Kill Switch: Final Season

by Sean E. Britten

Dozer didn’t understand the words but he understood the sentiment. Grunting at his partner, he waved him off, and then turned his attention on the nearest broken weapon platform. Wrapping his huge, bloody hands around the weapon’s ammo drum, he wrenched at it with incredible strength and ripped it open. A long belt of bullets, the same calibre that fit his own compact minigun, poured out of the drum like a snake. He scooped them out quickly, piling the belt across his shoulder and then turning his attention on the second minigun platform.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Violence seethes amongst a crowd of angry protestors. Molotov cocktails sail through the night like meteors. The staccato of nightsticks against riot shields creates a tribal backbeat as hundreds of faceless state goons advance on the masses of screaming, banner-waving and stone throwing civilians.

  “Sometimes you’ve got to fight for your right-, to be seen.”

  A hush falls over the crowd. The riot police stop their advance, falling silent as well. Protestors part and through a miasma of tear gas comes a single man wearing an ankle-length black duster. The rest of his strappy, leather outfit, boots included, toes the line between street and fetishwear.

  “ResisThreads, join the fight against corporate tyranny and look damn good doing it.”

  The man reaches for his mirrored shades, making sure to show off his black, fingerless gloves.

  “Hack the system with our digit-unobstructing leather handwear. Buy one glove, get the second half-price.”

  The protestors break into cheers. Several bounce up and down wearing identical Guy Fawkes masks, fists raised. Flames climb a building behind them.

  “Fight the power in our unique AnonGuy Masks with inbuilt tear gas filters. Remember remember to check for coupon codes during checkout.”

  The riot squad goons are routed, scattering. Batons and shields with ‘SUBMIT’ painted across them litter the street in their wake as they flee.

  “Don’t be some kind of capitalist sheep, buy now!”

  #Resist #FightThePower #ResisThreads #NotJustAHashtag

  “We’ll head up this way and cut through the Towers section into the City Center.” Layla said, “It’ll take a little longer and we’ll have to be on our toes but-, with the poisonous gas we don’t have much choice.”

  Layla Jackson was hunched over an electronic map. Tommy Nguyen and her second-in-command, Ridley, watched and listened. Tommy’s camera drones circled the three.

  “We were going to avoid interfering with any other contestants by going through the lower section, Shantytown.” Ridley said.

  “Technically we are here to rescue people.” Tommy said, “It’ll play well to the cameras if we collect a couple more along the way.”

  “You’re here to make a movie, and I appreciate that the people who asked for one are the same people footing the bill.” Ridley said, “But I was paid for a very specific mission and all I want to do is get in and get out with as many of my people intact as possible.”

  “Either way we don’t have much of a choice.” Layla said, “There’s two teams in the Towers section and two more in the City Center right now. If they’re smart they’ll either join us or get the hell out of our way.”

  Having not received an update on the situation, Layla, Tommy and the others didn’t know that Juan Sanzeros and Ludd were already dead. That meant they also didn’t know about the scorpion tank rampaging around City Center. Explosions and sounds of destruction had rattled across the arena but they were almost background noise.

  Two mercenaries returned to the group with Dr Klou between them. He had run off during the firefight but Layla had sent the two mercs to bring him back. Klou didn’t look like he’d put up any resistance in spite of the monstrous arm hanging heavy at his left side.

  “Don’t do that again, asshole!” One of the South African mercenaries, Blomkamp, said, “We’ll get you out of here alive but after we do you’re going back to the same godless hole you came from for your crimes.”

  “I told you, I was not trying to escape! In all the gunfire I simply panicked, I do not have your training!” Klou said.

  “No, you just make weapons that kill women and children.” The second merc said.

  Meanwhile, Digger sauntered over to where the mercenary named Ellis, who he’d had the run-in with before, was reloading his gun and pack. The Australian fixed a broad grin across his face. Homer tagged after him faithfully, as always. Ellis tensed, holding his gun, but waited for Digger to speak.

