by Jake Bible
“One Arm,” Bisby said. “I’ll give you one chance to end this.”
“I do not need your chance,” One Arm said as it sent its fist into the Hybrid, buckling the machines legs under it.
“Fair warning, bitch,” Bisby said as he closed his eyes and dove into One Arm’s AI.
***
The howl that spread across the wasteland almost stopped the battle in its tracks. Even the mini-mechs hesitated as the scream of anguish and pain echoed from One Arm’s loudspeakers. But the hesitation of metal lasted only a millisecond, not long enough for any of the humans to register.
“Shit balls,” Grendetti said as the Hybrid recovered and lumbered to the side away from One Arm. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Jethro opened up with the 50mm guns on the mini-mechs coming at the Hybrid. He aimed at the legs, strafing the hydraulics until the things were having to pull themselves forward with their fists. Most of the mechs were already out of ammo, their supplies having been short from the start. Jethro realized that and pushed forward, sending everything the Hybrid had at them.
A large mech made it past Stomper’s defenses and clambered up its leg, punching mech fist-sized holes in Stomper’s exoskeleton. The huge mech fell to its knee and reached down for the mech, but the thing leapt away, rolling in the dirt until it gained control and came up firing.
Round after round peppered Stomper as the mech tried to swat the attacker away. The accuracy of the attack became alarming as system failures across the board started to set off alarms.
“Stomper?” Jethro asked. “I’m not liking what I’m seeing here.”
“I am not liking what I am feeling here,” Stomper replied. “This one has more firepower than the others.”
The mech, Hollow Eye, circled about Stomper, concentrating all weapons on weak points and structurally vulnerable areas.
“Get out of there, Stomper!” Jethro shouted. “Just bail, man!”
Full system hydraulics failed and Stomper could no longer stand without worry of snapping struts throughout its legs. When the firing from Hollow Eye stopped, Stomper thought it may have a chance to retreat, but the mech was on it in a flash, its hands ripping at cables and connections as fast as it could.
While all may have noticed when One Arm started wailing, none noticed when it stopped. Everyone was too busy keeping themselves alive to worry about a pained mech.
“Hey,” Bisby coughed as he stood behind Hollow Eye. “Get off my friend.”
The mech whirled about in time for Bisby to punch the one metal arm he had through Hollow Eye’s midsection. Bisby opened his massive metal fist and grabbed anything and everything he could then yanked his arm back out.
Hollow Eye fell off Stomper and stumbled about the valley floor for a moment before collapsing to its knees. Bisby walked over to the fallen mech and pulled his arm back. His head felt like a thousand deader teeth were ripping at his brain, but he had One Arm subdued and that was all he cared about. Except for ripping Hollow Eye’s head right off. He really wished the mech had a head.
Instead, Bisby threw the punch and slammed his fist straight through the mech’s cockpit, obliterating all systems at once.
“Hey, Jethro?” Bisby gasped.
“Yeah, Biz?” Jethro replied, trying to hide his smile.
“Fuck you,” Bisby responded just as his mech collapsed.
Nineteen
The first fight had stunned the Rookie. The second fight awed him.
“Those two are only eleven?” the Rookie asked as he watched the intricate acrobatics of two finely trained warrior girls as they sparred without restraint in the arena below. “They’ve been training since they were six?”
“They will keep training and fighting,” Right Hand Wife said . “Until they reach menses. Some will move on sooner than others. Once they reach menses though then they are sent to the Maze.”
“And they just wait until their prince comes and rescues them?” the Rookie laughed. “Happily ever after?”
Right Hand Wife turned away from the Rookie in disgust. She abruptly stood up and the other wives did so also. “We shall watch from a better vantage point,” she said sternly. “The air here stinks with bigotry.” Before she left she locked eyes with the Mayor. “He is your heir? He is an idiot.”
The Mayor waited until the women had left then turned to the Rookie, a big grin on his face. “She doesn’t like you, boy,” he smiled. “You’re gonna have to work on that if you aim to take over for me.”
