Feed the Machine

by Mathew Ferguson

  Moments.

  A crossbow bolt thudded into broken fridge door next to him. He felt the wind of it pass his hand.

  The bottom of the hill, exposed but still running.

  Legs burning.

  Ash ran, the thin sole of his shoes ripping away. The air itself burning like acid. Another bolt hit the junk and shot sideways, whispering across his throat.

  A misplaced footstep and the pile rushed up to meet him.

  He crashed down in a shower of metal, heard fabric ripping, sudden agony in his knee.

  No time to stop, can’t stop but the pain demanded he slow, that he expose his back to Scabs and their metal bolts.

  The top of this hill and Raj, standing tall, hurling stones at their pursuers.

  Ash felt them under his hands—round stones, smooth but heavy, like something from a rich man’s fake garden bed. He grabbed two and stood, turning around in time to see a Scab get one in the face, crashing down into the pile, a thin splatter of blood dusting the sky.

  The Scabs were spread out down the hill. Some were still running towards them but others were staggering or lying still, blood streaked down their faces.

  Ash threw a stone but missed. The Scab took two more steps towards them before Raj’s stone connected with an enormous crack on the side of his head. He dropped to the ground and started shaking.

  Ash hit two more Scabs but Raj took them down. His aim was unerring, the heavy stones flinging out over the distance and crashing into skulls and faces.

  One raised his crossbow and fired it but it went wide, shooting out in an arc to land somewhere behind them. A moment later Raj felled him.

  Another Scab appeared on top of the hill. He was tall and unlike most of the Scabs, seemed to be solid muscle. Well-fed. He shouted out something and in an instant the pursuing Scabs turned away from Ash and Raj.

  “Let’s go,” Kin said from somewhere near their feet.

  Ash dropped the stone he was holding and turned away from the retreating Scabs. His mind was still whirling. Raj had bolted, running away, leaving Ash behind but then Raj had saved him, hurling rocks with eerie precision. These thoughts came and went in a flash.

  They went over the hill and clambered down the other side, moving as fast as they could.

  Something bounced off Ash’s knee and clinked as it hit the junk. A gold watch, gleaming. It had fallen out the wide hole torn in the front of his pack. He clamped his hand across it and scooped up the watch, the muscles in his back burning. He slipped it into the pack. It felt lighter than before but he couldn’t go back now to retrieve his lost fortune.

  The Scabs were still yelling in the distance and a thousand injuries were making themselves known but some quiet part of Ash’s mind was weighing his pack in his hands, estimating losses, calculating if he had enough to pay off the quota.

  “My pack is still full,” Raj gasped, as though reading his mind.

  “Okay,” Ash said, forcing the word out over his dry tongue and cracked lips.

  He touched his belt, found his water bottle was still connected. So were his bugs—only eight now, two left behind in the hole. He unscrewed the water bottle and gulped down a warm mouthful, drinking far more than he intended. He swallowed more, unable to stop himself. He seemed dry to his bones, the water doing nothing to satisfy his thirst.

  “We gotta move faster,” Raj said, gulping down water too.

  Ash looked at his friend and saw his hands were bloody, no doubt from the rush through the Scour. His pants were covered in dots of blood.

  “Let’s go,” Ash said.

  But they couldn’t speed up. Ash’s feet were aching and every step was a kind of numbing pain. He seemed to have used up all his energy running from the Scabs and now he had nothing left. He fumbled for some pap, swallowed it down with another precious mouthful of water and kept moving. Just one more step. Just one more step.

  The Scabs’ shouting and hooting grew fainter as they climbed another hill and down again. Ash looked back for a moment. There was a man in the distance, sunlight glinting from a pair of binoculars. Then he was lost behind the junk peak.

  Even with the missile hole to distract them, they both knew the Scabs would follow them. They never gave up chasing their prey, sometimes even coming within sight of town. They were excellent trackers and also insane enough to move around after dark, fighting hazels and taking their teeth to make weapons.

  Soon Ash couldn’t hear the Scabs at all. There was only his breath, the monotony of walking and the harsh sun.

