Mechanic (Corrosive Knights)

by E. R. Torre

  Nox recognized them both. Robert Octi Junior held the beautiful blonde Julie very close.

  “Should have held her a little closer,” Nox said.

  She shut off the lamp and exited the room.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Robert Octi Junior took a deep swig of rum, swallowed, winced, and belched. He hit the brakes and his five hundred thousand credit sports car veered wildly to the right. The cat that wandered into the middle of the road was lucky its reactions weren’t quite as badly impaired. It scampered away intact and disappeared into a bush. The car skidded to a stop right over the path she crossed.

  Robert clenched his teeth and stared at his bottle of rum. It lay on its side on the floor of the passenger’s compartment, spilling and staining the car’s one of a kind carpeting.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Robert groaned. He grabbed the bottle and capped it.

  Dark thoughts floated through the young executive’s mind. His whole life was spent trying to prove himself worthy of the Octi name yet time and again he failed. Both himself and his father. Despite each failure, he moved on to bigger and bigger projects.

  This time it’ll work, he’d tell himself. And when the latest project inevitably blew up in his face, he’d dust himself off and find the next big thing to tackle. At some point, something had to work out, right? Right?

  Robert Octi Junior was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. He was only too aware of what everyone whispered behind his back.

  You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re Octi’s son. If you were like everyone else, you’d be out on your ass.

  Well, Robert thought, I’m not like everyone else. I’m an Octi, and I’m richer than you are and much better than you are. And you know what? I will succeed. Sure I’ve taken some hits, but I’ve got what others don’t: I know I’m right. I’ve got clarity of vision and my decisions, in the long run, will prove me right. History will prove me right. Besides…

  “…I’m the decider,” he whispered. There was a slur in his voice.

  Fuck them. Fuck them all if they don’t see what’s right in front of their noses.

  Robert pressed down hard on the accelerator and shifted the car into gear.

  Fuck them all.

  The warehouse district’s security was beefed up after Donovan’s robot went wild. The short electrified chain link fence that used to circle the perimeter was replaced with one that rose a full five feet higher. The extra security was not so much to keep out curious civilians or industrial spies, but rather the media.

  Robert Octi Junior’s sports car skidded to a stop next to the guard gate. The guard, an elderly man with an elliptical paunch, eyed the car and its occupant and noted the pungent smell of alcohol in the breeze.

  “This is a restricted area,” the guard said. “You can’t enter.”

  “Do you know who I am?” Robert said.

  “No sir. Nor do I care.”

  Robert’s face turned red.

  “I don’t have time for peasants,” he yelled.

  “Son, it’s late. Why don’t you go home, sleep it off?”

  “I’m Robert Octi Junior.”

  The guard’s mouth shut tight. He squinted hard and looked down at the occupant of the car. Suddenly he stepped back. His lips twitched nervously as the expression on his face turned to complete shock.

  “Recognize me now, asshole?” Robert muttered.

  The Security Guard tried to say something, but couldn’t. Instead, he reached for the button next to the guard gate door. The gate rose and Robert shifted the car into gear.

  “You’re fired,” Robert said. The sports car’s tires squealed and the vehicle sped into the district.

  The guard wiped sweat from his face and sat back into his post.

  “Thirty years,” he whispered. His body slid down heavily on the chair. “Thirty years.”

  The guard thought of his wife, of his son, and of their young family. Times were tight, no more so than now, and though this job wasn’t much, it provided some security. That was over. All because he didn’t recognize—

  The elderly security guard spotted the approaching shadow from the corner of his eye, but his reaction to it was slow.

  A single bullet tore through his heart, killing him instantly.

  No more worries, no more fears.

  Robert Octi Junior slammed on the brakes. His sports car skidded to a halt in the parking lot in front of Warehouse 23. The lights around the warehouse were off and the place was quiet. In fact, Robert thought, it look abandoned.

  Where is everyone?

