Machine God: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (22 page)

“Well,” the soldier continued, “they kept raving about your skyscraper sweep. Gossip says you took down eight Technoids single-handedly, even a heavy with a pulsar rifle.”

“That's about right.”

He whistled.

“That’s unheard of. Technoids are superior to Bulwark's soldiers. Not to mention their impressive war technology.”

“Guess I was just lucky.”

“Luck and Technoid encounter don’t combine. You either are strong enough to survive or you get taken down. There's no middle."

I threw him a look but he didn’t react. 

“We better watch out. This floor has no windows.”

That was true. The wall-sized windows had been blown away. Fresh, sandy air streamed into the hall and brushed the dust from the concrete pillars. The sun burned the city’s skyline into a golden taint. We advanced to a pillar and overwatched the city ruins.

The view was mesmerizing.

Skyscraper and houses scratched at the sizzling sky, the wind whistled through the concrete jungle and played its freaky melody. 

“Welcome to the Lost Lands,” the soldier said.

“It looks almost peaceful.”

“All graveyards do.”

In the far distance, I observed crimson smearing on the concrete plates of the ruinous buildings. 

“Almighty machine god, praise be upon him.”

“Merge with the machine.”

“Rid yourself of sin. Take off your skin.”

Yikes.

Either the Technoids had a sick sense of humor, or were simply sick. 

I said,

“What do they want?”

“Technoids?”

“Yeah.”

“Rejoice with the machine god, I guess.”

“And then?”

“Create a new kind of humanity. They deeply believe that merging with the machines is the next step of godlike evolution."

“Evolution and religion? Mmm, last time I checked, these two didn’t go together too well.”

“I guess you have to believe to really understand it.”

We just glanced at the ocean of bleached buildings laying in front of us. 

The view was both chilling and astonishing. The ruined city carried a morbid atmosphere that got under your skin.

For better or worse.

My glance rotated around the skyline and stopped at a skewed skyscraper ruin.

Something blinked and caught my attention.

With eyes narrowed, I tried to identify the object on the tenth floor far away.

The sunlight was so bright, I faced difficulty spotting the details.

Something moved, but maybe it was the heat playing tricks on me.

My arm hairs erected, my stomach cringed.

“What’s the matter?” the soldier said.

“I don’t know…do you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“Something’s changed in the atmosphere.”

“I don’t feel a thing.”

But I did.

Inside of me, the cells tingled.

The glow on the far away skyscraper increased.

I threw myself against the soldier and pushed him against the nearby concrete pillar. Just in time when the beam impacted the ground next to us.

66

Little energetic javelins ripped through the distance.

Burned the air around its trajectory. 

Hit the ground before us.

And made the Bulwark soldier pant behind the cover.

“What’s going on?”

“We’ve been spotted by a Technoid sniper.”

“Where?”

“Fourteenth floor, the skewed skyscraper, about four hundred meters away, 9 o’clock.”

“Shit.”

“You can say that.”

We pushed ourselves against the concrete surface of the pillar.

“If he spotted us, he might call backup. This place is soon going to get swarmed by Technoids.”

“Yeah. We have to warn the others.”

I held out my hand.

Half a second later, the energy javelin ripped through the pillar and blew pieces apart. Four hit my faces and made me cough.

“He’s good. Really good.”

“All Technoids are,” the soldier said.

My heart hammered.

The adrenaline rushed through my veins.

Attention surged.

I entered battle mode.

“We have to run down the stairs.”

“How? It’s at least fifty meters away, and the floor has no cover spots against the incoming fire."

He paused.

"It’s a damn free-for-all shoot fest.”

The soldier was unfortunately right. With the windows and walls of the floor gone, the Technoid had a clear vision and could headshot us once we left the cover.

But we had to do something. 

I reached out my right foot and attracted another javelin zap. The staccato beam blasted the concrete ground next to us and whirled the dust around like a mini-tornado.

Which gave me an idea.

