by Thomas Hall
“How?” Joanna said. “I mean, how did you communicate with anyone up here? How did you even know they were here?”
“There have always been people here,” Samuel said.
“The Resistance, you mean?” Joanna said.
Ivan and his family were now sitting on the chairs on the other side of the room.
“Are they Resistance?” she said.
Samuel shook his head. “Not quite. There are other people on the surface.”
“Why?” she said.
“Because they’re idiots,” Victoria said.
“They aren’t idiots Victoria,” Samuel said. “They want to help but they don’t want to fight.”
“Why not?” Victoria said. It sounded like a challenge.
“Ivan has a family to protect, he does what he can. We all do what we can, don’t we?”
No one replied.
“Look, the bottom line is, we’re here now and we’re safe. You all need to get some rest, we’ll be leaving as soon as it’s dark.”
They seemed reluctant to move.
Brett yawned. As they got closer to the middle of the city, they would face greater challenges. He’d learned the skill of sleeping in the most uncomfortable of situations. Five minutes of shut eye on a concrete floor could mean the difference between life and death. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get some rest.
He found a sleeping bag in the pile and laid it out on the floor. It wasn’t a fresh bed in a luxury hotel, but it beat the hell out of another night on a cold concrete floor in a tunnel. He heard the others starting to talk but closed his eyes and ignored them. He was asleep in a few seconds.
When they woke, Mary made them a breakfast of tinned beans and homemade bread. She apologised that there was no butter or ketchup, but it was still the best thing Brett had eaten for months. The beans were even hot!
The mood in the group brightened. Whatever they had spoken about after Brett had gone to sleep had cleared the air. He listened to them talking, but didn’t join in. Better to enjoy the luxury of warmth and food because soon enough he wouldn’t even have that.
When it came time to leave, Mary handed each of them three plastic boxes. The kind used for Chinese takeaways before the war. Each one was full of dry food, which would last them a couple of days.
CHAPTER 9
THEY WALKED THROUGH THE DUSTY RUINS OF HOUSES and cars. It was no longer possible to tell one from the other. Brett was the first to smell the smoke but the others noticed it soon afterwards. They slowed. He wondered if it would soon be time to test the ancient Blasters.
They didn’t speak.
Samuel led the way and Brett hung a few steps behind him.
The smoke was coming from an old petrol station. There was little left of the structure, but a few of the pumps remained.
Samuel stopped and they all stopped behind him. “What do you think?” he said.
“It could be recent,” Brett said. “Signs of a fight?”
“Could be,” Samuel said.
“We should go a different route. It might blow.”
“If it was going to, wouldn’t it have?”
Brett shook his head. He didn’t know.
“We’ll keep going,” Samuel said. “This is the quickest route. It’s better than having to spend an extra night out here.”
There was no argument from Brett on that score. Samuel hadn’t told them how long it would take to reach the pharmacy. Based on his own estimates, it would be several days there and back.
“Okay,” Brett said. He took out his Blaster and checked the charge. “Let’s get on with it then.”
88The ground seemed to tremble as they walked past the column of smoke. Brett’s eyes began to water and he raised a hand to shield them. He kept scanning for signs of movement that would mean Machines were nearby. If there had been a fight then there would be corpses. Even a dying Droid remained connected to the Nexus and could report their location. He saw nothing, but it did little to ease the knot of angst growing in his stomach.
Something wasn’t right.
They reached the end of the street and something glinted in the moonlight.
Brett grabbed Samuel’s arm and pulled him back.
Samuel staggered. He turned to tell Brett off, but before he could get a word out, the first explosion turned the pavement into a crater.
Brett raised his Blaster, and squeezed off three pulses in the Droid’s direction. There was no sign of it now, but he acted on an instinct honed by years in the field.
“Get back,” he hissed to the others. He didn’t turn around to look. He could feel them gathering around him and getting ready to do more harm than good.
He heard Samuel talking to them, moving them away. Then he saw the shiny metal head of the Droid that had attacked them. It had taken cover behind the bricks and rubble.
Brett squeezed off another shot but it had no effect.
He waited, counting his heartbeats until they returned to normal.
“Wait here,” he said, through gritted teeth.
“Like hell we will,” Victoria said.
“Yeah,” Richard added, although Brett could hear the fear in his voice. “You don’t get to tell us what to do.”
He could have argued with them. Samuel would have backed him up. Instead he shrugged and started moving. If they followed him to their deaths then that was their mistake.
Brett kept his eyes fixed on the metal pate of the Machine’s skull. The human form was far from optimal for fighting, but the Machine’s had adopted it for their Droids. Brett was sure it was meant as an insult. The chrome skeletons mocked the humans who fought them. Look at us, they seemed to say, we can even make better versions of you.
The rocks slid over one another as he walked on them. When he reached the top of the pile, Brett looked over.
There was nothing there except the skull plate. The rest of the Droid was gone.
