“Fucking robot tanks, mechs, fucking drones, all these bloody war machines taking the jobs of honest, working battlers.” Digger said, “Whatever happened to the good old days? Sending a few thousand cold and starving, barely trained boys in the sixteen to nineteen-year-old range to run directly at some mounted machine gun nests until they’d been chewed up and spit out into glorious Valhalla? Making the other son of a bitch die for his country?”
Digger babbled as they moved around the outskirts of the blasted marketplace. It was a good thing they had taken anti-rad medication earlier because no doubt all the ruins they were climbing and circling were highly radioactive. Digger guided Homer up another pile of rocks with pieces of rebar jutting out like ribs.
“I’m telling you, you can target a country from space with satellites, you can bomb it into glass with drones, you can send in your little walking tanks and synthetics to shoot every poor bastard they see on sight. You don’t own it until you got boots, proper boots with human feet inside them, on the bloody ground. “ Digger said, “Great big metal fucking scorpion with all the killing bits sticking off it, it’s spectacular, don’t get me wrong. But lacks the personal touch of sliding a serrated bayonet between the ribs of another man, screaming in a language you’ve never heard before right in your face though, don’t it?”
Homer, of course, said nothing as he followed the Australian. The boy was tired after they had been running, fighting and hiding all day, but Digger noticed a surprising alertness in his face. Although he was still mute, Homer didn’t seem to be as emotionally blank. He absorbed Digger’s words without judgement all the same.
“What are you looking at me like that for, mate?” Digger said, “Think I did the wrong thing in leaving that lot behind? You saw what happened! They’re dead, we’re still bloody here, mate. I did what I had to do to make sure we survived.”
Eyes wide under the brim of his helmet, Homer stared at Digger and blinked. Digger backed up against the smooth surface of a nearby building.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Digger said, “I was supposed to cover the one who got carved up? Well the others got blasted as well, they’re all dead. I don’t know how this is going to turn out but I’m keeping you and me alive for the bloody duration and I’m not fucking sorry about it.”
Digger pulled Homer down the alleyway by the back of his vest. He kept his UMP45 tucked against his hip with his other hand. The weapon would do nothing against the scorptank but Digger hadn’t forgotten there were still two contestants in the City Center section that they hadn’t seen, Boche and Uzi Kahneman. According to the list, they had survived the mini-nuke blast but must have either been trapped by rubble or keeping their heads down.
“You want to get judgey with me, Homer my old son? Why don’t you get those bloody powers switched back on, ey?” Digger said, “You could be of some bloody use then, couldn’t you? Maybe I could have covered them if I wasn’t spending all my energy taking care of your narrow arse! Fucking mutant, not using your powers for good or evil, just being a fucking waste of space.”
Only a thread of concern appeared to be playing across Homer’s face. Not far away, the scorptank went stomping by, armour clanking. Digger and Homer zigzagged through the buildings toward the other exit. The tunnel to the Towers section was still looming open.
“Come on then, we’ll link up with the others and see, see what’s happening from there.” Digger said.
xXx
“Allah be praised I’m so hungry I could eat the south end of a north-facing camel you feeling me?” Bolt said.
The speedster raided the robotic pack mule that had been faithfully following the group. The pack mule was carrying the last EMP device and their remaining weapons and ammunition but there was also food and water gathered around its hindquarters. They hadn’t expected to be in the arena long enough to need MREs but had come prepared. The mule let out a whining noise like a dog as Bolt jostled it. After burning so much energy shooting around the construction site, Bolt was nearly starving. Withdrawing several MREs, long, foil-wrapped packages marked with contents, he waved them in the air in victory.
Several low stacks of pallets had been set up in the shadow of the unfinished building to create an area for workers to sit and rest. Having limped down the stairs, DFN was resting on one of them with her injured leg stretched out in front of her. Her lightweight sniper rifle was propped against the pallets at her side. Bolt circled around at lightning speed and dropped onto another stack. He had already stripped the tops off three MREs and began to pour out the edible contents, vacuum sealed in clear plastic.
