The Metal Man
Page 4
But he walked and when Mox looked in the room, Ryder was still talking. Standing on a small stage meant for larger bands, the terrorist look small. No mic, just his hands, worn out shirt, and stained jeans. Speaking to a crowd of ten. Ten angry, fist-shaking people who looked as though they would leap at his every word. Mox ignored them. Walked towards the back of their formation and shoved his way through. He kept his eyes on Ryder, who matched his stare.
“What we have here, friends, is our common enemy,” Ryder said. “A product of corporate control. The very same enforcers that plague our friends on Mars. Now he is here among us. Let's show him proper courtesy.”
The people spread out around Mox, looking at him like the courtyard crowds did everyday. Only these eyes held fear, and anger. Mox kept moving towards the stage. A man, a grizzled and frazzled beard hanging down from his chin like mossy black vines, took the first swing. Mox moved his arm to block, the exoskeleton turning on and shoving the attackers arm with so much force that the man flew across the circle and into a pair of other fighters.
A second attacker jumped on his back, pulling at Mox's neck, and the sound of metal on metal rang from his legs, a knife meeting the exoskeleton. So Mox jumped. The suit threaded strength through his calves, and Mox launched into the air, carrying the man on his back all the way up into the ceiling. Mox ducked his head just before they hit, twisting himself so that the man struck first, breaking into the stone above. Then they fell.
Mox hit the ground and rolled, the impact knocking the breath out of him. The exoskeleton could launch, but he'd have to learn how to land. Mox laid on his back, gasping, when a woman stepped over him. Mox saw her knife, a long one, held in her hand and pointed straight at is heart. Her hair though. Black, like Erin’s, messy with a few strands hanging down and framing her thin face. Mox couldn't raise his arm, couldn't hit a face so like her’s.
Blue lasers flashed, striking the woman in the side. Her stab stopped and the woman crumbled off of him. Then Phyla reaching out her hand. Mox took the grip and lifted himself up as another fighter came at them. Phyla didn't hesitate, didn't even look like she thought about what she was doing, but the sidearm flipped out and fired. The fighter went down hard.
“Don't just stand there, go after him,” Phyla said to Mox. “Davin and I can clean up.”
“Right,” Mox said.
Mox turned to the stage in time to see Ryder dash through a door to the left. Backstage. Mox jumped on top of the platform and followed. Through the door was a short hallway leading past small dressing rooms and storage closets. The sounds of Ryder's boots on the hard floor led the way. Mox pushed his suit and he flew through the hall, bounced off the corner and shot towards the level's main hallway. Ryder disappeared through the backstage door. Mox hit it a second later, blasting it off its hinges so hard it bounced against the far wall.
“Ryder, you can't run,” Mox said to the man. Ryder was only meters away and he stopped, turned around.
“Where's your cape, centurion?” Ryder asked. “Where's your armor?”
“That doesn't matter,” Mox said, closing the distance.
“But it does. You accuse me of killing beyond the law, and yet here you are doing the same thing.”
"I don't care," Mox pushed off the ground, leapt the last few meters and grabbed Ryder by the throat. Mox didn't stop his momentum, dragging Ryder down the hallway until they reached the stairwell. Then he went up. Ryder tried to talk but Mox tightened his grip, choked away the words. He didn’t care what Ryder had to say.
At the top of the stairs, a door plastered in faded red warnings about the roof gave way to Starburst's wide, flat expanse. And from there to a ledge. Mox lifted Ryder into the air, dangling him above the long fall.
“This won't bring them back,” Mox said. “But it will keep you killing anymore.”
“We're on the Moon, idiot,” Ryder choked. “This fall won't do anything.”
“I know,” Mox replied. Then he glanced at his comm on the wrist holding Ryder out in space. A call was incoming, the one he was waiting for. Max tapped it.
“Drop him whenever you're ready,” Sarge's voice came from the comm. “You didn't make it to hard to find.”
Ryder's eyes went wide, and Mox let go. He followed Ryder’s fall into the hands of a waiting squad of centurions. The centurions stunned, tied, and carried Ryder away.
“Ops isn't real happy that you blew their plan,” Sarge said. “But screw them. Proud of you, Mox,”
“Don't let him get away,” Mox said.
“He won’t.”
The call clicked off and Mox was alone on the rooftop. Overhead, as ever during the bright period, Earth glowed blue.