He looked up and scanned the area for movement, but saw nothing.
Until he did.
The Machine was behind them, its arm raised.
The blast from its arm cannon was silent. A flash of light and then the wave of heat. It was a new weapon. Brett hadn’t encountered it before.
He threw himself over the top of the rubble and landed hard on the uneven surface.
He felt the bricks and metal shake as the shockwave hit.
A second blast followed and a third. Each time the shock wave hit, the mound that he was hiding behind became less stable.
Brett counted three more blasts and then scrambled to the top of the shifting rubbish.
There was no sign of the others. He hoped that meant they had gotten to safety, not obliterated by the pulse weapon. Either way, now was not the time to find out. He kept low, took aim at the Droid and fired.
The first two shots sent it wheeling backwards, arms in the air as it struggled to remain upright. Brett fired again and the Droid shot its own weapon into the sky.
The Droid managed to correct its balance. It turned towards him, shifting itself and raising another weapon.
Brett had time to wonder at the fact that it appeared to be on its own. Then the night became day as the Machine opened fire on him.
He ducked back down behind the pile, shielding his eyes from the incredible light. He could feel the atoms around him vibrate and wondered how long it would be before his body tore itself apart. It seemed impossible that the Machines had developed a weapon like this in so short of a time. How could humanity ever hope to fight back against it?
The bricks and metal began to melt around him. He realised that if he didn’t get away soon, he would be exposed to the Droid and its terrible weapon.
He forced himself to crouch and move backwards, away from the blast which felt like pure energy. Brett didn’t stop, didn’t turn around to shoot back. The others were on their own.
Ahead of him there were some buildings. The sides had been torn off, revealing a web of pipework and electr
ical cables that looked like veins. He headed towards the nearest one and reached it as the darkness once again consumed him.
He fell against the wall, not realising that he was panting for breath until his heart slowed down.
He needed to get away.
He needed to find out whether Samuel and the others were still alive.
The two responsibilities warred inside him, but he didn’t have time to reach a decision. He heard the mechanical voice of the Droid speaking to him from the other side of the wall.
“DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND RAISE YOUR HANDS,” it said.
For a moment, Brett was too confused to do anything.
“DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND RAISE YOUR HANDS,” it said again. “THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING.”
What kind of Droid gave warnings? Brett wondered. He might have asked, but he recognised the futility of his situation.
Brett dropped his weapon and raised his hands. He started to move towards the mechanical voice. Before he could get there, five Blasters opened fire.
He couldn’t see which direction they were coming from, but he didn’t waste the opportunity. He grabbed his own weapon from the ground and joined them.
The Droid rocked back and forth under the repeated blasts of pulse energy. It had shields, or else it would have fallen immediately. But even though it remained standing, it was unable to shoot back.
They continued to fire and the Droid continued to stand there taking it. Brett glanced at the green panel on the back of his Blaster and saw that he was down to fifty-percent. The others might have more, but they were all shooting at the same time. He guessed that gave them less than three minutes before they were out of power.
The Droid showed no sign of falling apart. Its metal grin seemed to say that it was content to wait until they had finished their futile attempt to destroy it. When their weapons ran out, it would deal with them in its own way.
They needed to get away from the Machine.
He spotted Victoria and Richard crouching beside a low wall, but there was no sign of the others. He guessed (hoped) that they were all together.
Brett squeezed the trigger of his Blaster for a final time and then cut off the power. He glanced at the display and saw that he was down to twenty-three percent. It would recharge whilst he was moving, but not quickly without a power supply. He shook his head and started running.
The other buildings in the area were rubble and it was difficult to move. The ground shifted like sand beneath his boots until it didn’t. His toe kicked something and it stuck. He tumbled forwards and only managed to stay upright through sheer force of will. He righted himself and kept going.
Their weapons had to be running low on power. The Droid was starting to move again. Even as the electro-magnetic pulses from the Blasters racked its body. It didn’t get far, but it was only a matter of time before the weapons stopped. He hoped they knew to stop shooting before they ran out of power completely. If that happened then they wouldn’t self-charge at all and would be useless, no matter how long they waited.
He skidded to a stop and fell next to them. Neither of them looked at him.
“We’ve got to go,” Brett said. “Where’s Samuel?”
Richard and Victoria ignored him.
He grabbed Victoria’s shoulder. “Where are they?”
She didn’t speak, but she nodded to her right.
Brett tried to see them, but they were either well-hidden or no longer there.
He glanced at Victoria’s Blaster and saw that she was down to fourteen percent. There wasn’t time to go searching for Samuel and the others and get back. If they were all down to a similar power level then they would run out before he returned. Then the Droid would be able to pick them off one at a time, or all at once if the mood struck it.
It was a gamble to shout. Even though he couldn’t hear Buzzards, it didn’t mean they weren’t there. If the Droids had received as significant upgrade as this one, then it was likely that the Buzzards had as well.
