This Machine Kills

by Steve Liszka

  Lennox and Skinner laughed as Doyle’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

  When they finished chuckling, Lennox shook his head, “Nah, fuck the City man, I’d rather take my chances out here. At least we still get to have some fun.”

  “Not for long,” Rudy said, “what do you think’s gonna happen when the wall is finished? They ain’t going to need us much longer.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Rogers interrupted, causing the others to look up at him in surprise. He was a man of few words and usually avoided such idle, speculative conversation.

  “SecForce get too much money from the government for us. They’ll make sure we’ve got something to do.”

  Taylor knew he was right too.

  Rudy lit his cigarette, inhaling deeply before turning to Doyle, “So what’s a college boy like you doing joining up? You look way too smart for this shit.”

  Doyle nervously scratched his chin, “It’s what I’ve always wanted to do… I guess I just wanted to give something back to the City.”

  “Aww,” Lennox said, “ain’t that nice. He just wants to help the City. Well if I were you, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  He glanced in the direction of their home and the space-age buildings that stood guard over it,

  “The place is doing just fine without your help.”

  As Lennox talked, Taylor looked to Spike and without meaning to, rolled his eyes. The last thing he needed was a patriotic kid in his team with no clue of how things really worked.

  Rudy took another long drag from his cigarette, then spoke again, “So you enjoying your first patrol?”

  Doyle shrugged defensively, “Yeah, I suppose.”

  Rudy smiled as the smoke escaped from the gaps between his teeth, “Good. That’s real good to hear.”

  Taylor wondered where he was going with his questioning.

  “Tell me something,” he went on, “is this what you thought the Old-Town was going to be like?”

  Doyle went to speak, then paused, checking himself. He wasn’t sure if it was a test, and if it was, he wanted to say the right thing.

  “It’s different to what I expected,” he finally answered.

  “No shit, genius,” Lennox sniggered, before joining Skinner in raucous laughter. They sounded like a pair of over-muscled hyenas.

  “Shut up Lennox!” Rudy shouted, “Let him speak.”

  The laughter quickly died down leaving Doyle to continue. Lennox looked at Rudy like a dog that had been kicked by his master.

  “My dad used to talk about this place a lot when I was younger. He, I mean we, I can’t really remember it though, used to live on the outskirts before the depression.”

  Rudy looked genuinely interested, “The outskirts? He must have done alright for himself.”

  Doyle nodded, “Yeah, he did ok. That’s why we were able to move to the City, I think he saw what was coming and got us out early.”

  “Smart man,” Skinner observed.

  “One thing he always liked to talk about was how he would take my mother to the carnival every year.”

  “I used to love the carnival,” it was Spike who was now interrupting, “I’m telling you Doyle, you could eat like a king. Jerk chicken, rice and peas, goat curry…”

  Spike’s voice trailed off as he lost himself in thoughts of the cuisine he was describing. He looked like he was ready to start salivating.

  Doyle smiled at him, then continued, “He told me about the floats, the costumes the girls would wear…”

  “The girls, oohwee!” Spike snapped out of his daydream and shook his shoulders so his man-tits jiggled from side to side. They all laughed at this, even Taylor.

  “He made it sound so amazing, all the colours and the music…” Doyle paused again, searching for words, “I know it sounds insane but that’s what I kept expecting to see when we were walking through the streets today… Every corner we turned I was waiting to see the carnival.”

  When Doyle finished speaking, the group remained quiet. It was like each of them was rediscovering their own memories of the Old-Town.

  After a few seconds Rudy broke the silence,

  “Yeah,” he sighed, looking more human than Taylor had ever seen before, “that was a long time ago.”

  Taylor jumped up and loudly clapped his hands together, quickly snapping his men out of their pensive mood. He wanted them alert not walking around with their heads filled with memories. That was how people got hurt.

  “Come on then fellas, you’ve had plenty of time, we’re pushing on.”

