Fighting Iron 2: Perdition Plains

by Jake Bible

  “Okay,” Clay whispered. “Gonna have to figure out how the hell to get out of—”

  He didn’t have a chance to finish. He and Paige were sucked away from the ledge, pulled down into the suddenly swirling liquid. He wanted to scream, but instinct told him to take a deep breath and hold it instead. It was the right thing to do.

  The experience wasn’t entirely new. It was a simple reverse of how he’d entered the flesh mech the very first time. They were sucked down and out of the cockpit, pulled by the whirlpool of nasty liquid. In seconds, they had been swept through half the mech and were expelled out of the back of one of the legs. Luck was on their side since the leg was bent at a very unnatural angle, otherwise they would have been ejected directly into the ground.

  Clay held Paige to him as they rolled a couple of meters until coming to a painful stop against a dead hound. He gripped her tight to his chest, catching his breath, spitting gunk from his mouth, and stared up into the grey clouds above.

  “Paige?” he asked. “You in there?”

  “Mmm hmmm,” she replied.

  “Phew,” he sighed.

  He’d gotten to her. He gotten into the mech. He’d gotten out of the mech, although not necessarily by choice. He’d done his job.

  There was a far-off rumble and Clay swore.

  “Great,” he said. “Another storm. Just what we need.”

  He heard the rumble again and realized it wasn’t the clouds above. It wasn’t a rumble from the sky, but a rumble from the ground. Despite his entire body protesting, Clay managed to get Paige off of him enough that he could push up on one elbow and see past the dead hound next to them.

  Roller wagons. A whole hell of a lot of them.

  The rumbling he heard and felt was from the hooves of the tweeners pulling the roller wagons across the plains. They were headed straight for them.

  “I hate the Midlands,” Clay said and collapsed back to the ground.

  He lay flat and his mind whirled with possible plans. They all involved shooting a bunch of Perdition Plains’ townsfolk, so the plans were useless since he had no revolver. Clay briefly wondered if he hadn’t become a little dependent on that pistol of his. A little voice inside him said that he needed to expand his thinking.

  Another voice said to stay right where he was and not to move a damn muscle.

  That was a strange voice. When it spoke again, Clay realized it wasn’t so strange after all. Well, it was since it was completely flat, a monotone utterance without any rhythm or cadence.

  “Gibbons?” Clay whispered.

  “See,” Morley’s voice cut in. “I told you I could outfit this mech with organic coms.”

  “Stay where you are, pal,” Gibbons said. “I have you on the scanners. Don’t move and we’ll get you out of your little pickle of a problem.”

  “Little pickle of a problem?” Clay laughed. “You have no idea how funny that sounds with that freaky voice of yours.”

  “Don’t care,” Gibbons said. “Just stay put. Things are going to get hot real fast.”

  Clay didn’t have time to even think of responding. The sky above him turned into fire and flame as a battery of rockets streaked by only meters over where he lay. As much as Clay wanted to do what Gibbons had said, he couldn’t help himself. He sat up just enough to see over the dead hound.

  Roller wagon after roller wagon went up in flames. Some of the drivers managed to jump clear, but most didn’t. Their screams echoed across the plains as they burnt to death, the noise joined by the wails of the tweeners as their harnesses kept them strapped to the burning vehicles.

  The few roller wagons that hadn’t taken rocket hits immediately ordered their tweener teams to turn around and flee. They swerved around and dodged the bloody pyres that littered the prairie. Some of the tweener teams pulled up short, refusing to pass the burning bodies of their still alive brethren. The drivers of the roller wagons got them moving again with shock poles and static-charged whips.

  Clay watched the chaos with pure delight. He thought he was done for; he thought Paige was done for. He had been half ready to make peace with his demons and step into the hereafter. But Gibbons had come through once again.

  The battle mech slowly approached where Clay lay with Paige. Its massive feet shook the ground, but Clay knew Gibbons was being as cautious and careful as he could with the giant machine.

  “Sweet hell, Clay,” Gibbons said. “You look like squirrel crap wrung through cheesecloth.”

