Machine God: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (18 page)

“What did you say?”

Nathan's head moved a breath away from my grimace, so I launched my forehead into his and made him tumble backwards. It caused a second of confusion among the diggers and let me slip out of the chokehold with force. The guy to my left said ‘damn’ and received a well-placed punch as a thank you. I evaded a rising fist from the right guy and launched a roundhouse kick that sent him into his beat’em up buddy. 

“I hate to do this, but I’m not getting shellacked. I did nothing wrong.”

I didn’t know why I was even defending myself verbally. 

No one cared about my words.

“Hey, stop it.”

The superior arrived at the exact moment when I was in charge of the fight.

I was starting to believe the entire day had been a setup to stick it back to me.

Two soldiers pushed their armored bodies between me and my co-diggers.

The superior whistled and wiped his finger like an overprotective parent.

With dick issues.

“Tss, tss, here I was, lecturing you all on watching your energy and saving resources, and the first thing you do is start a fight.”

“If you hadn’t been so busy enjoying your premium feast, you would have seen that it wasn’t me who started the brawl.”

The superior walked up to me.

His smug face a breeze away from my nose.

“Attitude won’t get you anywhere. You should have learned that by now. Chief Orden won’t be pleased to see you fail in the most basic service."

He exposed his impeccable teeth and grimaced with the most punch-able face I had ever seen.

“You’re in a world of trouble, my boy.”

“I was the second your bullshit Bulwark captured me.”

Some of the diggers grinned.

Some others oohed in awe.

But the superior, he ground his teeth. 

“No rations and no water for you until the end of the day. Get back to work or I beat you to it.”

53

No ration.

No water.

But endless rays of unrelenting sun.

Shining through the holes of the factory's ceiling, simmering me like fried rat.

I stirred up more trash and felt the blood caking around my nose.

The sweat and dust layer on my skin itched again.

I wanted to take off my gloves and scratch every part of my body, but with one of the soldiers watching me exclusively, that was a no-go. 

So I bit my lips and focused on finding something—anything—of value to the Bulwark. 

Minute for minute.

Hour for hour. 

No ration.

No water.

My throat groaned. Every swallow of spit hurt.

I became so desperate I licked off the sweat from my skin.

But I ventured on.

Rummaged till my fingers felt numb under the weight of the gloves. 

Up in the ceiling's holes, I saw the faint firmament glowing loud and proud.

Didn't know why, but every time my gaze turned skywards, hope washed over me. Something up there gave me confidence to soldier on.

To make it through the day.

To hope for a better tomorrow.

54

“Comrade, what happened to you?”

The nurse, inspecting me back at one of the Bulwark’s medstations.

Right after I finished the shift that lasted a day too long, I schlepped my bruised and battered body to one of the medical stations. The superior ordered me to, so that I could start the next day with replenished energy.

Starting the sun-burned digging again.

Wasn't looking forward to that, but now I lay on the stretcher and spread out my limbs. The nurse in the grey uniform checked my stats and eyed me. 

“You’re dehydrated and bruised. Not to mention your ‘suntan’ that’s on the verge of a 1st degree burn. I thought you were part of the digging group, or did you get into a fire fight?”

“Let’s just say I like to be a team player, but the team players don’t like me.”

She nodded, applied some soothing cream on my skin and wiped the crusted blood from my mouth area. 

I closed my eyes and enjoyed her gentle hands taking care of me.

Arguably the most relaxing activity I’ve received since Ceedee found me in that torn-apart pod from the city ruins.

“Please don’t ever stop,” I said to the nurse while she dabbed the blood pieces off.

“I’m afraid at some point, I have to.”

“At some point, but not now,” I said with a tired smile. 

My arms rested on the stretcher, my mind paid only partial attention to the surrounding. 

Jeez. 

It was the first day at the digging site, and I was already beaten in every way. How in the world was I supposed to last for two years? 

I better not think about it.

The nurse gave me another injection and wrapped up my arm with a bandaid.

“So, that’s it for now. With your health, you should heal in no time.”