“Skittles!” Bolt said.
Miller paced, watching the two of them. Tired from running, she couldn’t sit down yet. Instead, she keyed the mic that rested against her throat inside her suit collar.
“Jackson? Cho? Haldeman?” Miller said, “This is Miller, Ridley is dead, Ellis took off but I’m with the contestants. Awaiting instructions, over.”
Static was the only reply Miller got. The Slayerz producers were blocking all their communications, which shouldn’t be surprising. She’d tried a dozen times already, no answer from the others or from the outside world. If the group had succeeded in their goal of getting to the control centre and setting off the EMP they would know it. Comms wouldn’t work at all in that case and their pack mule would shut itself down. Without orders, Miller figured the only option they had was to make it back to the rendezvous point and hope.
Echo Three stood away from the others, away from the shadow of the building. Murky sunlight gleamed off the metal plugs down the side of her head. She watched the damaged mech she had toasted with the EMP grenade. The cabin interior was already foggy with condensation from Klou being trapped inside. Axe swinging from one hand, Echo gently tossed a small chunk of brick in her other hand as if weighing it up. Throwing it higher, she got the axe in both hands, waited for the rock to come back down, and swung. Like the EMP grenade, the rock glanced off the flat of the axe head and was sent sailing through the air. It clanged off the top of the mech’s canopy and bounced to the ground behind it. The shadowy figure inside the robot suit, slumped over the controls, didn’t move.
“Hey, you’ve got a good swing.” Miller walked over to Echo, “You should try out for baseball, unenhanced women’s league.”
“What’s baseball?” Echo said.
“You’ve never heard of baseball before?” Miller said.
“Don’t know.” Echo said, “Place I was at before wiped most of my memories, all I get are flashes, random words and pictures.”
Echo tossed another piece of rubble into the air, swung and hit it. The rock ricocheted off the side of the Slayer mech’s canopy and spun to the ground. Miller retracted the faceplate of her helmet and then removed it completely. Short, ginger hair fell loosely out of her helmet. Miller’s face was unassuming, freckled with an upturned nose. She was not much older than Echo Three, in her mid-twenties. The medic gestured at the left side of her own head, indicating the half a dozen holes riveted in Echo’s skull.
“Something to do with-, those?” Miller said.
“Easy access, stuck spikes in my brain and shocked different areas. Trying to give me powers, like Homer.” Echo said, “Didn’t work, didn’t stop them trying. Lucky they only fried my memories. Others, fried their ways to talk, to move around, to remember how to breathe. Got taken away. Tried to escape, didn’t work out.”
“That sounds horrible, I’m sorry.” Miller said.
“Why did you come here? To save people?” Echo asked.
Miller looked down as if embarrassed, and then brushed some hair from her face. Echo, indifferent, hit and sent a third rock sailing into Klou’s dead mech where it bounced off the mech’s metal chest with a bang. Behind them, Bolt was eating and DFN rested her injured leg.
“I guess-, if you asked any of the others they’d have said they came here because they were getting paid a lot of money, and there’s that.” Miller said, “I was h
ired as a medic and because I could handle a gun.”
“That’s it?” Echo said.
“No-, my brother died on one of these shows.” Miller said, “Not Slayerz, it was before Slayerz on one of those-, well, I guess you won’t remember, will you? Before Slayerz and the other shows that picked up the same formula there were other game shows. They didn’t have to use convicts because the games weren’t necessarily lethal but they were super dangerous. All the contestants signed waivers that shouldn’t have ever been legal, and people were tuning in hoping to see someone die, like going to the races and waiting for a crash. Shop Til You Drop, The Hanging Man, Hot or Cold. My brother was ten years older than me. To get the family some money he went on this stupid show called Clown Car, didn’t even last a full season. The game was you had to pick how many clowns could squeeze into this tiny car with you while you drove around a circus-themed track. The more clowns and the faster you completed the course, the more prizes. The clowns were meant to distract you however they could. He crashed into the back of an elephant. Between the amount of people shoved in the little car and the airbag, he suffocated before the on-set medics could get him out. It was the highest ratings Clown Car ever got and they still cancelled it two weeks later.”
