by Scott Baron
In the meantime, Franklin and the others were battling their way through the remaining cyborgs with surprising ease.
“These were decoys, Daze. Look how easily they go down.”
It was using weak and damaged units as a tool to drive us into the grinder of high-functioning machines down that street. That’s where the real attack was waiting for us.
“Good thing we didn’t fall for it.”
Big time. Now keep your eyes peeled and help me find us a safe way out of this mess.
The AI apparently didn’t have as great an amount of disposable resources as they’d originally feared, as the next quickly run mile was almost incident free. Nearing the boulevard across which they would have a relatively straight shot out of the city center toward the regional transit hub, things got a bit more interesting.
If you consider massive automatic weapons fire interesting.
“Automated defense cannons,” Sergeant Franklin noted. “Two of them.”
“You sure?” a scared man asked.
“Trust me. They make a very distinct sound when shooting at you,” he replied.
Daisy cracked a little grin at his battlefield humor.
“How are our odds?”
“Well, I’m unfamiliar with this city’s defensive systems, but if it is anything like most major hubs, there should be a series of fixed guns, along with a handful of mobile armaments. Given the relatively small size of this city, I’d gather the mobile ones were all deployed during the Chithiid attack.”
“So, we can get around these?”
“Undoubtedly. However, the question then becomes one of whether we can entirely circumvent all of the AI’s toys, or just these guns. It might be more expeditious to rig a mobile shield and make a run through the line of fire.”
“What if they’re armor-piercing rounds, Sarge?” Tamara asked.
“Oh, I’m sure they are. The goal is to distract them to fire at a decoy, then have our main unit cross when the observation systems are focused the wrong direction.”
“No sewer systems to drop into?” Daisy asked.
“Too risky,” the metal man replied. “If it managed to overcome the waste-management AI, then it’s entirely possible it already flooded the tunnels with methane gas.”
“Which is highly explosive,” Daisy noted.
“Exactly. Also a great deterrent for subterranean attacks. My guess is this city doesn’t possess a pocket nuke, so blowing things up from underneath would be its next best deterrent if its surface defenses all failed.”
“All right, then, Sergeant. What do you propose we do?”
He laid out a rough plan. There wasn’t a great deal of time, so they’d have to do the quick and dirty variety of a diversion.
Three older wheeled vehicles were selected. The solid plasti-rubber tires, though cracked with age, were still sound, and with a little shove, the vehicles could be made to roll.
There was no desire to use up one of their precious power cells if they could avoid it, but for the main decoy, the sacrifice would have to be made. Pieces of metal were haphazardly strapped to the side of the main vehicle, as well as the other two. It wouldn’t stop every round, but if things went as planned, the vehicle actually shielding their team wouldn’t come under much fire at all.
“Is everyone ready?” Daisy asked, once the vehicles were staggered on the side street just out of sight of the active weapons systems.
“Affirmative,” Sergeant Franklin confirmed. “My men will push the middle unit to get it moving, then we’ll duck in behind the last one and get it to speed.”
“We can push too,” the oldest of the human support team offered.
“It’s appreciated, son, but my men and I are heavily reinforced, and our hydraulics will get it underway much faster than your meat legs––no offense. Save your energy to run. You’ll need it.”
“Okay, then. Let’s do this. Everyone stay close, and don’t go until the first two have made it mostly across and are drawing all the fire,” Daisy said.
She activated the drive system and triggered the brakes as the others took their places.
“On three. One. Two. Three!”
She released the brake, and the metal-plated vehicle lumbered forward, gathering speed as it went, until it reached a steady twenty miles per hour. Franklin and his men began pushing the others.
The first vehicle came under heavy fire as soon as it cleared the corner, the pair of cannons quickly pivoting and opening fire within seconds. The heavy shielding they had mounted to it was holding up, but given the ferocity of the barrage, the question was not whether it would survive, but simply how long it would last.
Franklin’s troops gave a final shove just before reaching the intersection, releasing the second vehicle, then doubling back to join their sergeant behind the third. One of the defense cannons swiveled from the first decoy, immediately targeting the second as it joined its wheeled counterpart.
Just in time, too, as the lead vehicle was rapidly becoming Swiss cheese where the armor-piercing rounds penetrated the multiple layers of metal they’d strapped on it. With the firepower split, both vehicles almost stood a chance of making it across the boulevard.
“Go, go, go!” Sergeant Franklin urged his men as they pushed with all their considerable strength.
The rest of the team ducked low and ran alongside the third, and final, vehicle as fast as they were able as the cannons shifted focus again, now alternately targeting each of the three as they all rolled forward. The lead was in flames, its power cell pierced by a direct hit, but the third fared best of them all, benefitting the additional shielding of rolling up alongside the other vehicles, adding further layers of protection.
“I’m hit!” one of the cybernetic soldiers shouted, though he didn’t break stride. Daisy glanced back for just a split second and saw the metal man powering through the damage to keep at his task.
“Took one through his lower leg when he pushed off and it was exposed behind the shielding,” Sarah said. “Didn’t look too bad. We should be able to patch him up once we’re clear.”
