The Scavenger
There is the characteristic beeping of one of the machines somewhere to my
left side, and if my instincts serve me correctly it is probably less than
twenty feet away – well within blasting range. My right hand clenches around
the spear I've fashioned from the working parts of those metal heaps, and I
pull back the slide on my gun, Killswitch, with my left. Nice bit of
modification there, if I must say so myself. EMP rounds to keep the machines
down for a few seconds if nothing else. How many are there today? Is it my turn
to go?
I adjust the straps on my "moon shoes". That's what I call them at
least. Left behind in a destroyed military storehouse, these boots are
specially fitted with hydraulic pistons and nano-computers that read the amount
of pressure on the bottom of the sole. Every time I'm about to jump the shoes
judge my need for lift and fire the pistons to give me just what I need. I
adjust the straps to maximum height, close my eyes and take the deep breath
before the plunge. Whatever it is out there it's pinpointed me by now. Its
annoying beeping tells me that it is preparing to turn my makeshift shelter into
dust with me in it.
I move the manhole in the roof away and fly through the opening. My shoes
give me an extra fifty feet of lift and I take bearings on my surroundings as I
hear the destruction of my old bedroom. Six men, five machines, and a broken
community. There are the usual drones, four of them, and a single soldier unit.
The one that had me spotted, a drone, is preparing another shot in my
direction; the other three are just blasting the hell out of everything.
They're about thirty yards out. The drones stand three feet tall hunched over
on two legs. Their machine bodies consist of an armless torso with its head
containing sensors and its mouth forming the blaster cannon. The blast itself a
strange helixed band of charged particles laced with antimatter. Fucking, antimatter.
What catches my attention however is the soldier. Standing taller than a
man, with gun-arms and two legs, the soldier is taking out the minimal
resistance with cold precision. It is however distracted. It keeps going back
to the same site to scan, and its taking a strangely long amount of time. That
can mean only one of two things: either the piece of shit's taken some flak, or
it's receiving data it wasn't built to understand. Soldiers and drones are
built to take out living beings and to recognize them through heat and x-ray
imagery. Soldiers are more efficient killers and therefore are programmed only
to pursue after receiving both signatures. My guess is that the soldier thinks
there is something inside, but hasn't gotten a clear read on both signatures.
In the split seconds of my thought processes I have also taken aim with
Killswitch. The drone down there will never be as fast as me. I squeeze the
trigger and the hammer launches a bullet into the drone's face. A small
electro-magnetic pulse detonates within the machine's mechanism jamming it
temporarily. Damn thing's blind now. Now, the machines are all also given sonic
sensors similar to our ears, so the other drones are aware of my presence as
well. I've only got a few seconds now so as I begin my descent I put a few
bullets in the others, while receiving a nasty burn scar across my cheek as a
drone's blast streaks past my face. As I land I impale the first drone from
head to foot and run to the soldier that is still scanning the crumbled
building. As far as I can tell it knows I'm here, but isn't very concerned. If
a machine can be arrogant these soldiers have puffed up egos to be sure.
Killswitch is only going to keep those drones off of me for a few more seconds
so I'm going to have to be quick about this. I ram the spearhead into the
soldier's back and it swivels at the waist snapping the iron shaft like a twig
and flinging the remnants from my hand. A jolt of electric agony enflames my
arm from my wrist to my shoulder. Son of a bitch knows I'm a threat now! I plug
a few into its outer armor accomplishing nothing and I dive out of the way as
it fires about a hundred rounds in reprisal. One of the frozen drones behind me
catches roughly a third of the spray and falls quietly to pieces.
My eyes dart from the drones behind me, to the soldier in front of me, and
then past it into the wreckage ahead. There is a large black box inside that
looks like it could fit a human. It seems the soldier has already put some
shots into it and a couple of holes, but that apparently has not appeased it.
Whatever's in there must still be alive. Anyway, before I get turned into
tomato paste I aim a little lower and fire a couple into its right knee joint.
