Prototype Exodus (Prototype D Series Book 2)

by Jason D. Morrow

  “Do they know that the robot problem is my fault?” she asked.

  “It’s not, Hazel. It is the fault of those who abuse power. That is all.”

  She knew he was right, but that didn’t explain Esroy. He was her first creation and her worst. He had been a friend to her for so long. But his imprisonment had been too much for him. Her unwillingness to allow him to go free and become his own person had corrupted him. Now here they were, fighting the same enemy they had fought five years before.

  This felt no different. It was no different. This was merely an extension of the fight that had never finished—a fight that was never truly won.

  Hazel looked toward the entrance and could see Des and Nolan talking together. Nolan’s hands were moving wildly and it seemed that they were strategizing. It was a meeting Hazel needed to be a part of.

  She turned to her father and hugged him tightly. “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you, Hazel,” he said. “You make me proud.”

  “Even if I’m fighting for the wrong side?”

  “The wrong side is the side that steals for personal gain,” he said. He held her out at arm’s length and stared at her with his dead eyes. It was as though he could see her, or perhaps he was just imagining that he could see her young face again. How desperately he must have wanted that. “Bracken and Esroy are on the wrong side. If you stop them, then maybe all this warring can come to an end and we can live in peace from now on.”

  “I will do my best,” she said.

  John swallowed as more water came to his eyes. “Esroy won’t want to kill you. Bracken is another matter. If you have a choice, go after Esroy. You will have a better chance of taking him out.”

  “I’ve already thought about that,” Hazel said.

  She reached in and hugged her father again. She pulled away from him quickly, but not before he planted a firm kiss on her cheek.

  It broke her heart to leave him here like this. For some reason it felt like she was saying goodbye to him for the last time and that she would never get another chance to speak to him.

  She knew that if and when the Outlanders secured the military compound, it would be the job of the remaining soldiers who were left behind to secure the Southern Zone, while Hazel would probably be stuck in the middle of the city for a long time. That scenario meant this very well could be the last time she ever saw him.

  But there were other scenarios. What if she faced Esroy and he didn’t care about her anymore? She had to prepare herself that this was a possibility. Or what if she faced off against Bracken and his elite soldiers and they showed no mercy? Or what if she got three feet out of the gate and a stray bullet passed through her skull?

  Any small thing could kill her.

  The thought suddenly made her realize that she had never asked for this. She hadn’t planned on starting a revolution. This was all Nolan’s doing.

  But it wasn’t. Hazel felt an immeasurable amount of responsibility. Had she never made Soul, Bracken would have had a harder time keeping control of the population. Esroy would have never been a problem.

  But Des would have never been made.

  She looked at the robot. He was so self-sacrificial. So ready to toss aside his own needs. Hazel had not made him that way. That was just the way he chose to be.

  That had to count for something.

  The deafening noise of rumbling trucks cut through the morning air like a war horn as a call to action. No one rested in the Southern Zone. Those who were going to battle were in the trucks or hanging off the sides. Those who were staying behind watched them with hope in their eyes as the gates were pushed open.

  Hazel felt herself shaking as she stood next to Des. Nolan had opened the doors with the assistance of a couple of robots and it was time for them to leave.

  Hazel and Des both raised their rifles above their heads. Hazel screamed at the top of her lungs though the noise was drowned in a sea of groaning engines. The inability to hear the scream made her feel no less invigorated. But invigoration did not steal away her fear.

  The soldiers within the trucks could not be seen, but the ones hanging off the sides were raising their guns in the air as well, screaming just as loudly, though the sound was just as muffled. Their noise could probably be heard for miles outside of Mainland, but at the very least, Hazel hoped that they had awakened every sleeping person in the city.

  The gates were fully open and Nolan gave her a thumbs up. He then ran to one of the front trucks and hung off the side next to the driver’s door.

  Des looked down at Hazel and leaned in, bringing his mouth close to her ear. “I want you to stay close to me,” he said. “I want to keep you safe.” He leaned away from Hazel, but did not wait for her to give an answer. He had simply given her an order that he expected her to follow.

  She appreciated Des’ devotion to her, but this time was different than the last. Last time they road with the Outlanders, the two of them were foreigners who didn’t feel truly apart of the Outlander rebellion. This time, however, Hazel knew their oppression. She had felt it every day for the last five years. This was as much her war as it was theirs. She had nearly lost her father due to the treatment of the Mainland government. This fight was for him. It was for all of them. And it was for Hazel.

  She would stay close to Des, but only because they made a good team. She would not shy away from the fight.

  She got onto the lead truck and held onto the handle behind the driver’s side door. She smacked the side of the truck with her hand three times, and the truck took off.

  With an entire army behind her, Hazel made her way to the military compound.

  46

  Des was relieved to see that Bracken or Esroy hadn’t been just outside the gate to meet them. He wasn’t sure what they would have done if that had been the case.

  Strategy wise, Des wasn’t sure what the other side was planning. It seemed logical to Des that a preemptive strike against the Outlanders would have been the best call, but he knew the government still wanted the support of their people when this was all over. To attack part of the city preemptively might look bad on their part.

