“What the hell was that explosion? It shook the whole room.” The woman said.
“That wasn’t just me? Oh, good.” The man with stomach issues said.
“I’ll explain that in a moment, but first, if I haven’t said so already, congratulations on winning our contest!” Zachariah said, “You sent in enough of those box tops from Nutrition-Os cereal, you get to be a Slayer on Slayerz. We’re going to give you the arms and armaments to kill as many of them as you can.”
“Hell yeah.” The woman said.
“But, I’ve got some more good news.” Zachariah said, “That blast you just heard, well, this year, not so different from a couple seasons ago, we have some outside intruders in the arena. I’ve been authorised to offer one million credits as a bonus prize to the contest winner who takes down the most of these mercenaries.”
“One million credits? Wow!” The second man said.
“For real? To whoever kills the most of those dirtbags?” The woman said.
“You can’t miss them, they’re mixed in with the contestants and wearing white armour.” Zachariah said, “There’s even a couple of special guests, Layla Jackson and Thomas-, Thao Seong, from last season.”
“Southpaw Jackson? I love her!” The first man said, “Having a chance to fight her is more exciting than one million credits!”
“Good, because that money is mine.” The woman sneered.
“Fantastic, then, time to suit up.” Zachariah said.
Chapter Twenty-Two
struct group_info init_groups = { .usage = PETP_Init }
int nblocks;
feed_interrupt
You wouldn’t stab a homeless person... You wouldn’t reprogram a service droid to vivisect a living human being… You wouldn’t shove a man’s head into a beartrap… You wouldn’t take a hulking psychotic with the mind of a child, give him an automatic tool used to debone cattle and set him loose on an island full of people… You wouldn’t mindwipe a bunch of innocent people and force them into a deathmatch with criminals… So why support those who do?
“People for the Eth-,”
_FEED DISCONNECTED_
_RECONNECTING_RECONNECTING_
Digger and Layla Jackson emerged from the building back onto the street. The glowing mushroom cloud stained the sky. Waiting for instructions, mercenaries and contestants circled around them. Tommy was watching with his collection of drones.
“Miller, start distributing the anti-radiation medication.” Layla said, “We’re going to have to split up, I don’t want to leave anyone behind but we’ve got to reach that central part of the arena fast.”
Miller retrieved a gunlike device from her open pack. She loaded it with a small cylinder, going around the group and administering shots to the throat. Reaching Digger, he let her inject him in the neck opposite his ‘C’est La Vie’ tattoo. Homer looked anxious as she moved onto him but Digger put one large hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“She’ll be right, mate.” Digger said.
Homer moved his head to one side and allowed Miller to inject him. The mercenaries were making sure they were all ready for what was next, including the two pack mules. Digger looked at his kill switch sleeve. The list of contestants had reappeared, Ringers now listed but all scratched out.
Boche / Uzi Kahneman
Bolt / DFN Jefferson
Dr Klou / Echo Three
Dozer / Taka
Homo Superior No. 11 / Digger Dundee
Juan Sanzeros / Ludd
Kali Badami / Tanai Den’atsu
L.L. Bitters / Rick O’Shae
Lyncher Lee / Frankie LaPalma
Macbeth Madaki / Junior Du Preez
Marcus Halligan / Luthor Crispee
Quickdraw Quilton / El Carnicero
Sunni Skyez / Alucard
Talons / Dr Martina Hart
Wilhelm Schrei / Mahmet Adani
RINGERS
Kinghit Karson / Sheb Loowey
Professor Kong / Thorg Bearfucker of the Bloodpuncher Clan
Valkyrie Vale / Ninjanette
“Shit, that was Kinghit Karson with the two metal arms!” Digger said, “I know him, I mean not personally but-, I guess that’s past tense now. Should’ve gotten his autograph before he went up in atoms.”
“Tommy and I are going to keep heading for the centre of the arena, we’ll take one of the mules. Haldeman and Cho, you’re with us. Digger, you’re pretty good on your feet, you can tag along if you want, and I assume you’ll want the kid with you?” Layla said, “Ridley, Miller, Ellis, you stay here with these three contestants, and keep your eyes open for Klou. Ridley, you’re in charge obviously, keep the other mule with you.”
