by Jake Bible
As the ATVs neared, the Rookie could see that the wall wasn’t just made up of twisted scraps of metal and iron. Bodies hung from various spikes, hooks and poles. Many were strung up with wire threaded through their limbs, just waiting for the rotten flesh to give way and let the corpses fall to the dirt below.
And the dirt below was where the Rookie really focused. Deaders. Hundreds and hundreds of deaders, maybe even thousands, swarmed about the wall as it stretched for close to a mile in each direction before wrapping around and back, keeping those inside safe from the flesh-eaters outside. And captive with the flesh-eaters inside.
“You been to Eden ‘fore?” the driver asked the Rookie.
“No,” the Rookie said. “Didn’t know it existed.”
The driver glanced over at the Rookie and grinned his idiot, tooth-free grin. “You’s in for a treat.”
“I imagine I am,” the Rookie frowned, his eyes locked onto the mass of zombies that had turned towards them as the sound of the ATVs drew their attention. “We aren’t going through them, are we?”
“I heard you’s from the wasteland,” the driver said. “You’s da Boss’s kid. You ain’t afraid of no deaders is ya?”
“Not usually,” the Rookie said. “But that’s a lot of dead folk.”
“They like the scraps.”
“Right, I get that,” the Rookie nodded, humoring the driver. “But this isn’t exactly an armored vehicle.”
“No,” the Driver replied. “It ain’t.”
As the ATVs neared, the Rookie could hear the sound of metal scraping against metal. Then the ground in front of them erupted into flames, as a ten foot wide corridor through the deaders was scorched clear. Flames stayed on each side of the corridor, framing it and keeping the rest of the zombies from attacking the ATVs, as the vehicles sped towards the great wall.
A small door opened and several heavily armed men poured out, taking a position on each side of what the Rookie started to make out as a gate. The gate opened and let the ATVs through, then was quickly locked into place behind them.
“Home sweet home,” the driver said. Then punched the Rookie in the temple, knocking him out instantly.
***
The mech was crouched low, almost sitting on the hard packed dirt. Jenny lowered her binocs and took a deep breath. In all her traveling across the wasteland in the Railer train she’d never seen anything like what swallowed the ATVs. It was a massive fortress, surrounded by deaders, and covered in horrors she didn’t want to see.
“You are such a pain in the ass,” she muttered as she pondered what to do.
There was nothing but open ground between her and the fortress and she knew she’d be spotted in seconds in the mech. Her only choice was to rush the place and hope she had enough fire power and strength to get the Rookie out. Or to come up with another plan. She had no clue what the other plan would be though.
“Pain in my ass.”
Eleven
Slick with drool, Commander Capreze’s head popped up as the chime to his office rang.
“Yeah, uh, yeah, enter,” Capreze said as he wiped the drool from his cheek and tried to conceal the pool on his desk. His sleep patterns were messed up as always and he was crashing out without warning more and more.
At least in his dreams he could visit with Rachel, whether she was real or not.
“You wanted to see me, Commander?” Lt. Murphy asked. “Sorry I’m late. I was pretty grimy and needed to clean up.”
“Yes, come in,” Capreze said as he stretched and shook the sleep from his head.
“Was I interrupting?”
“Not at all,” Capreze smiled. He cleared his throat and continued. “Jethro has alerted me to the fact that three of my mech pilots are now deep in the wasteland and unaccounted for. Apparently Bisby tried to integrate with a dead mech and it hasn’t gone according to plan.”
“My team aren’t mech savvy, sir,” Lt. Murphy stated. “Not sure how we can help.”
“You can help by going and rescuing their asses,” Capreze said. “Jethro thinks they may be facing something new.”
“New, sir?”
“A mech religious cult.”
The room was silent as that sunk in.
“I…uh…did you say mech religious cult?” Lt. Murphy asked. “Mechs? Religion? Not following you, sir.”
“Jethro?” Capreze sighed.