  “G’day mate, having a bit of trouble with your shooter before, were you?” Digger said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ellis said.

  Ellis hit a button at his throat so his blank face mask retreated into his helmet. The sides of the white helmet still hid his ears, including the damage Digger had done. Digger stood easily, hand resting on the H&K UMP45 at his side.

  “During the fight, mate, had a few bullets looked like they went astray and nearly took my head off. I’d call it friendly fire but you and me, well, we were never all that friendly, were we?” Digger said, “Hot tip, little fiddly bit on the end of the barrel there, you call that the sight. Line it up right you should be able to shoot straight. That’s what they call a life hack.”

  “I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about, you crazy fuck.” Ellis said, “There was a lot of chaos, a lot of bullets flying around and you probably got in someone’s way. Anything could happen, and it’s bound to happen again before we get out of here.”

  “Yeah, well, you know what they say, you come at the king and you’d better not miss, twice.” Digger said, “And my little mate here, he can kill you with his brain.”

  Digger wrapped one hand around the back of Homer’s head in an affection gesture. The oversized helmet he was wearing bobbled back and forth. Digger and Ellis both glared at each other, unwilling to be the first to break eye contact.

  “Break time is over, folks! Time to get moving again!” Layla shouted, “Miller, how does Asfour’s shoulder look?”

  “He’ll live, he’ll have to come with us even though he can’t fight but.” Miller said.

  The mercenaries got moving, heading up through Suburbia. They left the black-clad bodies of the clones forced to serve as Slayerz security troopers scattered behind them. The contestants moved with them. Digger was light on his feet and so was the girl, Echo Three, but Dr Klou seemed sullen and shifty. They could feel eyes on them, eyes of the Slayerz audience and technicians, from all corners of the buildings and streets. Weapons bristling, they headed for the train tunnel-sized channel between the Suburbia and Towers sections.

  Automated systems and robots were still running. Digger had killed off the robotic garbage truck but an automated mail-delivery bot was circling the section. It creaked along on one massive ball-shaped wheel from house to house with nothing to deliver. Another discus-shaped lawnmower circled one brown yard, churning up dust and dead bits of grass. When a new noise appeared, it took the group several long moments to realise it was coming from overhead and not from one of the machines. Someone shouted a warning and guns were pointed at a bulbous, black drone that descended out of the sky. The new drone looked like the arena’s camera drones but bigger and with armour protecting it. Not wanting to appear as a threat, the drone kept its distance as it descended to a point about three metres off the ground.

  “Hold your fire.” Layla said.

  Four large spikes, hologram emitters, jutted from the black drone’s undercarriage. They flickered to life, sending out glowing lines that assembled into the shape of Zachariah Hawthorne standing in front of them, blue and green, slightly transparent. The head producer slicked his hair back across his head, rings studding his fingers.

  “That’s the guy in charge!” Digger said.

  “We know, we did our research.” Layla said.

  Despite what had happened to the security troopers, smugness radiated off Zachariah even in hologram form, “Layla ‘Southpaw’ Jackson, big fan.” He said
.

  “Always nice to meet one.” Layla said.

  “You do know you’re trespassing, right?” Zachariah asked.

  “Can we help you with something?” Tommy cut in.

  “You can give me back my contestants, undo whatever you did to their bracelets, turn and walk away.” Zachariah said, “Or else you’re all going to die here.”

  “No deal.” Layla replied.

  “You know, Jackson, we were really hoping to catch you on the outside and bring you back into the game for real. You’re very popular, have you seen the merch?” Zachariah sneered, “The studio were even talking about an all-stars season, bit difficult when most of your more popular contestants are dead but, of course, there are ways around that.”

  “There’s not going to be any more seasons, and if that’s all you’ve got then this conversation is over.” Layla raised her P90.

  “You’re in my world n-,” Zachariah yelled.

  Layla put a short burst right through the drone’s central engine, where the armour plating couldn’t protect it without cutting off its thrust. An orange fireball ripped through the drone’s interior. Zachariah blinked out instantly as the hologram projectors died. Burning from the inside, the remains of the drone crashed into the dust and broke apart.

