by Jake Bible
“When what?” Melissa asked, her eyes watching everyone, looking for any sign of deception. “How did this happen?”
“I don’t know,” Jethro said. “It could have something to do with their shared technopathy. If they were in contact when Rachel died, then maybe…”
“Finish your sentences,” Capreze said. “I need information here, Jethro.”
“I don’t have any,” Jethro admitted. “This is all new to me. All I can do is try to find Beth. Maybe she knows more.”
“And how do you intend to talk to her?” Melissa laughed. “I thought you were just going to find data.”
“After seeing this, and some of the readings I’m getting, I don’t think it works that way,” Jethro replied.
“You don’t seem to think shit,” Melissa snapped.
“Do what you can, Jethro,” Capreze said. “I can’t wait around for this. Ms. Bretton? You are needed now. You have suits to fabricate. Jethro will get whatever data he needs to start manufacturing BC. Until then make as many as you can.” Capreze turned and started to walk from the mainframe room. “Ms. Bretton?”
“You expect me to leave Beth here with her brain hooked up to some yahoo that can’t tell me what’s going on?” Melissa snarled. “Fat chance, asshole.”
Capreze closed on her quickly. “I guess our earlier talk didn’t sink in. You are needed. Thousands of lives depend on your skills. You can help and be a hero or not help and be a murderer. Your choice. But I need it right now.”
“You have got to be kidding-.”
“NOW, MS. BRETTON!” Capreze roared.
“Jesus fuck!” Melissa called out. “Okay, I’m coming.” She whirled about and pointed a finger at June. “She dies and I hold you responsible.”
June shrugged. “I’ll do what I can, but I make no promises.”
Melissa shook her head and stalked past Capreze. “You people are fucked up.”
Fifty-Four
“We’ll have a small window of time,” Jay said as the convoy of mechs, mini-mechs, the Hybrid, and Railer train proceeded north across the wasteland. The BTTs flew overhead, invisible from eyes and sensors. “Once we hit those fucks then I’ll fall back and start dropping generator relays. When things go kaboom I have a fraction of a second to activate the shield. I miss that timing and the EMP from the blasts will knock out the generators. We all clear on that?”
“I heard ‘Kill shit, fuck shit up, kill shit, Jay is whining, kill shit’,” Masters said. “That about it?”
“I’m gonna make sure you’re inside that shield, Masters,” Jay growled. “Fucker.”
“We got it, Jay,” Harlow said. “Ignore the idiot.”
“Hey, we could both die today. Don’t you want to make up before that happens?” Masters asked.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Bisby bellowed. “Are you gonna do this now, Masters? While we’re all listening?”
“I just wanted witnesses when she says she loves me,” Masters replied.
“Man, you are sad,” Specialist Grendetti said from the Hybrid. “Seriously fucking sad.”
“Nothing sad about being able to tell someone you love how much you care for them before you can’t ever say it again,” Mathew said. There was a long silence on the com.
“Way to bring it down, Matty,” Masters said. “Anyone know a good war song we could sing to get in the mood?”
“It’s when you say shit like that, Mitch, that I’m glad I’m not sleeping with you anymore,” Harlow snapped. “Fucking asshole.”
“Whoa, is this pick on Mitch Masters day or something?” Masters asked. “Come on, guys! We’re marching to fight fucking techno-zombies! Let’s get pumped!”
“I believe you have let your mouth run again, Pilot Masters,” Stomper said from the front of the convoy where the thinking mechs took point. “It is a character flaw you have not worked on since I have known you.”
“Thank you!” Jay shouted. “Out of the mouths of mechs come the truth!”
“You guys all suck,” Masters said. “Big, rotten deader cocks. Suck, suck, suck.”
“Hate to break up this fascinating conversation, folks,” Styles 2 said from above. “But you are two ridges away from thumpin’ and bumpin’ with some serious undead. Oh, and if you have taken the time out from the school girl drama, you’ll see on your sensors that it ain’t just walking dead that’s coming at ya.”
Everyone checked their scans.