  As the team got to their feet, Lennox suddenly bent over, clutching the back of his head.

  “Fuck!” he yelled out in pain.

  “What’s the problem Lennox?” Taylor asked.

  “Fuck,” Lennox said again, a little calmer, “I got hit by a rock. Those fucking ferals.”

  Taylor looked up at one of the rubble mounds, just in time to see one of the laughing urchins disappear out of sight. Lennox removed his hand and turned to show Taylor a small but nasty-looking bump on the top of his head. It reminded him of the old cartoon cat and mouse he used to watch on television when he was a kid.

  Rudy looked to Taylor with ‘I told you so’ written all over his face.

  “No sense, no feeling, right?” Spike said as he winked at his injured colleague.

  Lennox started towards him but quickly stopped to rub his head as the pain kicked in.

  “Why don’t you shut the hell up fat man? I’ve had enough of your shit today.”

  Rogers picked up his rifle and brushed passed Lennox, “Maybe you should keep your helmet on next time.”

  A loud crack of rifle fire pierced the air as Rogers’ body was lifted up and thrown backwards onto the ground with a dull thump. With the exception of his jaw and lower set of teeth, his face had been replaced by a bloody pulp of blood and gristle.

  “Get down!” Taylor screamed at the bemused faces surrounding him.

  As more shots rang out, the team did as commanded and dived behind the Rhino. Following them to safety, Taylor had just enough time to spot two men peering over the top of a large pile of rubble on the opposite side of the makeshift road. Judging from the noise and the massive damage that Rogers had sustained, he thought they were probably using a high-velocity sniper rifle. It was completely unnecessary; at that distance they could have hit him with a water-pistol.

  “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, realising the seriousness of the situation. They were sitting ducks.

  Taylor switched his attention to his men.

  “Is everyone alright?” he searched their faces for signs of injury as they nodded silently.

  “What about you Doyle?”

  “I’m good Sarge,” he replied, sounding frightened but calm.

  Taylor turned and eased his head out to try and see if their attackers had fled. A bullet bouncing off the Rhino, inches from his head quickly answered his question. He retracted to safe ground, landing on his ass with a painful thump. With a sigh of relief at not ending up like Rogers, he focused his mind on how they would get out of the stinking mess.

  “Ok,” he said, his voice full of authority, “this is how it is. There are two snipers on the mound at twelve o’clock.”

  He motioned straight ahead through the centre of the Rhino,

  “From that position they’ve got us pinned down pretty good. What we’re going to need is some heavy fire power to shift them.”

  As he spoke, Taylor thought it was strange how he seemed to do his clearest thinking in highly stressful situations like this.

  “Rudy, Lennox, you’re going to take the front of the vehicle, me and Doyle will take the rear. On my command, we’re going to lay down enough fire power for Skinner to get up to the fifty-cal and do what he does best.”

  Skinner shot Taylor a concerned look.

  “Don’t worry, they won’t get a chance to take a shot. We’ll hit them with everything we’ve got first.”

  Skinner smiled nervous
ly, “No problem Sarge.”

  When the men had taken up their appropriate positions, Taylor gave them a nod.

  “Ready,” he said, “and fire.”

  It wasn’t until he had unloaded half a clip that he finally got his eye in on the shooter’s whereabouts. In the lull, they had moved maybe twenty yards to the east to try to attack them from the flanks of the vehicle. The snipers managed to initially get off one or two wide shots but the covering fire had been so sustained they could do little but stay behind the relative safety of the rubble mountain.

  Taylor was impressed that Doyle’s shooting had been controlled, firing in short bursts, as he would have been instructed in basic training.

  “I’m ready Sarge,” he heard Skinner say over the sound of guns.

  “Then you know what to do.”

  A second later, the area had descended into silence.

  Now that the team had stopped firing, all they could do was wait for the counter-attack. Taylor looked down at Doyle who was kneeling below him.

  “You ok?”

  Doyle nodded back.