  “Faster, faster,” Kin called from time to time and they would try to speed up but soon fall back to a trudge. They passed overhangs of cool shadow and all Ash wanted to do was sit down, to rest, to escape the blistering sun. Mindless as he was, he knew if they stopped they wouldn’t get up again.

  His mind drifted, imagining Cago’s gates, the three fences. In, past the guards, walking on dirt and sometimes cobblestones. Down a narrow street, the houses slumping against one another, boarded-up windows, rusty iron roofs. A blue door cracked and weathered but his door, his home, open and it’s cool inside, like the Wire Pub and Silver and Nola are there. Their mother comes in from the next room and hands him a glass of cool water, droplets beading on the side of it.

  The past and present blurred together. Their two-room hovel expanded. More rooms, soft carpet, cool polished wood. A tall white refrigerator filled with meat and orange juice. Endless food and endless bugs.

  His father, a tall black streak with a grinning white smile appearing from the kitchen, walking towards him, his arms outstretched—

  Ash slid down the face of the junk cliff and crashed to the ground. Thankfully it was mostly rubble with a few pieces of iron sticking out. He saw a broken wheel. It resolved itself into a busted pram. The one they’d searched through earlier today.

  Crunching metal and footsteps and then Raj was by his side holding out his hand.

  Ash took it and together they managed to get him up.

  “Need to rest a minute,” Ash mumbled, his tongue swollen in his mouth.

  Raj gave Ash some yellow pap which he accepted without speaking. It had flavor—a sort of faint chicken, slight saltiness and he washed it down with a gulp of water from his rapidly diminishing supply of water. Ash swayed on his feet, his mind throwing up random images and ideas.

  Raj had abandoned him, running away to save his own skin but Ash knew there was nothing Raj could have done. If he’d waited for Ash they both would be dead right now, pierced with crossbow bolts.

  His father had abandoned their entire family, running away to… what? Taking their entire fortune, dooming the family to years of poverty and degradation.

  One day Nola would run away, perhaps as soon as she was eighteen and able to leave the family. Maybe even before.

  And one day Silver would go too. She had bastardo blood in her, making her sick, an outcast, a burden. All bastardos started the same way and they all followed the same path. As soon as they were old enough they left, never to return to their homes.

  A Scab, scarred and sunburned, walking through the junk, two bloody silver collars looped over his shoulder, Kin’s dead body in his hand.

  Ash swallowed more water and forced himself to focus. He looked down at his shredded shoes and laughed. It was followed by a sob and a shuddering breath.

  They had to get back. They had enough wealth to save both their families. Then they could return to the missile hole, retrieve the rest of the watches and live forever happy and fed.

  Forever warm.

  Ash looked up at Raj, feeling his mind piece itself together.

  “You right?” Raj asked.

  “Yeah.”

  He swallowed the scant liquid in his mouth, about to say more when there was a crack, a piercing scream of a sound that turned into a roar of thunder and the ground shook. They both stumbled away from the edge of the pile as it shuddered and moved, pieces of metal and rubble falling down around them.

  Ash went
down on one knee but then managed to haul himself back to his feet. Behind them, a cloud of black smoke mushroomed up to the sky.

  “Bye Scabs,” Ash said. He started laughing.

  “Our fucking watches,” Raj said, his hands on his knees, tears streaking down his dirty face. For some reason this was hilarious and Ash soon was doubled over, laughing, gasping air, begging Raj to stop even as both of them said nonsense things and kept laughing.

  It was Chirp fluttering down and yelling FUCK YES! in his high voice that brought both of them back to reality.

  The missile may have killed the Scabs but even so, they had to get back to the cocoon and weld themselves in.

  Ash stood upright, feeling his body aching.

  “How long till sunset Kin?”

  “Two hours, twenty-four minutes.”

  “How long to reach last night’s camp at current speed?”

  “Three hours, four minutes,” Kin said, trotting off ahead of them, leading the way.

