“Smack!” Cy hit the rifle and made perfect contact, causing it to fly out of the Ker’s grip and land halfway up the stairwell. Again, Cy reared back with the rebar still vibrating in his hand, swinging it with murderous force. The rebar walloped the Ker’s chest and made a respectable dent, barely phasing it.
The Destroyer clenched its metal fist and swung backhanded - Cy ducked.
He felt the wind when the alloy wrecking-ball of a fist smashed into the wall over his crouching body. The Ker’s arm was stuck inside the wall, hung up on heavy gauge steel. Straining to break free, it shook the wall and pulled it down in chunks. Cy launched his body under the robot’s arm, outracing the falling pieces of drywall in a blinding cloud of gypsum. The Ker turned and slashed its freed arm down at the young cyborg, missing. As his body shot forward, Cy reached out and grabbed the corner of the staircase, whipping around like a pendulum and turning with momentum while racing up.
Noticing the damaged rifle, Cy bound the steps and ran until he reached the outside world. He stopped for a millisecond, standing and scanning 360 degrees. Detecting another Ker, Cy dropped and hugged earth. The second Ker was already firing. Cy felt a photon ray whizz over his head sucking oxygen from the air, “Smash!” hitting the concrete near him.
The second Ker hurdled across the open ground, advancing on his position while continuing to fire.
Cy bolted forward and felt the heat from two successive photon blasts passing behind him. “Zzzzzwhhhap!” “Zzzzzwhhhap!” The shots landed in the rubble. His sensors also picked up the Ker that was now coming up the laboratory steps behind him. Shifting into sixth, Cy raced forward at over 32MPH: his top speed.
Both Ker chased, firing and bounding. Losing ground, the Destroyers kept shooting at the shrinking shape, constantly adjusting their targeting systems - unable to keep a lock on the cyborg. Cy zigged and zagged, avoiding the blasts, detecting each shot being fired at him from behind. He was almost at the river when his scanners picked up another Ker waiting for him, straight ahead.
CHAPTER 17 - FROGMEN
“I’ve lived the literal meaning of the ‘land of the free’ and ‘home of the brave.’ It’s not corny for me. I feel it in my heart. I feel it in my chest. Even at a ball game, when someone talks during the anthem or doesn’t take off his hat, it pisses me off.
I’m not one to be quiet about it, either.”
- Navy SEAL, Chris Kyle
California:
Capt. Banks looked out the front windshield leaning between the two pilots and pressed the button on his radio hand set. “Navy SEALs, do you copy? Over!”
“Roger that, sir… SEALs copy you loud and clear!”
“We’re going to land on Silver Strand Blvd and clear a path!” Capt. Banks shouted over the radio.
“Roger that! We’ve got one wounded, sir!” answered the Petty Officer left in charge via attrition.
Jimmy’s heart beat loud and audible through his ears. Not yet having a layer of warm up sweat - this is it, he thought. He was as ready as he was going to get. This is for Mark…
Several Destroyers were positioned on either side of the base down Strand Boulevard. Both Vulcan helicopters descended over the road facing opposite directions while their door gunners unleashed a firestorm. “BBBBRRRR! - BBBBRRRR! - BBBBRRRR!”
The gunners continued shooting Ker, feeling the vibrations of 40mm shells blasting out of their barrels in a stream of fire. Aiming in a blur, they heard the clinking sound of dispersed casings hit the deck as both war-birds touched down. Bullets from the door gunners hit the first wave of Ker on Strand Boulevard, exploding them into flying shrapnel. Firing back at the Marines, the second row of Ker ducked for the cover of buildings and hustled off the street.
Marines exited the choppers and hit the deck after running out a few feet. They laid down suppressive fire, shooting toward the third wave of Ker coming from the distance. “Come on SEALs! Let’s go!” Capt. Banks shouted through the radio.
“We’re Oscar Mike, sir! Hold those birds!” the Petty Officer answered.
The Marines popped yellow smoke grenades and threw them away from both sides of their helicopters.
“SSShhhwap!” Two groups of Destroyers fired their photon rifles at the hurrying SEALs and leveled the side of an eleven-story building. Their guidance systems were excellent but they didn’t have a clear shot. The two Ker that made it deep into the peninsula chased after the SEALs from behind, firing.