  “Boring conversation anyway.” Layla said, “Come on, let’s go.”

  No other interruptions slowed the group down on their way to the tunnel, no security and no drones. Layla, in the lead, slowed down and held up one hand. Near the tunnel, several traps and a big patch of landmines were strewn along their path.

  “Watch your step here, and watch those mules.” Layla said, “There’s a whole bunch of landmines ahead of the tunnel. We’ve got to go straight through them.”

  The tunnel yawned open in the wall of the arena section. Small heaps of buried landmines littered the asphalt and empty lot in front of it, the mounds unmissable but packed tight enough together that they created a maze that slowed the mercenaries and contestants down. Layla led the way with Tommy and Ridley moving next to her. Suddenly, Homer was gesturing wildly at Digger’s side. His eyes were wide and he looked terrified although there was no obvious danger. Suddenly, Homer pointed at the ground. Digger saw a ripple in the dirt and started backward.

  “Look out, the mines!” Digger said.

  Layla whipped around, “They’ve all been triggered! Move!” She said.

  Simultaneously, the small piles covering the ground erupted. The explosives were ‘Bouncing Betty’-style mines that shot straight up in the air, over a dozen of them spinning out of the dirt and hovering for a few moments. Mercenaries and contestants scattered, leaping for cover. Only the injured man, Asfour, was too slow to get clear. He stumbled from foot to foot, clutching his wounded shoulder.

  “Asfour!” Another mercenary yelled.

  The second mercenary moved to tackle the injured man and drag him clear. All in the same moment, the mines exploded in a single burst. Thick, flat disks disintegrated into metal and fire. Shockwaves rippled across the surrounding houses and shrapnel was thrown in all directions by the thunderous boom. Digger grabbed Homer by the shoulders and threw them both to the ground, pushing the boy under his body. Flechettes hissed over them, the bouncing mines casting the fragments outwards at roughly waist-height.

  The wounded merc, Asfour, was blown backwards and off his feet. The second mercenary who had moved to tackle Asfour was also shredded by the blast. Pieces of both men’s white armour were blasted off their bodies. Following the explosions, nothing but a pillar of smoke and craters dotted across the ground remained.

  “Report in!” Layla said.

  “Asfour and Nkosi are down!” Miller said.

  “Sons of bitches, I should have known they could trigger things remotely!” Layla said, “I led us right into the middle of it!”

  “This isn’t your fault, we knew they’d be full of tricks.” Tommy said.

  Tommy’s miniature camera drones reappeared, capturing the other mercenaries and contestants as they gathered themselves back up. No one else seemed to have been injured in the blast. The mercenaries’ armour had done a good job of protecting them from shrapnel, as long as it wasn’t at point-blank range, and the contestants had all gotten lucky or been well protected.

  “They’re dead, they got both of them.” Miller said.

  The medic knelt over the two bodies. The mines had been designed mostly to inflict injuries and not fatalities but the cumulative effect of a dozen going off at once had been too much for the pair of mercenaries.

  “The two of them were brothers, that’s why Nkosi tried to save Asfour instead of saving himself.” Layla said, “Come on, before security double back to try and take advantage, let’s go!”

  Only one of the two remaining pack mules had been hit by shrapnel, damaging some of their supplies. The droid was intact just slightly creaky as it followed the mercenaries and contestants. Digger pulled himself upright and dusted both himself and Homer off. Without Homer’s warning, sensing the danger, the minefield explosion could have been much worse. Digger glanced down at the final injector on Homer’s hip.

  “Alright, mate? Let’s keep going, best hope is still to stay with them.” Digger said, “Hell, they might need some more of your help.”

  Threading through the destruction, the group moved into the tunnel between different sections of the arena. They were spaced out so as not to present too easy of a target. Layla and the other mercs watched for more weapons the producers could trigger.