Good. Can’t afford to lose anyone, especially not one of our big guns.
Rounds and shrapnel peppered the vehicles as they rolled, but aside from that one injury, the team finally made it all the way across the boulevard, intact and alive.
“Can you run?” Franklin asked his damaged compatriot as they sheltered behind a building as the defensive cannons futilely loosed round after round into the vacated armored vehicles.
“Affirmative, Sarge. I’ll be fine.”
“Good,” he said, then turned to the others. “Let’s move, people! We’re on a clock.”
For the better part of an hour, the team powered their way through the deathtrap of Billings, Montana.
With hands and rifles, they fought thinning bands of cyborgs, avoided bloodthirsty heavy equipment, and circumvented both fixed and mobile defense cannons without suffering any further injuries or losses.
When the exhausted team at long last reached the Chithiid-destroyed outskirts of town in one piece, it was finally safe to breathe a sigh of relief. Chithiid deconstruction meant the AI held no sway over that area. From then on, all that remained was to find a viable accessway to the regional transportation monorail running beneath their feet.
“Everyone, get under some cover and catch your breath,” Daisy said, scanning the area for threats. “Eat up and hydrate. We move again in ten.”
Chapter Four
“It’ll be fine, Sarge,” the sturdy metal man said, stoically. “It’s just a flesh wound.”
“It’ll be fine once I say it’s fine. And I don’t know that I’d really call it a flesh wound,” Franklin shot back, looking at the cyborg’s fleshless body. “You’re going to need repairs if you’re going to operate at peak efficiency.”
“I know, Sarge. But flesh or no, it’s relatively minor damage. I’m still operating at over eighty percent.”
“Even so, I’m
going to need you to take up the rear,.”
“But, Sarge––”
“It’s not a punishment. It’s just that your reactions will be slowed no matter how much you want to push through it, and should we fall under attack again, those few extra seconds that being in the rear will afford you may be crucial to keeping you in the fight.”
Daisy walked closer.
“If we find some suitable parts along the way, I’m sure I could help make some temporary repairs,” Daisy said.
“I appreciate the offer,” the damaged soldier replied. “Hopefully we can achieve our objective and make it back to Colorado Springs and just handle it there, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled for potentially useful components in the meantime.”
The team adjusted to their new configuration, the injured cyborg taking up his position in the rear with the inexperienced human contingent, then continued on their way.
Twenty minutes later, Sergeant Franklin called a halt and compared the torn-up outskirts of the city with his map of the area.
The tired humans took the momentary respite to hydrate, a few of them stripping out of their sweat-soaked shirts and swapping them for fresh ones, while hanging the wet ones to dry on their packs. Fortunately, the path ahead appeared to be sheltered from the blazing sun and would hopefully provide a far more pleasant walk.
Nature, it seemed, had reclaimed the remnants of buildings left behind in the alien deconstruction teams’ aftermath. While the Chithiid were efficient in their demolition efforts, they were also not ones to waste valuable cargo space in their hauling craft with unneeded materials. The result was an eerie scene of concrete building ruins and scattered debris that was of little use.
“Looking at the damage, I’d say we’ve been in an AI-clear area for nearly an hour. Comparing with the landmarks the Chithiid didn’t strip in their scavenging, I’d estimate we’re less than a mile from the regional transit hub,” he said.
Daisy bent down to examine something in the dirt.
“What is it, Daze?”
Looks like scat.
“Scat?”
Poop.
“Ah, gotcha. Any idea what kind?”
Don’t know, but you can see some fur and small bones in it, so whatever left it was definitely a carnivore.
“Oh, shit,” Sarah said. “I mean literally. Not another bear, I hope.”
No, it’s definitely too small for that. Nevertheless–
“Hey, guys, hold up,” she called out.
The team paused and moved in close.
“Everyone keep your eyes open moving forward. There’s an animal of some kind in the area. Carnivore, from the look of it. I don’t know what it is, or if it would even bother with a group our size, but let’s not find out, okay?”
Everyone nodded their understanding, then moved out in silence, senses on high-alert as they quietly made their way toward the increasingly lush section of the city’s remains.
Weaving their way through the overgrowth choking the ground as they followed the remnants of former roadways, the team was at least able to enjoy a brief respite from the afternoon sun, courtesy of the cooling canopy above.
The trees lining the streets, ornamental varieties that had once been manicured and neat when the city’s maintenance staff was alive and well, now towered above them, creating a verdant tunnel through the outskirts of Billings.
Daisy walked silently, her stalking skills emerging without her even consciously thinking about them. Likewise, her senses were amped up to eleven, and every twig snap from her human entourage made her wince ever so slightly.
They need to be quieter.
“Cal’s people aren’t soldiers. They’re doing the best they can, given the circumstances.”
Remind me again why I agreed to take them with us.
“Because they volunteered. And because we need the extra muscle if it comes down to it. Even lesser-skilled backup is still backup, after all.”
Point taken. I just wish we’d had a little time to discuss tactics and basic operational silence before we headed out.
“When life gives you lemons…” Sarah said.
Hey, no fair. Don’t talk about lemonade. I’m getting kind of thirsty.
