Robot Wars: Thrown Into the Fray

by Nicholas Haring

  “Thompson, I need you grab some ammo for Kazir. We should’ve gotten an ammo dump by now. Hurry!” Fischer ordered as Thompson ran out the bunker, brushing past Brookes as he exited.

  “Captain Fischer!” Brookes yelled trying to get Fischer’s attention. “Captain Fischer, do you know where Hartford is?”

  “Damn it, what are you doing here, Lieutenant?” Fischer asked as he kept firing out of the slit.

  “I need to find Hartford. I need fire orders. My radio …”

  “We’re being jammed, Lieutenant. The damn robots knocked out our communications. I sent Ellerby to run fire orders for Hartford,” Fischer said and then ducked when a plasma blast struck close to the front of the bunker. “Is he not there?”

  “I never saw him. I have Samson firing the mortar, but just a kilometer down range,”

  “Shit. Okay, Kazir, I’m going to go with Brookes, and talk with Hartford and find out what in the hell happened with Ellerby,” Fischer said as Kazir stopped shooting and ducked beneath the firing slit. “I’m going to send in Martin until Thompson gets back, okay?”

  Kazir nodded and then went back to firing short bursts. Fischer motioned to Brookes and the two exited the bunker.

  *****

  Fischer and Brookes came up behind Hartford who was firing her laser rifle. Sanchez and Porter were to her left; Sanchez on his AR launcher was scanning for appropriate targets, while Porter was ready with a spare missile to reload him after he fired.

  “Hartford, did you see Ellerby?” Fischer asked as a blast of enemy laser fire sent Hartford ducking. Kneeling on the firing step she turned to face Fischer and Brookes.

  “The small, chubby, antsy guy? Yeah, he came by. I gave him some fire orders about - five minutes ago, to give to you, Brookes. I’m guessing you haven’t seen him then,” Hartford said.

  “Get down, firing!” Sanchez yelled, as everyone took cover from the back blast of his AR launcher as it fired. “Direct hit! One Three down! All right, Porter, load me up another!”

  “What targets do you need hit, Hartford?” Brookes asked.

  “If you could keep fire on that hole in the snag wire at grid Whiskey-Echo-Seven-Two for right now, we’ve got plenty of Bravos pouring across through there,” Hartford said.

  Brookes nodded and turned to leave with Fischer.

  “But, Brookes, you really should’ve kept your mortar firing. I haven’t seen or heard a single shot from it, in about ten minutes -- or at least not since that big explosion by that laser tower anyway,” Hartford said; she then stood up and started firing out of the trench.

  “Come on, Brookes, follow me back. I’ve got to check on Jones and see about our comms situation,” Fischer said as the two headed back towards the main access trench just as Sanchez was firing another missile.

  *****

  Fischer and Brookes got to the junction of the mortar pit access trench and the hideaway bunker. Fischer was just about to head down the stairs and Brookes was about to round the corner when Ellerby quickly came around the corner from the mortar pit’s trench and bumped into Brookes and staggered backwards.

  He looked pale, as though he had just thrown up and was covering his mouth as he might do so again. Fischer stopped and looked at Ellerby as Brookes steadied him.

  “Are you feeling all right, Ellerby? What happened?” Brookes asked.

  Ellerby shook his head, ran a little ways past Brookes, fell to his knees, and then threw up.

  Oh no, Samson! Brookes thought as she started to run to the mortar pit. Fischer grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around to stop her.

  “Don’t. Trust me. Don’t,” Fischer said, his eyes told her that he had seen it all before.

  Brookes nodded slowly as Fischer yelled out for Cross. Cross came by and knew almost instinctively what had happened as she headed straight for the mortar pit. She came back several minutes later with the charred remains of what was left of Brookes’ and Samson’s packs.

  “I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” Cross said as she handed the packs to Brookes and then gave Samson’s dog-tags to Fischer as she left for the bunker.

  Fischer patted Brookes on the shoulder and then headed into the bunker just behind Cross. A moment later, Brookes could hear Fischer arguing loudly with Jones over the noise of the battle around her. All the sounds faded away as she dropped her pack and dug through Samson’s.

