Then about twelve hours in, during darkness, the Delta fighters and Falcon aerial battle cruisers hit. Within minutes, the first bigger than a football field harvester arks began to land. A half hour later and people were screaming, running every which way in the dark, as the power grid began to fail. The harvester robots, six-wheeled oversized ATVs, blinded victims with extremely bright searchlights, contained in the ball shaped turret that extended from the vehicles chassis. Metal tentacles grabbed the victims, and the harvester robs dragged or carried the victims back to the harvester arks. Later the reason for these abductions were discovered.
The harvester arks were huge mobile butchering and process plants for the human meat they were collecting.
Mary Lou and her family had been on vacation from Silicon Valley, visiting friends to enjoy the ocean-based marine parks, as well as limited visits to Juarez, Mexico. They had managed to hunker down in their friends’ residence in the suburbs of San Diego for the first twenty-four hours. The power grid in the outer areas seemed to hold up better, as initially the Tschaaa and their minions had concentrated on downtown and port areas.
Then a harvester ark had plunked down a quarter mile from their friends’ home. Mary Lou and Kamal had run in their SUV, after failing to convince their friends to leave with them. The family of five was never heard from again.
Mary Lou moved slowly and cautiously towards the parking garage. On the street were a couple of burned out vehicles. One block of small businesses had been wiped out by fire and apparent combat. Bullet holes pockmarked some of the remaining concrete and brick walls. The cyborg robocops had been a huge shock. Fast, powerful with some energy and projectile weapons, they took on the points of resistance, allowing the harvester robots to do their horrific tasks. The fact that the cyborgs looked like they had stepped from a Hollywood backlot during the filming of a popular movie series also had a large psychological effect on the human populace.
Later, intermittent radio broadcasts reported that some fifty percent of the population within twenty miles of the ocean coast was harvested within the first thirty days. By then, everything had fallen apart. Much later, after a lot of moving and hiding, she and Kamal had found the warehouse with a few survivors. That was almost a year prior.
Mary Lou paused and listened about a block from her destination. She had gone hunting as a child with her now dead father in Eastern Washington State, and she knew how to move and listen so as not to spook the prey. Now, she and her friends and family were the prey.
She heard and saw nothing. No robocops, no harvester robs, nor any human sounds. She moved towards the ground floor of the parking garage, then carefully up the sloping down exit ramp. Mary Lou figured the lower levels would already be picked clean, and she did not have time to waste.
On the fourth and top level of the parking garage, she started walking from car to car. Over the last few months, she and the others had become adept at picking car locks, using some homemade lock picks they had fashioned. Some of the previous group members had come from very eclectic backgrounds. Mary Lou found nothing in the first two cars, but in the third trunk she had found a mother lode. Someone had gone shopping just before the first rock had hit. Mary Lou did not bother to look into the small cooler as she did not want to deal with the smell of bad dairy and ancient rotted meat. But in two boxes were cans of soup, vegetables, chili, beans and boxes of crackers and cereal. Add some bottles of water and a six pack of soda pop, and all she could do was say, “Bingo!” to herself.
She had a small child’s backpack and a doubled garbage bag, both of which she quickly filled. She grabbed the lighter stuff first, deciding that she would have to risk coming back here with another group member. Single humans were often ignored, but pairs and more seemed to draw the attention of robocops and harvesters. She shouldered her load and turned to leave when she heard the voice from behind one of the other vehicles.
“Hey, beautiful.” Then, stars and blackness.
Mary Lou did not know how long she had been unconscious, when some cold liquid to the face shocked her awake. She sputtered, then managed to open her eyes. The base of her skull ached, so she decided that was where she had been struck. She noticed she had just her panties on and was tied to a chair.
“Wake up. Time’s a-wasting.”
Mary Lou managed to focus her eyes on the source of the comment. She saw a scruffy male a few inches taller than her five and a half foot frame, with long greasy-looking dark hair and beard. The man looked about her age, in his early thirties. He smiled, showing surprisingly decent teeth.