  Robert frowned. At the very least there should be no less than an army of technicians inside, sorting through all the shit brought in from the Demon’s Desertland base. Were they taking the night off?

  This thought angered Robert even more. His ass was on the line and his people on break. No fucking way.

  Robert exited the sports car and marched to the entrance of the warehouse. His head was on a pivot, moving back and forth while searching in vain for any technicians or security staff.

  When he reached the door leading in, he found it ajar. The anger within him, already barely contained, turned nuclear. He pushed the door fully open and darted inside.

  “Where the fuck are you guys?” he yelled.

  Not there. The interior of the warehouse was as devoid of life as the outside. Robert’s only company was the hundreds of crates brought in from the Demon’s Desertlands base.

  “Hello?” Robert yelled. His word echoed in the distance.

  Fuck me.

  Robert wandered deeper into the warehouse. He was alternately shocked and angered by the fact that no one –absolutely no one– was here. But, by the time he neared the rear of the warehouse, his anger was gone. The place was simply too empty. Someone should be here. The emptiness was…creepy.

  “Hello?” Robert repeated. He no longer yelled. There was uneasiness in his voice. The back end of the warehouse was drenched in inky shadows and Robert felt alone and vulnerable.

  At first slowly, then faster and faster, he retreated. He passed several columns of boxes and crates and the only sound he heard was that of the heels of his limited edition Arceli shoes clicking on the concrete floor. His eyes scanned the shadows as he progressed while his mind went wild. He feared imaginary monsters lurking behind every black corner. They tensed in their shadowy lair, jagged muscles coiled while sickly tongues licked sharp teeth. They waited for him. They waited to move.

  “Just my imagination,” Robert said. The brittleness of his voice came as a surprise. I’m above all this, he thought.

  I’m above all this.

  The words offered him a little courage, and Robert slowed his hasty retreat.

  “I’m above it all,” he said, as if it were his new mantra.

  But just as he got a grip on his fears, Robert spotted a pair of shining red eyes glowing from the shadows beside one of the many crates in the area. The image was so surreal that it took several seconds to register. Once it did, Robert let out a screech and lost control of his movements as well as his bladder. He fell heavily on his ass and a sharp pain flooded his body. Tears ran down Robert’s face as he desperately crawled from those evil red eyes. The only thing between this foul creature and the young executive was a puddle of urine.

  “Please, don’t,” Robert begged. Though he spent much of his professional career sending others into dangerous, even deadly situations, up until this very moment he had never experienced such mortal fear first hand.

  Tears streamed down Robert’s face as the red eyes watched. Their gaze was unblinking and cold. They did not move, they did not blink. They almost seemed…

  Frozen?

  Despite his fears, Robert stopped crawling away. The pair of red eyes remained exactly where they were, completely immobile. Robert watched them for several more seconds before getting up on his knees.

  The ghastly pair of eyes remained stubbornly in place. Robert stood now, staring them do
wn. A minute passed, and then another, yet the eyes didn’t move. Not even an inch. No living creature could stay that still. And if it wasn’t a living creature…

  “…then what the hell are you?”

  With great hesitancy, Robert moved forward, circling the puddle of urine, until he was at the edge of the great shadows and just a couple of feet from the glowing red eyes.

  “What the hell?” Robert said.

  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark shadows. When they did, he made out a rectangular shape attached to the pair of red…lights?

  Robert leaned in some more, until he was directly in front of the lights. Though his instincts still screamed to run, curiosity got the better of him.

  Shaking hands reached out and very hesitantly touched the source of the lights. The object was larger than a shoe box but smaller than a Domination game. Heavier, too. Robert pulled the box out of the shadows and into the light. When he finally had a good look at it, he gasped once again.

  It’s a bomb.

  Robert slowly, extremely cautiously put the box on the ground. He then pulled back at the speed of light. In a fraction of a second the junior executive was running to the warehouse exit. He made it only halfway there before something heavy smashed into the side of his face. The young executive’s legs folded under and he crashed to the floor, blacking out for an instant.