  “Nice image, buddy,” Clay said as he took a couple deep breaths. The smell of death filled his nostrils, but he didn’t care. He was alive and had a battle mech standing watch over him. He raised a weary arm. “Gonna need some help here.”

  “I figured as much,” Gibbons said and lowered a huge hand to the ground.

  Morley stepped off the hand and rushed to his daughter, nearly shoving Clay out of the way.

  “Don’t mind me,” Clay said.

  “She is unconscious,” Morley said as he checked his daughter over. “We received the flesh mech’s distress call and hurried here as fast as we could.”

  “How’d you get my mech working?” Clay asked. He turned his head and studied the machine. “You got the flesh patches to work when Paige couldn’t.”

  “Yes, well, Gibbons was kind enough to let me in on a secret of some of the make-up of your mech,” Morley said. “Once I knew that, it was a simple matter of applying the proper electrical charges to the flesh patches. The repairs are hardly permanent, and you will need to use metal parts if you want your machine to be battle ready or able to handle long-distance travel.”

  “But the fixes worked well enough to get the Perdition folks off our asses,” Clay said. “I appreciate it.”

  Morley lifted Paige up into his arms and carried her back to the waiting mech hand.

  “You got a little more strength to you than one would think, Barnes,” Clay said as he watched the old man set his daughter down in the open hand.

  “Nothing is ever as it seems, Mr. MacAulay,” Morley replied. “Stay where you are, I’ll be back to assist you as soon as I get my daughter secured in the cockpit.”

  “I’ll be right here waiting,” Clay said.

  He went back to staring up at the grey clouds. He could see them moving as the breeze turned into a decent wind. He hated those clouds. He hated the plains. He hated the smell of rot and death.

  Once his mech was serviceable, it was time to pack up and get the hell gone from the Midlands.

  Twenty-Three

  Clay managed as much of a shower as he could with the less than stellar facilities the caverns had. Mostly it was him standing naked in an alcove, tallow candles lit around him, while he dumped bucket after bucket of cold water over his head. At least there was plenty of soap, although Clay preferred not to think about where some of the ingredients came from.

  Once he was refreshed and dressed again in clean clothes, Clay joined Gibbons in the main cavern. A plate of salted meat was waiting for him along with a glass of something frothy and a tall pitcher of the same beverage next to it.

  “Morley says it’s a cross between an ale and mead,” Gibbons said. “It’s his opinion you could use some to help you unwind.”

  “He’s damn right in that opinion,” Clay replied as he took his seat at the table and sniffed the glass. It had a sweet smell with a bitter floral scent underneath. He took a cautious sip, smiled, downed the rest, and smacked his lips approvingly once the glass was drained. “Oh, he is certainly right.”

  Clay refilled the glass and plucked a hunk of salted meat from his plate. He sniffed that too then took a bite, proceeding to shove the rest in his mouth as soon as he was certain it hadn’t gone off. He finished his plate, downed another glass of the beverage, then turned sideways and stretched his legs out on the bench he sat upon.

  “Talk,” he said to Gibbons.

  Gibbons had an empty plate in front of him, which held the remnants of something congealed, and Clay quickly
averted his eyes. He tried to focus his gaze on Gibbons’ eyes, but those were just dead orbs in a blank face.

  “Talk? About?” Gibbons replied.

  “How Morley was able to repair the mech when Paige couldn’t,” Clay said. “She’s the mechanic around here.”

  “But, Morley is the genius,” Gibbons responded. “He’ll be the first to tell you that.”

  “Paige would be the second,” Clay admitted. “Still doesn’t explain—”

  “I told him about the biochrome,” Gibbons interrupted. “But I suppose you already knew that. I don’t appreciate the games, Clay.” He patted himself on the chest. “I know it hasn’t been easy on you these past few days, but look at me. I can feel this body degrading. I feel the cells breaking down. I feel, Clay. Too much. It’s taking all my willpower not to go insane.”

  Clay wanted to respond with some joke, but for once he saw something flicker in Gibbons’ dead eyes.