“You are definitely good looking. You remind me of someone I saw once. I just can’t place you.” He paused, then grunted. “Hell, it doesn’t matter. You look healthy enough. Must have been eating pretty regularly. You’ll be a good replacement for the other two girls.”
At the mention of other people she looked up and noticed two young girls, cowering and whimpering in the opposite corner of the room. Under the dirt and sweat she could see they were literally just girls, probably no older than fifteen or sixteen. They were nude, so Mary Lou could imagine what the men had been doing to them. She angrily spat on the floor.
“Keep spitting. You’re the one who’s going to live in it.”
“You know, the others will come looking for me,” Mary Lou said. The man laughed.
“Yeah, right. You think we’re all fucking stupid? When you disappear from your group, no one comes looking. They all assume the robs got you. There’s still a few around, backed up by a few robocops. And sometimes…us.” With that, the greasy man opened up his dirty shirt and showed off his apparent pride and joy. He did not have a lot of hair on his chest, so Mary Lou had no trouble making out the octopus-shaped tattoo.
A Kraken—sign of the relatively new Church of Kraken and its supporters. Mary Lou had heard of them, but never seen a tattooed Kraken.
“So you’re a Squid lover,” Mary Lou stated matter of factly.
“Oh, a smart one, I see. Well, neither the aliens nor I give a shit what you call us. In fact, once they saw pictures of the deep sea giant squids, then found them, they think being a Squid is a badge of honor.”
Mary Lou stared at him a bit. “You sound well educated. How did you start doing this?” She knew from books she had read once that if a hostage gets the hostage takers talking to you like an individual person, they might think twice about killing you.
The man laughed. “Yeah, sure. I was a car mechanic. The Squids came, and I saw the writing on the wall. Then I found out I had a taste for long pig.” He flashed an evil grin at her.
“Long…” It sank in. He was one of the sick bastards who thought being a cannibal, eating human flesh made them like their rulers, the Tschaaa.
Just then, five more people came in, all male, talking and carrying bags.
“Well, looky here. She’s awake.” The speaker was an older, grey haired and bearded man, with somewhat cleaner clothes and body. He set the bag down and walked over to Mary Lou. He grabbed her chin and lifted her head up.
“Yeah, you’ll clean up real nice. Our local customers are looking for some new ass. You’ll definitely do.” He looked at the man who had talked to Mary Lou.
“Richie. Take her in back. Get her cleaned up. Let her see what happens if she gives us trouble.”
“Sure, Dad. Will do.”
Mary Lou looked at the older man. “Richie is your…”
A hard slap stopped her comment.
“Shut up. Talk when we, when I say. Now, if you haven’t figured this out yet, you are to be our new entertainment. As long as our customers like you, you stay alive, well fed, and get a shower once in a while. Cause me problems, you get turned into meat. Got it?”
The angry Mary Lou nodded her head. She looked at a nearby pile of clothes, and saw her jeans, blouse, and jacket were on top. Dad saw her look and grinned.
“You won’t need any clothes for today. If it gets colder, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, as lo
ng as you take care of us. Now, Richie. Untie her, handcuff her, and take her in back. Use the shower. I want her clean…for me.”
The rest of the men started laughing.
“Hey, Cap’n,” a balding man with bad teeth called out. “How about take her panties off, let us get a good look at all of her.”
Dad turned on him and snarled. “You leave her alone, Baldy. She’s mine. Then we put the word out we have new talent. You can pay for it like regulars can.” The rest of the men began to snicker.
“Richie. Get a move on. The rest of you, get this scavenged stuff put away. The other group will be back later, hopefully with more stuff.” He snorted. “As long as Shorty doesn’t piss off the local harvesters and robocops like he did last time. Asshole cost us two good men.”
The leader looked at Mary Lou again. “See, the robos around here know us. We find them fresh dark meat to feed the local Squids out in the bay. Word is, they’re breeding out there, although no one has gotten close enough to check—and lived.”
“Now, Richie. Get her cleaned up.”