Tears burned in Miller’s eyes. She hid her face, wiping them away, aware there were still cameras placed around the Slayerz arena that would be watching. Echo placed a comforting hand on the shoulder of her white armour.
“Sounds like a really stupid way to die.” Echo said.
“It was!” Miller half-laughed, half-sobbed, “People kept giggling at the funeral!”
Miller and Echo were interrupted as they heard a weird snuffling sound outside the fence, across the construction site. Bullet holes from Klou’s minigun tattered the sheets of canvas covering the wire link fencing. Something huge and dark, and alive, moved just outside. All that could be seen was its shadow and impressions of leathery skin as it blocked the ragged holes in the canvas. Miller reached for her gun, dropping her helmet and leaving her head uncovered, while Echo’s hands tightened around the handle of her fire axe.
The creature threw itself against the fence, which clanged, wobbled along its length, and started to collapse. It slammed the fence harder, knocking it to the ground and them stomping over the remains. The beast was a monstrous black rhinoceros. It seemed to have attacked the fence in a fit of pique and now wandered into the site. Taller than Miller at the shoulder, the rhino would have been over twelve foot long and weighed more than two and a half tonnes. Covered in incredibly thick, leathery skin, the rhino was a walking tank, maybe even more so than the mech Dr Klou had been steering.
“Mutant animals.” Miller said, “The monkeys and lions weren’t the only ones left in here!”
Like the lions and baboons, the rhino had been mutated and badly eaten away by disease. Red rash littered its dark hide and was eating away whole chunks of flesh. One massive patch down the rhino’s side had eaten so deeply that Miller could see the impression of its ribcage starting to poke through. At the front of its snout, the rhino’s horn split in two and jutted in different directions. Its lower jaw hung loosely, malformed. Behind the split horn was a third horn jutting up between the creature’s eyes and a fourth horn stuck out the side of the rhino’s head, curving up like the horn of a bull. Bony spikes sprouted out of one of the rhino’s shoulders and ran down the length of its spine. It regarded Miller and the contestants with its piggy eyes and huffed. One massive hoof pawed the dirt.
“Oh, shit.” Miller said.
Back legs thrusting into motion, the rhinoceros started to charge. The pounding of its feet seemed to shake the earth. It moved as if to circle around the mech and bear down on the contestants with its horns and massive bulk, mindlessly enraged by their presence. Like the lions, it was probably half-mad with hunger and because of the red rash. Miller hefted her submachine gun but the bullets almost certainly wouldn’t penetrate the giant’s hide unless she landed an incredibly lucky shot.
Suddenly, the rhino’s left eye imploded. Blood and ocular fluid squirted from the socket. The bullet that had torn through its eye glanced off bone and ricocheted around the animal’s thick skull like a pinball, puncturing its tiny brain in half a dozen places. The rhino continued its charge for several more metres before realising it was dead. Turning sideways, it heaved and was thrown into the dirt by momentum. Two and a half tonnes of grey flesh and bone threw a cloud of choking dust into the air. The rhino grunted, spasming, and went still.
DFN was sitting on the stack of pallets, her braced leg stretched out in front of her. Stock against her shoulder, the sniper rifle she’d been carrying wisped smoke from its barrel. She lowered the gun against her side.
“One shot, one kill.” DFN said, “Can we go home yet?”
xXx
Tommy Nguyen woke up in total darkness, unable to see anything of his surroundings. For a few moments, he was convinced the searing blast from the scorptank had actually blinded him. The laser had filled the gap between the closing blast doors and shot the length of the tunnel. It missed Tommy but he’d been thrown off his feet and into the wall. His camera glasses had been knocked off and he must have hit his head, knocking him unconscious. Gathering himself on his hands and knees, Tommy started to crawl.
“Layla? Layla?” Tommy shouted.