“Fine. But you know the saying about––”
A piercing shriek filled the air, but not from the front of the column.
“Attack! Take cover!” Sergeant Franklin shouted, diving to the side as he swung his rifle to his shoulder.
The sneak attacker had dropped down from above. It was also most definitely not an alien.
“Get off me, you stupid feline!” the irritated cyborg growled at the large mountain lion attempting to chew through his neck. “Stop it!” he shouted as he finally managed to get a grasp on the writhing animal.
He flung it from his back, annoyed but entirely unharmed. The big cat landed, as they are wont to do, on its feet, surveying the group for a target that might provide it an easier lunch. Its amber eyes shifted, fixing on the nearest terrified human. With only a moment’s pause, it tensed its muscles and lunged through the air.
“Duck!” Tamara yelled to the stunned man. Somehow, the message cut through the fog of his primal panic in the face of a predator, and he turned and spun low at the last moment.
The mountain lion missed its target, barely, its claws instead finding purchase on the man’s backpack, but leaving his flesh intact. Powerful jaws bit into the pack, shaking it side to side. Acting on pure instinct and adrenaline, the terrified man slipped his arms from the straps and bolted toward the relative safety of numbers.
Numbers with guns.
The big cat was making quick work of the pack, tearing into the material, briefly getting tangled up in the remnants of the shirt that had been drying in the warm air as they walked.
Bright eyes flashed on the team, followed by a fang-baring hiss and a low growl. Not shifting its wary gaze, it began backing up, dragging the pack into the brush like a prized kill.
The sergeant took careful aim, but Daisy put her hand on Franklin’s arm and lowered his rifle.
“It’s just looking for a meal,” she said. “Don’t fire.” She turned to the rest of the team. “You hear me? Everyone. Let it go.”
“But it stole my bag!”
“It’s just a backpack, and we’re the ones walking through its territory.” She turned to face the confused stares. “Look, there’s too much killing already. I mean, sure, some things I have no problem putting many, many holes in, but not some poor cat just living its life. It’s a native, just like our people once were.”
Did that sound lame? she asked her sister.
“No,” Sarah replied. “You actually made a very good point. And look, I think they may even agree with you.”
Sure enough, eyes softened and weapons lowered as the team’s adrenaline levels slowly began creeping back toward normal.
“Well said,” Tamara commented. “Now let’s stop playing with the neighborhood kitties and get moving. We’ve still got a mission to complete.”
Daisy gave a low chuckle as she adjusted the straps of her pack, then started walking. The others quickly followed suit.
“You’re a surprising woman, Daisy,” Sergeant Franklin said. “You know, I reviewed the footage of your assault on the infected outside of NORAD’s main doors. Efficient, brutal, and very, very deadly. And yet, here you are, showing a softer side.”
“We all have one, George. And that poor thing probably just picked up our scent and thought it would score an easy meal.”
“Well, technically, I don’t have one,” he said with a little laugh as he rapped a metal knuckle on his chest plate. “Scent, that is. Though without my flesh, I suppose I don’t have a soft side anymore either, if you want to be literal about it.”
“You know, George, you’re the one person who can answer a question I’ve had running through my head for a while,” Daisy said, raising a hopeful eyebrow. “If a cyborg no longer has a living flesh covering, is it still a
cyborg? I mean, by definition, wouldn’t that change to android?”
“Funny question, Daisy, but I see where it could be confusing to an organic,” he replied. “The thing to keep in mind is that we are created as a combination of flesh and metal from the first moment of our consciousness. Sure, the majority of our bodies are metal, but the flesh is as much a part of us as anything.”
“But you don’t need it to function. It’s just, I don’t know… decorative, I guess.”
“More than decorative, Daisy. It also helps us interact with humans on an even playing field without our appearance disturbing them. You’re in something of a minority, you know. While you’re at ease with our appearance, most fully organics tended to find our endoskeletons more than a little off-putting.”
“Well, you are a bit intimidating, I suppose.”
“Understandable, but we didn’t make ourselves that way. Though we were technically created, you could still say we were born to blend in. Only when the plague hit were we reduced to lesser versions of ourselves.”
“You’re not lesser, George.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, Daisy, but what you see now is not how I, or any of my men, see ourselves. We had faces unique to each of us. We had hair and skin, all of which, to us, was as much a part of us as our mechanical bits. I mean, think of it like this: What if ,out of the blue, you had to watch your friends die around you, while you were immune?”
“Pretty horrible, I’d imagine.”
“It was. Now imagine not only that, but also what it would be like to have to survive that horror while also watching your own mortal flesh disintegrate from your body and not be able to do a single damn thing about it.”
Daisy was silent a long moment as she digested his words.
“That’s…” She struggled to find the appropriate words. “I don’t know if I could have taken that, actually,” she finally said.
“And I’m glad you’ll never have to find out,” he replied. “I’m a soldier, Daisy. I’ve seen plenty of horrible things over my many years of service. Comrades killed in terrible ways, the brutal things man can do to man, but nothing prepared me for that experience. If not for the support of my men, well, I don’t know that any of us would have emerged from that one hundred percent sane.”