“Yeah Dad. Clean meat coming right up.” Everyone laughed. Everyone but Mary Lou.
Ten minutes later she was having an actual hot shower. They had set up a propane gas water heater in the corner of the large back room. She thought she was in some former office building, but couldn’t really tell from the inside. Things had been changed too much.
Her thoughts returned to her clothes in the other room. Mixed in somewhere was the little five shot .38 she always carried when out scavenging. If only she hadn’t been caught so flat-footed.
“You have another five minutes. Clean yourself good. Dad is picky.”
Mary Lou grunted an affirmative. Her mind was now working a mile a minute. She knew she had to get away as soon as possible. Despite the hot water, she shivered. In the far corner from the shower was proof that the threat of turning her into meat was not idle. The torso of a woman, sans the head and arms, hung upside down like a side of beef. Mary Lou assumed the two young girls were next.
She finished her shower, stepped out, and used some towels provided to dry off, all under Richie’s watchful gaze. As she finished, he tossed her a silk kimono.
“Here. Put that on. It’s clean. And if I do say so myself, you’ll fill it out nicely.”
Mary Lou forced herself to say, “Thanks.” She knew her survival may depend on how “happy” she kept certain people. Then again, she had been in survival mode for the last sixteen months.
Richie escorted her out to the main room. Dad smiled as he saw her.
“Now I know who you look like! You’re the spitting image of that 1950s pin-up Bettie Page. Others have told you that, haven’t they?”
“Yes, they have.”
The smile turned into a grin. “Well, the gods are smiling on me today. Nice, young, and clean piece of ass that looks like a model. Not many like you around anymore. We’ll make a lot of scratch off you, once the word gets out to our regulars.”
Dad stepped forward, took her by the arm. “Now, let’s go in the side bedroom with the clean mattress. Time for a little initiation…”
Suddenly, the front double access doors exploded open, one door flying off its hinges to the center of the room. Everyone jumped—then stared awestruck as a huge armored humanoid shape stepped in.
A robocop. Mary Lou had never seen one this close before. She thought it must be close to seven feet tall. Then its voice boomed, “In the name of the Director, Adam Lloyd, cease and desist. Stand to and be inspected.”
Richie grabbed an assault rifle and began to fire. The rounds ricocheted off the huge cyborg, causing more danger to the humans than to it.
Then a human figure stepped in beside the robocop, carrying a Browning Automatic Rifle, circa World War II. A burst of 30 Caliber bullets tore Richie to pieces, demonstrating that despite its age, the weapon was still highly effective.
Dad bellowed, grabbed Mary Lou, and started to put a knife against her throat.
“Stop!” Dad yelled. Before he could continue, another human stepped in on the left side of the cyborg and shot Dad through his right eye with a silenced submachine gun. By now, the other four Krakens were trying to run for the exits. Mary Lou stood frozen, as Dad collapsed to the floor, dead. The one with the sub gun was a tall, handsome man who seemed to glide to Mary Lou.
“Are you okay?” The man with what Mary Lou noticed were steely blue gray eyes asked.
“I guess.” Mary Lou stared at the robocop as it strode forward, moving with a grace that belied its size.
“Director, I want you and Chief Hamilton to stay behind me, until I clear out the miscreants.”
“What, and let a bunch of ricochets fly around?” That came from the older, stockier man with the BAR.
“I assure you, Chief, I had the path of ricochets calculated. No one of any consequence would have been hit.”
“So you say, Tin Man.”
Mary Lou looked at the one called the Director. “You’re him. The guy they mentioned on the radio. You exist.”
“Director Adam Lloyd, Occupied States. And you are?”
Mary Lou shoved him hard and ran out the broken entrance. The cyborg robocop started to grab her, but the one called Director yelled, “No Andrew! I’ll get her.”
Somewhere in her mind, the fact that the man machine had a human name registered for future examination. But right now, Mary Lou just ran.
She heard the voices of the Director and the one called the Chief behind her, calling her to stop. But she kept running.