Something sparked in the darkness, spitting glowing embers. For the tunnel to be so black the doors must have been closed on both ends and all the lights shut off. The sparks were the only source of light Tommy could see. He crawled over toward them. Feeling around, Tommy discovered the sparking was attached to a human-shaped form. He reached for a neck and found that they were breathing.
“Layla!” Tommy said.
Remembering the camera mounted to his armour, Tommy reached for his left shoulder. It was intact and a small but powerful flashlight was mounted to its underside. The bright lamp bathed Layla, flat on her back. Her mechanical left arm was missing at the shoulder, all that was left was a sparking stump with the rim poking out from her armour. Tommy shook Layla until she came around, squinting and groaning into the glare.
“What the hell just-” Layla started.
Layla trailed off. She looked down at her left side and saw her arm was gone. The cut from the laser blast was clean, leaving behind a neat cross section of armour and fried circuitry. Clawing at the ground with her right hand, Layla struggled to sit up.
“Damn it, I mustn’t have gotten out of the way fast enough.” Layla said, “Just barely got inside, my arm was holding the doors open and that laser sliced it clean off at the shoulder. The rest of me was protected by the door.”
“Are you okay?” Tommy said.
Layla groaned as she tried to sit up straight, “I’ll be alright.” She said, “Get it? Alright? All right?”
Besides her arm, the left side of Layla’s face looked like a bad sunburn. It separated her face almost perfectly in two. Heat from the laser blast had fused her armour down the left side of her chest. The pistol that had been strapped under her left arm was reduced to slag along with its holster and the chestplate wouldn’t move, restricting her breathing. Layla got to her feet and reached under her collar. The top half of her armour and her pack fell away and landed with a clatter. Under the armour, Layla was wearing a short-sleeved, black undershirt molded to her chest and stomach. It would do nothing to protect her like the armour but Layla could breathe and move normally. Her exposed, heavily muscled right arm looked completely unbalanced with the mechanical left one gone. Glowing sparks continued to spit occasionally from the stump. Grimacing, Layla moved her left side stiffly and awkwardly.
“You remember how the battery for my arm was just below my elbow? It supplied energy to all the mechanical parts down my left side.” Layla said, “Without it, all those parts feel like they weigh a tonne. They’ll slow me down, and leech off my body’s energy until I can get hooked up to something else.”
“And we’re trapped in
here with who knows what going on outside, and almost out entire team dead.” Tommy said, “Can it get any worse?”
Something scuttled through the darkness, midway down the tunnel. Tommy swept around and the light under his shoulder-cam painted the walls of the tunnel but failed to penetrate deeper into the darkness.
“You had to ask.” Layla said.
Layla knelt down and rooted through the armour and pack she’d disposed of, one-handed. She retrieved the heavy calibre Ruger revolver that had been holstered under her right armpit and took the remaining speed loaders and a weaponlight from the pack. The light attached magnetically to the underside of her revolver barrel. As she straightened there was another scuttling noise in the dark. It was obvious with the tunnel sealed there would be some way of wiping out whoever got locked inside, as promised.
“Over there!” Tommy said.
Tommy’s camera had locked onto movement. Drawing his handgun, he pointed it at the threat. The beam of light captured a small bot with a boxy body and four long, flexible legs. There was an attachment not unlike Tommy’s shoulder-cam on its back in place of a head. As Tommy studied it, the camera-like head started to glow blue.
“Look out!” Layla said.
Layla shoved Tommy sideways with her gun in hand. A blue beam fired out of the bot’s head. The cutting laser seared the air and scorched a hole in one of the blast doors behind the pair, shooting right between them. Layla aimed and fired, thunderous in the enclosed tunnel. The gun’s kickback was harder to handle one-handed without her mechanical arm but Layla kept it under control. The first bullet ripped the droid’s cutting laser off. Layla fired again, the bullet blowing off a leg and burying itself in the bot’s body, putting it down permanently.
Kill Switch: Final Season Page 32