“That’s a lot of metal mixed in there,” Jay said. “You folks think you can handle it?”
“As long as we aren’t tripping over your scrawny ass,” Bisby said. “We’ll be fine.”
“What the hell did I do?” Jay barked. “Don’t be turning on me, Biz.”
“Dear, God!” Lt. Murphy shouted. “Will everyone shut the fuck up and focus!”
“I might suggest y’all focus on the metal,” Styles 13 said. “We can zero in on the zombies.”
“So you want us to march out there while you’re firing all around us?” Bisby asked. “What could possibly fucking go wrong?”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Styles 37 laughed. “The BTTs can surgically remove a donkey’s cock from 10,000 feet.”
“Jeezus,” Masters said. “I have no idea what that means, but I’m glad you do.”
“Okay, folks,” Lt. Murphy ordered. “Weapons up. All systems double check right now. From this point on we’re running hot and won’t stop until we wipe these fucks from the planet!”
“See!” Masters whooped. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
***
“I want a count!” Norton ordered. “I want to know exact numbers!”
“There are ten normal sized mechs, sir,” a tech announced. “One Hill Stomper, and seventeen mini-mechs. There’s that hybrid transport. And a train. I believe they are called Railers in the wasteland.”
“That’s all they sent?” Norton laughed. “Sad, really.”
“Sir? We have strange readings above them,” another tech spoke up. “Not sure what it is.”
“Above them?” Norton asked. “Nah.” He tapped his chair’s console and brought up the readings. “Shit. BTTs.”
“But, sir, wasn’t the only one destroyed?” a tech asked.
“Maybe,” Norton said. “That’s what the Three reported. But I don’t trust anyone with facts unless I can verify. Have all transports ready missiles. The second we have confirmation of aircraft I want them to lock on and fire. I don’t know how many there are, but I want them brought down!”
“Yes, sir,” the tech replied and relayed the order.
***
The mechs crested the last ridge at a dead run with Stomper in the lead. They came down the side with mini-guns rolling and cannons ready. Lt. Murphy parked the hybrid at the top of the ridge while Jay prepped the shield generator relays. The Railer train was a mile off and circling about, switching tracks to get closer to the action.
“Once you engage do not stop for anything!” Lt. Murphy said. “Launch the RPGs with the nanobots first! Get that shit spreading! But remember what Jay said, once we know that we have to nuke it all there is a very small window! Listen! Stay sharp! And stay safe!”
“Fuck yeah!” Masters hollered as the mechs hit the front line of techno-zombies.
“And don’t break that mech, Masters!” Jay shouted. “I can’t keep building new ones for you! You too, Harlow! And Bisby!” Jay muttered under his breath. “Like damn toddlers with their damn toys!”
“Never tell a mech pilot not to break something as he’s going into battle,” Bisby replied. “Like telling a deader not to get teeth marks in their food.”
“Shut the fuck up and fight, dumbasses!” Harlow said. “Here we go!”
Stomper began to do what he was made for and stomp the hell out of as many techno-zombies as possible. He was surprised by the screams of pain that echoed across the field. He was not used to deaders crying out. He had to fight the urge to apologize for every group he smashe
d under foot.
Bisby, Harlow and Masters let their nanobot laden RPGs fly. The Cans used counter measures and detonated the RPGs in the air, which was just exactly what Jay had expected them to do. The rockets exploded and cast the nanobots all across the techno-zombies, showering them with their own possible demise.
Harlow, outfitted with new blades for her mech, dove at an oncoming Can as she kicked techno-zombies out of her way. She too was troubled by the screams and howls as she crushed the undead troopers, but she pushed the sounds away. Her focus had to be on the big metal. The nanobots would help with the techno-zombies, she needed to take out some Canadian mechs.
She hit one in the cockpit with her shoulder and rolled off it to her right, coming up on one knee. Her left blade slashed out as the Can tried to get to its feet, slicing the torso in half. Blood splattered across the field as the Canadian mech pilot had his legs taken off. Hunks of metal and pilot fell to the field.