Despite her bare feet, it took her about ten minutes to figure out where she was and then beelined to where her group’s hideout was. Some part of her brain heard the two men behind her, knew her bare feet were being cut and banged up, but she did not care.
As she neared the block where the basement hideout was located, she heard an unfortunate, but well-recognized sound. She glanced to her right and saw the harvester robot bearing down on her, all six wheels humming. She screamed and tried to make it down to the access stairs to the basement—then saw a metal tentacle reaching towards her.
Mary Lou heard the silenced submachine gun fire with its clacking of the bolt. The harvester turned toward the Director as the rounds struck, its metal body and ball turret resisting the 9mm rounds. It pointed the iris of the blinding capture light at the Director.
Then she heard the loud bark of a 30 Caliber automatic rifle, coming from the man called the Chief. The heavy rounds sliced through the robot’s chassis and turret. Within seconds, the six wheels of the mechanical threat froze up, as it exploded in a shower of sparks and smoky electrical guts.
Mary Lou made it to the basement stairs and began to clamber down. As she neared the bottom, she screamed. A large darkening pool of blood extended from the bottom of the stairs and through the open, broken door. She slid in the blood and almost fell, but continued into what had been her hidden home for months.
“Kamal! Susie! Johnathan!” Her yells began to take on a piercing quality, as she dashed through the living areas.
No one. Nothing, except for more pools of blood.
Mary Lou slid to a stop on her blood slickened feet. “Anybody? It’s Mary Lou! Come out!” Silence. A loud wailing came from her mouth, as she heard the voices of her two pursuers behind her.
“Mary Lou. Is that your name? Look, we’ll help…” Adam Lloyd got only partly through his comments when he was hit full force by a screaming, crying, whirling dervish.
“You fuckers! You and those robots killed them!” She hit, kicked, clawed, and bit at the Director, slamming into him so hard that she pushed him back almost to the basement entrance.
She felt strong arms pinning her arms and hands from behind. The man known as the Chief had slung his weapon and had grabbed her, as she tried to kick and head butt herself free.
“Damnit, lady. We had nothing to do with this,” the Chief tried to explain.
Strong hands grabbed her naked thigh, and bef
ore she could try and kick them loose felt a sharp prick on her left butt cheek. A spreading warmth told her that the Director had injected her with something.
“No!” Mary Lou yelled, until she became weak and a bit numb. Then everything began to blur.
“Come on, Chief. Let’s get her back to transport, and get the hell out of here.” Everything went dark.
Mary Lou came out of the fog an unknown time later. At first, it felt like she had just woken from a bad dream. Reality soon sunk in, and she began to sob. Only then did she realize a large robocop was sitting nearby, watching her. She must have shown that she was startled, as the cyborg spoke.
“I am not a threat, Mary Lou, contrary to your previous experience with my kind. My name is Andrew.”
She saw that it/he had a human mouth, chin, lips, lower cheeks. The upper part of his face was covered by an armored visor with some type of built in vision device, or devices. His skin looked light colored, probably of caucasian descent. It dawned on her for the first time that he was part human, homo sapien, modern type. She tried to sit up from the bench she was on and only succeeded in making herself nauseous. She began to throw up the contents of her stomach on the metal floor of the transport vehicle, and would have fallen over into her own vomit, if Andrew had not caught her. She felt very strong, but padded hands on her—as the cyborg gently wiped her face. He laid her back down and produced a bottle with some liquid in it.
“Here. My own formula. Call it a super sports drink with all the required electrolytes. My comrades and I ingest this all the time.” Mary Lou sipped it with no protest, figuring it would be too late to poison her now.
She sat quietly, then realized someone had put on her panties, blouse and jeans. Her feet were bare, but had been bandaged. She looked at the being calling himself Andrew.
“You?” she asked.
The huge robocop lightly shook his head.
“Director Lloyd did the honors, with the aid of Chief Hamilton. I did help with the medical examination. My sensor array is quite precise.”
Free Range Protocol- Tales of the Tschaaa Infestation Page 19