  He felt guilty about keeping his and Nolan’s plan from Hazel. She deserved to know the truth, but she wouldn’t go for it. Especially the part about Des staying behind and helping the people defend the military compound.

  As much as he hated to admit it, Nolan’s plan was the best plan. It was the only plan. With the number of Outlanders versus the number of robots against them, the Outlanders might be able to withstand a month’s worth of battling before they were completely annihilated. It would only be a matter of time. With Nolan’s strategy, the Outlanders stood a good chance of winning.

  He still hadn’t let go of the fact that Nolan had been planning to just destroy all the robots without any attempt to save the good ones. This alone made him distrust Nolan immensely, but there wasn’t time to make an issue of it. Des was just glad that he convinced Nolan to change his mind before they left.

  He looked at the truck riding next to his. The wind was blowing through Hazel’s hair. His sensors indicated that the air was cold and he could tell that it cut at her cheeks like knives. Her face was red from the same wind that whipped her hair behind her.

  He felt scared for her. And he felt sad. Des had been brought into a life filled with hardship in the middle of Hazel’s story. He had not been there from the beginning, but he had seen enough to know that all this bloodshed needed to stop. If the humans didn’t watch out, there would be none of them left.

  That was what they were here to stop.

  Des looked ahead of them and could still see no resistance. Ten minutes went by. Twenty. He knew Hazel’s fingers had to feel frozen as she held on tightly to the truck. But her resolve had not changed. She stared ahead with the determination of a true fighter. She wasn’t here to back down, and a cold chill was not going to send her away.

  The military compound gradually came into view. Des felt nervou
s. Not for himself but for the others. He didn’t want to fail. Esroy needed to be destroyed. Bracken needed to be taught a lesson.

  Des zoomed his vision ahead and he could see robots guarding the compound. These robots didn’t have any special markings on them but for their identification numbers on their shoulder plates. None of them sported the blue paint that would otherwise declare them an Outlander now. Their enemy was in plain white. They were the brainwashed ones. Their version of Soul was polluted with misinformation that no words would simply erase. These robots were tainted and to kill them would be to grant them mercy.

  The engines revved even louder and the trucks lurched forward. Des ducked as bullets whizzed past his head. The Mainland robots were firing at them.

  He shook his head. Why was he cowering? These bullets wouldn’t penetrate him. At least, it was unlikely.

  He slung his rifle to his free hand and aimed it at the soldiers ahead of them. These robots were armored but lightly so. If a bullet hit the right spot, the robot would be rendered useless. Severed wires in the neck would make their entire system shut down, but it would take a skilled shot. The same was true for the Outlander robots. Des had told them to keep their head down unless they were firing shots.

  But the neck wasn’t their only weakness. Bullets might often bounce from an N-series robot, but enough of them hitting the same spot would penetrate their armor quickly enough and could cause some serious damage to their vital circuits.

  The Mainland government had really taken a step down from the prototypes five years before. Des might not have been indestructible, but he carried a significant advantage over these robots. But Des made no mistake: enough of them with their weapons trained on him could do some damage, or worse.

  The trucks screeched to a stop and Des immediately leaped off the vehicle and took aim at the nearest set of enemy robots. There were about twenty of them charging toward the convoy.

  Des shot and aimed, shot and aimed, each bullet hitting its target with perfect accuracy. Outlander soldiers, human and robots alike, poured out of the trucks and immediately began firing their weapons.

  Des saw bullets hit the ground and even the building behind them. The humans were clumsy and less skilled, while the robots were careful and aimed straight.

  Des feared for the humans. He looked to his left and found Hazel who aimed her gun at the robots, but her finger laid off the trigger. He positioned himself to be just in front of her in case there were any stray bullets coming her way.

  “Des, stop!”

  “Stay behind me,” he said.

  “I don’t need your help!”

  Hazel charged ahead of him, but Des was faster.

  “When are you going to listen to me?”

  A bullet slammed against the back of Des’ shoulder and he staggered forward. “You haven’t even fired a shot!”

  Hazel didn’t say anything to this, but Des knew why she hadn’t. He knew the conflict within her. In a way, these were all her creations. These robots were here because of her.

  “Hazel!” Des shouted. “These robots want to kill all of us! You have to fight.” He shook his head as they stared into each other’s eyes. “You have to.”

  Hazel clenched her jaw and screamed out as she shoved past Des. She aimed her rifle toward the coming robots and this time she didn’t let up on the trigger.

  Boom!

  Boom!

  Boom!

  Some of them found their marks. Others went wide. Des stood next to her, each of his shots aimed for the enemy’s necks. As the Outlanders charged forward, the Mainland robots fell.

  But the firing was only a small portion of the battle. Soon they were up close, and once they reached the ascending stairs to the structure’s entrance, it was hand-to-hand combat.

  Des knew this was where the humans would struggle the most. Flesh against metal was no good. Clubs against metal were better than nothing. But still, the hand-to-hand portion was for the robots.

  Des charged ahead, leading at least forty blue-painted robots up the stairs. They were met with a spray of bullets. Some near Des fell. Others took the brunt of the bullets. Des tried to take as many bullets as possible, jumping in front of a fellow robot if he saw an enemy aiming at him.

