Robot Wars: Thrown Into the Fray

by Nicholas Haring

  “Screw this; I’m getting out of here!” Riley exclaimed as he threw down his weapon, and ran out of the bunker.

  “Stop! Come back, Riley!” Brookes yelled-out, but Riley was gone before she could even get that out.

  It was just her and Porter, now, and Porter looked to be here only because she looked too petrified to leave.

  “Come on, Porter, we’ve got to keep shooting!” Brookes said as Porter hesitantly gave a hurried nod.

  The majority of the Regs were now across the bridges as the Red Hats began to follow in behind them. The rest of the 2nd Battalion was now falling back as well. The robots were now breaking through the sandbag lines; the Ones were within striking distance.

  “No, they’re getting overrun!” Brookes cried out.

  Suddenly, all of the robots stopped in place.

  “What the …?” Porter said as she looked to Brookes.

  After about thirty seconds the robots started up, and then headed straight into the river.

  “What the hell are they doing?” Porter asked.

  “I think we’re jamming their signals,” Brookes said, though she didn’t know for sure.

  Brookes heard a roar over-head, and looked up just in time to see a volley of rocket and laser fire. The Phaetons had arrived and were unleashing an amazing amount of destruction on the helpless robot army.

  The robots not being destroyed by the rockets and laser fire were falling head over heels into the river below.

  “Yes, I think we may have broken their backs!” Brookes yelled out in celebration.

  The remaining robots stopped again, turned around, and then began to fallback just as a group of three Phaetons landed on the southern banks close to Captain Fischer’s bunker. The middle Phaeton lowered its ramp and a squad of troops came rushing out the back, quickly setting up a perimeter. Brookes could see their commander going up to Fischer, and shaking his hand as they patted each other on the back.

  “Is it over?” Porter asked as she lowered her rifle.

  “I think so,” Brookes said as she lowered hers as well and looked around.

  Porter sighed in exhaustion and leaned on the right wall of the bunker.

  “Heh… I wish I had a cigarette, right now,” Porter said, cracking a smile of relief.

  It seemed so surreal to Brookes; everything was so in-control now, where just a few minutes ago it looked as though the whole thing were about to fall apart.

  “So, what squad was that?” Porter asked as the Phaetons began taking-off.

  Brookes spotted an insignia on the side of one of them as it flew by; it looked like a black boot.

  “I think that’s Commando Squad Twelve. I believe their nickname is ‘The Jackboots’,” Brookes said as she slumped in exhaustion against the left bunker wall.

  She took the detonator out of her right utility pocket and placed it away from her at arm’s length to her left; she didn’t even want to think about touching it now. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

  She cracked open her eyes when she heard someone running toward the bunker.

  “Whew… are you two all right?” Rhodes asked as he entered the bunker.

  “We’re fine, sir. So is it over?” Brookes asked as she looked up to Rhodes.

  “Over? Here? Sort of. Comms are coming back and the robots are retreating to the south, for now,” Rhodes said as he cracked his knuckles. “Do you still have the detonator, Lieutenant Brookes?”

  “Yeah… it’s over there, sir,” Brookes said as she pointed over to it.

  “Cool,” Rhodes said as he walked over, picked it up, and examined it. “I need this to disarm the demo-charges. It’s a pity; I really wanted to blow them up too.”

  Rhodes looked through the firing slit and gave a sigh of disappointment; he then turned and headed out the bunker tipping his helmet to Brookes and Porter as he exited.

  A few seconds after Rhodes left Brookes and Porter started to crack-up and then the two quickly fell into a bout of uncontrollable laughter.

  “Oh brother, that guy is ridiculous!” Brookes laughed as she began to wipe the tears from her eyes; she and Porter were laughing so hard their faces were turning red.

  After a few minutes the two calmed down.

  “So what happens now?” Porter asked as she and Brookes stood up.

  “Well, I guess we head to the rendezvous spot behind the church. Akiyama should already be over there,” Brookes said as she and Porter exited the bunker.