  Mostly everything was charred beyond recognition. Inside she found what was left of Samson’s wallet. She grabbed it out of the pack; something fell out of it and landed on to the ground. She picked it up and turned it over. It was a partially burnt photo of Samson and his dad. The two smiling; in a seemingly happier time; Samson’s father with his arm around his son’s shoulders, as they sat at a red picnic table in a nice, tree filled park.

  She stared blankly at it for a minute or two, but the foghorn snapped her out of it as she looked to her left and saw a Mark Four less than a kilometer away, firing its laser cannons off to the right. She quickly put the picture in her breast pocket and ran to the frontline trench.

  Chapter 33

  A massive explosion to Lander’s left knocked him and Akiyama to the floor of the observation tower. Lander quickly picked himself up and looked to where the explosion came from. He couldn’t see much, just a billow of smoke obscuring the mortar pit and the laser tower.

  “Lander, 3 o’clock on your right, Mark Ones in the snag wire!” Akiyama yelled as she fired another shot from her sniper rifle.

  Lander took aim at the five hapless robots tangled up in the wire, and emptied a clip and a half into them, until they stopped moving.

  He hadn’t used the spotter scope since the attack this morning started. Akiyama kept him on task, however, with shooting the robots getting too close to the snag wire. She was focusing on the Mark Twos, until the Fours got in range.

  Lander watched as she fired another shot and saw another Two’s head explode into sparks and bits of metal.

  “Nice shot,” Lander said as Akiyama fired another.

  It was getting brighter out now as the sun was coming up. There was still overcast, however, but it was getting easier to see most of the battlefield.

  In front of them was just an innumerable mass of robots; the seven Fours spread out among the horde looked as if they were wading through a metallic sea. Flashes of fire from the Threes were closely followed by the sound of incoming shells and explosions. Lander could see their situation was almost untenable as it stood now.

  “Why don’t we use that Mark Four we’ve captured or issue the stop codes already?” Lander asked as the sight of all of these machines was unnerving him greatly.

  “I don’t know, Lander. We need to focus on the task at hand,” Akiyama said as though she had seen this all before.

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Look to your 3 o’clock, Lander, more Ones incoming!” Akiyama said loudly with a hint of frustration.

  Lander had to keep focused on his task; he was slipping, but he had too many questions. Lander shot-up the three Ones that had stumbled over the snag wire. There was now a small hole on their side and the robots seemed to have found it.

  “Lander, give me your rifle,” Akiyama demanded.

  “Why?”

  “I’m running low on ammo and I need to save what I have left for the Fours when they get in range. Run down to the supply drop area, see if they’ve dropped off some more ammo for me, and bring it back here. We should’ve had a supply drop by now.”

  “Do you know for sure they’ve dropped off more ammo?”

  “No.”

  “No? Can’t you call up Captain …?”

  “Comms are down, Lander, but we were scheduled for a supply drop about fifteen minutes ago. I’ll stay here and watch the line. I’m a better shot than you anyway,” Akiyama said as she grabbed Lander’s rifle and handed him her laser pistol. “Here. Take this, just in case.”

  “All right, I’ll be back soon,” Lander said as he tucked the pistol into his be
lt. He took a quick glance out and then hurried down the tower stairs.

  Lander opened the exit that led into the hideaway bunker and saw Jones frantically working on his R-99 unit.

  “These are the best jamming filters they said -- un-jammable they said,” Jones said as he was talking to himself in frustration.

  “Jones!” Lander shouted to get his attention.

  Jones spun around quickly; he had a bottle of whiskey in his right hand; he looked as though he had drunk half of it already.

  “Ahh… Sergeant Lander, have you been having fun spending time with the girl I love?” Jones asked and then hiccupped at the end.

  “What? What the hell are you talking about, Jones? Have you been drinking?” Lander asked as he snatched the bottle out of Jones’ hand.

  “Go on, have a drink, Lander, on the house! I found it in a locker after the comms went down. We have no stop codes, the Four I captured isn’t responding to commands, and to top all of that, the woman I love -- rejected me. We’re all doomed,” Jones exclaimed as he threw his arms in the air.