Leaping aside I again dodge a torrent of ammo as the machine topples over
itself. I pray to any god that has not yet forsaken this dying earth that my
cloak will keep me scrambled enough to get to that box. Of course the tattered
old thing is doing its best just to keep me alive. Without it the soldier would
have already targeted my head with a single deadly snipe. Bullets pigeonhole
the walls to either side while I charge ahead and dive behind the black case.
On the other side I see the object of the soldier's desire. There is a series
of vents behind which I find a bleeding, but alive, young girl huddled against
the back wall. Her eyes scream, "Save me!" even as her jaw quivers in
fear. The safe is sealed with a magnetic lock. If Killswitch can get through
the box's armor plating then it can jam the interface, but before I can try to
save anyone the soldier scrapes itself onto its good leg and I hear the drones
begin to move closer.
I wish I could have saved this for later, but it looks like I have no
choice. Two weeks ago I stumbled through another wasteland like this one. The
machines had already gone - presumably here - but they left me enough to get
the picture. As I sifted through the destruction I found some ammunition, a
part for my spear and a chaff grenade. Lovely little toys chaff grenades. They
explode filling the air with a confetti of reflectors that scramble any kind of
imagery sensors. This one though has an exciting bonus feature: it has a
secondary concussion device that knocks out sonic sensors. I took it with the
idea to save it for god-knows-what, but now it looks like I'll have to use it.
I press and hold the button on top of it and tear it free from my belt. The
girl takes notice - her eyes darting from my hand to my face with desperation.
I tap my earlobe and she takes cover. After I throw the thing outside I get
down and follow suit. The explosion - still painfully loud through the flesh of
my hands - goes off followed by a cacophony of beeps and signals telling me
that my toy has done its job. Oh well, at least I know how the thing worked.
With the right parts I could probably make some of my own.
I check my gun. Four bullets left in this clip with another full one at my
side. Before I can convince myself that this is an entirely bad idea I launch
myself at the reeling soldier unit ahead. I place Killswitch's barrel over top
of the hole in the soldiers back as its beeps almost seem to turn into
pleadings. Trying my best to aim upward toward the central processors I fire
all of my remaining ammunition. The last raspy whirrs of the internal fans
remind me of the movies I used to watch and the dying man's last raspy breath.
I look around for my broken spear and hope that the head isn't shattered. I
don't really want to waste anymore bullets on those stupid drones out there if
I don't have to. As I spot the half spear lying at the foot of the crushed
structure just to my right, the roar of a drone's blast deafens me for a
moment. It misses, but not by much. The chaff is helping, but only just enough.
No matter. The remnant of my weapon is enough to finish the job on these two
toaster ovens.
I take another flying leap into the air and my heavy cloak furls itself
about. The other fires its charged blast but misses by almost two full feet.
With the spear as short as it is I nearly land before I can thrust it through
the armored head of the first drone. Unluckily for me the other drone is
charging another blast. At this range it isn't going to miss me, and so I can
only hope it hasn't had time to maintain any antimatter.
Annihilation. At this range I would be torn apart by the monumental
explosion as antimatter and matter turn each other into pure energies. Hence
the common term "blast" used to describe the drone's primary weapon.
I leap back with as much force as my shoes can afford and hurl the spear into
the drone's mouth. The resulting explosion is a large one, but not as large as
a full blast explosion. The spear disrupts the helix sequence and tosses aside
the powerful magnetic fields required to maintain the antimatter effectively
vaporizing the spear and much of the drone's working parts. I feel like I've
been tossed out of a moving train car as the shockwave crashes into me.
I lie on the gravelly terrain a moment with the taste of blood beginning to
creep into my mouth. A couple of my ribs feel like they might be broken and my
left shoulder is dislocated. Awake ten minutes and I'm already fucked. Doesn't
surprise me. I stand shakily to my feet and find out the hard way that my left
leg doesn't want a lot of weight on it. So after I get up a second time I limp
back to the black box and the little girl. The chaff is falling to the ground -
a slow snowfall of big silver flakes.