Harlow moved on quickly as the techno-zombies feasted on the screaming pilot.
Bisby, wishing he had One Arm as his mech (he shoved that thought quickly away, as guilt for leaving the mech behind at the sight of the first battle bubbled up), made due with the mech Jay had given him. It was big, it was ugly, and it had one arm, but it wasn’t One Arm. That mech had true guts. But Bisby didn’t let that stop him as he lowered his shoulder and dropped down onto a Canadian transport, crushing the front completely.
Living troopers poured from the back, but Bisby was ready for them as they brought up their rifles and took aim. He rolled to the side and opened up with his 50mms, shredding the troopers into human confetti. Techno-zombies from all around leapt onto the fresh blood and body parts, creating chaos for the others trying to continue marching. Bisby didn’t stay to watch. He got up and ran towards the next transport, ready to repeat the move.
***
The Styleses watched and waited. The plan was to let the mechs do as much damage as possible and only reveal themselves if they were needed. Or when it was time to go boom. If the mechs could handle the army then they’d just play clean up.
“18 here,” Styles 18 said. “You guys get the feeling we’re being watched?”
“I always have that feeling,” Styles 23 replied. “Comes from being grown in a fucking test tube.”
“It was a vat,” Styles 29 said. “A test tube couldn’t even hold our dicks.”
They all laughed in unison.
“Well, keep eyes open boys,” Styles 18 said. “We may be stealth, but if they start shooting up that will end quickly.”
***
The mini-mechs stood in a row, spaced out with fifty yards between them. Their mini-guns whirred to life and opened fire, mowing down the first row of techno-zombies.
“Do not let them pass,” Hollow Eye ordered. “You are unmovable metal.”
None of the minis responded, but Hollow Eye knew they would do as ordered.
“Take you marks,” Hollow Eye said as he sent a scan of the Canadians to the other mechs with individual Cans color coded for each of the thinking mechs. “Be smart in your attacks.”
“To do less would be blasphemy,” Bad Shell replied as he sent three RPGs at his first target. “I will not shame myself today.”
“There will be no shame for any of us,” Shiner said as he ducked under an oncoming missile. He returned fire at the transport that had attacked and ripped the front to shreds. “Today is what we were made for.”
Thunk landed in the middle of a transport, nearly flattening it completely, as he unloaded his 50mm guns into a Can that had turned to engage. The Can shuddered and danced as the BC was ripped apart. He watched it try to auto-repair, but a well timed RPG turned the machine into a cloud of shrapnel. Thunk rolled off the transport and lifted it up as a shield, letting the smashed vehicle take impacts for him.
He got up and tossed the transport into another one, sending a fireball high into the air. Thunk ducked a swing from a Can as it came at him, but he missed the follow kick that caught him in the left knee. His bulk crumpled to the dirt and he barely blocked another blow that came straight for his center, looking to take out his control system.
“Here,” Awl Good said as his massive drill pierced the Can and sent twirls of BC flying in all directions. The scream of the CMP was cut short as the pilot was turned into blood mist by the drill. Thunk grunted his thanks. “Always, brother.”
The thinking mechs pressed the attack, joining Harlow and the others as they moved deeper into the fray.
***
“Precise shots!” Marin shouted as the tops of the rail cars opened and manned missile arrays raised into the air. “Paint your targets and fire! Do not just open up! We have friendlies in that shit!”
She received the acknowledgement she was looking for and flipped a switch, arming all missiles. Each of the Railers took careful aim, making sure the targets were far enough away from a friendly mech as possible.
But the chaos of war is not one of perfection.
***
“Incoming!” Harlow shouted as she dove to her right, splattering a few dozen techno-zombies, as a missile impacted just a few yards from her. Her mech shuddered from the explosion and from the impact of the transport that was just obliterated. “Looks like Railers are up and firing!”
“We are,” Marin confirmed. “So keep eyes open, people!”
“You get too close to me,” Bisby warned. “And your people will end up with an oversized mech boot in their asses. Got that?”