  When he once again opened his eyes, he was relieved to see Nagel standing over him.

  “Nagel,” Robert said. Blood dripped from his mouth and one of his molars was loose. Despite the pain and fear, he felt embarrassed. Would Nagel realize he pissed himself? How could he possibly miss seeing…? Maybe the shadows—

  “Thank the Gods,” Robert said. He tried to get up, but was too dizzy. “Someone is trying to blow all this stuff—”

  Robert abruptly stopped talking. Nagel held a handgun and pointed it directly at the junior executive.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  A serpentine smile appeared on Nagel’s face.

  “I found a better paying job,” Nagel said. “Consider this my two-week notice.”

  Nagel showed Robert his other hand. In it was a small silver cylinder. At its top was a large candy red button. Robert recognized the device. It was the Octi Corp. Dash 3000 Detonator. There was little doubt it was linked to the explosive Robert just found.

  “You bastard,” Robert said. The extent of his personal bodyguard’s betrayal was brutally clear. “Back at the base, you were the one that let Nox go.”

  Nagel nodded.

  “What’s your plan? Are you trying to ruin me?”

  “No,” Nagel said. He cocked the gun and smiled. “I’m going to kill you.”

  “Wait!” Robert pleaded. He reached into his coat pocket and with trembling hands removed the worn diary the Octi survey crew found so many weeks before. “We can make a deal! This has to be worth something to you!”

  Robert tossed the diary toward Nagel. The bodyguard let it fall to the ground at his feet.

  “It describes Lemner’s passkey, Nagel,” Robert continued. “You know that. It’ll help you find it!”

  Nagel let out a laugh. He gave the diary a vicious kick that sent it flying into the shadows. The smile on Nagel’s face turned sinister.

  “I don’t need it,” Nagel said. “Or anything else here.”

  “You…you have it already, don’t you? You have Lemner’s passkey?”

  The smile remained on Nagel’s face.

  “After all I’ve done for you...How could you?”

  “It was easy.”

  Nagel lifted the detonator.

  “Don’t!” Robert yelled.

  But Nagel pressed the button.

  Robert closed his eyes, expecting the world to erupt.

  It didn’t.

  When Robert opened his eyes, Nagel stood in the very same spot. He let out a sarcastic laugh.

  “Did you really think I’d blow this place up with me inside? Do you think I’m as stupid as you are?”

  Nagel’s laugher died down.

  “There are eighteen bombs hidden throughout the warehouse. I just set off every one of their timers, Robert. I’ve got five minutes to get out of here. You get to stick around and see them explode. Up close and personally.”

  Nagel lifted the handgun and aimed it at Robert’s leg. Robert felt his chest tighten.

  He wants to cripple me…leave me here to die.

  Robert closed his eyes and turned away. If his bladder wasn’t already empty—

  The sound of a gunshot filled the empty warehouse.

  Robert winced and let out a yelp. He expected to feel the intense pain of bullet shattering bone. Instead, he heard the roar of the gunshot echo throughout the warehouse until it faded away. When the sound was gone, Robert realized he felt no pain. No pain at all.

  Robert slowly opened his eyes. He was surprised to see Nagel lying on his stomach on the floor. Standing a few feet behind the bodyguard’s corpse was Nox. She held a smoking handgun.

  “Hello again,” Nox said.

  The Mechanic walked to Nagel’s side and picked up the bodyguard’s gun. She examined the detonator and, realizing she couldn’t use it, tossed it aside.

  “W…why?” Robert gasped.

  Nox eyed the young executive.

  “Speak up,” Nox said. “Got some ringing in my ears.”

  “Why did you save me?”

  “Did I?” Nox replied.

  Robert rose.

  “Look, what I did to you back in the base…”

  “Don’t remind me, you vicious little shit.”