  They set off, the hot sun weakening as it made its descent. Ash wanted to jog, to move faster but his pack weighed him down, even half-empty. Even the bugs on his belt felt too much, swinging and banging against his leg.

  They just had to reach the cocoon, weld themselves in and hope Scabs didn’t find them and there were no hungry hazels around.

  Ash looked down at his feet. They were cut and had bled but his wounds seemed to have seared shut by the blistering sun. The delirium of the day threatened to return but as the sun dropped and the heat vanished, Ash found himself able to focus.

  That meant he was able to worry.

  Thirty minutes at least out after sunset. Thirty minutes walking around as a hazel meal.

  Maybe they could weld in somewhere now instead?

  He fumbled for his cutter and found it still attached to his belt. Twelve percent power. Enough to weld in and cut out but not enough to dig a new hole.

  “How’s your power?”

  Raj blinked himself out of a daze. He checked his cutter.

  “Eighteen percent,” he said. He shrugged, his pack creaking.

  His pack is full and yours is half-empty and he is stronger than you and better and —

  The thought streaked through Ash’s mind but then evaporated, wisping away like it had never been.

  Soon the light turned red and patches of shadows appeared along their dusty path. The sun would drop behind the hills and it wouldn’t be long before the hazels crept out of their dens. Ash glanced back and saw dark clouds massing on the horizon.

  They walked and jogged sometimes. Ash found himself laughing again. It was so funny, stomping his feet up and down kicking bolts out of the way, scraping dust up with his ripped shoes. Everything was so funny. He was running with the world of wealth on his back, Cago so close but so far. When he returned he’d tear his mother’s cart to pieces and throw it in the hasdee. She’d never have to haul shit again. He’d hand Nola a perfect gold watch and see her face light up.

  They would throw some into the Machine, paying off their quota but others they’d trade with collectors. People willing to pay them so much more than the Machine would. The rich who would pay for delicate metalwork. They’d enough watches between the two of them to start a new fashion craze. He’d buy Fat Man and make him work as a junk slave, setting all his slaves free.

  The sun dropped below a point on the horizon and somewhere in the distance a hazel howled, a lonely echoing cry. A moment later it was dark, the last beam of light vanishing and Ash pulled himself out of fantasy.

  They rushed—as fast as they were able—through the gloom descending to full dark. The clouds on the horizon had moved, spreading across the sky and blocking what scant starlight there was. Only the glow to the south was unmuted, shining up a pillar of light.

  “Fifteen minutes,” Kin called from ahead of them.

  “Fuck,” Ash swore, his hand straying to the cutter on his belt. The hazels were calling to each other across the Scour with howls and roars. Some were distant, a fading echo on the edge of hearing. Others seemed to be only over the next hill.

  Despite their exhaustion, they seemed to fly through the dark, following the twisting path, Kin calling out the distance as they moved. They rounded a corner and even in the darkness, Ash recognized the spot where their cocoon was.

  The howl came from above them.

  Across from the hole a hazel appeared on top of the pile. It was an adult, a good hundred kilos of solid muscle. Its metal teeth gleamed as it let out a roar and bounded down the pile coming straight for them.

  “Fuck no!” Chirp screamed and dive-bombed it. The hazel slowed, ducking its head and swiping with a heavy paw. Chirp dodged out of the way and flew up, out of its reach.

  Kin leapt up and slashed his claws across its eye, shredding the delicate flesh.

  The hazel screamed and swiped. Kin flew backwards, landing in the dirt, rolling over and then jumping to his feet.

  “Stupid hazel!” Kin hissed and moved sideways, away from the hole.

  The hazel growled, showing its shining teeth and took a step towards Kin. Blood streaked down the side of its face, its ruined eye dripping.

  Raj and Ash reached the hole, cutters out and blazing and pulled away the junk they’d piled in front of it. Behind them the hazel growled again, watching Kin with its good eye and then looking at them.

  “Come get me stupid hazel,” Kin said and circled around to the hazel’s blind side.

  Ash pulled the final piece of metal out of the way and Chirp flew in. Raj dived after him. Ash followed, landing heavily on his pack.