  The sun was starting to break through the clouds as Brookes and Porter made a bee-line to the church. To her left were some of the remaining soldiers from the 32nd LRD. They were slowly marching north on the side of the main road. Brookes was just relieved they had stopped running and were marching in a somewhat orderly fashion. Fresh troops in IAC-400 armored personnel carriers were heading south across the bridges into Grantsburg.

  “Looks like we got reinforcements,” Brookes said as she looked at the vehicles and then up to the flights of Phaetons zooming to the south.

  “Yeah, too bad they didn’t get here sooner,” Porter said as the two went around a six-foot deep, muddy impact crater.

  Brookes glanced in and shuddered when she saw the lower half of a human torso lying inside; the smell was atrocious.

  “I wonder who it was,” Porter said, holding her nose from the smell as she looked down too.

  “No clue. Come on, let’s go,” Brookes said as the two walked away.

  Brookes and Porter were almost to the street that ran in front of the church when a GNN news van pulled up in front of them. Brookes stopped and looked at Porter; she seemed to be trying to hide her face by looking down.

  “Shit,” Porter muttered as she turned around and stood at Brookes’ side.

  A reporter and a camera crew quickly jumped out of the van and ran over to the two. The reporter looked comical to Brookes; she was dolled up in makeup, and was wearing a spotless, brand new, ill-fitted piece of bulky body armor over her khaki vest and blue long sleeve shirt; the sleeves rolled-up past the forearms. Her strawberry blonde hair was tucked up into a blue army helmet that looked way too big for her head. The camera crew running behind her weren’t wearing any helmets or protective gear at all, so Brookes was assuming that this was all for show.

  The reporter, microphone in hand, ran up to Brookes and Porter.

  “Excuse me, Lieutenant, ma’am. I’m Christina Norris, GNN News; we’re doing a story on … Oh my god, Vivian, is that you?” Norris said as she spotted Porter.

  Porter spun around and looked surprised.

  “Oh wow, hey Christina!” Porter said with a big smile that screamed of being forced to Brookes.

  “Fancy meeting you here, Vivian, I had heard you had moved back to Grantsburg after you quit, but I never imagined -- well, I’m just glad you’re all right,” Norris said slightly cattily and with a big grin.

  “Yeah… so how are things with you, Christina? Is everything going okay at the newsroom?” Porter asked.

  “Oh, everything is going terrifically. Can you believe it? This is literally my last week of field work. Hard to imagine, right? Soon, I’ll be replacing Arianna as the new primetime news co-anchor!” Norris said with a big smile and almost jumping with excitement.

  “Where’s Arianna going?” Porter asked.

  “She’s getting her own morning talk show -- I know, right?” Norris said as she rolled her eyes.

  A voice from the van yelled out about their boss needing material soon.

  “All right! Fine,” Norris said, and then looked back over to Brookes and waved for the cameraman to come in closer. “Well, I have to get back to work, Porter. You know how it is. It was nice seeing you though. We should really stay in touch.”

  “Yeah, nice to see you too,” Porter said as she waved goodbye to Norris and then walked across the street to the church; she leaned on the wall in the alleyway that looked to lead around to the rear of the church. Porter gave a thumbs-up to B
rookes.

  “So, Lieutenant uhh… Brookes, is it? Can you tell me what unit you’re with?” Norris asked before she started the interview.

  “I’m with Commando Squad 13, The Dark Horses,” Brookes said with some pride.

  “Oh wow, I didn’t know they were still around. That’s Captain Lex Fletcher’s famous commando squad, isn’t it?” Norris asked as she looked around, presumably for him.

  “Well… it’s Rex Fischer actually, but yes it’s still his squad. We were on the frontline just a-”

  “Wow… you wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you? I would love to get an interview with him,” Norris said as she continued to look around for him.

  Brookes heard the voice from the van protesting about there not being enough time. Norris huffed in frustration and gestured to Brookes to stay where she was; she then turned around quickly and headed back to the van. After a minute of heated arguing, Norris came back with a smile.