“I don’t aim to do shit,” the Rookie said. “Except get the fuck out of here as soon as possible.”
The Mayor clapped him on the shoulder. “That very well may be your fate. I just can’t guarantee it will be alive. Choice is up to you.”
“You took my choice when you took me,” the Rookie countered.
“You lost your choice when you buddied up to those mech folk,” the Mayor responded. “Sometimes to be a man you have to be forced into something that ain’t of your choosing.” The Mayor swept his arms wide. “I was forced into the wasteland and it was the best thing for me.”
“From what I know you were forced out of our village because no one there had a choice,” the Rookie said, his eyes drawn to the combat below. “Your reputation isn’t one of hugs and sing-a-longs.”
“Brutal times, brutal place,” the Mayor said. “I’ve learned civilization now. People have value here. In their own way.”
“Right,” the Rookie nodded. “In their own way.”
***
The tallest of the girls, a flat faced brunette with a vicious scar across her right eyebrow, circled the shorter girl, her blunt sword at the ready, her small, round shield up.
The shorter girl, a lithe redhead whose face showed more years than she’d actually lived, just waited, sword down, shield casually at her side.
They both wore nothing but loincloths, their sun drenched skin pulled tight over muscles that would have made any mech pilot envious. Their chests were bare and breasts exposed, but neither had developed fully and only had small buds that showed they were approaching womanhood.
“Not exactly modest,” the Rookie observed.
“They are unencumbered by weight,” the Mayor said. “Easier to see the development of muscle.”
“If that’s what you have to tell yourself,” the Rookie snorted.
The cuff upside the head was swift and hard. The Rookie turned, ready to fight back, but the Mayor hadn’t changed positions at all and seemed bored by the action.
“Do you see naked women strutting about Eden?” the Mayor asked.
“Well...no,” the Rookie said.
“Do you hear women being called at, leered at, by the men that are not married?”
“Well, I haven’t exactly been given the full tour,” the Rookie said. “Boys will be boys and all that shit, so I’m sure it happens.”
“No. It doesn’t,” the Mayor said. “You have misunderstood everything since you’ve gotten here. A husband is only the voice and power of his marriages because the women allow it to be so. Look, fool!”
The Rookie turned back to the arena and watched as the brunette swung her sword at the redhead. The redhead ducked easily and crouched, sending a hard, sweeping kick at the brunette, who in turn leapt over the kick and came down on the redhead’s shoulder with her shield. The girl cried out in pain, but at no time did the blow slow her down.
She ducked and rolled to the side, then came up, her shield flying at the mid-section of the brunette. The dark haired girl barely had time to side step the attack, but in that time the redhead closed the distance and jammed her sword into the armpit of the brunette’s sword arm.
It was a move that the Rookie admired greatly. No sharp edges to hack off limbs with, no way to cut and bleed the opponent, the girl had learned to go for the soft areas, learned that a hard hit to the lymph glands under the armpit was nearly as bad as severing the arm all together.
The brunette dropped her sword and hug
ged her arm to her. But she did not quit. The Rookie expected it to all fall apart at that point and was on the edge of his seat when the brunette lunged one way then when the redhead took the bait, lunged back, leaping in the air and delivering a flying round house kick that had more power and efficiency of violence than any kick the Rookie had seen in the pit back at the Boiler village or in the fight cages he’d been enslaved in as a teen.
“Holy fuck,” the Rookie said as the redhead seemed to crumple under the kick. “That’s...wow.”
“I knew you’d appreciate this,” the Mayor said.
“I appreciate the skill shown, but not the reason behind it,” the Rookie said. “I have to admit I’m not a fan of kids fighting for their lives.”
“Lives?” the Mayor laughed. “Damn! I have over estimated you! No child dies in the arena unless it is a freak accident. This is training.”
“For the Maze,” the Rookie said. “Right. And that is where they die?”
The Mayor shrugged.