10
A Wild Nine
The freighter look like a designer's nightmare. Crashing together different shapes and sizes. Mox, carrying a pair of large bags holding clothes and the few things he considered his, stared at the thing for a full minute.
“Could be your new home if you want it,” Davin said, coming down the loading ramp. “Promise the Jumper looks better inside than out.”
“I don't judge,” Mox replied.
“Go on in. Trina will show you your cabin, provided you let her take a look at that suit of yours,” Davin said. Mox nodded, and walked up the ramp. Then paused.
“I was a centurion,” Mox said to Davin. “What am I now?”
“Mox, welcome to the Wild Nines.”
Get the next adventure, Wild Nines, today - here’s a teaser:
Jumping into the command center, the two troopers Davin incapacitated with his flashbang were stumbling around, holding their ears. Mox walked up to the first one, took the sidearm on the ground, swapped it to stun, and blasted him in the face. The second guard tried to run away, but tripped on a chair and fell, smacking his head on a console. Mox checked the man, there was breathing.
“Clear,” Mox commed.
Leave them alive. Davin’s command as they left the Jumper. They think we’re murderers, let’s not prove them right. But these troopers, they had already shot Merc. Taken Trina and Cadge. Sabotaged their ship. Mox wasn’t sure when the line to kill was crossed, but the troopers should have crossed it by now.
The door to the command center opened, another trooper.
“What the hell is going—” the trooper said as she stared at the shattered glass.
Mox blasted her with the stunner. Taking two quick strides, Mox caught the woman as she collapsed. On her belt dangled a red keycard, one of those that could open a cell. Mox tore the card off, set the woman in a chair and went hunting for prisoners. The main hallway, on the first floor, wrapped around the prison like a circle, with cells every four meters. The first three were unoccupied, their laser-gates sitting open. Spare beds unruffled.
As Mox approached the fourth, around a bend in the hallway, he could hear a pair of guards talking. Debating whether to run or fight. To keep the prisoner.
It wasn’t their choice.
Mox didn’t so much step as bound around the curve, using the exoskeleton to run nearly two meters a stride, so that when the troopers turned to see what was coming to wreck them, any fight was already lost. Mox struck the closer guard with his shoulder, leaning into the charge, and knocked the trooper into his comrade, sending them both spilling to the ground. The cell to the left held Trina, lying on the bed. But only her.
“Where is other one?” Mox said to the cowering guards. “Short. Angry.”
“We don’t know!” the trooper Mox hadn’t hit said, holding his hands out in front of himself. “She’s the only one here, promise!”
“Are you lying?” Mox said, standing over them.
The panic in their faces told more truth than their blubbering denials.
“Then run,” Mox said. “And I will not break you.”
Both of them, the one Mox hit going gingerly, rose to their feet and ran. When one tried to keep his gun, Mox reached out, grabbed the weapon and tore it from the trooper’s hands. Mox s
lammed the gun into the wall until it was little more than broken plastic. The only sound after that was their boots as the troopers ran.
Mox pressed the card to the cell door and the laser gates cut off with a fizzle. On the thin bed in the cell, a woman lay unconscious. Still stunned. Still breathing. Mox picked her up from the bed, blanket and all, and walked from the cell.
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Also by A.R. Knight
The Mercenaries Trilogy
The Metal Man
Wild Nines
Dark Ice
One Shot
The Riven Trilogy
Riven
The Cycle
Spirit’s End
The Rakers Saga
Rakers
The Skyward Saga
The Spear
Oratus
Starshot
Mind’s Eye
Clarity’s Dawn
Creator’s End
Humanity Rising
The Last Cycle
Find More Stories
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Afterword
When first coming up with the characters that would grow to make up the Wild Nines cast, Mox came right after Davin and stuck with me as someone with a backstory worth exploring. What would cause someone to get such a painful procedure, how would doing that impact their personality? How would they carry that burden?
I also loved the opportunity to explore a little more about the universe these characters live in, where humanity is a corporate-run multi-planet species. While I didn’t have time to include too much of Luna in this story, creating its structures and society was almost as much fun as writing about it.
I hope you enjoyed this short story - I plan on doing more like this for other members of the Wild Nines, as they each have their own tales to tell.
Thanks for reading!
About the Author
A.R. Knight scribes fiction in the frozen northlands of Madison, Wisconsin where ideas tend to come with a strong stout and a warm fire.
If you’d like to find out more, or connect with A.R. Knight, visit his website or Facebook page:
www.adamrknight.com
arknight@blackkeybooks.com