“Crack! Crack! Crack! SSShhhwap!” the Marines opened fire on the two Ker that were pursuing the SEALs between the buildings. Shooting with an array of conventional rounds and photon blasters, the Marines continued firing as a Marine SGT yelled instructions. “Use grenades!”
The SEALs broke out past the mid-rise and onto an open field, running toward the boulevard. Lobbing them over the Ker’s position, two Marines fired grenades. “Boomb! Boomb!” Missing, they exploded behind the Ker and toppled more architecture.
Dragging a man with them, the SEALs made it across the open field and onto Strand Blvd. The Marines opened up and fired at will, halting the incoming Ker that descended from three directions. Light arms peppered the air and the noise decibel dropped while door gunners reloaded. The SEAL team ran past Jimmy as he continued covering them with armor-piercing rounds along with the rest of the Marines.
Time to go… Woolridge stopped shooting and stood up and turned, swiftly falling in line.
Jimmy was the last man running back toward the chopper and followed the SEALs along with the rest of his squad. Suddenly, he stopped and turned back toward the fight. He pictured his mangled brother. Mark he thought… Jimmy wasn’t afraid anymore – he was angry. Now, Lance Cpl. Woolridge wanted revenge.
Launching itself, a Destroyer flew over a low structure, and smashed down on Strand Blvd in front of him. Jimmy saw blue eyes lit inside its demonic samurai mask.
They faced off. Man and machine aimed at each other.
Jimmy pulled the trigger first and walked forward. Thinking of his brother, Woolridge’s shoulder was repeatedly pounded from the force of 10mm rounds bursting out of his barrel. Jimmy marched toward the metal piece of shit and kept it on full auto. Searing bullets shot from his weapon’s muzzle. Lance Cpl. Wooldridge was outside himself, gripping and fighting his barrel from rising up. Too enraged to feel them, he kept marching as casings burned his skin.
The Marine fired in a blind rage. Die motherfucker! Falling to pieces, the Ker dropped into scrap metal.
“Woolridge!” Capt. Banks shouted.
Jimmy heard his officer yelling and paused. Woolridge realized he was moving forward and still firing at the pile of lifeless metal. No longer outside himself, Lance Cpl. Woolridge looked around and noticed how far he’d gone.
Way out, he was a good fifty yards from the Vulcan. Then he saw it coming.
Another Ker appeared, falling from the sky and pulverizing the asphalt when it landed.
Standing naked as a jaybird, Woolridge squared off against the new Destroyer. Jimmy aimed and pulled the trigger, hearing the pathetic click of an empty magazine. Lance Cpl. Woolridge dropped to a knee, reloading in vain. I’m dead… He knew it. Destroyers were fast and dead on accurate. The Ker raised its canon to aim…
“BBBBRRRR! - BBBBRRRR! - BBBBRRRR!” Woolridge saw tracer rounds go past him in faint glow of daylight.
The door gunner fired from the Vulcan and pulverized the Ker into burning pieces of metal before it crumbled dead in the middle of the boulevard. Lance Cpl. Woolridge turned and ran back to the Vulcan and dove inside as Marines covered him, firing from the side door. Both war-birds lifted and one veered off course from the wash of a Ker’s photon blast, a near miss.
Looking like a mutant, the wounded SEAL lay on the deck. His skin was purple and his eyes were rolled back in his head.
“Doc!” Capt. Banks shouted at his corpsman, already on his way to help. Doc opened his medical bag and went to work. “Hold his head!” Doc shouted to one of the other SEALs.<
br />
The corpsman checked for a pulse. Bounding in faint raps against the lifesaver’s fingertip, but it was there. Doc leaned in and put his cheek close to the fallen SEAL’s mouth… Airway’s clear. He cut away the blouse and t-shirt and checked for exit wounds. Good, no holes. The SEAL mumbled in pain and struggled to breathe. “Hang in there, you’ll be ok,” Doc stated convincingly.
Banging two fingers around both sides of the SEAL’s ribcage, the corpsman ran a tension drill. The lower left quarter felt like a hollow drum, which tipped him off to the collapsed lung… Tension Pneumothorax… After grabbing a large bore needle and catheter, he palpated down the front of the SEAL’s chest until he found the second rib. Sterilizing the SEAL’s chest with a Betadine pad, Doc made small amber circles and went outward making bigger circles.
