Part Two- Little Friends & Large Foes
Rachel pushed her mech as hard as possible without red-lining systems. She double checked her coordinates, adjusted her heading and pushed harder.
“Biz?”
No answer.
“Biz? Its Rache, do you copy?”
Still no answer. “Hey Jethro? Do you have a lock on Bisby?”
“I have a lock, but not much info. Something’s jamming the signal.”
“What info do you have?”
“Looks like weapons systems are readied, but not active yet. I’d say he’s about to get in the shit.”
“How far off am I?”
“You’re at least an hour if not two.”
“Shit.”
“Don’t worry, Rache. He can handle himself.”
***
Red Legs gripped the iron girder, swinging it like a club. Bisby barely piloted out of the way, crushing husks of burnt out cars as he scrambled out of range.
He switched on his external loudspeakers. “Oh, you wanna play, do ya?” He quickly scanned his surroundings and found his weapon.
Circling right, he forced Red Legs to the left. Bisby ducked and rolled, barely dodging a massive swipe. He came up holding two short clusters of re-bar, one in each mech fist.
“Bitch, you ain’t gonna take me one on one!”
The two death machines closed on each other.
***
“This is Commander Capreze,” Capreze said, answering the secure com that chimed in.
“Capreze? Good to hear your voice. This is First General Powell, UDC Command.”
“General, it’s an honor. Everything alright?”
“Sure, sure. I’m just calling to send my condolences over the loss of Pilot Stanislaw.”
“Thank you, General. He was a great pilot and friend. He’ll be missed by all.”
“Of course, of course…” the General trailed off.
“Is there something else you wanted to discuss, sir?”
“Well, Commander, yes there is… You see the UDC has been working on a retrovirus.”
Capreze listened, his blood running cold.
***
Bisby ducked low, swinging the rebar at Red Legs, trying to take the dead mech out at the knees. Red Legs leapt over the attack, twisting in the air, and brought the girder down right at Bisby’s cockpit. Bisby raised the two clutches of rebar up in an X, blocking Red Legs’ attack.
An alarm sounded, warning of possible hydraulics failure.
Bisby ignored the alarm, putting all his attention on fending off Red Legs as the deader slammed the girder down again and again.
Red Legs roared.
“Fuck you too!” Bisby yelled, finally able to roll away from Red Legs.
***
“Are all of your communication security protocols in place Commander?” General Powell asked.
“Yes, sir. We are clear to speak freely.”
“Good. Now, as I am sure you are aware the UDC has been implementing full inoculation programs in all of the city/states.”
“No, sir, I wasn’t aware.”
“Really? It came to my attention Dr. Lisbon of Foggy Bottom had contacted your Chief Medical Officer regarding the program.”
“I wasn’t informed, sir. I’ll speak with her.”
“Oh, well, it’s of no real consequence, Capreze. Is Dr. Themopolous available? I’d like her to join in this conversation.”
“I’ll hail her, sir.”
***
Bisby came up firing, his plasma cannon glowing red hot with each successive blast.
Red Legs agilely dodged to the left, taking cover behind some debris. Chunks of ancient concrete and steel filled the air as Bisby followed Red Legs’ movement, trying to aim his blasts ahead of the deader.
“Fucking stand still!” Bisby yelled. And Red Legs did, using the girder to block several of the plasma blasts. The undead machine hurled the warped and melted chunk of metal straight at Bisby.
Bisby brought an arm up to deflect the attack, the collision forcing his mech to stumble backwards.
***
“Themopolous,” the Doctor answered, checking Steve’s vital signs.
“Doctor? I have General Powell on secure com. I hope you have a few minutes for to speak privately?”
Themopolous glanced at the doorway as Harlow came in, sleepily stretching. She motioned at her com ear and Harlow nodded, shooing her away and taking over Steve’s assessment. Dr. Themopolous left the infirmary quickly.
“Of course, sir. I’m almost to my office now.”
“Excellent, Doctor,” the General chimed in. “I have some great news regarding the newly developed retrovirus Dr. Lisbon informed you of.”
Themopolous froze and forced herself not to be sick.
***
Red Legs took immediate advantage of Bisby’s faltering and opened fire. Bisby took a graze to the right shoulder, the smell of scorched metal overpowering his environmental filters, as his mech slammed to the ground. He checked systems and saw he had been lucky, sustaining only minimal damage.
