Dead Mech (24 page)

Masters sprinted to his mech, the Rookie
layed down cover fire as the UDC troops recovered.

***

June looked into the clay bowl in her hands
and then out at the villagers. None of them averted their eyes. All
watched her, waiting.

“Well, Rachel Capreze? What will it be? Eat
the stew now? Or be the stew tomorrow?” the Boss laughed. He leaned
in close to her ear, his breath foul and hot on her cheek. “And
trust me, dear, dear Rachel. I will have my fill of fun before I
hand your carcass over to the cooks. Now… Pick. Up. The. Spoon.
And. Eat.”

June lifted the spoon, squeezed her eyes
closed and opened her mouth.

***

Masters slipped into his cockpit and
strapped in just as the salvage mech burst from the wall, widening
the already massive hole. The hangar began to sway and buckle from
the lack of support.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” he almost purred.
With practiced speed and efficiency, Masters took control and began
to stomp and blast away at the undead UDC troops. “Come on! Move,
move, move!” he yelled into his com.

“Go! I’ve got you covered!” the Rookie
yelled, slapping a fourth clip into his carbine. “Move ass!”

Jay sprinted to the salvage mech and
clambered up the leg.

***

Tears fell down June’s cheeks and dripped
from her chin into her stew, but she didn’t notice as she took bite
after bite.

The Boss laughed heartily. “Awww, I was
looking forward to Mech Pilot stew. Oh, well, she made her choice.
Let’s eat!”

The villagers cheered subserviently, none of
them truly overjoyed by the Boss’s game, but all glad they could
finally feed their bellies after a long night’s confinement and a
hard day’s work.

Olivia began to reach out for June, but the
Boss grabbed her arm and pulled her away, leaving June alone with
her torturous meal.

***

Jay punched a massive fist into the Foggy
Bottom pavement, crushing a dozen UDC troops at once.

“Climb aboard, kid!” he yelled to the
Rookie, who was already slinging his carbine and dashing to the
salvage mech.

The Rookie gripped the massive fist and hung
on tight as Jay brought it up to cockpit level.

“Let’s get the fuck out-AAAAAHHH!” the
Rookie yelped as a bullet tore through his chest. He collapsed
halfway into the cockpit, forcing Jay to grab a hold and pull him
the rest of the way in.

“Kid! Are you okay?” Jay cried.

“Yeah, just go!”

***

Rachel and Harlow’s mechs stood before the
mech base’s hangar doors, the transport behind them with Bisby’s
mech taking up the rear.

“Open them up, Jethro,” Capreze ordered,
seated at the transport controls.

“Yes, sir,” Jethro responded, already making
the key strokes necessary to override the base’s storm protocols.
Even though the worst of the waste storm had passed, the wind that
whipped into the hangar buffeted and shook the mechs and
transport.

“Stay alert and stay tight,” Capreze called
over the com. “Pilots? Let’s move out.”

The mechs and transport stepped and rolled
from the base, into the wasteland.

“Sensor readings are getting clearer, Bishop
Wyble.”

“Thank you, Deacon Montoya. And what can
those sensor readings tell us?” Bishop Wyble asked, seated directly
behind Deacon Montoya as the man drove the Rancher transport
towards the mech base.

“Very little, your Eminence,” Deacon Montoya
responded. “The storm interference is still quite a bit. We can see
that the base has full power and does not appear to have suffered
any damage as a result of the waste storm.”

“Well, that is fortunate. The Archbishop
would not be pleased to have the new seat of his diocese ruined,”
said the Bishop.

***

“Reverend Stemple? Please report,” Bishop
Wyble called over the Rancher com.

“Yes, Your Eminence. The convoy is in
perfect order. All transports are ready for the conversion of the
mech base,” Reverend Stemple replied.

“And our new friends? How are they
faring?”

Reverend Stemple glanced at the UDC trooper
driving the transport. “Cooperating nicely, Your Grace. All
transports report the same.”

“Excellent. God will make you a True
Disciple upon your Change. Carry on His work, Reverend. God
bless.”

“Thank you, Bishop Wyble. I am at His and
Your service.”

The Reverend glanced again at the UDC driver
and shivered.