“You’ve got it, boss.” Ridley said.
“If we don’t make it, it’s up to you to use the second EMP device if you think it’s worth it.” Layla said, “We’ve already knocked out part of their control centre, a surface strike now might not be as worthless as it would have been before.”
“Why the fuck is he going?” Ellis pointed at Digger, “It’s stupid for us to split up when we don’t know what else they’re going to throw at us! We should leave the contestants to watch out for themselves and all of us go into the City Center. I don’t want to risk my pay packet just to keep a few more of these civvies alive, especially him.”
“Your pay will be just the same when we set off the EMP as it would be if all of us went.” Layla said, “Cover the contestants and watch our backs, that’s an order.”
Ellis glared at Digger, having retracted his facemask into his helmet so its white sides framed his features. Unconsciously, the mercenary touched the side of his head as if reaching for his mangled ear. He cradled his assault rifle in his other hand. Digger considered sticking his tongue out at Ellis but thought better of it. Ellis hated him but didn’t want to push Layla too far.
“Here’s some anti-rad meds in case you run into more contestants.” Miller said, “If they were any closer to that blast than we were, they’re going to need them. I’ve also got an extra wand for disabling any more kill switch sleeves.”
“Good work, Miller, see what you can do for Jefferson’s leg in case we have to get out of here in a hurry.” Layla said, “Time’s wasting, let’s go.”
“Good luck.” Echo Three said.
Layla led the way, guided by the maps Digger and Homer had on their sleeves. Tommy’s drones circled the group and captured them from every angle, still recording from his glasses and shoulder-cam as well. Haldeman and Cho backed them up, weapons raised. Dirt and smoke choked the sky and their surroundings directly ahead, a waterfall of dust falling over the arena wall. A tunnel entrance gaped open at the end of the street.
“This is too easy.” Layla said, “And I don’t mean that as a good thing.”
The train tunnel-sized passageway was dark. There was light at the far end, yellow and clouded with dirt from the blast. They moved carefully, looking for traps, but kept one eye on the doors at the end of the tunnel in case they started to close. Nothing happened though, and they made it to the end of the tunnel, into the light, without incident.
“Hope those anti-rad meds are working.” Digger said.
Dust and vapourised debris hung over the section like a suffocating ceiling. Rubble littered the streets and marketplaces. Even though the nuclear blast had been concentrated in a block-wide radius in the centre of the section, huge holes were blown through some buildings even on the outskirts.
“We get to the middle where the crater is, find the entry to their underground control centre.” Layla said.
Stillness hung to the ruins around them following the miniature nuke. More than ever, Digger felt like they were being watched. The explosion had wiped out many of City Center’s cameras. The mercenaries had screwed with Slayerz’s plans though, destroying the Ringers, and Digger doubted the showrunners would surrender without a fight.
The mercs spread out, guns raised. Their pack mule, the four-legged robot, trotted along behind t
he six of them with its limbs whirring. Irradiated dust showered them from above as they moved deeper into the central section. Suddenly, an electronically boosted voice echoed out of the ruined buildings. Heavy, mechanised footfalls echoed down one street.
“Woohoo! You are mine now!” The voice said.
A mech appeared through the thick veil of smoke hanging across the ruins, bounding toward the group. The mech wasn’t so different from the ones Digger and Homer had seen in the Freeway Interchange section, but it was more upright, man-shaped, with longer limbs, and clearly designed to carry a pilot. It had springy legs that reminded Layla and Tommy of a contestant on last season’s Slayerz, Jackrabbit Slim. The top half of the bulbous torso where the pilot was sitting was made of reinforced glass. Different weapons hung off the mech’s lanky arms. Behind the domed canopy was a woman, strapped into a high-backed chair and holding a pair of joysticks.
“What the hell is that?” Cho said.