“Same team, Biz,” Masters said as he grappled with a Can. He brought up his knee, expected the mech to counter, which it did, and then used the Can’s momentum to flip the machine over onto its back. “Dial down the threats.”
Masters put an RPG directly into the Can’s cockpit. He couldn’t help but notice the look of terror on the pilot’s face. He didn’t care, though. That’s what they get for being rookies trying to fight in a real mech pilot’s war.
“Sucker bitch,” Masters said as he spun and fired into a Can closing on his back. The explosion sent him onto his ass, but sent the Can into ten different directions. “Looks like the ‘blow them to shit so they can’t repair’ plan is working. Hell, yeah!”
“Shut the fuck up, Masters,” Bisby said. “We don’t need your play by play. ”
“Hey, Biz,” Masters laughed. “Remember when the Rookie kicked your ass that first day he showed up? That was great. Loooooved it!”
“Fuck you,” Bisby snarled as he ripped the arm off a Can and swept its legs out from under it with it. “When we’re done here let’s see who’s still standing.”
“The only thing worse than fucking girl drama is listening to you two bicker,” Harlow said. “How about you put your tiny dicks back in your pants and just fight. Sound good?”
“Hey, baby,” Masters replied. “Maybe instead of me fighting Biz, you and I can go out and paint the wasteland red? Maybe reconnect? Maybe?”
“How about you go out into the wasteland by yourself and let me know how it goes,” Harlow suggested. “Try not to chafe too much. Be sure and bring your lotion.”
“Okay,” Bisby laughed. “If that’s gonna be the chatter then I’m all for it. Keep on talking, Mitch. Can’t wait to hear what she says next.”
“You guys suck,” Masters responded as his legs were taken out by a transport. He lashed out with a fist and ripped through the transport’s hull. He snagged about ten troopers in his fist and crushed them into pulp. “I die today you’re going to wish you were nicer.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Bisby smirked.
***
The techno-zombies swarmed up Stomper’s exoskeleton, threatening to topple him. He grabbed at them, flung them into the ground, stomped them, ripped their limbs off, but they kept coming. As fast as he could destroy a group, another group would attack. Then the first group he’d destroyed would reform and join the attack.
It was wave after wave of the same techno-zombies; a relentless cycle of rea
nimated violence.
“Coming in to help,” Styles 15 announced. “Looks like the tide is turning.”
Styles 15 was right. The techno-zombies, Cans, and transports had gotten over their shock of the brutal abilities of the attacking mechs. Now they were on the offensive, pushing forward with everything they had.
BTT after BTT materialized in the air above the battle, their cannons aimed at the massive swarm of techno-zombies. As one they opened fire and row after row of marching undead fell. The other mechs had to watch their movements carefully, no longer able to wildly attack, otherwise they’d catch the hell that was raining down on the enemy.
“Close shave, guys,” Harlow said as bullets ripped into zombie troopers by her feet. “Make sure not to nick me. It stings when I moisturize my legs.”
“You just hold tight, little lady,” Styles 39 laughed. “This ain’t the first time I’ve gotten this close to a pretty woman. I’ll have you smooth as can be in no time.”
“You’re lucky that accent you have is charming,” Harlow said. “Or I’d have to make you eat those words when we’re done.”
“Darlin’, I’d eat anything you gave me,” Styles 39 replied. “And then go back for more.”
“Hey!” Masters shouted. “Not cool, man.”
“Hey, bud,” Styles 39 said. “From what I’ve heard you ain’t got no brand on that heifer no more.”
“Okay, I don’t know what a heifer is,” Harlow growled. “But I’m not taking that as a compliment. You just blew your chance, airboy.”
“Ha!” Masters yelled. “In your face, cloney!”
“Shut up, Mitch,” Harlow grumbled.
“You keep telling me to shut up, but all I hear is ‘I love you, Mitch’,” Masters said.
“You need to have your ears checked,” Harlow responded as she put her fist through a Can and ripped the pilot right from his seat.
