Part One- Storms & Stompers
“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.
“You know what?” Masters continued. “You guys don’t worry about this. I can handle a single transport in my sleep.” Three more transports crested the hill right on the heels of the first one. “Or four. Still no worries.”
Warnings blared and Masters watched as all four transports targeted missiles on his mech.
***
The Rookie, sweat dripping down his face, gritted his teeth as Jay cauterized the bullet wound.
“At least you stopped screaming like a baby girl,” Jay said as he finished.
“Fuck…you…Rind,” the Rookie croaked.
“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you, you little cage fighting freak!”
Despite his pain the Rookie laughed, wishing immediately he hadn’t, as his chest shook, creating fresh waves of pain.
“Ow…”
“You act like you ain’t ever been shot before,” Jay said cleaning up the bloody mess that was the salvage mech’s cockpit.
“I haven’t.”
“Really? I’ve been shot seven times. Deserved every bullet.”
***
Deacon Montoya listened to his com intently. “Roger that. I’ll alert the Bishop immediately.”
Bishop Wyble removed the cloth from his face and sighed. “What is it, Deacon?”
“Two mechs escaped Foggy Bottom, Your Grace. However, UDC transports were dispatched and they have tracked and found the mechs. They are engaging as we speak, Your Eminence.”
“That is wonderful news, Montoya! Please keep me posted as to the outcome of the battle! I am sure God will shine down on our new UDC brethren and make them victorious against the heathen machines!” Bishop Wyble bellowed.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Montoya responded.
***
Masters switched on his external loudspeakers. “Attention approaching UDC transports. I will give you one chance to turn your little pussy asses around and go home. I don’t know if you are all dead, undead, living, but slightly spoiled or what-the-fuck-ever! But, I’m sure none of you want my mech fist shoved up your fuckholes!”
The transports responded by firing their missiles. Masters grinned from ear to ear then broke into a full run towards the transports.
“Really? Puny little missiles? Against a mech? What fucking field manual are you guys smoking?”
The missiles and mech sped towards each other.
***
“Here, sip this,” Jay said, handing the Rookie a flask. “It’ll take the edge off.”
The Rookie gladly took the offered flask and quickly downed the contents handing back the empty flask to Jay. “Thanks.”
Jay stared at the empty flask then back to the Rookie. “I said ‘sip’, asshole.”
“Oh, sorry,” the Rookie apologized. “That wasn’t the last was it?”
“It was in the cockpit. I’ll have to climb out and down to get more out of storage.”
“That would be great,” the Rookie said lazily as the warmth of the shine spread through his body, numbing the pain.
***
Without breaking stride, Masters sprang into the air, twisting his mech about, letting the missiles fly past him. He came down on his massive fists, palms flat and immediately piloted his mech into a backwards handspring, landing just yards from the first UDC transport.
“Howdy! I see you want to play!” Masters laughed reaching down and picking the first transport off the ground. “Lift with your legs! That’s how we stay healthy in the workplace!”
He swung the transport about and back the way he came, directly into the missiles that had changed course and were heading right for him.
***
The explosion sent pieces of transport and troops flying across the wasteland. The salvage mech shuddered, nearly knocking Jay loose as he descended to the storage compartment for more shine.
“Fucking show off!” Jay yelled into his com.
“Jealous much?!?” Masters yelled back.
Jay reached the compartment, lifted the hatch and gasped. “Holy fucking shit!”
“What?” the Rookie asked over the com. “You okay?”
“You won’t believe this! But, Legit actually made good on his promise! Every part I asked for is loaded in here!” Jay searched a bit more. “But the fuckers took the shine!”
“Bastards!” the Rookie yelled.
***
The giant fist slammed down and through the closest UDC transport, crushing everything inside. Masters lifted the transport and shook it off, sending it flying 300 yards before it smashed to the ground, sending fiery shrapnel across the wasteland.
“Wooo-fucking-hoooo!” Masters crowed. “I am loving the smashy-smashy! I haven’t fucked shit up with my mech in a while! Feels fucking good!”
Cannon fire brought Masters’ attention back to the remaining transports. He dodged to the left, letting the artillery shells wiz past him.
“Really? That’s all you got! Leave it to UDC fuckheads to bring transports to a mech fight!”
***
Jay climbed back into the cockpit. “Hey, you’re missing the show,” he said, carefully helping the Rookie sit upright so he could see the action. “You should watch this, you’ll learn a thing or two about how to pilot a mech.”
The Rookie stared in amazement at the deftness with which Masters maneuvered his mech.
“Jeezus! It’s like the transports are just toys to him. Even his mech moves with that cocky swagger,” the Rookie exclaimed.
“As it should,” Jay said. “A mech is not separate from its pilot, but an extension.”
The Rookie stared in awe as Masters worked.
***
“Hey, Rookie? You think that’s impressive? Watch this!” Masters called over the com. He swatted away two RPGs and lifted his foot over the closest mech. Without hesitation, he stomped down, his mech foot swallowed by the transport. He did the same to the second and last transport before it could get another shot off.
Masters shifted his mech’s weight, securing the transports tightly.
“I gotta dance!” Masters said in a sing-song voice.
And then, he danced.
“That’s fucked up…” the Rookie said, his eyes widening as he watched 50 tons of war machine break into a soft shoe routine.