“Okay, so here’s the story,” Jethro began.
***
Murphy’s team all gaped at her as she filled them in on their mission.
“You have got to be shitting me,” Specialist Sol said.
“No fucking way,” Specialist Grendetti followed.
Specialist Kafar just kept shaking his head.
“Get geared up for deep wasteland work and meet in the hangar in ten,” Murphy ordered. “Jethro is going to brief us as much as possible on the way.”
“Transport, sir?” Sol asked.
“Hybrid,” Murphy said.
“One of those things the Railers have been building?” Grendetti asked. “Have they been tested?”
“The one we’re gonna use has,” Murphy replied. “No integration. Manual like a transport, but mobile like a mech.”
“And with the firepower of a mech,” Sol added. “I’ve been spending as much time in the hangar as possible in case something like this occurred.”
“Ten, people,” Murphy said and clapped her hands. Her team scrambled.
***
“So who wants to drive?” Jethro asked over the com. “Any volunteers?”
The Special Ops Team all looked at Specialist Grendetti as they stepped into the space that looked like a mix between a mech and a transport cockpit. Six seats were spread evenly around the cockpit, each facing a massive vid screen instead of a windshield.
“What?” Grendetti asked. “Why me?”
“You love to drive,” Murphy said.
“I don’t love to drive,” Grendetti argued. “I love to blow shit up. Put me on weapons.”
“Every station has weapons and every station can drive,” Jethro said. “So just pick one. You can switch up instantly at any time.”
“You’re driving first,” Sol said to Grendetti as he took his seat.
The rest of the team sat down and strapped in as Grendetti grumbled.
“Take a seat, Specialist,” Murphy said.
“This sucks,” Grendetti bitched. “You realize I’ll probably break this thing before we get out of the hangar, right?”
“Breaking it is going to be hard to do,” Jethro said. The vid screens in front of each seat came alive and schematics of the Hybrid came up. “Four legs and no arms. Each leg is multi-jointed and heavily armored. These gams are stronger than the best mech we have. It would take several RPG direct hits to cripple this puppy.”
“So it’s a walking footstool?” Kafar joked. “Where’s the vid remote?”
“Shut it,” Murphy scolded. “Please continue, Jethro.”
“Each station is identical,” Jethro continued. “Piloting and weapons can be accessed at any time. However, if one station has piloting engaged then the next station cannot take over without controls being handed over intentionally or by emergency override. Please see the big red buttons at your station.”
“Which one does what?” Kafar asked.
“There’s pictures, dipshit,” Grendetti said. “It’s designed for idiots like us.”
“Exactly,” Jethro said. “One of you becomes incapacitated and the next person can take control of piloting or the specific weapons system by slamming that button home.”
“Let’s talk weapons,” Sol said.
“Forward and aft 50mm heavy-machine guns,” Jethro said. “Two up front and two behind. Although, technically, the Hybrid is symmetrical so there isn’t really a front and back.” Images came up on each vid screen. “As you can see there are no windshields. This means that no matter who is driving they control their own view. This goes for weapons also. You can
switch views without switching seats.”
“Nice,” Grendetti said. “What else does this thing have?”
“RPGs,” Jethro said. “Thirty of them. You also have plenty of flames. This puppy will torch half the wasteland.”
“That it?” Kafar laughed.
“Each seat can lay back and become a bunk,” Jethro said. “You can drive in shifts and no one has to leave the cockpit.”
“What about-?” Grendetti started to ask.
“Shitter is below,” Jethro said. “Next to the cargo bay. There’s also a very small infirmary. Let’s hope not more than two of you get wounded.”
“One can only dream,” Kafar said.
“Driving is easy,” Jethro said. “Two stick system, very retro. Both sticks forward, the Hybrid goes forward. Both sticks hard back and it breaks. Slow back and it goes in reverse. Right forward while left-.”
“Got it,” Grendetti said. “No pedals to push?”