The brunette came in for another kick, but stopped suddenly and backed off. The Rookie nodded in agreement; the redhead was not hurt nearly as much as she acted. The redhead, sensing her rouse was discovered got to her feet and worked her sword in her hand, spinning it about in an intricate pattern.
The brunette’s eyes never once were drawn to the sword even though the Rookie couldn’t keep his own eyes off of it. She focused squarely on the middle of the redhead’s chest, her body taught with anticipation.
The redhead feinted left with a sudden swipe, but the brunette didn’t take the bait. A feint to the right, then left, then true jab to the gut were all wasted on the brunette as she saw every move telegraphed. Her eyes narrowed and she let go of her bruised armpit. She rolled her head on her neck and the Rookie could hear the vertebrae crack all the way up where he was sitting.
He leaned forward suddenly and his eyes widened. “Wait,” he whispered, seeing something in the brunette he had failed to notice before.
The brunette started to bounce from one foot to the other and the redhead was obviously nervous. With lightning quick speed the brunette sent a jab at the redhead’s face. The girl barely ducked in time, but it was a move she shouldn’t have made. She would have been better off taking the jab because the uppercut that followed cracked teeth and sent her sprawling backwards in the dirt.
No one came out to check on the unconscious form of the redhead as the brunette turned and looked all the way up at the Mayor.
“Hey, daddy!” the girl shouted, waving enthusiastically.
The Mayor blew her a kiss and the crowd stood and applauded with gusto.
“She’s my cousin,” the Rookie said.
“And I’ve seen the vids of you in your cage fighting prime,” the Mayor said. “Ain’t no doubting the family resemblance.”
***
“This is him?” the brunette asked as she shook the water from her hair and wrapped a towel around herself. “Cousin Dog?”
“Rookie,” the Rookie corrected. “I don’t go by Dog anymore.”
“Whatever he wants to be called,” the Mayor said. “She’s called Imogene.”
“Immy,” Imogene smiled, her hand out. She glanced at her father and he took out a knife and freed the Rookie’s hands. “It is an honor to meet you. I watched all your vids. Everyone has, but I’ve watched them the most. You’re a legend.”
“Uh, sure, right,” the Rookie nodded as he rubbed his wrists then shook her hand. “Thanks?”
“Is he gonna stay, daddy?” Imogene asked as she grabbed a pair of leathers and shrugged them up her legs then tossed the towel aside and pulled on a thin tunic. “He gonna be the next Mayor if you pass?” She looked up towards the sky, kissed each knuckle on her right hand twice and the spit on the ground. “Not that that’ll happen soon.” She took a jab at her father and he playfully knocked it away. “You’re in your prime!”
“I don’t know about prime,” the Mayor laughed. “But I still got some years in me yet.”
“You’re a natural fighter,” was all the Rookie could say and by the look on Immy’s face it was the perfect thing to say.
“Did you hear that, daddy?” she almost swooned. “Dog, THE Dog, said I was a natural fighter! Oh, wow, oh, wow, oh, wow!”
She smiled then looked down. “Daddy?”
“Yes, Immy?” the Mayor grinned, obviously proud of his girl.
“Why’s his legs all bandaged up? He have an accident?”
“Oh, that,” the Mayor said. “He was caught on the hooks.”
Immy frowned and a look that would have made any grown man cover his nuts overtook her face. “You hurt him bringing him here?” She shook her head. “Oh, daddy.”
“Now, Immy,” the Mayor started to protest. “Don’t you scold me in front of your cousin.”
“Have you apologized?” she asked, flames of red behind her eyes. The Rookie realized she was Right Hand Wife’s daughter. That family resemblance was obvious too. “Well, answer me?”
“Immy, we’ve talked about this.” The Mayor glared at his daughter. “You overstep, girl.”
“You overstep, man,” she countered and moved in close, quickly.
The Mayor stood his ground, but the Rookie could see the man was not comfortable with the confrontation.
