by Lisa Lace
Dr. Redford had casually stood aside to let the other man speak, but he stepped forward again to speak to the small crowd. “If you have any more questions, we can address them after we land. Thank you.” Both scientists sat down and began quietly talking to each other.
Samantha snorted as she picked her earbuds back up.
“Did I miss something? What’s funny about this?” Rachel asked. “It sounds like we’re going to be taking a lot of risks.”
“You make it sound like this is the first time you’re covering anything.” Samantha set the earbuds back down and rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s going to be risky. The entire point of being out on the scene is live coverage. That means we might get shot at, bombed, or swept away in a flood at any time. What do you think this business is all about? If you can’t handle it, you better get out now while you still can.” She gestured toward the door before quickly plugging her ears again. Rachel didn’t get the chance to reply.
Donnie, the cameraman, appeared in the aisle with a large thermos in his hand. Rachel glanced up at him and back to the window, hoping he would take the hint and go away. Unfortunately, Donnie was there to socialize. He unscrewed the lid of the container and stretched over Ms. Houston, offering a drink. “I have some great coffee here if you want to try some.” He sounded enthusiastic. “I always feel funny after flying, and I think the caffeine helps soothe my stomach. I never go anywhere without it. You should try some.”
Even though it was sweet of him to offer, Rachel wasn’t keen on drinking from a stranger’s beverage container. She started to decline politely, but Samantha snapped at the cameraman before she could say anything. “Get off of me, you big oaf!”
“I just want to offer her something to drink,” Donnie replied patiently, unaware of how much he was invading Ms. Houston’s personal space. His armpit, complete with a large sweat stain, hovered in front of her face. He stretched farther, moving the thermos closer to Rachel.
Rachel knew the man was just trying to be friendly, but this wasn’t the best way to do it. “Thank you, really -”
“Go away!” Samantha shoved at Donnie’s arm as he tried to hand the drink to Rachel once again. The dark liquid inside sloshed out and spilled down the front of his coworker’s shirt.
Rachel flung her hands in the air helplessly as they watched the warm coffee soak into the pale cotton of her blouse. She had purchased several new outfits to celebrate her job. This was the first time she had worn the top. If she had been at home, she might have been able to get the stain out, but she doubted the plane was full of cleaning solutions. The dirty shirt would have to sit in a ball at the bottom of her suitcase until she returned to civilization and would probably serve the rest of its life as a cleaning rag.
“What did you do that for?” Donnie turned toward Samantha. There was a look of horror on his face as he assessed the damage. “I was just trying to be nice.”
“I wouldn’t call it being nice. What you are is an asshole.” The senior reporter scowled as she looked up at the cameraman. “That could have landed on me, you know.”
Though Rachel agreed with Samantha’s sentiments, it was becoming quickly apparent that Ms. Houston would be a poor role model. Donnie had produced a dirty handkerchief from a pocket and forced his way in front of the seats, dabbing at the spilled coffee that was seeping into Rachel’s bra. “I can take care of myself.” Rachel grabbed Donnie’s wrist and gently but firmly pushed him away. She knew he was trying to be kind, but the last thing she needed was a bumbling cameraman groping her in the middle of a flight while a bunch of gossiping reporters surrounded her. “I’ll change when we land.”
With a sad and embarrassed look on his face, Donnie returned to his seat. Samantha kept her earbuds on and turned as far away from Rachel as she could.
It was a long and lonely flight. Rachel’s only company was the cold coffee pressed against her skin.
After landing in Albuquerque, Rachel waited impatiently for airport staff to finish unloading the luggage. She felt tired and filthy after the trip. She looked forward to collapsing in a hotel room where she could shower, change, and take a short nap.
Dr. Redford had other plans for her. “Two vans are waiting outside to take us to the site. There’s space for your luggage, but don’t dawdle. It’s important to get started right away. We have to get the cyborgs under our control again before they hurt anyone. I’ll be waiting for you.” He turned on his heel and headed out the door.
Rachel watched hopefully as the offloaded luggage made its way around the carousel, but her beat-up suitcase failed to make an appearance. When everyone else had already fetched their bags, Rachel asked a bored-looking attendant if he could find her stuff.
The airport worker sighed as he searched through computer screens while she waited impatiently with her arms crossed. “It looks like your suitcase is in San Francisco,” he finally said. His voice sounded spiritless. For him, this sort of thing happened every day, and he no longer cared if people had their bags or not. “We can get it back here in two days.”
Rachel ran her hands down her face. “I’m only going to be here for a couple of days. By the time it arrives, I’ll be at my house.”
The attendant shrugged. “Sorry. We can ship it to your home if your address is on the tag.”
A headache started to form behind Rachel’s eyes as she stormed out the door to the waiting vans.
Chapter Three
The cyborg observation specialist poked his head through the entrance of the cave to speak with the squad leader. “We have incoming vehicles, sir. Two vans.”
