in your cockpit.”

  “I assure you Commander that-“

  “Don’t interrupt.”

  “I apologize.”

  “Now, how do we resolve this issue?”

  ***

  “I should just blow my head off,” Masters mumbled. “End this torture.”

  “Do that and I kill your friends where they stand,” Johnson replied.

  “You’re going to kill them anyway, right? So what difference does it make? What difference does anything make?”

  “Kill them anyway? Hardly! They’ll all be given a fighting chance. The next wave of walking dead is hours away,” Johnson snickered. “Of course, they aren’t the real danger.”