Quickly, Bisby tucked his mech back behind a half buried transport, hoping the shell still had enough structural integrity left to take the onslaught. Red Legs’s blasts began to slow, the concussions weakening.
Bisby checked his scanners and smiled. The deader was losing power.
“Okay,” he said aloud. “No more fucking around!”
***
“I’m ready to proceed, sirs,” Themopolous said, settling into her desk chair, apprehension clawing at her, forcing her to keep her voice even.
“Excellent. I’ll keep this brief as I know you are both busy,” the General said. “At approximately 1700 hours tomorrow a supply train will be arriving with the inoculation for your base personnel.”
“Sir?” Capreze said, stunned.
“Yes, Commander. We have already inoculated all of the city/states and security outposts. Your base is the last on the list. We didn’t want to rush the process, seeing as the mechs are an integral part of our overall survival.”
***
Bisby rolled his mech to the right into a tight crouch. Red Legs circled, trying to get the advantage, its cannons glowing dully.
“Looks like you’re almost out of juice, deader!” Bisby taunted. Red Legs roared.
Bisby sprang, his mech launching into the air, twisting away from the cannon blasts. Three, two, one… The two mechs collided in a ground shaking crunch.
Bisby didn’t lose stride, tucking his mech’s left arm up under Red Legs and lifting it into the air. He brought the right arm down fast, smashing at Red Leg’s cockpit, hoping to crush the zombie pilot inside.
***
“Is there anything I need to have prepared, sir?” Themopolous asked, her voice audibly shaking now.
“No, no, we have everything taken care of. There will be two med techs to administer the inoculations and a small security force to accompany them.”
“I’ll be sure and have accommodations ready, sir,” Capreze said, picking up on Themopolous’ faltering poise, hoping the General hadn’t.
“Not necessary, Commander. They will only be there long enough for the techs to complete their work and for the train to refuel and re-supply.”
“Well, sir, the Doctor and I will have the base ready for them.”
***
Bisby raged as he pounded away at Red Legs’ cockpit hatch, so close he could smell the rot and decay.
The dead mech tried to ward off the blows, but it was no match for Bisby’s close combat skills. For every maneuver it tried to make, Bisby expertly countered, never letting the bludgeoning slack.
After only minutes the dead mech’s power reserves gave up and the giant machine became dead weight. Bisby threw the deader to the ground and shoved his 50mm into the cracked cockpit, ready to vaporize the barely moving zombie pilot.
“Biz?!? Talk to me!” Rachel crackled.
***
“Now, I do need to verify all base personnel will be present,” General Powell said casually.
“Well, no sir. I have a team on a supply run to Foggy Bottom as we speak. They won’t return for a few days.”
“Their names, Commander?”
Capreze hesitated. This wasn’t protocol. There was no need for a First General to be inquiring about the roster; that was why he had an assistant.
“Pilot Masters, General Mechanic Rind and our new Rookie.”
There was a slight pause. “Excellent, Commander. Thank you. I’ll let both of you return to your busy schedules.”
“Thank you, sir.”
***
“Whatcha want Rache?” Bisby asked, exhausted, trigger finger itching to depress and obliterate Red Legs’s zombie pilot.
“What do I want?!? WHAT DO I FUCKING WANT?!?” Rachel exploded. “I want to know that you aren’t deader food! That you are still alive and in one piece! That’s what I fucking want!”
Bisby took a deep breath and removed his finger from the trigger. “Yeah, I’m in one piece. Red Legs is out of commission.” Bisby undid his harness and opened his cockpit. “I’m descending now to retrieve the head for Themopolous.”
“Be careful.”
Bisby snorted and climbed down his mech.
***
Capreze strode from his office. “Themopolous? What’s your location?”
“I’m in my office. I was about to return to the infirmary,” she answered over the com.
“Stay put. I’m coming to you.”
“Of course, sir. Is this about the inoculations?”
“You’re Goddamn right it’s about the inoculations!” Capreze shouted. “I’m almost to your office and we are going to get a few things straight before that train arrives. Let Harlow know you may be a while before you return. Copy that?”
There was silence on Themopolous’s end.
“Doctor? Did you copy that?”
“Yes, sir, I copy. I’ll alert Pilot Harlow.”
***
Mathew dozed briefly, his motor drive set to auto and course plotted. A proximity alarm sounded and roused him from his nap.