  “So, Lieutenant Brookes, do you know where Captain Fischer is?” Norris asked eagerly.

  “At the moment, no, but I do know he will be coming by this way. If you wait here for a bit I’m sure you’ll spot him; you can’t miss him,” Brookes said as Norris’ face lit-up with anticipation.

  “Why thank you, Lieutenant Brookes, we’ll wait for him. You’ve been very helpful,” Norris said as she turned around and headed back to the van; Brookes stood there for an awkward couple of seconds, not sure if she should leave or not.

  I guess they’re not interviewing me, Brookes thought as she shrugged her shoulders, and walked over to where Porter was waiting. Porter looked at the news van behind Brookes, then back at Brookes and rolled her eyes.

  “So how did it go? You enjoy your time with Miss Prissy?” Porter asked jokingly.

  “Heh… she told me she wanted to interview Captain Lex Fletcher,” Brookes said as the two walked down the alley.

  “Ha! She could never get names right. God, it was people like her that made my decision to leave, all the more easier,” Porter said as she put her hands behind her head.

  The two rounded the corner and came to a small playground and picnic area behind the church. Akiyama was sitting at the lone picnic table by an old seesaw to the right; she was cleaning her sniper rifle.

  “Hey Akiyama,” Brookes said and waved.

  “Nice to see you, ma’am - Porter,” Akiyama said as she looked up from her rifle, and went back to her weapon. “I’m sorry about what happened to Riley.”

  “What happened to Riley?” Porter asked.

  Akiyama looked up, but didn’t say anything. It quickly dawned on Brookes and Porter; the torso in the crater. Brookes felt a little sick and sat down at the picnic table.

  “Oh my god, Riley,” Porter said in shock as she covered her mouth and sat down backwards at the table. “That means I’m the only one left now.”

  Porter started to weep softly, got up from the table, and walked over to the old swing-set off towards the back of the playground; she sat on one of the swings with her back to Brookes and Akiyama. Brookes started to get up; she wanted to make sure Porter was okay, but Akiyama tapped her on the arm and told her to give Porter a moment to herself.

  Poor Porter, Brookes thought as she saw Porter with her left arm wrapped around the chain; she was swinging slightly back and forth, scraping the dirt below her with her boots.

  “I’m going to go look for Captain Fischer and the rest of the squad,” Brookes said as she looked at Akiyama.

  “Okay, I’ll be here,” Akiyama said as she lifted up the detached bore from her rifle and looked through it.

  Brookes walked over to the alleyway and saw the Dark Horses minus Captain Fischer entering the alleyway from the street; they looked worn-out.

  “I’m sure glad that’s over,” Sanchez said to Hartford.

  “Yeah… hey, Lieutenant Brookes,” Hartford said with a slight smile. “We went by the bunker and you weren’t there. So how was your first battle? Are you still sure this is your line of work? Ha-ha!”

  “We lost Riley, Hartford. Porter and Akiyama are back there. Where’s Captain Fischer?” Brookes asked.

  “Sorry about Riley, Brookes. Cap, is back there giving an interview to GNN,” Hartford said as she and Brookes walked by each other.

  “I wouldn’t disturb the Cap, ma’am,” Martin said as Brookes walked by him. “The man gets in his element, when there are attractive reporters around.”

  “I’m sure,” Brookes said as she walked to the sidewalk across from Fischer and Norris, who was just beginning her interview.

  Fischer was eating up the attention, giving stoic looks, and striking heroic poses when they asked him. He had no idea that the reporter thought his name was Lex Fletcher just ten minutes ago or that she didn’t even know he was still around.

  Norris asked a couple of softball questions to start Fischer out with; he gave standard expected PR answers in return. The thing that struck Brookes was how Fischer, during the interview didn’t mention the Reservists that were assigned under his command, but he did mention how his squad had come through unscathed.

  “So what was the key to the successful defense of Grantsburg, Captain Fischer?” Norris asked.

  Successful? Brookes thought as she looked to see what answer Fischer would give.