Wrath looked up at his soldier and squinted his eyes in thought. He had abandoned the designation MD-782 long ago. Cyborg Sector had given him that name, and he was eager to break all ties with the group of filthy humans who had betrayed them. It hadn’t taken long to choose a new name for himself. He was a weapon made of human flesh and machine. One day, he would use his abilities for vengeance against Cyborg Sector. He was Wrath, and his companions accepted the change without question. Following his lead, they had chosen new names for themselves as well.
“Thank you, Watcher. Can you determine the origin of these vehicles? We don’t see a lot of traffic here.” In this remote area of the desert, all they ever saw was an isolated backpacker. There had never been cars before.
Watcher shook his head. “They are plain white vans and unmarked. The license plates don’t appear to be government-issue. I won’t know for sure until they get closer to us.”
Wrath nodded. “Keep your eye on them, and let me know as soon as you find out. I want plenty of time to plan an attack if it’s necessary.”
“Why are we waiting? Let’s just blow them up now,” suggested a soldier from the back of the cave. He had been sitting with his feet propped up on a rock while he sharpened his knife. His boots fell to the hard-packed earth, and his dark eyes glittered with excitement at the news of intruders.
“We need more information first, Weapon.” Wrath had a hard enough time containing his own anger, and it had been a challenge to help the ammunitions specialist control himself as well. The man was an expert in battle strategy, and he had been itching to use his skills. “If they are hostiles, there’s no point in giving away our position too soon. We don’t know if another convoy is following them.”
Wrath looked at his communications specialist out of the corner of his eye. Wire stared blankly at the cave wall as he accessed his databases, then shook his head. His computer systems had begun to deteriorate without regular maintenance from Cyborg Sector. The time in the cave had not been kind to their cybernetic parts.
He wondered if the decision to stay in the terrorists’ cave had been correct. At the time, Green Squad had no further instructions from Cyborg Sector and no summons to return. They didn’t have a place to go. Cyborg Sector had programmed them with mission parameters to kill particular people, not live in the desert. Their onboard computers had not contained information relevant to their n
ew situation.
Fortunately, it had not taken long to settle into the cave. The terrorists had lived simply but had filled the cave with furniture, weapons, and food stores. It was the safest place the cyborgs would find in the desert and provided excellent cover from any potential enemies.
Wrath admired the way the terrorists had set up their base. It was high in a rocky outcropping. The cave provided not only shelter from the weather but also a good view of any approaching parties. Any soldiers on guard duty could see for miles in all directions. A small creek nearby ran through a narrow, rocky arroyo and was their primary source of water. When the cyborgs had consumed the stored food stockpiled by the terrorists, they turned to local wildlife for sustenance. They managed to catch snakes, lizards, birds, and the occasional coyote. Wrath had forbidden Green Squad to use plasma guns for hunting, but the radicals had provided plenty of conventional guns and bullets.
It didn’t take long for Watcher to return. “They’re headed directly toward our location, sir. I have new information to report. Their shirts have the Cyborg Sector logo.” The younger soldier licked his lips nervously as he waited for a reaction from Wrath or the other cyborgs. If the intruders were from Cyborg Sector, they were the last people any of them wanted to see.
“Should I take care of them?” Weapon set down his knife and started checking his arsenal. Like the other cyborgs, he had a plasma gun built into his hand, but he took pride in taking care of the armaments the humans had left behind. Weapon had carefully cleaned and maintained them ever since the cyborgs took up residence in the shelter. Without waiting for orders, he stood and reached for a large gun resting on a natural rock shelf.
“Not yet.” Wrath wanted the humans from Cyborg Sector to die just as badly as Weapon did, but he wanted to make sure the unit survived as well. They had limited ammunition. Wrath didn’t want to waste it on a small group of humans if a larger group was coming right after them. “Let’s see if they get past our border security first.”
Wrath stepped outside the cave and looked off in the direction of the enemy. The two vehicles were still far away, but it wouldn’t be long before they met Green Squad’s first line of defense. Eliminating humans by hand provided a sense of satisfaction, but the explosives seized from the terrorists might do the job for them.
Chapter Four
The scientists and reporters had distributed themselves into both vans. Rachel found herself crammed into the back of a long, white, ten-passenger vehicle with the pile of luggage in the cargo area rattling obnoxiously behind her head. Dr. Redford was driving with the handsome man next to him in the passenger seat. Samantha Houston was not in this vehicle, much to Rachel’s relief, but her cameraman was. The stout man didn’t say a word to her when she got in. She had a feeling this was going to be an awkward assignment.
One of the Cyborg Sector scientists had been kind enough to lend Rachel a shirt after hearing about the problem with her luggage. The researcher was slim and barely spoke a word as she fished a top out of her suitcase and handed it to Rachel. It was a black polo with blue stripes running down the sides. The Cyborg Sector logo stood out prominently on the breast. The shirt was made of a stiff material, and the woman who had lent it to her had a smaller bust. Rachel thought it would be better than wearing a shirt covered in coffee. She wondered what her bosses at World Community News would say when they saw footage of her in Cyborg Sector clothing.
As they drove out of the city, the good-looking scientist at the front turned around to address the members of the media once again. “I’m not kidding when I tell you to stay out of our way. If you guys get yourselves shot, you’re going to have to take care of yourselves. Cyborg Sector isn’t responsible for any deaths or injuries.”