  “Hurry Kin!” he yelled out. He sat up and pulled his pack off, throwing it towards the back of the cocoon.

  Kin had moved around to the side, the hazel following him but as Raj and Ash vanished into the pile, it had climbed down and crossed the expanse of earth towards them.

  “We gotta seal it up,” Raj said, his cutter burning bright in the darkness.

  “Wait,” Ash demanded, looking out into the dark.

  The hazel moved closer to their hole. The beams of their cutters reflected in its remaining eye.

  “It’s going to fucking get us!” Raj yelled, his voice booming in the confined space.

  “Kin!” Ash yelled.

  The hazel leapt, landing at the entrance of the hole and ducking down to peer at them.

  It let out a roar that was abruptly cut short, turning into a snarl. It turned around, swiping at something. Kin streaked past Ash, a blur of black.

  “Close it!” he yelled.

  They pulled at the metal front, hauling it down but the hazel moved too fast. It swiped its paw in the gap, catching a claw on Ash’s pants, ripping through the fabric. He swung the cutter at it, searing the flesh and the hazel howled but didn’t pull away. It swiped again and this time Raj swung at it, the smell of burned flesh and fur filling the small space.

  The hazel pulled its injured paw out and the cocoon closed up. With shaking hands they welded it shut, the angry hazel screaming on the other side and hitting the thin wall of metal with its paws.

  It pierced the shell, five fine points of silver ripping through. The entire cocoon shook as it pulled its paw free.

  Ash’s cutter went out, the battery exhausted.

  “Oh shit,” Raj swore and turned his off, conserving energy.

  “Stupid hazel,” Kin said in a satisfied tone from behind them.

  The hazel went quiet. They heard it move around outside. The cocoon creaked as it settled its weight against the front of it. Then it started scratching, the sound moving around as it searched for any hole it could find, anything it could hook a claw into and tear apart.

  They moved to the back of the cocoon, Kin rubbing against Ash’s hand. He felt wet warmth on his fur.

  “You hurt?” he whispered.

  “Don’t worry,” Kin replied and nuzzled his head against him.

  The hazel continued to scratch.

  Time passed as they sat still and silent,
afraid to move, their stomachs grumbling in hunger. Outside the junk shuddered and moved as more hazels descended on their hiding place. Soon they started growling, arguing amongst themselves. A fight broke out, a hazel screamed. The junk shuddered again as it ran away or gave chase.

  The hazel continued to scratch.

  They opened their water bottles in the dark and swallowed down mouthfuls. Raj passed Ash some pap—his was gone and he had no idea if he’d eaten or dropped it. They huddled at the end of the cocoon, exhausted but unable to sleep. Their bedrolls were gone, left behind in the hole, now buried under tons of junk after the Scab exploded the missile or it exploded by itself.

  The hazel grew quiet, the scratches slowing down and then stopping.

  Soon the day overcame them both and they were asleep, huddled at the rear of the cocoon.

  Ash only woke once more in the night. It was to the sound of a raging thunderstorm, heavy rain thudding down on the pile, soaking through everything. It was just a moment and then he slipped away into an exhausted sleep again.

  Chapter 6

  “It has been dawn for an hour now,” Kin whispered.

  Ash tried to open his eyes but they were glued shut with grit and sleep. He rubbed at them, twisting his eyelashes between his fingers to separate them. He opened his eyes, feeling like someone had thrown a handful of sand in his face.

  “The hazel is still out there?” Raj whispered.

  “Yes.”

  Ash sat up and closed his eyes as a wave of pain throbbed through him. It washed up his arms, down his legs, across his back and came to a peak on his left cheek and ear. He reached up and touched his ear. It was scabbed with dried blood. The entire side of his face was burning.

  The pain in his body grew. Feet aching. Myriad small cuts and injuries. A sore throat.

  He eventually opened his eyes again. The cocoon was lit up, small beams of light coming through holes pierced through the walls and front.

  “The hazel is blocking us in,” Raj said.

  “Yeah, I got that.”