***

The dead mech lumbered across the wasteland,
past mesas and bluffs, over hillsides. This dead mech did not
think, did not reason, it truly was an extension of its zombie
pilot.

Cresting a hill, the deader spotted the
Rancher convoy and its starving, undead pilot thrashed about the
cockpit, bloodlust and hunger driving it into a frenzy.

The dead mech ran towards the transports,
towards fresh meat.

From long dead training, it raised its
50mms, but to no effect, the ammunition having run out years
ago.

The guns clicked empty as the dead mech bore
down on the rear transport.

***

“Masters?” Jay called over the com. “The
kid’s in bad shape.”

“I’m…fine,” the Rookie said between ashen
lips, as he held a compression bandage to his chest. “Keep
moving…”

“No, you aren’t fucking fine!” Jay shouted.
“We need to stop so I can look at that wound!”

“See that bluff over there? Due east? Half
mile out?” Masters asked.

“Yeah, I see it,” Jay responded.

“We can take up a defensive position there
so you can check out the Razor,” Masters said.

“Don’t… call… me… Razor… asshole,” the
Rookie growled, coughing.

“Good, you still have some fight,” Masters
laughed.

***

“We have an incoming Demon, Reverend
Stemple,” Reverend Hilldebrand called over the com. “Less than 100
yards behind us and closing fast.”

Reverend Stemple turned to the UDC driver.
“Show me,” he ordered.

Stone faced and without response, the driver
tapped at his console, bringing up the rear most transports vid
feed. The feed showed a dead mech bearing down on the rear
transport, arms raised, ready to attack.

“Transport Gamma Three? Do you have a lock
on the Demon approaching?” Reverend Stemple called.

“Yes, Reverend.”

“Release your disciples and let us send the
abomination back to Hell.”

“Yes, Reverend.”

***

“Reverend Hilldebrand? This is Transport
Gamma Three. Bless you for alerting us to the Demon presence. We
can handle it from here,” Deacon Williams reported over the
com.

“Of course, Deacon. It is my honor and
duty,” Reverend Hilldebrand responded.

“Anoint the Demon, Sister,” Deacon Williams
ordered his driver, a young Rancher woman.

“Yes, Deacon. It is my honor and duty,” the
driver responded, tapping at her console.

Deacon Williams watched on the vid as
cannons fired gallons of blood and offal upon the pursuing dead
mech.

“Demon anointed, sir.”

“Very good, Sister. Release the disciples.
God bless each one.”

***

The main rear cargo hatch of Transport Gamma
Three opened wide and dozens of zombies spilled out. Their feeding
instincts kicked in immediately as the smell of the blood and offal
that “anointed” the dead mech wafted over them.

Nearly six dozen zombies swarmed the dead
mech, believing that there was more to it than just a coating of
human fluids.

The dead mech stumbled from the onslaught of
the zombies, but they were not heavy enough to fully bring the
machine down. It began to fling deaders about the wasteland,
attempting to defend itself while still pursuing the
transports.

***

“Has the Demon been dispatched to Hell?”
Bishop Wyble asked.

“Deacon Williams here, Your Grace. The
disciples have been released upon the abomination, but they do not
seem to have strength enough to bring the Demon down,” answered
Deacon Williams over the com.

“Hmmm,” Bishop Wyble mused. “I’d hate to
lose more disciples. Deacon Williams?”

“Yes, Your Eminence?”

“Do you have any more cargo of
importance?”

“No, Your Grace. We’re only carrying
disciples.”

“And crew? How many?”

“Um, myself, Sister Elizabeth and two
disciple handlers, Your Grace.”

“Excellent! Then I declare martyrdom for you
all! Glory is to be yours!”

***

Deacon Williams blanched. “Martyrdom, Your
Grace?”

“Yes, Deacon Williams. Today I give you the
greatest honor short of becoming a True Disciple! Do you not
agree?” Bishop Wyble answered over the com.

“Of course I agree, Your Grace. You have
truly bestowed a great honor upon us.”

“And your families, of course. They shall be
well provided for.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Blessings be upon you and your crew, Deacon
Williams.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” the Deacon severed
the com connection. “Turn us about Sister. We shall send the Demon
to Hell ourselves. And wipe those tears from your eyes!”