The mech ran at them with both weaponised arms raised. A lightning storm shot from its forked left arm. Blue electricity crackled through the air and hit Haldeman, standing closest to the mech. In milliseconds, Haldeman was broiled alive inside his armour. Lightning cut streaks across the merc’s suit and zapped between plates. After a few seconds of sustained fire from the lightning gun, Haldeman exploded. Blood sprayed in all directions accompanied by chunks of Haldeman’s burning flesh and armour, some of it evaporating in midair. All five of the others were hit by Haldeman’s blood and bits of gore.
“Fuck!” Layla said, “Make for cover!”
The mercenaries and contestants sprinted backward toward piles of rubble near one of the arena’s battered buildings. The Slayer mech wheeled around, pilot letting out a peal of laughter through its speakers. Across from the lightning gun on its left side, its right arm ended in a classic six-barrelled minigun. The minigun started spinning and bullets thundered out of it while Digger, Homer and the others found shelter.
“The slayers have been become the slayed!” The mech pilot said.
“Slain!” Digger said.
“What was that?” The woman said.
“It’s fucking slain, the past tense of slaying, not slayed, you fucking big, metal bitch!” Digger said.
Homer was on his knees beside Digger, covering his head. The big Australian heaved himself upright and squeezed off a short burst with his UMP45. Slugs rattled off the armoured body and reinforced canopy of the mech. The pilot didn’t even flinch as a round sparked off the glass right in front of her face. She raised both the minigun and her mech’s oversized lightning gun.
“Correct this!” The woman said.
“Get back!” Layla said.
Digger ducked and all five of them retreated. The mech’s minigun howled and bullets tore through their surroundings, including several old street signs. The group darted into the shell of the nearest building. When the lightning gun erupted it filled the ruined street with a wall of jagged, blue electricity, setting the air on fire and creating overlapping claps of thunder. Lightning sparked off some rebar dangerously close to Layla’s mechanical arm.
“Shit!” Layla said.
Their surroundings reeked of burnt ozone. Walls blocked lightning from the mech’s weapon but it moved like a living thing all around them, searching for an opening or something to build a charge off.
A second mech moved through another street behind the first. It was obviously the same design with its canopy, round upper body, and minigun on the right arm, but its limbs were shorter and it was overall bulkier as well as slower. The second mech joined in without knowing what they were fighting, firing its minigun into the building. The youngest of the three competition winners was behind the mech’s canopy of reinforced glass, looking almost childlike with excitement. Opposite his mech’s minigun, on the left arm, was a bulky weapon with three fat barrels, some kind of missile launcher instead of another lightning gun.
“Who are you people? I don’t remember bloody mech suits in any other season of Slayerz!” Digger yelled.
“We won the contest! We cut off ten tops from boxes of Nutrition-Os cereal, mailed them in with our names, and shared it on social media!” The pilot of the second mech said, “We’re the Slayers! And the one who kills the most of you gets a million creds!”
“Great, more nutjobs, we didn’t plan for these ones!” Layla said, “Get back!”
The second mech stiffly raised its missile launcher. The thick barrels were attached to a drum and a large, rectangular cable like the belt of its minigun. The weapon thundered and a football-shaped explosive streaked into the shell of the building where the five of them had been hiding. Hitting the front wall, the explosion split it open with a roaring blast. Scorching dust filled the air. Mercenaries and contestants scattered as pieces of the roof caved in. Big, fist and head-sized chunks of concrete fell all around them. Meanwhile, the first mech continued firing its mingun into the building with its lightning gun held back.
“We need to split the two of them up, we can’t take down both together.” Layla shouted, “I’ll take the one with the missile launcher, you four take the one that killed Haldeman! That lightning gun could be drawn to my arm.”
“Layla, you can’t kill them!” Tommy said.
“Why not? They’re trying to kill us!” Layla said.
“They’re civilians, it won’t play well for the cameras!” Tommy said.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Layla said.
