Wasteland Rules: Born to Fight (The World After Book 2) (17 page)

BOOK: Wasteland Rules: Born to Fight (The World After Book 2)
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Chapter 23

 June 21, 2029

 Hartsfield-Jackson Airport Atlanta, GA

   Derek started to scream for them to get back in
the vehicles, that it was a trap; but he was too late. There was a metallic
twang followed by loud whirring noises as three circular saw blades suddenly
flew through the air from one of the piles of junk. They buzz-sawed into one of
the soldiers and he went down in a bloody mess. The others reacted by trying to
form a perimeter around the techs, but it didn’t do much good.

    Human forms burst out of their concealment in
the junk piles firing odd weapons. Their attackers were hairless men covered in
metal plates that seemed to be riveted onto their flesh and had body parts that
had been replaced by robotic or machine parts. At first he thought they were
Humeks, but Derek quickly realized they were Machineheads; members of the Cult
of the Machine, wannabe cyborgs that worshipped Doors and the perfection of the
machine.

    One of them fired some sort of rail gun
contraption that used rebar pieces as ammo. The makeshift bolt punched through
the armor the captain was wearing and knocking him down. Without his direction
the soldiers broke and ran. Screaming metal clad madmen chased them and the
battle broke into chaos. Derek grabbed Rora and headed for the relative safety
of the MRAP. As they ran he fired his M4 carbine at several approaching
cyborgs. Rora followed his lead as they raced to the armored vehicle. The
rounds mostly bounced off the cyborg’s metal plates, but the volume of fire
drove them back.

   When they reached the MRAP they discovered that
the soldiers inside had panicked and locked the doors. Derek banged on the
vehicle and yelled at them, but no one inside would unlock the doors. He and
Rora were trapped outside the vehicle. At least the soldiers inside got over
their stunned inactivity and opened fire with the machine gun. They mowed down
several of the cyborgs, the heavy .50 cal rounds easily penetrating the
makeshift armor of the attackers.

   That didn’t last long though. Derek heard the
launch of several missiles and pulled Rora down to the ground and covered her
seconds before the missiles struck the MRAP. The armored vehicle was catapulted
over them by the blasts and rolled over several times before coming to a rest
on its side. The vehicle was a smoking wreck and everyone inside was surely
dead. Derek looked up and saw a large cyborg holding a type of missile launcher
he had never seen before. Before the enemy could reload Derek put a single
round through the scope-like eyepiece the freak had in place of his right eye.

   Derek wasn’t sure where the other MRAP was, but
the remaining soldiers and techs had scattered and were taking cover behind
piles of junk, planes, and the transporter. A few had formed small groups and
were fighting back to back. Cyborgs were now swarming all over the area, there
must be at least thirty of them. They had a wide variety of homebrew weapons,
ranging from jagged axes made from scrap to projectile weapons. All of the
weapons were attached in some way to their bodies.

   The Machineheads had very few guns but were using
projectile weapons that threw circular saw blades and rebar pieces with
alarming velocity. Those projectiles were punching and slicing through armor
with ease. Their metal body armor was protecting them from the worst of the
gunfire, and they were slowly overwhelming the outnumbered soldiers. Derek
heard the fwoosh of a flamethrower and watched a cyborg with flamethrowers on
each arm torch several soldiers and then ignite the wreckage of the MRAP. It
blew apart as the gas tank exploded, sending scrap flying.

    This was more than a simple ambush. No missile
in the current military arsenal should have been able to do that to an MRAP.
Add that to the unusual energy signature that had cloaked the ambushers. That
meant advanced tech was being used by crazed cultists. Their old friend from
the Collective must be behind this. Now that Derek focused, he could hear an
electronically enhanced voice exhorting the cyborgs to kill for their creator.
He needed to end this before all the techs were killed or the transporter
destroyed and they couldn’t get the shuttle.

  He finally spotted the source of the electronic
bellowing; a large man wearing a large powered exoskeleton. It looked like a
modified version of an orthotic suit originally designed to help paralyzed
people walk. The suit made the man stand almost nine feet high and consisted of
a network of metal spars all along his body that looked like they were bolted into
him similar to a Halo neck brace. Motors and a complicated pulley system helped
enhance the wearer’s strength, but limited their mobility. Armor had been added
for protection and large powered pincers had been added to the hands. Some sort
of contraption covered the leader’s face and included a large speaker on the
front.

   Taking out the leader would demoralize the rest
and then he could rally the troops. Derek gestured at the leader to Rora and
got up to attack. She screamed and he dodged just in time to avoid a buzzing
circular saw blade as it came down by his head. One of the cyborgs had snuck up
on them in the commotion and had almost decapitated Derek. This one was a very
large man with a large circular saw attached in place of his right arm. The
cultist recovered quickly and swung again at Derek’s head.