“No, no pedals,” Jethro said. “I’ll guide you out of the hangar.”
The Hybrid began to move and the screens switched from the Hybrid overview to images of the hangar. The screen in front of Grendetti faced forward and the Hybrid easily navigated its way around the mech hangar chaos of repairs and personnel.
“I don’t feel like we’re moving,” Murphy stated.
“Total cockpit stabilization,” Jethro said. “That way you don’t get disoriented if you switch controls from one station to the next.”
“And if the stabilization goes out?” Murphy asked as the Hybrid cleared the hangar and trundled away from the Stronghold.
“Get ready to puke,” Jethro said. “It really throws your shit off.” The Hybrid slowed. “All yours, Grendetti. Try not to break it.”
“I make zero promises,” Grendetti stated as he took hold of the sticks and pressed them forward. The screen lurched slightly, but the cockpit didn’t register it all. “Nice.”
“Good luck, team,” Jethro said. “Coordinates are locked in. I also uploaded the full communication I had with everyone. Plus all info I have on the Great Maker.”
“The what?” Specialist Kafar asked.
“You’ll see,” Jethro said.
Twelve
“So, One Arm,” Masters began. “We aren’t going to be deader food or anything, right?”
“No, Pilot Masters,” One Arm replied as the mech made its way down into the underground caverns that lay below the valley floor. “There is no intention of feeding you to any creature.”
“Good to know,” Masters replied. “So…what are you going to do with us?”
“Enlighten you,” One Arm said.
“Enlighten us?” Bisby snorted. “A dead mech is going to enlighten us? Ha!”
“I do not appreciate your attitude,” One Arm said. “If I did not need you to stabilize my AI while I fully transition then I would eject you from my cockpit, Pilot Bisby.”
“I’d gladly go,” Bisby responded. “I don’t need this crap from a deader.”
“Kids, come on now,” Masters chuckled. “Let’s all play nice.”
“Are you kidding?” Bisby snarled. “This is not what I signed up for.”
“Nor I,” One Arm said.
“So neither of you were prepared,” Masters said. “When it comes to new relationships no one is prepared. You just have to take what you’re given and work with it.”
Bisby and One Arm were silent for a moment.
“What the hell are you babbling about?” Bisby asked.
“I think you have strayed from the issue,” One Arm said.
Masters nodded sagely. “You will learn one day. Pilot and mech. It’s a beautiful thing.”
“Masters, if you don’t shut your hole, I’m…gonna…shut…,” Bisby started. “What the hell?”
“Biz?” Masters asked, looking Bisby over. “You feeling alright?”
“You can’t see what I’m scanning,” Bisby said. “Is this real?”
“Since I can’t see what you’re scanning how can I kno-?”
“I wasn’t talking to you, dipwad,” Bisby said. “I was talking to One Arm. Am I seeing this right?”
“You are,” One Arm replied. “Pilot Masters will be able to see once we get around this curve and go a few meters deeper.”
“See what?” Masters asked as the mech finally approached its destination. “What are you two-? Oh, wow…”
***
The rock gave way, but Harlow kept her footing, as she moved her right hand to a new grip in the cavern wall. The massive space was easy for a giant mech to navigate, but for one solitary mech pilot it wasn’t such smooth going.
“Why the hell did I agree to help Biz take down that mech?” Harlow mused aloud as she moved further down the wall, almost to the cavern floor. Or that part of the cavern, at least. “Should have known the asshole would get us into trouble.”
Harlow jumped the last few feet and took a look about, here halogen lighting up the minerals coating the cavern walls. She walked a few feet and stopped, realizing the climb she just finished was the easy part of her trip. She had a lot more to go.
“Fucking Bisby.”
***
“How many are there?” Masters gasped. “I mean, Jeezus, look at them all.”
“Those are the children,” One Arm said. “Now I may tend to them.”