“I need your flashbang.”

“Why?”

“We’re going to obscure the sniper’s field of vision.”

“Trust me. This once.”

The soldier finally came to his common sense. He snatched the cylinder-shaped explosive from his armordillo and handed it over. I primed the grenade, waited for another javelin impact and rolled the flashbang into the hallway. 

Turned away.

Bang.

A smoke explosion wiped through the floor, tornado’d up the thick dust and drowned the section into fog.

“You’re a genius,” the soldier said.

“We’ll see if we get out of this alive. Now run. And avoid straight lines.”

“Roger.”

We blasted from our cover when the smoke dust mix reached its highest density. The dust particles flooded my mouth and nostrils. My lungs ignored the urge to cough. 

“Run, run.”

The air heated up. The energy javelins burned through the white smoke and cooked the space around it. One shot blew apart our next cover spot. The Bulwark soldier had trouble keeping up with me. 

No time for rest.

I said,

“Only twenty meters. Hurry.”

“You keep talking. I’m wearing heavy armor.”

Another zap tore up the ground a meter behind me. 

How could the shooter see us through the smoke? Did he wear some kind of thermal vision device? 

No time to find out.

We reached the staircase. I pulled the soldier into the secure zone and dashed down the steps. 

“We have to warn the others.”

The soldier simply nodded.

Third floor.

Run like hell.

Second floor. 

Run like you never ran before.

Transition to first floor. 

Twenty steps below, the lobby came into view. Not a tad too late.

“Almost there,” the soldier said.

He followed my shadow when a beam tore through the wall next to us. The rubble slammed into our faces, dust and concrete pieces bounced off our gears. Either the sniper carried wall-see-through vision, or another Technoid had located our position.

Either way, we were in danger.

One wrong step, and we'd end up as burned meat with dust flavor. 

67

“What’s happening?”

Ann-Lyze right there, jumping up from the bench and staring at us with a shocked and sweaty face.

“The Technoids have located us. We have to leave this perimeter ASAP.”

The diggers aroused next.

Everyone's tiredness vaporized in a second.

“But go where? This entire sector maybe infested.”

The digger was right, which reduced our options.

The loathed alternative came to mind.

“We’ll return to the tunnels.”

A second of bewilderment captured everyone. 

Awed faces wherever I looked.

“It’s our only alternative. Out here, we’re deadmeat. Underground, we’re at least protected from sniper fire.”

No one objected, not even the soldier.

“If you say so.”

The diggers grabbed Nathan from the bench and followed me. We escaped the lobby, entered through the very wall hole we came through and found ourselves back in the trash-piled alley. The digger pointed toward the main road that glistened on the other end.

“That’s the shortest way to the underground entrance."

“But that exposes us to the sniper fire."

Hesitation in the group. 

My commcuff showed me the map of the known surrounding. I calculated a new one that would lead around the main streets. Long, but necessary. The group followed me and stayed close. We hurried, but with the diggers carrying old Nathan, our speed dwindled.

“Leave me, I’m only holding you back,” he said with a weakened voice.

Ann-Lyze protested.

“No way. We’re not leaving you behind.”

The diggers wrestled with their faces.

An hour ago, they would have agreed with Ann-Lyze.

But with their strength fading, and the Technoids lurking in the area, the 'no man left behind' narrative started to crumble.

Still, I pressed on.

“Remember, guys. Zigzag lines. We want to avoid being an easy target."

“Easy to say when you don’t carry anything,” one of the diggers said.

My fears came true. 

The frustration grew with every step.

Nathan sent me a defeated smile.

As if to say, it’s okay, son.

Well, it wasn’t. 

I kicked open a half-broken window and helped everyone inside. The location of the hatch to the underground was burned into my membrane. I knew every step by heart, even without the map of the commcuff. The diggers dreaded every new obstacle and rested near a wall.

This was not the time to slow down, but I couldn’t scold them.

Ann-Lyze sent me a glance devoid of hope.