I release the spent clip from the handle of Killswitch and replace it with
the one on my belt. Ought to last me a few more days. Temporarily forgetting
the importance of subtlety and safety, I put the gun right up to the lock and
pull the trigger. Some metal parts fly in random directions and the girl
shrieks as one grazes her arm cutting her a little.
"Sorry," I say dully as I swing the door open.
The girl doesn't move for a second and then she stands up filling only about
half of the safe's interior. Her legs seem like she hasn't used them in a week.
Then without warning she flies at me and wraps her arms around my bad leg.
"Arggh!" I groan and we crash to the ground awkwardly.
"Sorry," she says dully.
Lying on the ground I notice the wounds on her back. The girl has a hole
bored through the fatty part of her hip and bullet lodged in her right shoulder
blade.
"You're hurt," I stupidly state the obvious.
She recoils letting go of me in the process. I stare at her for a moment.
She seems to have aged so much for a child of her years. Too much. I get back
on my feet and turn to leave.
"I'm heading to Garden City. Its about eighty miles north of
here," I crane my head over to look at her, "Is there any food left
around here?"
She shrugs her shoulders.
"Will you take me with you?" she asks expressionless.
I don't say anything for a minute and pull back the slide on Killswitch until
it clicks the hammer into place. I was never much good at this talking
business.
"That was the plan. You need a doctor, and I need some sleep. You're
taking first watch tonight."
She stares blankly at me for just a second and then recovers herself, "Thank you."
I hobble out onto the cracked landscape and start to sift through the
wreckage, just as I always do. The ribs on my left side howl in pain as I
crouch on the ground. My right hand wraps around a heavy steel cord that was
probably support for one of the toppled buildings and my ears detect the girl's
light footsteps behind me.
"Its quiet now," she points out.
I hadn't even noticed yet myself. There was screaming when I woke up. I
assume she must have been among the terrified.
"What happened here?"
She flashes me a strange look perhaps like I shouldn't have asked and moves
in front of me. She walks off ahead moving each foot in front of the other with
deliberation.
"Where are you going? We need supplies before we head out," I call
to her.
"This way," she says continuing forward, "There used to be a
deli this way."
She says used to be as if it hadn't been for years. I'm sure the deli is
just another smoldering pile of concrete or brick scattered and broken to bits
by the machines probably little more than a few hours ago. Used to be... How
long has it been since my home was hit? Maybe a year already. And you can bet
that there was more than just a few drones and a soldier. It seems so far off
in the past now. Like something from a dream. Something that was never real to
begin with. I guess war does that to people.
"You know where you're going right?" I raise my voice so the girl
can hear.
She stops walking, but doesn't look back.
"You aren't coming with me?" her voice falters betraying her
demeanor.
"I need to find parts. Anything I can use to make weapons. Anything I
can salvage to take these damn things out before they get me."
I hear her turn to face me. In the dead silence I feel her eyes on the back
of my head and I stop what I'm doing. Get tough kid. Get mad. Get ready for the
next time you face the machines. Her foot slides heavily through the loose
stone making a pouting gesture so I can hear it. Learn what it feels like to be
on your own. You can't rely on me. I hear her start off again. She stomps the
ground with her first few steps just in case I didn't get her last message, and
I smirk a little bit. She's an innocent, I realize. I remember being innocent
at her age. Once we grow older I think we all wish we could go back, but we all
know that we can't. Once innocence is lost, it's lost.
I shake my thoughts away and move over to the soldier. Something is
definitely broken in my chest. I need a doctor probably as much as she does.
We'll make it though. Crawling up to the scrapped machine I think of the last
time I saw one. The only ones I've ever seen had been mutilated with artillery
and much of their circuitry totally fried. If only I had a gear lab that I
could take one of these things to. I could learn a lot from their weapon
systems. Wishful thinking all that. I haven't got the luxury of time to perform
an autopsy on a robot.