  Robert swallowed.

  “Nox,” Robert muttered. “We can still make an arrangement. You could work for us.”

  Nox chuckled.

  “Sure. You’ve got at least one opening,” Nox said and pointed to Nagel’s corpse. “I suppose you could use a new bodyguard.”

  Robert ignored Nox’s sarcasm.

  “I meant it when I said you would make a good Octi Corp. employee!”

  “You’re still trying to peddle that shit? Sorry, Robert, your dental plan sucks.”

  Robert swallowed hard. He clenched his fists.

  “Then go ahead, get this over with. Kill me!”

  “If we stick around much longer, I won’t have to,” Nox replied. “Let’s go.”

  “You…you’re taking me away from here? Why?”

  Nox didn’t answer. Robert felt a deep shiver.

  “Oh no…You want to take me away, to torture me, right? Do to me what I did to you? Well you can go to hell! I’m staying here!”

  Nox grabbed Robert by his shirt’s collar and pulled him close to her.

  “I’m not interested in torturing you, you fucking jackass,” The Mechanic snarled. “In fact, I don’t plan to ruffle a single hair on your pretty little head.”

  “What?”

  “That’s right, Robert. I'm going to let you live.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  Robert exited the warehouse first, followed closely by Nox. Robert’s feet dragged as the two walked past the junior executive’s sports car and past the warehouse parking lot. When they were a safe distance away and standing behind a large metallic trash dumpster, Nox motioned Robert to stop. She then ordered the young executive to sit. Robert wearily eyed the Mechanic.

  “What’s this all about?”

  Nox leaned against the dumpster and put her gun away.

  “It’s time for some clarity,” Nox said. “Nagel wasn't the only one working against you. Hell, he wasn’t even the closest person to you that was planning your latest spectacular failure.”

  “Closest? What are you talking about?”

  “I'll bet you're curious who's been screwing you, in more ways than one. She planned it all, your entire downfall. Not that it required that much effort. She’s a hell of a combination of beauty and brains, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

&nb
sp; “I’m talking about your wife. Julie Octi.”

  Nox expected Robert to take a swing at her, but instead found all fight was gone from the young executive. He stared at Nox with barely focused eyes.

  “Julie?”

  “When Donovan’s robot failed to take me out at my apartment, Julie used the opportunity to get me after you. Why not? I was furious with Octi Corp. At that point, I was willing to do anything to destroy you. She fed me bits and pieces of information and directed me to your Desertland operation and closer and closer to the Demon’s base. It was after I broke in and was captured that she overplayed her hand. She had Nagel and that security guard fake my death for your benefit. If she could pull such heavy strings to save me while I was at your complete mercy, it meant she was deep into your operation. I figured she knew everything that was going on.”

  Nox paused and smiled.

  “She probably knew more about it than you did.”

  Robert’s hand came to his mouth and he let out a gasp.

  “She’s the one!” Robert said. “She has Lemner’s passkey!”

  “That’d be my guess.”

  Robert wiped sweat from his forehead and muttered a series of unintelligible words.

  “Cheer up, Robert,” Nox continued. “It wasn’t personal. She was just trying to get ahead, like all good middle management types do.”

  Robert had enough. His eyes bulged and, finally, he rushed Nox. The Mechanic easily swatted the young executive to the ground.

  “Pay attention. Because this was supposed to be one of the last scenes in Julie’s little play.”

  “F…fuck you,” Robert mumbled.

  Nox leaned down and faced the junior executive.

  “Your father is on your ass both because I’m still alive and because your Desertland operation hasn’t yielded much of any good. So here you are, desperate to placate the old man by fixing either of your two biggest problems. Dealing with me would take time and plenty of hired help and isn’t work you could do on your own. Therefore, your only move was to return to this warehouse and personally oversee the search through Lemner’s material. You’re hoping that luck will finally be on your side and you’ll find something good.”