The corpsman thrust the needle deep, scraping the bottom of the rib (so as not to hit any nerves) pushing it through the intercostal space. “Ssssss,” air hissed out of the catheter after he pulled the needle free, leaving the tiny straw inside the SEAL’s chest. It took a while, but color returned to the fallen frogman after a few minutes of unlabored breathing.
CHAPTER 18 - REFLECTING POOL
“Be sure you put your feet in the right place,
then stand firm.”
- Abraham Lincoln
Washington D.C.:
Seeking cover, Cy changed his direction and ran for a strange building. After arriving at the base of a massive granite staircase, he climbed up.
It was time to make a stand and he couldn’t be caught out in the open against three Ker. Cy’s computers downloaded dozens of options while he gazed out from high ground. His cooling system worked hard and his chest rose and fell. Any choice available led through the Ker.
Cy gazed over the reflecting pool, looking like a man after the end of a long run. Seated behind him was a statue of Abraham Lincoln.
I have to make it to the river, he thought. Unarmed, there was no way he could defeat three of them. Verifying his options again, he confirmed it, and chose the best one. Cy hurried behind the statue and positioned his body between the wall and the stone chair, waiting…
The air was quiet. Suddenly, Cy heard the heavy footsteps of three Destroyers. The Ker were approaching and lined up across from each other to prevent his escape. Cy remained hidden behind the freer of slaves and prepared for combat.
Climbing up the terrace steps in unison, three Ker shook the memorial and marched closer. Cy heard their mechanical sounds scanning for him, echoing off the walls like a synthesizer. The machines knew he was inside the granite structure but couldn’t detect him. Trying to lock on, the Ker directed their radar off the interior of the memorial walls. The signals bounced off granite and came back with a pinpoint.
Acquired. Target locked!
Now the Destroyers knew the exact spot he was hiding, as if there was any other place the young cyborg could be. The heavy steps pounded closer and closer. Suddenly, they stopped.
Cy bent down and picked up two chunks of concrete and kept one in each hand. He balanced the rocks against his chest and with his free hand, secured the backpack straps giving each a tug.
Playing goalie, one Ker was on defense and remained at the top step. The other two flanked the President and continued marching forward.
Cy gauged the weight and density of each piece of concrete in his hands.
Both Ker marched toward the massive statue and the vibration from their steps loosened the President’s already cracked neckline. Abraham’s head fell from his shoulders and smashed to the ground. Chunks of marble flew off and the head thumped across the floor, and teetered to a stop.
Cy glanced at the head and steadied. The young cyborg stood with his backpack leaning against the memorial, waiting.
The Ker edged the memorial and Cy saw them out of his peripherals. Both Ker pivoted ninety degrees. They prepared to fire, with Cy sandwiched between them.
Wanting to perfectly time the Ker’s shots, the cyborg remained standing and ready.
Both Ker fired in unison and Cy ducked, feeling the energy pass over his head. “ZZzzZzzwhHhhapP!!”
The Destroyers shot each other with a friendly fire of energy blasts. Both careened backward. One Ker was mangled and hit the ground, dead. The other was grazed but still operational. Injured and knocked off balance, the second Ker regained its footing and came back into view, swinging its rifle up, aiming. The Ker was about to lock on.
Cy aimed faster, hurling the chunk of concrete like a baseball at over 200mph and hit the Ker below its eyes. Its head snapped back and its guidance system blinked, on the fritz. Cy aimed again, throwing the second chunk of concrete, smashing the Ker’s face shield.
The robot let out high-pitched noises and tried to reboot. Malfunctioning with static and blinding light, the Ker’s viewer flashed useless inside its helmet. The Ker stumbled off balance and its vision went completely blue.
With its smashed viewer and maimed circuitry, the Ker couldn’t detect Cy clearing the back of the statue and running forward. The cyborg yanked the photon rifle from the robot’s grip and went diving face first. Gliding across the floor, he dragged his hand like a rudder and pivoted to face the goalie Ker.