“You couldn’t before?” Bisby asked as the mech walked towards the rows upon rows of mini-mechs that lined the cavern walls. Most were in various states of disrepair, but many were complete.
“I was not stable before,” One Arm stated. “I was a danger to the children.”
Halogen floodlights turned on One Arm and a shrill alarm sounded.
“Halt, rogue!” a voice boomed. “Approach no further!”
“No need for alarm, Hollow Eye,” One Arm said. “I have rid myself of the putrid thing and attained a new pilot. My AI will become fully stable in only a few hours.”
“You have brought living ones down here?” Hollow Eye asked as he shut off the floodlights. “Living pilots?”
“What is this?” a mech asked as it crawled from under an outcropping in the back of the cavern. “Living? You have brought the living?”
“Living?”
“What living? Pilots?”
“Pilots? Alive?”
AI voices echoed from all directions as mech after mech moved away from their tasks and stations and approached One Arm.
“Oh, not good,” Masters said. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
***
Harlow stopped in her tracks, puzzled by two things: the light emanating from the main cavern and the obvious sound of mech hydraulics. Lots of mech hydraulics. She knew that her long blades wouldn’t be effective if she was going after metal, so she checked her shotgun and 9mm and held them at the ready.
She took a diving roll into the cavern, coming up on one knee, the shotgun and 9mm held out, ready for action. Her eyes scanned the scene in front of her and she nearly dropped her weapons.
Mechs. Dozens of mechs. And that didn’t count the mini-mechs that lined the cavern.
“What the fuck?” Harlow gasped as the mechs, obviously deaders all, turned to look at her.
“Oooh,” one of the mechs said as it pointed at her. “Cursing is not allowed around the children.”
“Cursing is never allowed,” Hollow Eye stated as he thudded forward. “You would be pilot Harlow?”
“I, uh, yeah,” Harlow stuttered, not sure whether to run or open fire and go out in a blaze of glory.
“Hey, baby!” Master yelled as he stepped out from behind one of the rows of mini-mechs. “Isn’t this place cool? Look at all this metal! There’s a fuc- I, uh, mean freakin’ army of minis!”
“Mitch?” Harlow asked as she slowly, cautiously, got to her feet. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Ooh, baby, watch the language,” Masters said as he came towards her. “The mechs get a little touchy about the potty mouth stuff.”
“No, Pilot Harlow,” One Arm said as he bent low so Bisby could be seen. “This is very real. We are just waiting for an audience.”
“An audience?”
“Yeah,” Masters said. “We’re gonna go see the Great Maker. He’ll grant all of our wishes. I’m gonna wish Bisby had a brain.”
“Knock it off, Mitch,” Bisby warned. “I’d really like to get out of this mech alive. You being an asshole doesn’t help.”
“Language,” half the mechs said at once.
“Nope, not creepy at all,” Masters grinned at Harlow. “So…how are you?”
Harlow’s eyes narrowed. “Why aren’t they trying to eat us?”
“Only the rogues eat human flesh,” Hollow Eye said. “They did not transition properly.”
The mech knelt low so Harlow could see the lack of pilot inside.
“I guess it’s like Shiner,” Masters said. “They only need a human brain for the initial transition. Once their AI adjusts they can compress their storage and live forever.”
“Better hurry up and adjust soon,” Bisby said. “I want out of this deader.”
“The feeling is mutual,” One Arm responded.
***
The surprising part of the side cavern the mech pilots walked into when their audience was granted was the intense lighting. All around the space were large halogen arrays bolted into the walls and ceiling. The lights revealed in bright relief the piles and piles of mech parts that were strewn everywhere. And in the middle of the piles was a man. Or the semblance of.
“Ahhhh, welcome,” Colonel Howard Maker, the Great Maker said as he wiped his hands on his overalls and stepped forward. “A pleasure to meet the latest generation of pilots. Always nice to know that there are those out there willing to lay their lives on the line for a civilization that should have died out centuries ago.”