  “You’re drunk and out of your mind, Jones!” Lander said as he threw the bottle of whiskey up against the wall behind him, shattering it.

  “Aww… why did you go and do that for? They don’t make that brand anymore, you know?” Jones said as he spun around and sulked over his PCC.

  Lander didn’t have time for Jones’ drunkenness. He figured Fischer would come by soon enough and deal with him. He had to get to the supply drop and fast before Akiyama was out of ammo or worse, before the Mark Fours got too close.

  *****

  Lander reached the supply drop area, but there didn’t seem to be any supplies dropped off. There was just the stuff they didn’t pick up from last night scattered around. The school bus was still there, but there was a light emanating from the driver seat. It looked as though someone was inside. Lander drew his pistol and cautiously made his way to the bus.

  Lander stood on his tip-toes and peaked inside. There was definitely someone inside the bus. It looked like they were trying to hot-wire it. He walked along the side of it to the door. He took a deep breath and then slammed open the door with his pistol drawn.

  “Freeze!” Lander yelled as the person in the seat popped their head up.

  “Oh shit, Chet, you scared the shit out of me. Actually, you’re just the man I was hoping to see,” Thompson said.

  “What are you doing, Paul?” Lander asked, and then lowered his pistol.

  “I’m taking the bus, Chet,” Thompson said frankly.

  “Why the fuck are you taking the bus, Paul?” Lander asked.

  “Why? Because look around you, Chet. The shit is hitting the fan and I for one am not going to stick around here and become a statistic,” Thompson went back to trying to hot-wire the bus.

  “Why are you even out here in the first place?” Lander asked.

  “I could say the same for you. You were probably going to try to steal the bus first, and now you’re playing innocent, right?” Thompson said half-jokingly. “To tell you the truth, the great man himself sent me out here to gather ammo for that brutes’ weapon; he’s almost out of it by the way. I ran down the trench and heard their tech guy throwing a fit. The man was drunk and ranting about how we’re all doomed. He told me we don’t have the stop codes, that the Four we captured isn’t working, and that High Command has abandoned us. Hell, I thought he was crazy too; at first, but it all made sense once I got here and saw there were no supplies waiting for us. Why would they waste them on us? We’re expendable.”

  “We’re not doomed; Paul and we’re not expendable. You were listening to a drunk man who’s probably halfway to being a section-eight,” Lander said.

  “He’s not crazy, he’s just realistic. Any minute now the Reg positions are going to collapse. It’s going to be a rout, with everyone running for their lives, Chet. I’m just going to be ahead of them - that’s all,” Thompson said as he got the engine started. “Ah-ha, here we go!”

  “Where in the hell do you hope to get to? There are MPs crawling all over the place between here and town. Not to mention they have checkpoints on the bridges and all of the roads leading north,” Lander said.

  “Please, Chet; the MPs aren’t going to stop me. They’re probably more aware that everything is falling apart more than we are. I’m going to take this bus, drive to the shelter, and grab my family and yours. Chet, come with me. Carly needs a father and Deb needs you now more than ever,” Thompson said as he extended out his hand to help Lander into the bus.

  Lander stood there and thought about it for a split-second. Just a couple a days ago he would’ve jumped-in without question, but he looked back and saw the chaos behind him. That there were people back there that were counting on him, just like they were counting on him in town.

  Lander knew if he stayed he was almost certain to die, but if he left with Thompson he might be able to save his family, but they would be deserters living as fugitives. Lander shook his head and raised the pistol at Thompson.

  “I can’t allow you to take this bus, Paul!” Lander said as he pointed the gun at Thompson’s head.

  “You going to shoot me, Chet? I’m giving you a chance to live, to see your daughter, your wife, and you’re going to shoot me?” Thompson asked as he was taken aback by Lander.

  “You’re not taking this bus, Paul. We need it when we have to retreat to the second line. Now, step out of the bus!” Lander ordered as he cocked the charging hammer on the pistol.