Instantly he was alert and checking all systems. A quick scan showed a transport and what were possibly three ATVs about six miles out. He couldn’t quite tell what they were doing, but further readings confirmed the presence of a few dozen zombies.
“What the…?”
He disengaged the motor drive and took control of his mech, adjusting his course towards the source of the readings.
“Let’s see what we got going on over here,” he muttered to himself.
***
Bisby pried open the dead mech’s cockpit with a short shovel. The zombie pilot squirmed in its harness, its rotted teeth gnashing and grinding, its yellow, dead eyes never leaving Bisby’s.
Bisby stared down at the abomination. “You poor, sad sack of shit.” He thrust the shovel blade down into the zombie’s throat and through its neck, severing the head.
He stood there for several minutes, just looking at the decapitated zombie. “Who did you used to be?”
“How’s your progress, Biz?” Rachel interrupted.
“Progressing fine, Mom.” Bisby slipped on heavy, rubber gloves and bent down to retrieve the head.
***
“You want to fucking tell me why I learn from a First General that my own Chief Medical Officer has known about retrovirus inoculations, but decided not to fucking tell me?!?” Capreze screamed, exploding into Themopolous’ office. “If it was to make me look like a fucking asshole, then you fucking succeeded!”
“Sir, it’s not what you think,” Themopolous said quietly.
“Not what I think?!? How do you fucking know what I think?!? I don’t even know what I fucking think right now!”
Capreze stood there, chest heaving, his hands planted on his hips. Themopolous refused to make eye contact.
***
“Rache? Head’s retrieved. CPU and hard drive also. All ready for Themopolous. Where you at?” Bisby said, strapping back into his harness.
“I’m still a few miles off. Head towards me, we should meet up in about 30 minutes.”
“Gotcha on my scope. See ya in a few.” Bisby took one last look at the dead mech that was Red Legs. “You always seemed tougher than that. Guess I’m just the better mech.”
Bisby started to walk his mech away from the scene, but blaring claxons stopped him.
Hundreds of zombies swarmed from out of nowhere, heading straight for Bisby.
***
Capreze glared at the doctor. “Fucking look at me when I’m talking to you?”
Themopolous forced herself to meet the Commander’s eyes. She studied his face for a moment and realization dawned on her. “You really don’t know anything about this, do you?”
“Have I been talking to my self? For a doctor, you’re a fucking idiot!”
“So you have no clue that the inoculation is just a smoke screen?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Nanotech,” Themopolous stated flatly.
Capreze’s confidence faltered. “What are you saying?”
“The UDC is injecting nanobots into every single person within their authority.”
***
Mathew watched the ATVs surround the fifty or so zombies, driving them towards the large transport.
“Fucking Ranchers,” he muttered as he lowered his binocs and slowly crawled backwards down the low rise to his mech.
He was up, strapped in and hailing Jethro within a minute.
“Whatcha need Matty?’
“Get me Capreze.”
“No ‘please’?”
“What is with you today Jethro? Daddy Jay not around to rebel against so you have to act out towards me? Am I your surrogate brother?”
“My brother died in my arms when I was fifteen, asshole.”
“Really? Sorry.”
“No, not really. I’ll get Capreze.”
***
Bisby opened fire with his plasma cannon and the 50mm, taking out the first wave of zombies as they surged towards him.
“Rachel!”
“What Biz?”
“Get your ass here now! I’ve got hundreds of undead coming straight for me! They are too close to take out!”
The swarm overwhelmed Bisby’s weapons and smashed directly into him, the weight of the dead bringing the mighty mech to the ground. Bisby sent a high voltage current through his mech’s exoskeleton, hoping to fry the zombies off, but only the first few were affected, melting a layer of rotten flesh to his mech.
***
“Capreze here. Whatcha need Jespers?”
“Sir, I have confirmation of Ranchers. They have a herd of zombies, maybe fifty, sixty total. Looks like they’re heading for Timson’s Bluff. Shall I pursue?”
“No, let them alone. The UDC’s said that as long as the Cults don’t bother us, we aren’t to bother them.”
“But did they say we couldn’t follow them? I can do some quick recon and mark their base, in case we need to come back.”
“What was that Jespers? You’re breaking up. I didn’t hear a word of what you just said. Copy?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
***
“Are you okay, sir?” Themopolous asked, seeing the worry on Capreze’s face as he severed the com connection with Mathew.
“We’ve got Ranchers out near Timson’s Bluff.”