  “If we have time once we shut this thing down, we’ll come back for the bodies.” Layla said, “You all know the risks though, people, this game is no game!”

  “Can’t believe we’re risking our lives for assholes like these.” Ellis said.

  Ellis gestured broadly at all four freed contestants but it was obvious his anger was aimed at Digger. Layla and the others ignored him. Digger was also distracted and didn’t rise to the bait, studying the grooves for the heavy blast doors as they entered the tunnel. He and Homer had nearly been caught by them once, in the other tunnel before Shantytown. There seemed to be no reason the producers couldn’t trigger those as well but Digger supposed the mercenaries had equipment on the pack mules to deal with the doors if they did.

  The tunnel was dimly lit and bare. Digger and Homer caught up with the group and with the medic, Miller, walking toward the rear of the pack. The woman hadn’t removed her faceless helmet once since arriving and Digger had no idea what she actually looked like.

  “Oi, hey, you’re like a bloody doctor, right?” Digger said.

  “I’m a bloody medic, sure.” Miller aped his accent.

  “My offsider here, Homer, he got given these injectors at the start of the game. Seems like it juices up his brain box powers, gives him a big hit.” Digger said, “But he’s only got one left and I was wondering if you knew of anything that might work just as well, so we don’t have to keep saving it?”

  Digger took the injector from the sheath on Homer’s hip and handed it to Miller. The medic studied the white tube and the black lettering on the side.

  “Well, I don’t know what this stuff does for psychics but it isn’t synthetic adrenaline or anything like that.” Miller said, “It’s a counteragent, this is just intended to work against the effects of other drugs, like paralytics or anaesthesia, stuff like that, for a short time. It shouldn’t have any effects of its own, except for side effects maybe?”

  “What’s that meant to mean?” Digger asked, “It shouldn’t pump him up, just set him back to normal for a while?”

  “Something like that.” Miller said, “I don’t really have anything I could safely say would be a replacement.”

  “Right, cheers.” Digger said.

  Miller handed the injector back to the Australian. Digger slowed down and studied Homer for a moment. The boy waited expectantly for Digger to give the capped injector back to him. As Miller and the other mercenaries continued down the tunnel, Digger�
�s thoughts returned to earlier in the game. Homer had paralysed Lyncher Lee and Frankie LaPalma simultaneously, and crushed Lee’s chest with a flick of the wrist in spite of her high-tech exoskeleton. Psychic powers might have been part of Homer but Digger had assumed he needed the drugs to use them effectively. But what if he’d been drugged before the game, explaining why he was so calm and spacey, and the terrifyingly powerful force Digger had seen when he used the injectors was actually the real Homer?

  Rather than hand the injector to Homer, Digger stuffed the tube into the webbing on his body armour. The boy looked confused but didn’t offer any argument.

  The glowing arch of the tunnel exit was getting closer up ahead, leading into Towers. Layla and the other mercenaries were wary as they approached the exit. Suddenly, with a grinding noise, the exit started to shrink. Massive doors on either side of the exit began to roll closed.

  “Move it, we’ve gotta get out of here!” Layla said.

  “Come on, kid!” Digger said.

  As they had done earlier, Digger and Homer picked up speed and ran for the tunnel exit. Echo Three and Klou ran beside them. The doctor looked behind as he ran but the doors at the far end of the tunnel were closing as well, so he couldn’t double back and escape.

  “Go, go, go!” Layla said.

  Hanging back just short of the exit, Layla gestured with her whirring left arm to push everyone else through. Her mechanical arm might have been their best hope of holding the doors open if anyone was too slow. The contestants and last couple of merces shot through the gap with time to spare, however. Layla followed them out, P90 at the ready, and the doors shut with a resounding boom.

  Sunlight was blinding again after their short trip through the tunnel. The mercenaries’ facemasks automatically accommodated for them but Digger had to shield his eyes for a moment. Huge shadows of several office towers, covered in battle scars, loomed over them. The roadway around them was littered with wrecked cars. Tommy Nguyen studied his electronic map, small camera drones circling the group.