  “I know, I know,” Clay said. “My apologies, old friend. I’m so used to you being secured in our battle mech that I forgot you’ve been cursed with a flesh and bone body.”

  “And metal,” Gibbons said. “There’s metal in here. With the flesh. There’s a reason these automatons are mindless creatures. Anything above basic intelligence and animal instinct is pure torture.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, buddy,” Clay said. “We’re going to get the mech fixed up then get the hell out of this place. The Midlands can kiss my pilot ass.”

  “That is an unfortunate attitude,” Morley said as he walked into the main cavern from a side passage.

  “But an honest one,” Clay said. “Just trying to be realistic here, Barnes. The Midlands haven’t been kind to me or to Gibbons. We’ll get our mech put back together, get Gibbons uploaded where he is supposed to be, then be on our way.”

  “Yes, well, you will still need metal parts for that,” Morley said. “I’m afraid those parts are right where you left them. At least, with my ingenuity and assistance, you have a mech that works well enough to get you back to the Vernacht. You are welcome to do your repairs there.”

  “I was thinking I could go scavenge what I need with my mech and bring the parts back here,” Clay said. “You do have a nice repair facility with all the tools.”

  “Oh, I am sure an experienced mech pilot such as yourself is used to doing repairs out on the open land,” Morley said. He nodded at the huge passage that led to the cavern’s exit. “You know the way.”

  Clay stood and picked up his empty plate. “You seem like you’re in a mighty hurry to get us gone, Barnes. Any particular reason?”

  “You seem like you are in a mighty hurry to leave,” Morley replied. “I see no reason to stop you. I also see no reason for you to remain here if your only interest is yourself. Despite the danger you put my daughter in.”

  “That I put her in?” Clay laughed. “You have met your daughter, right? She doesn’t need a damn bit of help from anyone to get herself into danger. Hell, you should be thanking me since I’m the one that got her out of that death harness. Genius or not, that’s quite the design flaw there, Barnes. Captains may go down with their ships, but pilots shouldn’t have to die with their mechs.”

  Morley looked as if he wanted to argue then his shoulders sagged and he nodded.

  “You are correct, Mr. MacAulay,” Morley responded. “My apologies for sounding ungrateful. You did save my daughter from almost certain death.”

  “Almost?” Clay asked. “Looked a little more than almost, if you ask me.”

  “That is only due to your ignorance of matters as they stand,” Morley said and held up a hand before Clay could respond. “I do not want to fight with you, Mr. MacAulay. We have saved each other over these past couple of days. I would say our life debts have been satisfied and we can go our separate ways without guilt or obligation. What say you?”

  “I say that sounds just perfect,” Clay said. He started to go fetch more salted meat, stopped, and looked halfway over his shoulder at Morley. “How is she? She going to be alright?”

  “She will live,” Morley said. “She has a long recovery ahead. Fortunately, I can help her on that road. It is one we both have traveled many times.”

  “That so?” Clay asked.

  “That is so,” Morley answered. “Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to return to my daughter and continue my work.”

  “Work?” Clay asked. “Funny way of phrasing it.”

  “Not from my perspective,” Morley said.

  He turned and walked back to the passage he had come from.

  “Morley?” Gibbons called out. “You came in here for something. What was it?”

  “Nothing,” Morley said. “I got what I needed and more.”

  He exited the main cavern, leaving Gibbons and Clay to themselves once again.

  “Well done, pal,” Gibbons said. “We had a comfortable place to work in and you had to go an insult the old man. Now we have to make repairs out in the open, in the weather, just like always. Bravo, pal, bravo.”

  “Leave off, Gibbons,” Clay said. “You weren’t out there. You didn’t see those hounds.” He hesitated. “You didn’t hear her voice when she realized she was going to die.”

  “We’ve both heard folks die,” Gibbons said. “Watched many a live person turn to a corpse before our eyes. Or your eyes and my scanners. What makes her so different?”