Tommy shrugged. His camera drones were flying through the wreckage and chaos, recording everything. Keeping her head low, Layla circled the ruins and darted into the street. Her arm and left side whirred as she propelled her cyborg body forward. She fired her P90 at the second mech. Bullets raked across the mech’s armour and ricocheted, not leaving a scratch. With its squat build and domed canopy, the second, tanklike mech was almost ten foot tall. It turned slowly on Layla and gave chase as she disappeared around one of the nearest buildings.
“Okay, great, so the four of us have just got to take out one bloody amateur in a bloody mech suit.” Digger said, “No worries.”
xXx
While two of the contest winners were terrorising City Center, the third mech had been unleashed on Towers where the rest of the mercenaries and freed contestants were waiting. Its build was a mixture of the lighter, faster build of the first mech and the tanklike second. Its right arm ended in a minigun with an armoured belt of ammunition and its left arm had a long weapon with a single barrel that ended in an X-shaped muzzle. Instead of hunting for the group left behind in Towers, however, the mech was parked by the side of one abandoned street. It was empty, its canopy open. The contest winner meant to be steering it, the one with the stomach issues, had taken off down a nearby alley.
“Oh, my God, I can’t believe this is happening.” The pilot groaned.
Leaning against the alley wall, pants pooled around his ankles, the contest winner squatted over cold concrete. He clutched his stomach, moaning. The man loved Slayerz and had never missed a season. He even had a multi-screen setup at home so he could tune into multiple feeds at once, as well as rewatches. He’d bought all the full-immersion VR experiences. The portly man had always wanted to be on the show but never to the extent of becoming a criminal himself. It had just been an idle fantasy until the Nutrition-Os contest had come along. Unfortunately, it turned out he literally didn’t have the constitution for it. Ever since reality had set in that morning, his stomach had been churning like an out-of-control cement mixer. Meds hadn’t helped, and he’d been using nothing but bottled water. The cause seemed to be totally psychological.
A buzzing noise skirted around the mouth of the alley. Midsection whirring, a camera drone moved in overhead and fixed its shiny lens on the mech pilot. Pants around his ankles, the man stared back in horror.
“Hey! Hey, come on now! Where did you come from?” The man said, “Don’t broadcast this, it’s embarrassing enough as it is!”
The pilot wav
ed at the camera drone ineffectually, like trying to swat a bug that was far out of reach. Hovering, the drone swivelled and pointed its lens down the alley, filming it for a moment before turning back on the squatting man. The contest winner was so fixated on the camera drone recording him with his pants down that he failed to take notice of his surroundings.
Dr Klou lunged and grabbed the man by the forehead with his taloned left hand. His oversized fingers wrapped halfway around the man’s skull. Lips drawn back from his teeth, the scientist looked like a rabid animal.
“Wha-, no!” The mech pilot yelled.
With superhuman strength, Klou drove the back of the man’s skull into the wall of the alley. The bone let out a sickening crack. Klou slammed their head into the concrete again and again until blood started to spray off the wall, snarling. A starburst of red was left splattered up the wall at the point of impact. Finally, Klou let them drop, pants still around their ankles. The contest winner was breathing thickly but a spongy crater had been beaten into the back of their head.
Dusting himself off, Klou backed away and returned down the alleyway. The man-shaped mech was waiting with its canopy propped open. Since killing the mercenary, Blomkamp, and running from the others, Klou had been biding his time and looking for a way out of the arena. With no kill switch, he could have left the same way the mercenaries had come in but he knew he’d never make it across the desert to something approximating civilisation. The mech might have been the perfect vehicle to get around the issue. Klou hadn’t had to kill the civilian pilot, or knock his brains in, but saw no reason not to.
Hand over monstrous hand, Klou clamoured up the side of the mech and slid into the pilot’s chair with Blomkamp’s gun hanging off his side. The controls laid out in front of him were deliberately simplistic. The contest winners must have been given some basic training but everything was clearly labelled. Klou had never driven a mech before but after a brief glance he was immediately satisfied it would present no issue. Klou closed the canopy and began to strap himself to the chair.
Kill Switch: Final Season Page 27