   Derek reacted without thinking and blocked with
the barrel of his carbine. The blade struck the barrel in a thunderous roar of
fiery sparks that showered both of them. The blow knocked Derek back slightly
but gave him room to aim the carbine. Just before he pulled the trigger he
realized the blade had cut most of the way through the stock and the barrel
rendering it unusable. Quickly reversing it, Derek used it as a club to block
another strike from the hulking cyborg. This blow cleanly sliced off the
folding stock and sent it flying. The blade must have been diamond tipped
because it was cutting through solid steel and vanadium.

    He stepped back to create distance and buy time.
He was afraid to do anything other than block because he could chance getting
cut. That blade would easily slice through flesh and bone. The cyborg smiled as
it advanced on him and the next blow would most likely slice his rifle in half.
Rora ended the debate by simply shooting the man point blank in the back of the
head with a burst from her carbine. Derek smiled; it was good to have someone
who had your back.

   He looked back to the cyborg leader and watched
him crush the skull of a wounded soldier and cast the body aside like a piece
of trash. Rora screamed in anger and rushed towards the monster. Crap, that
must have been the young soldier that she had been getting close to. He ran
after her but was cut off by two of the cultists. One had both of his hands
replaced with chainsaws which whirred menacingly and the other had blades
welded to the metal plates on his arms.

   Derek didn’t even hesitate. He pulled the sawed
off shotgun from the sheath on his back and unloaded a barrel in each of the
Machineheads’ faces, one after the other. They dropped with their heads blown
off, and Derek leaped over them to chase after Rora. But the slight delay had
enabled her to get to the cyborg leader in his massive exoskeleton. The monster
turned to face her and roared electronically, causing her to flinch.

    She held her ground though, and opened fire on
full auto. The monster raised his arm and the rounds ricocheted off of the
metal plated armor. Derek could hear the electronic laughing as the behemoth
stalked towards her. She frantically reloaded but couldn’t get the carbine back
up before the metal monster was upon her. She dodged the first swipe but was
caught by the backhand before Derek could get there to help her. The blow sent
her cartwheeling through the air to land on a pile of junk with a loud crash.

   The second MRAP arrived, distracting the cyborg
leader. It opened fire on a group of cyborgs with its heavy machine gun and its
heavier rounds penetrated their metal armor turning them into Swiss cheese. The
remaining soldiers rallied with the support of the armored vehicle. The tide
turned as they began to slaughter the engaged Machineheads. The cyborg leader
roared in anger and charged the armored fighting vehicle turning his followers
into bloody pulp. He reached a surprising speed and struck the side of the MRAP
with surprising force, creating a massive dent in the armor.

   The vehicle shuddered but didn’t flip and the
turret turned towards the new attacker. But the metal monster used its pincers
and strength to rip the turret right off the top of the armored vehicle
rendering it useless for combat. Then it grabbed the bent edge of the armor and
started to peel it off the vehicle trying to crack it open to reach the soft
targets inside. Metal screamed as a piece tore loose and the cult leader flung
it away. If Derek didn’t do something, the cyborg leader would dismantle the MRAP.

   A quick glance assured him that Rora was okay and
only stunned, and that nothing stood between him and the metal monstrosity. He
had reloaded the shotgun during the action and advanced towards the cyborg
leader. The sawed off had very short range and wasn’t going to do any damage
unless he could shoot that thing in the face. Which meant getting very close,
something that was unlikely to happen. He needed another way to kill or disable
the metal monster.

   Derek tried to think of something that would slow
this thing down. The heavy weapons were lost and he had nothing else that would
penetrate the metal armor attached to the exoskeleton. Then it hit him, metal
conducted electricity. He could cook the leader inside his suit if he could
just find a source of power. Another piece of armor flew as the cyborg leader
tore open a hole in the side of the stricken armored vehicle.

    The transporter sat almost untouched behind the
burning wreckage of the other MRAP and Derek saw the massive generator that sat
behind the vehicle’s cab. The generator was normally used to power the
shuttle’s internal systems when the engines were shut down. That allowed the
techs to work inside to prep for transportation. There were large power cables
that unspooled to connect with the shuttle, but they could be used to transfer
power to just about anything.

    Derek holstered the shotgun and drew his pistol.
He stopped about fifteen feet from the metal monster that was tearing the MRAP
apart piece by piece. Taking careful aim he peppered the back of the
exoskeleton’s head with fire from his Glock. The rounds bounced off but they
caught the monster’s attention. As the thing turned around to see who was
firing on him, Derek gave a rude gesture and ran towards the transporter.