  “Well, there were many keys to our victory here, but I think the main one was the steadfastness and resolve of our troops; they showed no fear when facing the enemy and fought hard for every inch,” Fischer said while giving a stoic look; it seemed straight out of the posters she had when she was twelve.

  Brookes shook her head; she had heard enough and headed back down the alley to see how the others were doing. Halfway down the alley she could hear Fischer laughing and Norris giggling as though he were flirting with her; Brookes walked a little faster away.

  Chapter 39

  “I think we might be safe for now,” Wilcox said as they listened to a large group of robots passing by their location.

  Lander and possibly the last three survivors of Foxtrot Company were sitting in a dark, dank cellar in one of the old abandoned houses downtown; the cellar smelled of rotten mildew. The damp concrete floor was crawling with cricket spiders, or cave crickets as Wilcox was calling them. Lander could feel them jumping at him whenever he moved. He knew they were harmless, but they still grossed him out.

  “I wish I had some bug spray,” Nguyen said as she brushed the disgusting looking insects off her; they kept jumping on to her bandaged wound.

  Lander thought about how they got here and how it seemed like a miracle that any of them were still alive. Lander couldn’t get the image of the squad of soldiers getting roasted by a Mark Three as they were trying to flee down Main Street. He thought about the old Grantsburg courthouse being blown away by two Mark Fours; a platoon of soldiers buried alive inside, crying out from under the rubble.

  They had lost contact with what was left of the rest of Foxtrot Company thirty minutes ago after they abandoned their last command post. They fled from building to building, desperately trying to put up whatever ad-hoc resistance they could, but it just wasn’t enough to halt the relentless metal tide. It was just Lieutenant Wilcox, Sergeant Nguyen, Private Kelly, and himself remaining now.

  Lander and the others could still hear the fighting raging outside ever so faintly. They wanted to, but couldn’t provide any assistance; they were too far behind enemy lines at this point. Going outside ran the risk of exposing themselves, and with no way out and very little ammo left; it was suicide to even consider, but Lander knew they would have to try eventually at some point or risk starving to death.

  “How long do you think we’ll have to stay down here?” Lander asked Wilcox.

  “Well, we have enough provisions to last us a day or two at the most, but if we get really desperate there’s plenty of protein hopping around on the floor,” Wilcox said as he leaned back on the old washing machine he was sitting on.

  “We also have enough wa
ter purification tablets to last us a week, assuming there’s still water in the pipes of this house,” Nguyen said as she stomped the bugs at her feet.

  “Hey. Don’t kill our emergency food supply, Sergeant,” Wilcox said half-jokingly.

  “Heh… I thought that’s what Kelly was here for,” Nguyen quipped.

  “What?” Kelly gulped as Wilcox and Nguyen had a quiet laugh at his expense.

  Lander wasn’t laughing, he knew he had to get out of here and find his family somehow. There was no telling how long they were going to be stuck in this place; he couldn’t take it. He could barely see anything around him; there were no matches, flashlights, or any other way of producing light. The only light source came from the small crack in the cellar door, and that was about it.

  He could sense the cellar was a lot bigger than the small area by the stairwell they were occupying. The dark abyss to his right, the annoying insects crawling on him, and the deadly robots with their constant electric hum, waiting outside; it was all seriously beginning to unnerve him.

  Lander jumped up and paced around for a crunchy minute.

  “We need to try and reach friendly lines,” Lander said and then started for the stairs.

  “No,” Wilcox said as Nguyen threw her right leg in front of the stairs, blocking Lander from heading up. “We’ll wait here for a few more hours, and then Kelly will go up and scope things out.

  “Me? Sir, I …”

  “A couple of hours? It will be getting dark, and our lines might be pushed farther to the north,” Lander said, interrupting Kelly.

  “And tell me how you propose to get past the hundreds of thousands of robots already between us and friendly territory?” Wilcox asked rhetorically. “Sit down and be patient, Sergeant Lander. You’re not going anywhere unless I say, remember?”

  Lander sat back down and was welcomed back to his seat by more cricket spiders hopping on him, seemingly delighting in his misery.