  Soon, they were on top of the enemy. Des emptied the rifle of bullets into the crowd of them and then flipped it and held the rifle like a club and swung it down on the first robot he encountered. The rifle was immediately rendered useless as the barrel bent and the robot’s head flew off.

  He no longer needed the rifle and flung it quickly toward an oncoming enemy. The butt of the gun landed squarely in the robot’s face, denting it inward, crushing its memory core.

  Des was a monster among the N-series robots. He kicked, punched, and even threw them down the stairs. Almost every robot he encountered ended up in pieces.

  If there was ever an emotion that he could express through physicality, it was anger, and he let his anger feed him. One robot he came up against must have seen his ferocity, and he cowered in Des’ wake. Des showed no mercy as he reached for the robot, grabbed him by the arm and yanked backward. The arm came free and Des smashed it against the robot’s head, denting it so much that its neck was crushed. The robot fell over limply and Des grabbed it by the leg and swung it into another group of robots, knocking them over in a line.

  He let the thoughts of his friends from the village feed him. These were the ones who allowed that to happen. These were the robots who wanted to kill Hazel. They wanted to kill Des.

  Des had to kill them. He needed to kill them. He wanted to kill them.

  The robots, both Outlander and Mainlander, fought each other until there was little more than a junk pile of scrap metal on the ground.

  When the last robot was destroyed, the people started cheering. But Des shook his head, knowing this was only the beginning.

  He spun around when he heard Hazel calling his name. She ran up to him, and Nolan was with her.

  “What’s next?” Des asked.

  “We’ve got to clear the building,” Nolan said.

  “Something isn’t right,” Des said. “There aren’t enough enemies here. We only killed about a hundred of them. Where is the resistance?”

  “Why don’t we just get inside and find out?” Nolan said.

  Des nodded and led the way. He held no gun in his hands, but there were more than enough guns next to him, and he felt more confident with his brute strength anyway.

  The Military Compound seemed empty. Des kept a watchful eyes as they moved forward. At first he had thought the resistance was going to be heavy, but was it possible that the Mainlanders simply didn’t have anyone here because they didn’t think the Outlanders would be attacking?

  Des couldn’t assume that was the case. Bracken was too smart. Esroy was too smart. Something wasn’t right.

  They were at the top of the stairs and they moved with anxious vigilance. Des was sure to stay in front of Hazel without looking like he was trying to stay in front of Hazel.

  Hundreds of Outlander robots and Outlander humans gathered around the entrance. Others remained in the compound parking lot, ready and waiting for another attack.

  A group of blue-painted robots moved quickly to the doors at Des’ command and got ready to open the entrance. The doors were glass, but they were mirrored and impossible to see through. Des tried to register heat signatures, but either the glass was too thick, or there was no one behind the doors at all.

  Des gave the command for the robots to open the doors as other’s aimed their barrels for any surprise to come. But when they looked into the compound, there was no one there to meet them.

  Des looked at Hazel and Nolan, both of them as perplexed as he was. Each of them rushed into the compound lobby, a giant room with marbled floors and a ceiling at least sixty feet high.

  But Des’ eyes weren’t on the ceiling when he went in. His eyes were glued to the floor as was anyone else’s who entered through the glass entr
ances.

  Hazel gasped and Nolan covered his mouth as tears came to his eyes. In the middle of the lobby floor was President Lester Vaughn. A bullet hole was large and gaping in the middle of his head, his eyes open, his face making a frightened expression as if to confirm that his last moment was of terror.

  There were large letters smeared above his head—letters made of the man’s own blood. They simply spelled: welcome.

  Des immediately recognized the move. This was Esroy’s signature work.

  Des watched as Nolan’s face went from a sickened sadness to a terrible anger that threatened to boil out of him. The man looked at Des and shook his head. Tears rolled down Nolan’s face. He doubled over and set his hands on his knees. Nolan started coughing so hard that Des thought he might break a rib. The cough turned into a dry heave. He then straightened himself upward and started walking again. “He was my friend,” Nolan said. “He was my friend. He taught me everything. He opened my eyes.”

  “We know,” Des said. “We know…” He meant the words as sincerely as he could. Des did know what Nolan felt, yet Des had never gotten to do what Nolan was doing right now. He stared at Nolan almost with envy. His mourning was already healing him, and in the next few moments he would use that sadness and turn it into action.

  Des had to bottle up his feelings. Always bottle them up.

  He reached out and set a firm hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “We have to think about the situation,” Des said.

  Des looked from Nolan to Hazel. “It’s a trap. Somehow they know we’re coming.”

  “You’re right,” Hazel said.

  Des let go of Nolan’s shoulder and walked toward Lester’s body. He knelt down in front of the man and Hazel stood next to him.

  “Esroy has done this before,” Des said. “With your father. He had written words with your father’s blood.”

  “I don’t understand why he would do that,” Hazel said.

  “To drive fear,” Des answered. “Somewhere in Esroy’s dark, twisted mind, he thinks this will hinder us from fighting well. But he doesn’t know what’s coming to him.”