As I'm looking around it doesn't take long for me to find random pieces of
people torn off of their bodies as their homes were annihilated. I do my best
to cover them over with dust and cement fragments even though I'm sure the girl
will see her share on her way to the deli. You can never imagine the force of
the explosions that ripped this city apart. Probably the product of less than
ten blasts. Hell, if my cloak alone had been caught by a drone's blast I would
have been vaporized. The center of contact, the zero point, only the size of a
bullet hole, creates an amount of force powerful enough to bring a city block
to ruin.
I find a few adequate parts for a replacement spear and I gather them all
into a piece of sackcloth. I'll work on it later. I'm tired of looking around
and my stomach is complaining boisterously. It's been two days now without a
thing to eat, and it's starting to catch up with me. So, I stagger to my feet
with excruciating effort, and slink off after the girl. I follow her footsteps
for a few minutes without any sign and I begin to wonder where she's gone.
"Hello?"
No answer. She may have just run off. I can't say that I'd blame her. Her
entire world was just destroyed. What does she have left to live for? I ask
myself the same question every goddamn day. I groan and head back – back toward
the city. I begin to wonder if the machines have made it there already.
Garden's defenses are well maintained, but then again so were the defenses back
home. What if Garden City has already been taken by the machines? They're
already this close, what's another eighty miles to the bastards? My thoughts
are broken again by the sound of something hitting the ground behind me with a
soft thud. I spin around so fast I can feel one of my ribs float around that
shouldn't be moving. I grind my teeth together to keep myself from crying out
and I see the little girl lying on the ground breathing heavily. I shuffle over
to her as fast as the pain allows.
"I found some food," she manages through her labored breaths.
"You need to hold on just a while longer, kid. You'll be alright,"
I don't know whether I'm lying or not, but it seems like the only thing to say.
She smiles and I know she's giving up now.
"You remind me of my brother. He would always tell me to hold on when I
was sick. You'll be alright he told me, and I always was."
"Well, he was right," I say to her, "You're going to be okay.
We'll be in Garden City in a couple days, and –"
She cuts me off, "By then I'll already be dead."
"No…" I try to be soothing, "it isn't that bad. Really. You
can be strong for another couple of days can't you?"
She shakes her head and I can see that she's been as strong as she can. The
bullet passed through her kidney and probably brought with it metal shavings
from the safe box. She'd get an infection in a few hours; if it hasn't already
set in. The bleeding's only gotten worse since the last time I saw her and she's
very pale now. Shit, why I am I being so effected by this? I haven't known this
girl but a few minutes. Hell, I don't even know her name! She seems so aged.
Her eyes seem so distant. All of a sudden tears begin to stream steadily down
her face, and an uncomfortable warmth rushes into mine. My temples start to
throb.
"You'd have liked him," she speaks at last, "He was strong.
He fought them too. He didn't have anything like you have, but he fought them
anyway. He fought them..."
She trails off. She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath before
sighing it out. I put the back of my hand to her forehead. She's so cold. My
throat starts to feel swollen and my eyes itchy. The feeling is unlike anything
I've felt for so long.
"You would have ... liked him," she repeats herself ever so
softly.
Her body goes still. Her breathing becomes whispers in and out her nostrils.
Slowly the whispering fades into nothing until at last there isn't a sound in
the air. Tears burn and blur my vision and I let loose a guttural wail, ignoring
the pain filling my torso. I wanted her to live.
After I give the girl a proper burial I move on. I should make it to Garden
in two days time. The only thing that matters until then is survival. I've made
it this far. In a few hours I'll make camp and try to make myself another
weapon. Who knows what I might need it for? I pull the lead hood of my cloak
over my head and look to the dark, smog distorted skies ahead. I try to keep my
thoughts from drifting too much, but she comes back. I wanted her to live,
dammit! I wouldn't have thought it would matter to me this much, but I wanted
her to live. I think that if I had saved her, I would have felt like I had
saved something from my past. Some part of home that I had lost. She was like a
bridge between this world and that dream I had forgotten, but now all ties have
been severed. It is a more painful experience than I would have predicted.
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