“He apologized,” the Rookie said.
“Did he?” Immy asked, her eyes never leaving her father’s face.
“In his way,” the Rookie replied.
“In his way,” Immy parroted. She chewed the words over for a minute then took a step back. “We treat family right in Eden.”
“We treat family right in Eden” the Mayor recited. “That is true.” The tension left the two and the Mayor gave his daughter a beaming smile once again. “That was quite the fight today, Immy. Go get some food. I’m sure the other girls will want to talk to you about it.”
“Cleo wants to talk notes,” Immy said. “She never saw the uppercut and wanted to know how I got it by her. Gotta learn, right?”
“Gotta learn,” the Mayor said and swatted her on the thigh. “Now get.”
The Rookie watched in amazement as the young girl hurried off.
“I gotta say I’m more confused than I’ve ever been in my whole life,” the Rookie admitted.
“Not what you thought it’d be,” the Mayor stated. “Figured we’d have cages of breed feed and raping posts set up everywhere.”
“From your reputation?” the Rookie said. “Yes. I was expecting burning bodies and pits of deaders for people to be thrown in.”
The Mayor’s face fell and he looked away from the Rookie. “Time was it would have been like that. But any man can change.” He glanced back at the Rookie. “Ain’t that right...Rookie?”
“I still want to leave,” the Rookie said.
“We’ll see,” the Mayor nodded. “Tour ain’t over yet.”
***
The ATVs approached the smoking mech with caution. They didn’t see movement or signs of life, but they also didn’t know why a mech would be disabled not that far from Eden.
“Eyes and ears, assholes,” a man said as he hopped from his ATV. He pointed at the ground surrounding the mech. “Pilot’s here somewhere. This is probably a trap.”
“Why’d she torch her own mech?” another man asked. “Why not just come at us?”
“Ain’t no mech gonna get into Eden,” the first man said. “We’d blast it apart.”
“Still don’t make no sense,” the second man said.
All converged on the mech, carbines at the ready. It was obvious a pilot wasn’t inside. Two men pulled out sensors and started to sweep the mech.
“Ammunition,” one said. “But no explosives. Thing ain’t booby trapped.”
“Keep checking,” the first man said. “Find some tracks, find something.”
They continued their search, even taking the time to stab the dirt around the mech to see if the pilot was buried, but eventually they concluded there was nothing.
“What are we going to do?” the second man asked.
“Tow it in,” the first man said. “Too much metal and tech to let rot here in the waste.”
“That safe?” the second man asked.
The first man walked over to a service hatch and sprang it open with a blow from the butt of his carbine. He looked inside for a minute then reached in and yanked a handful of wires. There was an obvious sound of the mech powering completely down.
“Ain’t got no juice no more,” the first man said. “No juice, no threat. Now get it hooked up so we can get back. The Mayor’s working hard on this Dog guy. Everyone is working hard. Sure hope this plan works”
They hooked tow lines to anyplace they could, checked the balance with the ATVs, and started slowly back towards Eden.
***
“The Maze?” the Rookie asked as he stood before a small, metal door set into thick concrete blocks directly in the center of Eden. The door and blocks were recessed into the ground. “It’s down there?”
“It is,” the Mayor said. “And below us.” He turned and indicated the entire town. “The Maze stretches. It is home to several hundred slits.”
“What the fuck!” the Rookie gasped. “There’s hundreds of women down there?”
“Slits,” the mayor insisted. “You ain’t catching on to how it works around here.”
“No, no I get it,” the Rookie said. “They aren’t women until they get married. And they can only get married when a man goes down and does what, rescue them?”
“Fights for them,” the Mayor said. “It is about the fight and the warriors that emerge.”
“Who is he fighting?” the Rookie asked.
“It ain’t always a who,” the Mayor said. “We don’t remove bodies if a slit dies.”
“Jeezus,” the Rookie whistled. “You keep the deaders down there with them. Can I officially decline any part in this crazy town?”