     As he expected, the cyborg leader followed with
an enraged look on his face. The thunderous footsteps of the metal monster’s
steel feet shook the ground and sounded loudly in Derek’s ears, but he dared
not look back. He ran as fast as he could to the transporter and jumped up to
the generator. Feverishly working the controls, he fired it up as the cult
leader arrived. The leader swung a huge metal claw at him, but Derek leapt
aside. The monster cackled maniacally as it smashed its pincers repeatedly on
the giant vehicle as it tried to crush Derek.

    He scrambled under the vehicle and rolled to the
other side, buying precious seconds as the metal monstrosity was forced to
circle around the long vehicle. He grabbed one of the heavy power cables and
began to unspool it. The end was a giant rubber plug with the prongs well
inside, so he wasn’t sure how he was going to shock the cult leader with it. The
exoskeleton clad cultist rounded the vehicle and rushed him with surprising
speed. Derek tried to jab the metal arm with the plug as he dodged a pincer,
but failed and was almost smashed. He gave up on that and simply threw the
cable into the grasping pincher as it closed on him.

    As Derek dodged aside, the pincer closed on the
cable slicing through the heavy rubber sheath. As the metal of the pincer
contacted the now unprotected wire of the power cable a brilliant blue flash
occurred. There was a loud bang and a blast of concussive force of the initial
discharge knocked Derek down. The cyborg leader screamed horribly in electronic
pain as the electricity coursed through the frame and into his body. The
exoskeleton glowed as enough power to run a small town rippled through it. The
generator finally shorted out and the screaming stopped. Smoke rose from the
cooked body of the cyborg leader inside the fused and now useless exoskeleton.

    An eerie calm settled over the graveyard as the
surviving cyborgs fled the battlefield. Soldiers and techs lay dead or wounded
all around and the survivors were too exhausted to speak. Rora staggered over
to Derek, bleeding from minor wounds but otherwise okay. She wrinkled her nose
in disgust at the smell from the roasted cult leader. Derek got to his feet and
surveyed the damage. The battle had only lasted about fifteen minutes, but the
effects had been devastating. One MRAP was a smoking ruin and the other was
disabled. The transporter was okay but the generator was shot. Amazingly the
shuttle seemed completely undamaged. As long as a tech survived they could
probably get it on the transporter and all return to the NASA complex in it.

Chapter 24

June 21, 2029

Airplane Graveyard Hartsfield-Jackson Airport
Atlanta, GA

   The survivors regrouped next to the transporter.
Two of the techs had survived, both by hiding in a nearby plane. Neither one
was injured; they were just scared to death and were still shaking from the
encounter. The two soldiers from the disabled MRAP were unhurt, but only three
of the soldiers from the squad had survived and all three were seriously
wounded. One had a piece of rebar through his leg, another had been sliced
multiple places by saw blades, and the third had been burned by the
flamethrower. Derek and Rora tended to their wounds while the techs worked on
the shuttle. Even patched up, none of the three were combat ready; and only two
of them were conscious.

    A tech gestured to Derek to come over. When
Derek joined him the tech began to explain the situation in a low voice. “We
think we can get the shuttle onto the transporter since the winch has a different
power source than the generator. But with only two of us plus you it will take
some time to get it up. The ride back was always going to be slower because of
the weight, so it will probably take us nine hours to get back.”

   “What are you saying?” Derek asked.

   “There is no way we will get on the road for
another couple of hours at least. That means the trip back will have us
traveling at night through the wasteland. With the MRAPs it wasn’t that big of
a deal, but without protection we will be sitting ducks.” The tech replied
quietly. “And some of them will have to ride on the outside of the vehicle.”

   “So you want to wait here until morning?” Derek
asked. “I’m not sure it’s much safer here; there are still some cyborg cultists
out there running around.”

   “We could create a perimeter around the MRAP with
the soldiers and ourselves. We could put the wounded inside and at least they
would have a firing position if the cyborgs come back.” Rora suggested, having
quietly joined them.

    Derek thought it over. It was dangerous to
travel at night, especially now that their escort was destroyed. The cyborgs
were probably long gone and it would be better to wait to move the wounded
until they had more time to stabilize. The smoke might attract scavengers but
they would probably wait until everyone was gone.

  He hated the idea of spending the night here. It
violated Rule #14, never sleep in the open. They were too open to attack here;
but the tech was right, the transporter would be an easy target on the open
road at night. Even if they could call for backup; which they couldn’t since
the radios didn’t have that kind of distance, the backup wouldn’t arrive for
six hours. They were screwed either way, but at least here the wounded could
shelter for the night.