***

The dead mech flung the last of the zombies
to the dirt, stomping and crushing as many as possible without
breaking stride. Despite the attack of the zombies it had gained
ground. The smell of the blood still coating its structure sent it
into a frenzy and it doubled its pursuit.

One of the transports split form the convoy
and turned directly at the deader. The dead mech was momentarily
puzzled then the bloodlust overcame it and it charged straight at
the transport.

The transport began to fire all of its
weapons at the deader, but within seconds they collided.

***

Bishop Wyble watched the collision of the
dead mech and transport on the vid screen. A massive explosion
resulted sending a fireball thirty yards into the air. The Bishop
clapped loudly.

“Spectacular! The Heavens surely saw that
demonstration of faith!” he called out.

“Yes, Your grace. Those Rancher souls will
have a special place in Heaven, thanks to your Eminence’s charity
of Martyrdom bestowed upon them,” Deacon Montoya said.

“Careful, Deacon. Flattery will get you
everywhere!” the Bishop chuckled. “Now, what progress have we made
with the sensor readings of the heathen mech base?”

“Unfortunately, nothing more yet, Your
Grace.”

***

“Just hold on, kid, we’re almost to the
bluff,” Jay said. “Masters will cover our asses while I patch you
up.”

“I’m… I’m fine,” the Rookie grunted. “I’ve
been through worse.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’ve been through
worse. You keep saying that, but one day
worse
is going to
turn into
dead
and I’m going to do my best to make sure
today isn’t that day.”

The Rookie grimaced from the pain. “Okay,
Jay. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. You were the one
that saved mine and Masters’ asses back in Foggy Bottom, so it’s
the least I can do.”

***

“ETA, Deacon Montoya?” Bishop Wyble
asked.

“If the storm maintains the same speed as
now? Approximately an hour or two,” the Deacon responded.

“Splendid, Deacon, that is just splendid.”
The Bishop angled his seat back and covered his face with a cloth.
“Wake me when we are in sight of the base, if you will, Deacon. Or
unless we get any new sensor readings.”

“Yes, Your Grace. It would be my
pleasure.”

“What would?”

“Your Grace?”

“What would be your pleasure, Deacon?”

“To wake you, Your Grace.”

“Well, of course it would be! All for honor
and duty, Deacon Montoya!”

***

“Fucking hold still!” Jay yelled as he
probed the Rookie’s bullet wound. “I can’t see shit with all this
blood and your fucking wiggling!”

“I’m… trying… OW, FUCK! To… be… still…” the
Rookie groaned.

Jay splashed a generous amount of antiseptic
into the wound and blotted it with gauze. “Shit! I’m gonna need to
cut into there.”

“Do you… have… a scalpel?” the Rookie
asked.

“No,” Jay said. “But I have a diamond point
laser blade. Sorry about this, kid.”

Jay fired up the handheld tool, its tip
glowing red. He pressed a button and the laser began to slice.

***

“Hey guys?” Masters called over the com.

“Not now, Masters!” Jay barked.

“Yeah, I understand, just listen.” Masters
double-checked his sensor readings. “We have two more problems.
First, it looks like we have a waste storm heading right for us.
We’ve got maybe two hours. Second, we are going to have company in
less than an hour. We’ve been tracked. UDC transports are on their
way right now if these readings are right.”

Masters listened to the Rookie’s groans and
Jay’s curses over the com.

“Okay. Right. You’re busy. I can handle
this,” Masters said to no one in particular.

***

“Leave me,” the Rookie croaked. “Get your
asses back to base. They need to know about Foggy Bottom.”

“Nice try, but I ain’t going anywhere. And,
since we’re about to have a fight on our hands, I can guarantee
Masters isn’t going, either. He’d never miss a fight,” Jay
responded.

Gripping the pair of pliers plunged deep
into the Rookie’s chest, Jay gave a hard tug and was rewarded with
a wet pop. He held the pliers up to the Rookie’s face. “Plus, I
just found the bullet, so we’re good…as soon as I cauterize the
wound.” The Rookie moaned.

***

“Any ETA on when we can get the fuck out of
here?” Masters yelled over the com. “Because I’m talking minutes
before the UDC are… Never mind. They just crested the hill.”

Masters readied his weapons systems, double
checked his energy reserves and prepped for the fight.