Cy did a 180, like a synchronized swimmer, hitting his feet against a column made from Indiana limestone. Still on his belly, he pushed off and rocketed forward when the goalie Ker fired. The shot narrowly missed and Cy slid like a short stop stealing home, outracing debris raining down from the pillars and walls. Chunks continued falling in an avalanche while Cy’s belt buckle sparked across the granite. He fired at the goalie while sliding and feeling the burn on his stomach.
First time he’d ever fired a weapon… that was easy, he thought.
The defensive Ker was knocked backward and its rifle flew in the air. Again, Cy pulled the trigger scoring a direct hit on the goalie’s chest. The Ker disappeared out of sight, falling back and crashed down the granite block steps.
Cy fired on the blind robot that was still wandering aimlessly near the statue, nailing its backside armor. It fell over with its arm stretched out, still attempting to locate the young cyborg, like a terminator on a singular mission.
After crashing into the pink marble, the Ker rolled over with a large hole burning from its center breastplate. Cy watched the hole melt wider as the remaining energy from the round ate through the Ker’s metal like acid.
Three down - was there more to go? Cy pondered.
Gaining on his position, Cy’s scanner picked up several more Ker that had abandoned their posts on the bridges. The last thing he wanted to do was lead them back home to Dr. Pressfield. Time was of the essence.
Before leaping and bounding down the steps, Cy read part of an inscription over the headless President through the dust: “IN THE HEARTS OF THE PEOPLE FOR WHOM HE SAVED.”
He made it to the bottom and took off in a blaze.
After reaching the grass, Cy raced behind the structure as he picked up four Ker sharply appearing across his viewer screen. The river was sixty yards away… Cy could make it if he hurried. Forty yards… He was twenty yards away from the water’s edge where the Arlington Memorial Bridge reached over the shoreline.
Cy dove in the air while securing his backpack and landed crisply in the water like a trained high-diver. He swam down and headed for the dark deep. Heading south, Cy hugged the bottom of the channel.
The Ker searched fruitlessly for him, sending empty signals back and forth while pounding toward Abraham. The robots couldn’t find him when they arrived at the Memorial, patrolling around it, searching all directions while aiming weapons at nothing but air.
A lagging Ker sensed the water gently rippling across its top and relayed the information to the others. Several Ker descended on the shore. Like metal Nazis, they marched up and down the water’s edge, heading in opposite directions.
Cy’s scanners were limited underwater, but so were theirs, trying to penetrate beyond the river’s surface. Staying sub
merged, he looked up at the 14th street Bridge, seeing it pass over him like a murky vision.
The Ker aimed their radar but couldn’t pick up his signal; they couldn’t detect the crafty cyborg swimming like an eel at the bottom of the silt.
He swam south down the Potomac River and stopped short a couple of miles from the Woodrow Wilson Bridge. With a huge section missing, there was no Ker assigned to guard it. The bridge sat quietly as if awaiting an Evil Knievel jump over its gap.
Cy was finally safe to show himself above the waterline. He paused with only his eyes out of the water scanning the area, doing a tactical peek. All was quiet. Heading for home, Cy softly climbed out of the water and picked up the pace.
CHAPTER 19 - FURRY FRIENDS
“People love dogs. You can never go wrong adding
a dog to the story.”
― Jim Butcher
North Carolina:
Clio glanced at Russ with wide eyes and looked back down at the dead bull. She shuttered and wanted to get the hell out of the woods. Clio wanted to magically transport herself inside somewhere – anywhere.
Russ looked down at the slender girl, watching her shake, with her pasty white skin as she stared in a trance at the fallen monster. “You ok, young lady?”
“Can we go? Please…”
Russ peered up the hill through the forest. “Don’t worry… It’s just up the hill now…”
“Is your house safe?” Clio asked.
Russ started walking up the incline and Clio stayed as close as she could to him. “It’s safe,” he said.
Clio glanced back at the bull and turned away, seeing the other two monsters lying dead in front of her. “Good,” she said.
Lady wagged her tail and pushed her nose into Clio’s hand. They liked each other, and as far as Lady was concerned, they were already lifelong friends.
“Let’s keep moving, youngster.”
“You can call me Clio… if you want.”
Lady barked twice. “Ok, youn… Clio.”
Clio and Cy: The Apocalypse Page 9