"Maybe I should rest for a week and restart. I feel worn out, nurse."

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. The Bulwark needs everyone.”

Same sentence I heard since my imprisonment. 

“Why?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why is the Bulwark obsessed with collecting survivors. What’s the higher goal?”

“To survive, of course.”

Mmm, I wasn’t sure anymore, but I brushed the topic aside. Frankly, I was too tired to argue anymore. My body wanted to sink into the ground. The nurse said,

“I'll leave you alone now, is that alright with you?"

“Yeah. Thanks. For everything.”

“It’s my job.”

“I know.”

Still. 

Part of me wanted to believe she fostered me because she actually cared. 

The other part knew she was yet another serf in the cluster.

Like me.

And everyone I knew.

The second the nurse stepped out and the door shut, my eyelids closed. I was ready to drift away and welcome my much-needed relaxation, but there was no rest for the rabble-rouser. 

“Rookie, are you still awake?”

That voice sounded familiar. 

Young and scratchy.

“It’s me, Glitch.”

The tech kid with the loose finger on the trigger.

Here in my medstation, welcoming me with an upbeat mood. What a refreshing change.

“Hey, Glitch.”

“Hey man.”

He turned toward my bed and gasped. Covered his mouth and widened his boyish eyes.

“Man, you look like shit.”

“Thanks. You look pretty swell yourself.”

“I’m sorry, I heard what happened. The gossip’s running wild 'round the cluster."

“Yeah, what can I say. Our survivors in the mall didn’t appreciate their new life. Can’t blame them. I had different dreams as well.”

Glitch nodded patiently, but I could tell he wasn’t here to chit-chat.

“What’s up? How did you get here?”

“I heard you got beaten up pretty badly. That’s why I came by. Just wanted to see how you were doing."

“Do you even have the permission to visit me?”

He grinned like a boy who pulled off the trick of a lifetime.

“You know I’m good with tech, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, let’s say someone found his way into the medstation service schedule and pulled off the nurse taking care of you. Leaving me a nice buffer time to visit you.”

“You can do that?”

“That and more. I can’t shoot straight, but when you need computer assistance, I’m your man.”

“Good to know.”

Passionate kiddo. Probably the most optimistic person in the entire cluster. Maybe it was his youth, or the fascination for technology, that kept the young man euphoric in this sun-scorched world.

Glitch said,

“Listen. I know you feel like the world’s ending, but you have fans out there. People talk about your first mission and how you single-handedly stormed the Technoid-infested skyscraper ruin. They think you're some kind of hero."

“They?”

“Regular folks. Soldiers, workers, people like you and me.”

“I’m a digger now.”

He nodded.

“You’re bringing people hope, so please, don’t give up." 

He moved closer and whispered. 

“BTW—are you still looking for that brunette, you know, Nathan's daughter?”

“Yeah. I need to talk to her.”

Glitch winked at me. 

“In need of a little active romance?”

“It’s not like that. I need to ask her personal questions. She may know something about my past. Or at least about the world's mystery."

“Gotcha. Well. Here’s a little spoiler alert: the brunette's called Ann-Lyze. Probably not her real name, but everyone calls her that. She works in the R&D department. But lately, she’s been spotted at the digging sites."

My curiosity surged. 

“Why is that?”

“Apparently she knows a lot about the technological artifacts from the Great Collision. You know, the event where everything turned to the shizz we live in now.”

He paused for dramatic effect.

“She’s joining some of the digger dispatches to inspect their findings on location. With a little tech magic of mine, I can put you into the roster of her dispatches."

“Really. You would do that?”

“Yes. Dude, I told you. I’m a fan of yours.”

“Can you put Nathan into one of her dispatches as well?”

“Are you sure it’s the right thing? I mean, the old man and his goons just beat you up."

“They’re not goons. Just survivors who envisioned a better world. He wants to see his daughter, let’s give him that opportunity.”

“If you say so.”

Glitch looked up.