“Calm down, Clayton. Stop acting like such a pompous ass.” Dr. Redford didn’t take his eyes off the road, but he held a placating hand out toward his colleague. “We’ve been over this before.”
Clayton briefly glared at his boss but then turned back toward the passengers. “I’m serious. These cyborgs aren’t toys. The only reason we’re allowing the media to come along is so we can keep tabs on you instead of wondering when you were going to appear. You’ll have a designated area far away from the site, and you can remain there in safety.”
His commanding attitude made him far less appealing than he had seemed when Rachel first saw him. She had no problem with staying out of harm’s way, but she didn’t need anyone to treat her like a child. The reporter turned to look out her window, more interested in watching the scrubland and distant mountains roll slowly by than in paying attention to a man who thought he was better than everyone else.
After several hours, the van slowed as it began climbing a rocky slope. “I believe this is as far as we can drive.” Dr. Redford tapped on the brakes to avoid a large boulder. “The rest of our progress will have to be on foot. I’ll park right up here. Clayton, radio the other van and tell them what we’re doing.”
Clayton picked up a walkie-talkie from the console, but before he could turn it on, a deafening blast shook the vehicle. Rachel closed her eyes and pulled her arms instinctively over her face. A shockwave hit her chest and shoved her back into her seat. The van started to slide across the rocky terrain without a driver. She wanted to run, fight back, or do anything that would get her out of this situation, but the vehicle was being thrown around like a leaf in the wind.
With a dull thud that suggested Rachel was back on the ground, the van stopped moving. Even though her eyelids were closed, she could sense a bright light, as though the tinting had been blown right off the windows. Hesitantly, with her heart pounding in her chest, she opened her eyes.
The front of the van had smashed into a boulder, and the grille had crunched against the rock like an accordion. Rachel was still strapped into the back seat, but she was thirty feet away from the front of the vehicle. The floorboard before her was gone. The van was in at least two pieces.
The passenger next to her had disappeared. Bloody remains were the only indication that a living person had ever sat in the seat. Frantically, Rachel struggled with the buckle on her seat belt, desperate to get out of the remnants of the van before anything else happened. The webbing cut into her throat and dug into her ribs. The latch finally released, and Rachel collapsed to the ground as she tried to flee. She crawled toward a pile of rocks, uncertain of where to go or what to do.
The rock formation offered shade and the chance to compose herself. Rachel looked around to see if the other van was approaching. If she was fast enough, there might be time to stop them from meeting the same fate as her vehicle. With luck, there wouldn’t be any more bombs, and she could go back to town immediately. Screw the assignment and screw her new job. It wasn’t worth risking her life.
After seeing the pieces of white metal strewn across the road, she knew there would be no rescue from the rest of the party. Flames engulfed bits of upholstery in the middle of the path and shards of glass glittered in the sun. The other vehicle had been hit even harder than her van. There were no signs of life. Rachel would never again see Donnie with his travel container of coffee or Samantha with her earbuds and her nasty attitude. Everyone was dead.
With tears streaking down her face, Rachel collapsed into the sand. Something small and metal crunched under her hand. She opened her fingers to find Dr. Redford’s glasses. Unable to stop herself from crying harder, Rachel tried to decide on a course of action. She didn’t even know where she was. They had been driving for hours, and there was no sign of civilization nearby. The explosives that had destroyed their vehicles suggested that the cyborgs were nearby. Her future looked bleak. She would either die of exposure or be killed by cyborgs.
When the hand grabbed onto her shoulder, she let out a scream.
“Shut up, will you? It’s only me.”
Rachel turned to see that Clayton had joined her in the shadow of the rocks. A large wound was visible in the flesh above his eyebrow. It sent a trickle of blood down the si
de of his face. His clothing was torn, and he had visible bruises and scrapes, but he was alive. He still held the useless walkie-talkie.
She was desperate for any human contact, and Rachel eagerly grabbed the man’s upper arm. “What are we going to do?”
Clayton leaned casually against the rock and wiped the blood from his face. “We’ll keep going, of course.”
“What?” Rachel couldn’t seem to catch her breath, and the scientist wasn’t helping. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “This day might not be going according to plan, but we’ve obtained one important piece of information. We can now say with confidence that there are cyborgs in the area. Who else would set a trap for us like that?” He began rummaging around in the pockets of his khakis.
Rachel couldn’t believe her ears. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Everyone around us is dead. We have no weapons and no way of communicating with anyone.” She wondered where her phone was. She had packed it in her carry-on bag stowed in the back of the van. It was probably in a million pieces or burned to a crisp. “We’re not fighters or trained to negotiate with cyborgs. We have to find a way back home and let someone else deal with this mess.”
Clayton had found his phone and was holding it up in the air, walking around and trying to get the best signal possible. “No way. Dr. Redford shouldn’t have been in charge of this mission. I know more about Green Squad than he ever did. There’s still a chance I can negotiate with them and get them back to Cyborg Sector.”