Even she realized what was about to happen.

I should have said, it’s going to be alright.

But we knew better.

“Come on, let’s go.”

We continued our route.

When we traversed a ground floor with wide windows, a blast broke through and shattered the glass. Shreds pierced the air and bounced off my gear. 

One of the diggers stumbled, dropped Nathan's legs and hit the rubble with his back. 

A beam had blown a hole into the man’s stomach. One last shiver before the blood vaporized from the heat and the eyes of the digger closed forever.

Farewell, friend.

Damn.

“Keep your heads down.”

Me and Ann-Lyze helped up the last digger, the younger one.

“I carry Nathan.”

“No,” the young man said.

“He’s slowing us down. He's a risk to our team. We already lost Smedge.”

The name of the elderly digger that just died.

“Shut up,” Ann-Lyze said.

The anger cooked her eyes. 

Thankfully, she didn't break out. 

We couldn't afford to lose it now.

The soldier patted my shoulder and spoke with the calmest voice.

“Hate to disrupt your little discussion, but there's a hostile approaching from six o’clock.”

I craned my neck toward his mentioned direction. At first, I only saw the end of the corridor, but then a humanoid silhouette advanced from the hideout. The organic carapace armor adapted to the concrete and betrayed the shooter’s position. 

The yell blasted from my lungs.

“Everyone, heads down.”

They scrambled for cover. I rolled sideways, threw myself against the nearby wall. The Bulwark soldier ducked near the opposite pile of rubble.

Anger roared in my mouth.

“You got the gun. What the hell are you waiting for?”

“15mm against Technoid armor? You’re kidding.”

The Technoid wasn’t. 

He carried some kind of energy-based repeater gun and sent an energetic volley at our directions. The stacks penetrated the walls and blew our cover apart. 

“Give me the gun.”

“It’s useless,” the soldier said.

“Give me the damn gun.”

He finally relented and threw the Dust Viper over the pile. The firearm rotated on the ground and bounced off my wall. 

Come back to me, baby. 

With the Dust Viper 15mm in my hand, I peeked around the corner. The Technoid shooter hunkered down on the opposite side. Moved around his barricade and released a new wave of energy blasts.

“Distract him,” I said to the soldier.

He shrugged but followed my command. For a split-second, he shot up from his cover with a loud yell and distracted the Technoid.

I rolled from my cover, aimed the Viper at the target, now exposed. 

The Technoid stood at least twenty-three meters away, but his organic face shield appeared to be right in front of me. An invisible hand guided my arm and squeezed the trigger. 

The round ripped through the air.

This moment.

I forgot myself.

The fear and the danger.

Only I and the bolt remained.

It penetrated the Technoid’s face shield and shattered the front of his helmet. He staggered on the spot, which gave me enough time to send two new rounds into his shielded face.

The Technoid finally collapsed.

And I breathed in.

“Everyone, get moving.”

The young digger, the soldier and Ann-Lyze crawled from their cover. We carried Nathan and ventured on with sweat and sand smearing our skin. The Bulwark soldier approached the dead Technoid.

“I can’t believe it. You hit the scout right in the face. Three times."

“I can give you an autograph later, but right now we have to motor.”

He rotated to our direction and rejoined the group.

“Take his weapon,” one of the diggers said. 

A good idea, except the firearm was his actual arm. 

It was hard to see where the armor began and the skin ended. 

Twisted Technoid.

We rushed outside, entered another back alley.

Fifty meters in front of us stood the hatch leading to the underground tunnels.

In the middle of a wide open street.  

68

Doomed if you do.

Doomed if you don’t.

The glorious goal awaited us.

Together with the exposure to gunfire. 

Today’s weather forecast: sunny, with a chance of headshots.

“What now?” the Bulwark soldier said.

“You suddenly listen to my commands?”

“You just headshot a Technoid with reinforced armor. I’ll listen to whatever you say from now on.”

And thus, I earned the trust of the military comrade.