  For nearly a minute, the stand-off continued. Taylor was about to step out from behind the Rhino when he heard Skinner whisper into his throat-mike,

  “Here we go.”

  He had spotted the barrel of the rifle appear over the mound before the sniper had even got in place. Skinner didn’t bother waiting for him to be in sight, knowing the power of his gun would destroy the top few feet of the mound as well as anything that lay behind it.

  The weapon kicked into life, spewing bullet after bullet at their enemy. Spent shells, still white hot, sprayed down over Taylor and Doyle, burning the bare skin on their arms. The impact of the bullets caused a landslide at the top of the mound, quickly revealing the sniper’s position.

  As Taylor left the safety of the Rhino he saw one of the snipers take a direct hit before rolling down the slope and out of sight.

  “Follow me!” he yelled.

  It felt like running on sand as he sprinted up the now considerably smaller rock pile. Every time he pushed off, his foot would sink a little further back towards the bottom of the slope. By the time he got to the top, his legs felt like they had acid flowing through them.

  Scanning the other side of the mound, Taylor got a brief glance of the injured man dragging himself into the doorway of what was left of a block of flats. Barely the ground floor and some of the first were still standing; the rest of the building had long been laid to rest. His partner was either already inside or had disappeared in another direction.

  “Spike get the Rhino round here now,” Taylor panted breathlessly, “they’re hiding in one of the buildings, we’re going to have to flush them out.”

  “No problem boss, I’ll be there as soon as I find a way round.”

  “And Skinner,”

  “Yes Sarge,”

  “Good shooting.”

  “Don’t thank me,” Skinner replied, “thank Vicky.”

  Chapter 4

  As he waited for the others to reach him, Taylor used the sights of his rifle to scope the windows of the building. There was no sign of them; they’d probably dug themselves in at the rear or gone down to the basement if there was one. From the amount of blood that led up to the door, Taylor judged that the injured man must have been in a pretty bad way.

  It was Doyle who appeared next to him first, quickly followed by Rudy. Lennox however, he heard long before he saw him; each wheezing breath he took echoed through the stone valley. When he finally reached the top of the mound it was all Lennox could do to stay on his feet.

  Before he had a chance to rest, Taylor lifted him from his doubled over position and directed him at the house.

  “Rudy, take Lennox to the rear of the building and try and find a way in. They’ll be sitting pretty tight so we’ll have to squeeze them out.”

  Rudy nodded and grabbed Lennox’s other shoulder, taking him off Taylor’s hands.

  “Let’s go,” he said to the panting hulk, who looked distraught at the idea of more physical exertion.

  “Spike, how you doing?” Taylor asked.

  “Not good, there’s no quick way to get to you, I tried going over the top but it’s too steep. We’re going to have to go all the way around.”

  Taylor resisted the urge to yell into his throat-mike, “Just get here as quick as you can.”

  The five-minute excursion would give the snipers enough time to dig themselves in and prepare for an attack. There was also the risk that they had friends nearby, and were not the only people in the area that wanted to him and his men. They would have to go in without the Rhino’s firepower to assist them.

  They approached the building as cautiously as possible, their rifles scanning every possible attack point. Taylor didn’t like situations like this; they made him nervous. Although he and his men outnumbered their attackers, it was they who were in the stronger position and if they were sensible they should know it too. They were in a place of safety and would be happy to sit and do nothing. If Taylor wanted them on the other hand, he would have to go in and get them.

  “Sarge,” Rudy’s voice rang into his ear-piece, “no luck here, we found a doorway but it’s completely blocked by debris.”

  “Shit,” Taylor muttered, knowing that without a two-pronged attack, things were looking even more in their assailant’s favour.

  “Get back here then Rudy, looks like it’s gonna be a frontal assault.”

  Rudy’s message had made him pause for a second and rethink his strategy. As he weighed up his options, he didn’t notice the injured man step into the doorway. His rifle was aimed directly at Taylor.