“Sam, we’ve got to go. Follow me!” he shouted.
He couldn’t bring himself to repeat the message. Brett took a final look at the Droid and then started to run.
The air vibrated as the Droid fired at them. Brett was sure that each step would be his last, that his body would evaporate before his foot next hit the ground.
When he reached a building which was intact, he turned and waited for the others to catch up. He saw them barrelling through the street, taking blind shots at the Droid as it came after them.
Richard was the first to arrive, followed by Victoria, Joanna and then Lisa. Samuel was last.
“Where is it?” Samuel panted.
Victoria went to the corner and looked around. She seemed to move in slow motion.
Brett held his breath, certain that he was about to see the slow-moving girl evaporate.
“I can’t see it,” she said, ducking back around and shaking her head.
“What do you mean you can’t see it?” Richard said. He pushed her out of the way and went to see for himself.
He was quicker that Victoria, and Brett had more reason to dislike him, but he didn’t want to see anyone get killed. In his mind, the mission would be a failure if even one of them died. What was the point of risking their lives to save someone, if the cost was greater than the reward?
“She’s right,” Richard said. “It’s gone.”
They might have stayed there all night. Each taking a turn to stand at the corner and stare at the place where the Droid had been.
Brett grabbed Samiel. “We need to go,” he whispered. “We’re not safe here.”
Samuel nodded but didn’t speak.
“We’re moving on,” Brett said so that the rest of the group could hear. He expected them to refuse, but none of them did. They came and stood in front of him as if they’d realised that he had all the answers. It took him a moment to adjust to the change of attitude, although he knew it was likely to be temporary. “This way.”
They moved between the broken buildings. Stopping every few hundred metres to make sure the Machines weren’t following them. Not even Richard questioned his orders.
It was slow going, over difficult terrain. They moved as if their lives depended on it and it wasn’t until the sun began to rise that they slowed.
“We need to get to Bakerloo,” Samuel said.
It wasn’t light enough to see well, but it would be soon. “How far is it?” Brett said.
Samuel shook his head.
“Well which direction is it?”
Samuel shook his head again.
Brett fought the urge to shout at him. Instead he spoke through gritted teeth. “How are we supposed to get to it then?”
“It’s the plan,” Samuel said, as if that explained everything. For all they knew though, they had been walking in the wrong direction for half the night. It might take hours to even work out where they were.
“We’ll find somewhere else,” Brett said.
“Where?”
“We’ll know when we find it,” he said and then started moving. Samuel fell away behind him.
They skulked through the shadows behind the old church. The sun was soon bright enough for Brett to feel it burning his neck.
The windows were boarded up and there was no sign that anyone had been there for months. The grass and gravestones were blackened with ancient fire. Every door they tried was locked.
Brett pulled the handle of a service entrance, but the heavy wood didn’t shift.
“We’ll have to break it down,” Richard whispered.
Brett nodded, trying not to think about the sound it would make and who might be listening.
They spent a few minutes looking around for something to use as a battering ram, but found nothing.
“We can’t stay out here,” Victoria said.
Brett agreed, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do. He felt as if he could lie down in the long grass and sleep for a year.
Joann
a came towards him with her head bowed.
“Can I try something?” she said, without looking at him.
Brett nodded and let her past. He didn’t have the energy to stop her.
She knelt on the stone step in front of the door and took something out of her hair which then fell over her shoulders. Brett watched her lean towards the key hole and put something inside. He realised what she was trying to do. “Can you pick locks?”
Joanna shrugged, but his question had attracted the attention of the others. They crept forwards and watched her.
After a few minutes Brett heard something click. Joanna reached for the door handle, turned it and the door swung inwards.
There was no celebration, but as he walked past her, Brett saw the look of satisfaction on her face.
Inside, the church wasn’t damaged. The ancient stone walls were solid enough to stop most projectile weapons. With the windows boarded up, it was as dark as night.
None of them spoke. They made their way through the hallowed passages, looking for somewhere comfortable to spend the day.
Brett stopped watching them and grabbed a couple of long cushions from the pews. He threw them down on the ground and climbed on top. He knew that the correct procedure was to check the building and make sure it wasn’t already occupied. But based on the difficulty they’d had getting in, that didn’t seem likely. He heard the others muttering amongst themselves but tuned them out. His position within the group had returned to what it had always been.
Sleep didn’t take long to find him in the cold, dark church.
CHAPTER 10
BRETT OPENED HIS EYES IN DARKNESS AND COULDN’T remember where he was. The events of the last forty-eight hours returned to him slowly. He sat up and saw Richard sitting on a pew looking at him.
“What’s going on?” Brett said, alert to a threat.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Richard said.
He waited for Richard to continue and explain what he was talking about, but he didn’t say anything. Brett pushed himself up. “What are you talking about?”
“You tell me Brett, if that’s even your name.”