   “Okay.” He agreed. “But we need to move some junk
to provide cover for us. We need to keep watch all night, I’ll take the first
shift. You finish loading and then everyone needs to get some rest. We will
leave at first light.”

   The techs nodded and went back to working on the
shuttle. After about an hour they gathered the two able soldiers and Derek to
help winch the shuttle onto the transporter bed. It slid on with surprisingly
little trouble and the techs gave each other a high five. He loved their
enthusiasm, but they still had a long way to go and a night in the open to
survive. He checked with Rora on the wounded. Her first aid skills were
impressive and all three were stable and resting comfortably.

   After a quick meal of MREs everyone but Derek lay
down and tried to get some rest. The others had wanted to build a fire, but he
had overruled them. While it may bring warmth, it would attract anyone or
anything nearby; and even if they were going to break Rule #14 they needed to
follow Rule #19 and not draw attention to themselves. It would also destroy
their night vision and limit their visibility.

   Derek did a quick patrol around the perimeter.
They had dragged several large pieces of junk and stacked some debris around
the disabled MRAP to provide some protection. It wasn’t much, but it was better
than nothing. All the weapons and ammo had been collected and parceled out
amongst the survivors. He had replaced his destroyed M4 with one of the
deceased soldiers’. He looked for the advanced missile launcher but it had
disappeared, possibly taken by a fleeing cultist. The last thing they had done
before going to sleep was to collect the bodies. They had wrapped them in
plastic sheeting they found and secured the bodies onto the transporter to take
back with them.

    The night passed quietly until Rora’s shift
began. Derek needed little sleep and he was still keyed up after the fight so
he was resting his eyes but still awake. As he lay there trying to prepare
himself for the journey back, he heard quiet sobbing. A quick listen confirmed
it was a woman sobbing; and since Rora was the only female on the trip, it had
to be her. He debated ignoring it, but she had become like a daughter to him
and he didn’t want her in pain. So he slowly got up and moved over to join her.

   “Do you want to talk about it?” He offered.

   “I was thinking about Kevin…” She sobbed.

   “Was that the young soldier you were talking to
on the trip?” He asked, putting his arm around her.

   “Yes. I really liked him, and he liked me. And
now he’s dead…” She whispered between sobs.

    He assumed it was her first crush or love or
emotional attachment to someone other than her father. Then to see him
viciously killed right in front of her. That had to be rough, but it was the way
things were in the World After. Life was short, sometimes brutally so, and
cheap out in the wasteland. Unfortunately Rora would have to get used to that.

   “Not that it is comforting, but death is a
constant companion in the wastelands.” Derek offered.

   Rora gave him a dirty look. “Is that a rule?” She
snapped.

   He shrugged. “No. Just a fact of life.”

   Any further conversation was cut short by a
crackle in Derek’s ear that let him know the Voice was about to communicate
with him. He gave Rora a short hug and stepped away to let her grieve.

   “Major. You have company coming.” The Voice
calmly informed him.

   “The cultists are coming back?” Derek asked.

   “No. There are vehicles coming at a fast rate
from outside the graveyard. Raiders probably.” The Voice replied.

    Derek cursed and started rousing the sleeping
techs and soldiers. They scrambled into firing positions as he heard the high
pitched whine of a small engine. That grew in volume as more vehicles
approached. It wasn’t long before the headlights of the approaching vehicles
came into view. The vehicles were small based on the size and location of the
lights and single lights indicated possible motorcycles. Gunfire started before
they were really in range and intensified as they grew closer.

   It was difficult to see in the low light but
Derek could pick out multiple attackers on ATVs and dirt bikes. The attackers
began circling the perimeter around the MRAP and maintained a steady stream of
fire. They stayed at a distance, weaving in and out of the parked airplanes
making it hard to target them. The soldiers and the techs returned fire and the
area was lit by the repeated muzzle flashes. Derek tried to target individual
attackers, but even he was having trouble getting a shot lined up as the
vehicles whizzed by.

   After a few minutes of the attack he took stock
of the situation. None of his people had been hit but it seemed like they
hadn’t hit the attackers either. The attackers didn’t seem interested in
getting any closer and his men couldn’t leave the protection of their
perimeter. It was a maddening stalemate that seemed to serve no purpose. Then
he heard the deep roar of a large vehicle engine starting and he realized what
has happening.

   “They’re hijacking the shuttle!” He called to the
others. “Cover me.”