  “Sarge, look out!” Doyle yelled.

  He turned in time to see the man take a burst of shots to his right side, spinning him onto the wall of the building. Even though his injuries were mortal, the man still tried to right himself and re-aim his weapon but Taylor had already released a burst of fire from his own rifle, hitting the enemy square in the chest and dropping him to his knees. The man, who Taylor could now see was well over fifty, gave him a quizzical look like he had no idea how come such a shitty thing was happening to him. Before collapsing onto his face, he let out a strangled sigh that may have been an attempt to ask why.

  Taylor glanced at Doyle, whose rifle now hung idly by his side. He tried to think of something to say but the look they shared said it all; yes, you did just save my life, and yes, killing does get easier.

  He broke from Doyle’s stare to pull the pin from the grenade he was holding and throw it deep into the building.

  “If I were you,” he said, “I’d get down.”

  With smoke still burning their eyes, they stepped over the debris into the entrance of the building. Turning off the narrow corridor, Taylor and Doyle ventured into the first apartment on their right, the force of the blast having blown the door of the unit clean off. Lennox and Rudy were doing the same thing to the apartments on the left. They were easy to search as there was nothing left in the rooms. With no wardrobes for the enemy to climb in or beds to hide behind, they were nothing but empty carcasses.

  After quickly going through the first of the tiny areas they met back up with the others in the hallway.

  Rudy shook his head at Taylor, “It’s clean.”

  As Taylor and Doyle entered the second apartment, a sustained roar of gunfire ripped from the area Rudy and Lennox had just entered. As Taylor retreated back to the corridor, he saw Lennox lying on his back with Rudy on top of him. They looked like two beetles that had been flipped over as they were involved in the act of copulation.

  From underneath Rudy, Lennox pointed to the door,

  “He’s in there.”

  Taylor remembered what Lennox had said to Doyle earlier and was tempted to quote him: ‘No shit, genius.’

  Rudy pushed himself off Lennox and released one of his grenades from its housing.

  “Shall I clean it out?” he asked hopefully.

  Taylor shook
his head,

  “We need this one for questioning. See if we can find out who they are and what the hell they’re up to.”

  Disappointed, Rudy clipped up his grenade.

  With his back against the wall of the apartment (the walls were concrete so he knew he was safe), Taylor reached forward and using his fingertips, gently pushed the door open. The response was a hail of bullets that careered into the opposite wall of the corridor.

  “Listen to me,” he shouted inside, “you’re surrounded with no way out. Give yourself up now and we can avoid anymore unpleasantness.”

  Rudy shook his head in disbelief, “Unpleasantness. The fucker just blew Rogers’ head off.”

  There was no answer.

  Taylor persisted, “If you come out now you will not be harmed, I promise you.”

  Again he was greeted by silence.

  “Come on Sarge, this ain’t gonna work. Why don’t you let me deal with this,” Rudy again nodded towards his grenades.

  Another sustained pause was interrupted by a rattling sound from inside the room. Before they could work out what the noise was, a sniper rifle slid through the door before bumping into the wall. Seconds later it was followed by a handgun and spare magazines.

  Taylor smiled at Rudy; “Sometimes you’ve just got to ask nicely.”

  When he entered the apartment, Taylor’s first thought was that he’d been double-crossed with an ingenious piece of deception. Instead of a grizzled veteran of the troubles, he was greeted by the sight of a scared young girl no older than Doyle. She was hugging a filthy blanket that covered her tiny body. The girl had pushed herself as far into the corner of the room as she possibly could; anymore and she would have been climbing the walls. Her right hand was nervously playing with the ends of one of her blonde pigtails and as Taylor approached, she placed the hair into the corner of her mouth.

  He slung his rifle onto his back and opened his empty hands to show his intentions,

  “I meant what I said, we’re not going to hurt you.”

  The girl stared back at him. She was trying not to betray her emotions but the fear, and more dominantly, the anger emanating from her was impossible to ignore.