  “Retreat? Ha! What did I tell you? There are no stop codes! Hell, the robots are already through most of the snag wire as it is. It’s too late to retreat. There won’t be a second stand south of town. If anything I bet General Williams has already pulled everyone back across the river! They’re sacrificing us, to buy themselves some time. They’re trying to save themselves. How am I doing anything they’re not doing?” Thompson said, and then put the bus in gear. “Last chance, Chet. What’s it going to be?”

  Lander’s hands were shaking as he pointed the pistol at Thompson. He could hear the chaos behind him and the horrible sounds from the Mark Fours. He couldn’t shoot his best friend, could he? He stared at Thompson; the man was determined and no more talking was going to get out of the driver’s seat.

  The finger on the trigger wasn’t moving he tried to squeeze it down, but it felt like he had no muscle control over it. He lowered his gun. He couldn’t shoot his friend.

  “Glad, you saw it my way, Chet. Now, come on,” Thompson said; once again extending out his hand to Lander.

  “I’m not going, Paul,” Lander said as he put the pistol away. “Get out of here. Find Carly and Deb; keep them safe.”

  Lander turned and ran back to the trench.

  “Don’t be a fool, Chet!” Thompson yelled out, but Lander kept running.

  Lander heard the bus drive away and Lander looked back as it headed north, down the road. Lander turned around and looked at the horrors in front of him. The Mark Fours were getting close and some of the threes were already in places down the line using their flamethrowers.

  Shit! What in the hell am I thinking? Lander jumped down into the trench and ran back to the observation tower.

  Chapter 34

  Fischer entered the hideaway bunker and could immediately smell alcohol. Cross was hovering over Jones who looked as though he were drunk.

  “What’s going on here?” Fischer asked.

  “Jones is …”

  “Is drunk, Captain!” Jones blurted out loudly, interrupting Cross.

  “Cross, get him something to sober him up,” Fischer said as Cross dug through her medical supply bag.

  “I have some -- stuff right here, but it might take awhile, his blood alcohol level is -- point zero nine, going on ten. So it might take about fifteen to twenty minutes for him to fully sober up,” Cross said as she pricked Jones in his left arm with a needle.

  Cross moved out of the way as Fischer spun Jones around in his chair to f
ace him.

  “Jones, why in the hell did you get drunk?” Fischer yelled; he couldn’t believe this kind of behavior, especially from Jones.

  “Because it helps, sir,” Jones said; his breath was heavy with the smell of the whiskey that covered the wall behind Fischer.

  “Damn it, Jones, how does getting drunk help? You’re putting all of our lives in danger!” Fischer yelled.

  “I’m putting them in danger? I thought the robots had something to do with that, sir,” Jones said pedantically. “It doesn’t matter anyway, comms are down, stop codes are invalid, and our damn Mark Four is stuck in some kind of standby mode.”

  “The Four we captured isn’t working?” Fischer asked as he glanced at Jones’ PCC. It was flashing “Stand By” in red lettering. “You can’t re-activate it?”

  “No, I can’t do anything with it. I can’t shut it down and restart it, because it’ll just revert back to its original murder-bot form. I can’t give it any new commands either, because I no longer have the correct codes for it. The thing is stuck in limbo, but at least it won’t kill us, but then again it won’t stop the others from doing that though,” Jones said; he looked to be sobering up just a tad.

  Fischer wasn’t sure what to do now. He was counting on the Mark Four to act as a distraction, while they retreated. He couldn’t retreat now, not at least before the Regs did, but he wasn’t sure when Colonel McGregor or Purcell would pull their forces back, but for all Fischer knew they could be dead by now. He was sure the comms situation was hitting them the hardest. They had more units to coordinate with. It would only be a matter of time before the individual units started to break and make a run for it, if they weren’t doing that already.

  “Just focus on sobering up, Jones,” Fischer said in disgust.

  “Aye-aye, Cap’n!” Jones said as he drunkenly saluted.

  Just then Lander came down the stairs to the bunker he looked a little surprised to see Fischer here, but then he glanced at Jones and smirked.

  “Why aren’t you up in the observation tower, Sergeant Lander?” Fischer asked.