   Derek started to leave the shelter of the
barricades but the attackers saw him and concentrated fire on him. Changing
tactics, one of the riders on an ATV threw a Molotov cocktail into the
perimeter. It shattered on a pile of junk and sprayed liquid flame. A few more
flaming bottles added their fire to the mix, setting the perimeter ablaze. That
pushed the defenders back and made it even harder to see the attackers through
the flickering flames.

   Derek groaned in frustration as the attackers
managed to keep them pinned. With the light from the flames, he could see that
the attackers were indeed raiders. By his count there were three ATVs and four
dirt bikes circling them. All of them had a driver and a rider behind them. The
riders were firing submachine guns they had strapped to their shoulders continuously,
only pausing to reload, and occasionally flinging another Molotov cocktail. Rounds
sparked off the barricades and the disabled MRAP keeping the defenders pinned
down. He could only assume this was another ploy by the Humek that had been
chasing them to interfere with their plans. It was way too organized for a pack
of raiders.

    He could feel the ground rumble as the massive
transporter pulled away slowly. The raiders circling them kept up their fire
until the vehicle had left the airplane graveyard. Then they roared away,
following after their stolen prize. Without a working vehicle Derek had no way
to chase them. He needed to grab one of theirs. As the last raider pulled away,
Derek jumped through the flames and ran after them. Clear of the flames, his
vision improved and he had a clean shot. Stopping, Derek took aim at the last
of the fleeing raiders.

   The ATV was heading directly away from him
meaning that he had a straight shot at the raiders. He fired the full clip into
their backs, his strength enabling him to keep the recoil from moving his shots
too much. The rider threw his hands up as the first rounds struck him and fell
backwards off the escaping vehicle. The remainder of the clip struck the
driver; he shook with the impacts and then slumped over the steering column.
The ATV veered left and crashed slowly into a pile of junk. Derek gave a small
yell of triumph. All was not yet lost.

   “Rora!” He yelled. “Get on the ATV. You’re
driving!”

   She hustled out of the still burning perimeter
and joined him at the ATV. Derek yanked the dead raider from the seat and they
both jumped on. Rora took a minute to familiarize herself with the controls and
then gunned the throttle. Derek held on with one arm and tried to steady the
carbine with the other. He had reloaded while she was looking over the controls
and he was ready to kill some more scum.

    With the ATV at full speed they soon caught up
with the stolen transporter and its escort. Derek opened fire as soon as they
were in range and managed to kill two of the raiders on a dirt bike. His rounds
hit the driver and the bike crashed at a high rate of speed cart-wheeling the
rider through the air. He landed with a thud and didn’t move. Rora closed on a
second bike and Derek emptied the rest of the clip. The bullets struck the gas
tank and caused the bike to fireball killing both the driver and the passenger.

    The fireball caused the others to realize they
were being pursued and started to drive more evasively. They dropped back to
engage their pursuer and protect their prize. The riders turned backwards and
opened fire on the pursuing ATV. Rora was forced to start weaving as well to
make a more difficult target to hit. Derek tried to reload the carbine, but
they struck a rut and the ATV lurched up into the air. He was forced to let go
of the M4 to hang on to Rora.

   “Sorry!” She called back to him. “The terrain is
getting tougher to handle.”

   “Don’t worry about it.” He yelled in her ear as
he pulled out his sawed off shotgun. “Just get us closer. Try to bring us in
between them.”

   In response she hit the throttle and they
rocketed into the midst of the raider pack. Bullets whizzed around them as they
closed in and Derek was struck several times, but nothing serious. He had hoped
they would cease firing because they were afraid they would hit each other with
the crossfire, but no such luck. The raiders were as dumb as they were vile. He
pointed the shotgun one handed to their right and fired point blank with both
barrels. There was no way he could miss at this distance.

    The shotgun blast cleared the raiders off of one
of the other ATVs and it slowly coasted to a stop. That left an ATV and two
dirt bikes on their left and another bike on their right. There must have been
more raiders on vehicles that hadn’t been circling the perimeter. The bike on
their right peeled off and headed in a different direction. Not unexpected,
most raiders were opportunistic cowards who didn’t like a standup fight. The
others didn’t run though, and kept firing at them. This close they couldn’t
miss.

   Bullets struck the ATV and he took a few rounds
to his left leg. He heard Rora gasp as a round tore through her and he quickly
reloaded the shotgun. He snapped it open with one hand, the spent shells
ejecting out, and then jammed it under his left armpit. Pulling shells from his
belt he reloaded it one handed while still hanging onto Rora. Once the shells
were in, he snapped it shut with a flourish and rested it across his left arm
to aim at the raiders on their left.

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