  Clay thought for a moment then shook his head. “I don’t know. Honest truth, I don’t. But I have heard folks say they didn’t want to die, but behind their words was a lie. There was no lie with her. She was so sad that it was all coming to an end.”

  “One day we’ll end up someplace where we don’t have a conversation like this,” Gibbons said. “Humans are so damn depressing.”

  “Can’t argue with you there,” Clay said.

  Clay went into the kitchen hut and fetched more salted meat. He came back out and sat down, chewing a hunk while he poured more beverage. Gibbons was laid out on his bench, his hands clasped behind his head as he stared up at the cavern’s ceiling.

  “Barnes knew what biochrome was,” Gibbons said. “The battle mech may not have much in it, but it has enough to make a difference. He didn’t even hesitate as he started to manipulate what he could in order to get the flesh to fuse.”

  “Another reason why we need to get out of these parts and put as much distance between us and Perdition Plains as possible,” Clay replied around a mouthful of meat. He swallowed hard, took a drink, swallowed again, and coughed. “We both know there is way more to Perdition Plains and the Barneses than anyone is letting on. And it ain’t just this business about lazaroti and ghouls.”

  “Yeah, I am seeing that,” Gibbons said. “You think Holcomb can manipulate biochrome? I didn’t think it was possible. Shouldn’t be a person alive left to do that. With some exceptions.”

  “The poly should have wiped out the genetics, but it didn’t,” Clay said. “We live that reality. Just like time should have wiped out the lazaroti, but it didn’t.”

  “Maybe going where we need to go isn’t the best thing,” Gibbons said. “We may want to check out the other territories. See what else might be hiding in mountains and valleys. Could be an entire world of possibilities we’re unaware of.”

  “The mech has those coordinates for a reason, Gibbons,” Clay said. “It’s been programmed. We’re hardly the people to argue with that programming.”

  “I’m hardly people at all,” Gibbons chuckled. The chuckle was like a monotone bleating.

  “No argument here on that,” Clay replied.

  He stared out across the cavern at where the battle mech stood. His eyes studied the organic parts that were hooked into the metal. Flesh and sinew entwined with struts and paneling. It made Clay’s own flesh crawl and he shivered. He downed the last glass of beverage and finished his second helping of salted meat.

  “I’m turning in,” Clay said as he stood and stretched. “You coming?”

&nb
sp; “Unlike you, I got a full night’s sleep,” Gibbons said. “This body doesn’t have levels of fatigue like you do. It has on and it has off. When I’m tired, I’ll sleep, you can count on that.”

  “Good to know,” Clay said. “Maybe you can take the mech out to the Vernacht and start scavenging?”

  “You heard what Barnes said,” Gibbons replied. “He’d rather we do that when we leave. I think I’ll stay right here and keep watch.”

  Clay raised an eyebrow. “You think the old man is a threat?”

  “I think the old man is about as stable as this body,” Gibbons said. “Which is to say that, at some point, he’s going to break down, and it’s all gonna turn into one nasty mess.”

  “Makes me think twice about getting some shut eye,” Clay said.

  “Nah, go on ahead and get your beauty sleep, pal,” Gibbons said. “I’ll keep an eye on Dr. Frankenstein.”

  “Who?” Clay asked.

  “You know that story,” Gibbons said. “I read it to you when we were fleeing the Brazilian Empire.”

  “Right,” Clay said. “That time was a bit of a jumble. Something about a man that creates people out of dead parts, right?”

  “That would be the one,” Gibbons replied.

  Gibbons sat up and looked towards the passage that Morley had gone into. Clay stared that way as well. They were both silent for a long time.

  “You don’t think…?” Clay asked then trailed off.

  “I’m trying not to,” Gibbons said. “But the similarities are uncanny.”

  Clay shook his head and sighed. “I’m getting some sleep. Fatigue is making me paranoid.”

  “I wouldn’t call healthy caution paranoia, pal,” Gibbons said, still staring at the passage. “You sleep while I keep an eye out for the old man. He starts looking like maybe his hospitality has completely run dry and I’ll get us both the hell out of here right quick.”