“Timson’s Bluff? Ranchers aren’t usually that close to us, if I’m not mistaken.”
“You aren’t,” Capreze said, sighing. “But, first thing’s first, I need to know why you didn’t come to me with this.”
Themopolous paused before answering. “I wasn’t sure you could be trusted, sir. I was warned that this is top level UDC.”
“Fair enough. So, now what?” Capreze asked.
“I don’t know,” Themopolous answered. “But we have to stop them.”
***
Bisby struggled against the weight of zombie bodies piling onto his mech, but for every few he was able to crush or toss aside, twice as many replaced them. He could hear cables snapping, hydraulics cracking and his mech groan under the weight.
A hairline crack appeared in his cockpit and he was tempted to say ‘fuck it’ and start firing his sidearm through the windshield at the zombie faces trying to gnash and gnaw their way in.
Suddenly, above the noise of the zombie swarm, Bisby could hear rapid gunfire. The weight on his mech began to lessen quickly.
***
Mathew was able to track the Rancher transport on his sensors and he guessed correctly: they headed straight for Timson’s Bluff.
Unable to get any closer without his mech being observed, Mathew shut down power and climbed from the cockpit, carbine strapped to his shoulder and binocs in hand.
He stood facing the rough, steep surface of the cliff, knowing that it would be a hard climb, but worth the unobstructed, and unobserved, view of the Ranchers’ activities.
“I’m gonna be fucking sore tomorrow,” he sighed.
Walking back to the mech he began unloading climbing gear from a storage compartment.
***
“So how do these nanobots work?” Capreze asked.
“I’m not sure to be honest,” Themopolous replied. “The tech behind it has never been released into public knowledge. In fact, last I heard, the UDC gave up on its success years ago. Either this has been a completely classified project or there was some recent breakthrough I didn’t hear about.”
“Either way, it’s a bit extreme to inject those things into the entire population.”
“UDC population,” Themopolous corrected.
“What?”
“From the info I have seen, none of the wasteland inhabitants have been injected.”
“Hmmmm….,” Capreze mused. “Why only the UDC population?”
***
“Rachel?!? Is that you?” Bisby yelled into his com. “Rachel?!?”
He slammed his fist against the console. “Fucking piece of shit com! Jethro is fucking dead!”
The gunfire continued and zombies were now visibly falling away. He shoved and fought, tossing many aside.
Without warning there was a crack and then searing pain exploded in his right shoulder. “Mother fucker!”
Bisby looked down at the rapidly spreading patch of blood. He abandoned getting his mech upright and cut open his uniform. Tearing into his med kit, he slapped a compression bandage on the wound, hoping it would stop the bleeding.
***
Rachel’s legs burned from the effort of running her mech as hard as possible.
“Biz?!? Come in, Biz! Shit!”
She tried to lock onto his location, but her sensor readings were all over the place.
“Goddammit!” she yelled. “Jethro? What the hell is wrong with my systems?!?” She waited for the reply, but was only met with static. “Jethro? What the fuck?!?”
She knew she was close, but with a lack of proper sensor readings and no com, he could be just over a hill and she’d run right past him.
“This just fucking sucks!” she screamed, filled with frustration.
***
Bisby ignored the pain. Pain was for fucking pussies that didn’t pilot 50-ton war machines. He forced his mech upright and pulled the trigger, laying waste to dozens of zombies still swarming his mech. Fluids and tissue splattered across his cockpit, streaking the windows.
The whirling machine guns clicked empty and came to a halt, barrels smoking. Bisby glanced at the weapons levels. Empty. Everything.
Movement on the horizon: a mech. He wasn’t sure if it was living or dead. Or if it mattered anymore.
All he had was his sidearm and he planned on saving one bullet for himself.
***
“Ready to set camp?” Masters asked over the com.
“As good a place as any,” Jay responded.
The Rookie stared out at the wide-open expanse of wasteland. “Aren’t we a little exposed?”
“No, not really,” Jay answered. “It’s easier to set a security perimeter.” Jay saw the look on the Rookie’s face. “Listen, if you set up against a cliff or hill you have to secure elevation, which means you have gravity working against you. There really isn’t any safe place in the waste. Might as well keep it open and make the zombies cover ground to get to you.”
***
“Fucking hell!” Rachel yelled as she nearly toppled over trying to sidestep the mini-mech that came out of nowhere and screamed past her. She slowed her mech and spun around, having to physically observe the machine since her sensors were still non-operational.