“The camera’s still offline, but I better return to my cell and reactivate these suckers. Maintenance cycles usually don’t last that long.”

“You do that.”

He pranced back to the door.

“Glitch, thanks.”

“De nada, comrade.”

He shot me two peace signs.

“Don’t let the system bring you down.”

55

Glitch had spoken the truth and pulled off his tech tricks.

When I entered the hangar for my next shift, I was assigned to the dispatch with brunette Ann-Lyze and her father, Nathan. 

They looked at each other in silence and shared emotional stares that words couldn’t describe. They were one step away from jump-hugging each other, but with the superior and his guards around, they had to remain composed. 

I counted nine diggers today. We all stood in line and waited for the superior’s commands.

“You’re lucky bastards. Thanks to an emerging sandstorm later this afternoon, we have to cut your shift in half.”

Some diggers actually sighed in satisfaction. Five hours in the Lost Lands sounded almost like a holiday. I was probably the least excited—five hours meant fewer or no breaks at all, and thus lowered the chances of chatting up Ann-Lyze.

Still, I had to try.

The superior continued.

“We’re joined today by the magnificent Ann-Lyze. She’s a recent survivor that one of our recon teams had found. Ann-Lyze is doing wonderful work in R&D. So mind-boggling, it's going to impact our future and maybe help us gain a technological advantage. She’ll supervise our digging today and hopes to find some treasure from the past. We’re talking tech artifacts.”

Tech artifacts. 

That term again. I had no idea what they meant by that—rusty rifles and broken vehicle pieces from the past? But why would the Bulwark desire that trash?

As always, I kept the questions to myself.

The superior told the driver to roll out the APC.

We adjusted our digging gear, walked inside in a straight line. I ended up sitting opposite of Ann-Lyze, her father Nathan two seats to her left. The old man avoided me today and focused only on his daughter.

The geezer’s eyes glowed every time they made contact with his daughter's.

All thanks to me. 

I wish I could tell him.

But one of the guards sat next to me, which meant I had to shut up for the rest of the ride. We targeted yet another ruined part of the abandoned city. The APC ventured into the sun ocean of the Lost Lands.

I braced myself for a day with answers.

56

Location: some sun-bleached ruin in the industrial sector. Honestly, they all looked alike. Forsaken structures sinking into the golden ground, devoured by the blinding yellow sand. 

I already hated that landscape, just as much as I hated it when the superior opened his mouth.

“Remember, you got only five hours before the sandstorm blows this city. For the sake of your future, find something valuable, or the storm will be the least of your worries."

He walked up Ann-Lyze and rested his arm on her shoulder. She wrestled with her mouth and forced herself to look pleased. She was having trouble tolerating the guy. 

I could relate. 

150%.

The superior said,

“Make this lady proud. She wants to work on some artifacts later on."

No one in the digger group cared, except for old Nathan. 

But then again, he was a bit biased.

Being the estranged father and all.

Our dispatch spread out in the ruins and sang.

“We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig from early morn' till night

We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig up everything in sight

We dig up artifacts by the score

A thousand times, sometimes more

We dig dig dig a-dig dig..."

Couldn't stand this verbal vomit anymore. 

We all moved toward the rubble places that were assigned at the mission start. I picked up the first chunks of dusted concrete and pretended to work.

Once in a while, I flicked a glance at Ann-Lyze when the guards looked at another direction. She walked around the perimeter with the superior glued to her left side. She inspected the digging site, picked up pieces and made notes on her datapad.

Damn.

If she remained guarded, there was no way I could ignite a conversation. Maybe I could find a chit-chat moment when our first little break happened. Something to keep this dick of a superior distracted. My eyes returned to the trash rubble that infested the space around me. During my first shift, I had found some vehicle parts and a couple of ancient rifles eaten by the rust. The superiors weren’t pleased, but they didn’t scold me either. They blamed the lack of discovery on my newcomer status but today, I’d better deliver something great. The minutes turned into an hour, the hour turned into two. It was right before the first and probably last break when the superior came my way with the expression of a thug.