But, the mini-mech was gone. She came to a full stop and turned 360 degrees, trying to spot it again. Nothing.
“JETHRO!!!!”
“What?!? Jeezus, you trying to pop my eardrums?” Jethro answered.
“Thank God the com is back up. Which mini do you have out here?”
“What? I called Two and Four in. They’re almost back to base.”
***
Mathew lay belly down just at the edge of the bluff, peering through his binocs, not believing what he was seeing.
What are the Ranchers doing loading zombies onto UDC transports? he thought.
He scooted away from the edge and back to his climbing gear. He strapped on his repelling harness, tossed the rope off the cliff side and descended.
He debated whether to alert Capreze now or wait until he was secure at base. He had no idea what monitoring tech the UDC transports had. Hell, he had no idea if they already had his mech on their sensors.
***
“Am I just hearing voices or is the com back up?” Bisby asked.
“My com was never down, it must have been just you guys,” Jethro answered.
“Biz! What’s your location?” Rachel asked. “Wait, never mind, sensors are operational again also. What happened?”
“I don’t know, but it got pretty lonely out here. I’ve got a visual on your mech, Rache. Turn around, I’m five miles behind you,” Bisby said, randomly stomping on the zombies that were still moving.
“Yeah, I got ya. Be there shortly.”
“Don’t bother. I’m doing a little clean up and then I’ll head your way.”
***
The sun set quickly, turning the wasteland into an appropriate blood red landscape.
“Hey, anybody still out here?” Mathew called over an open channel.
“Matty? Why aren’t you at base?” Rachel asked.
“I found something interesting. I’ll fill you in back at base. You okay?”
“I’m fine. Things got weird, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“I’m fucking fine too. Thanks for asking,” Bisby grumbled. “Just got shot in the shoulder, that’s all.”
“Damn! You okay?”
“Yeah. We stopped and Rache patched me up.”
“She’s good that way.”
“Yep. I’ll let you two talk in private. See ya back at base.”
***
June was barely conscious when Chunks threw her onto the skin rug. She knew she was in pain, but it seemed so distant, foreign. Shock had taken over hours ago after the fourth or fifth time Riley had raped her. She fought to keep her senses, knowing any bit of information she could retain could save her life.
“We found this one messing with the larder, Boss,” Chunks said.
Two leather boots filled her vision as the Boss stepped closer to examine her.
“What happened, Chunks?”
“Riley couldn’t wait, Boss. He had to have a taste.”
“Call him in here.”
***
Rachel and Mathew walked their mechs through the night, separated by miles, but connected by their com, each listening to the other’s breathing.
A shooting star shot past the horizon.
“Did you see that?” Mathew asked.
“The shooting star?” Rachel responded.
“Yeah. Better make a wish.”
“It already came true.”
“I’m going to be sick,” Bisby interrupted.
“I thought you were going to give us some privacy,” Mathew stated, slightly annoyed.
“Yeah, well I got bored. Although I’m beginning to think boredom is better than nausea.”
Rachel reached out and punched Bisby’s mech sending him stumbling.
“Hey!”
“Sorry. Got bored.”
***
The Rookie was actually grateful when the high-pitched keening woke him. The trip across the waste was bringing up long dead memories, making his sleep fitful. He sat up immediately, grabbing his carbine.
Floodlights from the mechs were triggered and the Rookie had to squint into the light.
“What is it?” the Rookie called out.
“Couple wanderers broke the perimeter,” Masters said, checking readings on his tablet. “All clear now. Go back to sleep.”
“System staying strong?” Jay asked sleepily, still wrapped in his sleeping bag.
“Everything checks out fine.”
“Good…good…,” Jay mumbled, already asleep before he finished speaking.
***
“Boss?” June heard Riley say. She felt searing pain between her legs as her bladder loosed.
“What’s the Law?” the Boss’s voice growled.
“Huh?”
“The Law, Riley.”
“Well, she ain’t no virgin. I checked. I figured you wouldn’t mind if I had some fun.”
Through her hazy vision, June watched the Boss’s boots step away. There was a small metallic sound, a wet gurgle then Riley, throat slashed and gushing, fell next to her, his eyes wide.
“Chunks!”
“Yeah, Boss?”
“Dress this asshole for tomorrow’s lunch.”
“Yes, Boss.”
It was then June saw the various tattoos adorning the Boss’s boots.