***
“Ain’t I pretty? Who’s a pretty dancing mech?” Masters piloted his mech in a graceful pirouette. And stopped, his mech hands splayed and shaking. “Jazz hands, bitches!”
“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me?” the Rookie said over the com.
“Harlow loves musicals. We’ve seen everything Jay has on vid. You should see the routine we put together,” Masters laughed, aiming his right 50mm at the transports. He fired off the gun, slicing the fronts of the transports off then shook them from his mech’s feet. “You see, kid, if you can dance in a mech, you can fight in a mech.”
***
“Um, Your Grace?” Deacon Montoya asked. “We’ve lost all four transport signals. It appears the mechs may have destroyed them.”
“That is unfortunate, Deacon,” Bishop Wyble said. He stared out the windshield as the mech base came into sight. “Oh, well. Hopefully the waste storm will take care of them for us. It’s in God’s hands now, Montoya.”
“Of course, sir,” Montoya responded. He checked his scanners. “It appears the mech base is empty, Your Eminence. I have zero life signs on my scanners. Power is up and communications are online. Shall I alert the others?”
“Yes, Deacon, please do.”
***
“Well, I hate to skip the encore, boys, but we have a waste storm to outrun,” Masters said over the com.
Jay secured the Rookie’s straps then strapped himself in and powered up his mech. “Well, from these readings it doesn’t look like we are going to outrun it, but we can’t stay here. This bluff isn’t near enough cover.”
“Where are we?’ the Rookie asked.
“The middle of Bumfuck,” Jay responded. He transferred data to his tablet and held it up so the Rookie could see.
“I know exactly where we are,” the Rookie responded, eyeing the tablet’s screen.
***
“Okay, I got the heading,” Masters said. “The sooner we get there the more time we’ll have to get secured. You sure there’s enough room for both mechs, kid?”
“Yeah,” the Rookie answered over the com. “Plenty of room. I’ve had to hole up there before.”
“Really? You know, you said you’d tell us who the fuck you are if we got out of Foggy Bottom.”
“Yes, I know,” the Rookie winced. “But, how about we worry about the waste storm first?”
“I swear, Rookie, if you or I die before I know your story, I’m gonna be fucking pissed.”
***
“We have entered the mech base’s staging area, Your Grace,” Montoya informed the Bishop.
Bishop Wyble glanced from the windshield to the vid screens and back out the windshield. “And how can you tell the difference, Deacon Montoya?” the Bishop asked. “It looks the same as all the rest of the wasteland.”
The Deacon pointed at his screen. “Those dots, Your Eminence. They are part of some type of warning system, but I’m unfamiliar with the tech. Must be custom.”
“Custom tech, you say? Well, it appears the mech personnel haven’t been fully open with the UDC,” Bishop Wyble chuckled.
***
The UDC and Rancher transports stopped in front of the mech base hangar, the tail end of the waste storm still blowing strongly.
“Well, Deacon Montoya, what are we waiting for?” the Bishop asked impatiently. “Ring the bell.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Montoya responded activating his com. “Tech crew go.”
A three man team dashed from a transport to the hangar doors. One man opened a small panel and began to hack the locking mechanism. Almost instantly the man was electrocuted, his body dancing and smoking as 100,000 volts fried him.
Bishop Wyble sighed. “I guess we will have to knock.
***
The lead Rancher transport, Bishop Wyble’s, targeted its missile launcher on the mech base’s hangar bay doors.
“Now, Deacon, just a light knock. No need to break the door down,” the Bishop ordered.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Deacon Montoya responded. “First missile away.”
They watched as the missile shot from the transport and impacted upon the door. Montoya checked his sensors since the smoke was still too thick for a visual. “Barely any damage, You Grace.”
“Hmmm… Well, then, kick it in! The Archbishop will be disappointed, but I’m sure its nothing we couldn’t fix later.”
“Certainly, Your Grace,” Montoya agreed.
***
“Holy shit!” Jethro yelled staring at his scanner. “Looks like the transports arrived!”
“Give me a visual,” Capreze commanded as he piloted the transport. Jethro tapped at his tablet and the image he was looking at was superimposed upon the windshield in front of Capreze. “Okay, what am I looking at?”
“Well, you are looking at what used to be our hangar bay doors,” Jethro responded. “I guess they gave up on the subtle approach. Probably after they found my little surprise.”
“Surprise?” Themopolous asked, glancing nervously out the windshield into the wasteland.
“100,000 volts of hot death,” Jethro laughed.
***
The three mechs stomped along, escorting the transport through the wasteland. Harlow to the left, Rachel to the right and Bisby bringing up the rear.
“How deep in do you think we’re going?” Harlow asked over her com.
“Not a clue,” Rachel responded, stretching in her cockpit. “Biz? You got any ideas?”
“Yes,” Bisby said. “And none of them are good.”
“Care to share with the rest of us?” Harlow asked.
“I’d hate to give you girls nightmares,” Bisby joked. Harlow stopped her mech and took a swing at Bisby’s. He easily ducked out of the way. “Hey! Watch it!”
***
“Pilot Harlow, any reason you are out of formation?” the Commander asked.
“Just swatting at flies, sir,” Harlow responded over the com.
“Well, I applaud your dedication to pest control, but your mech is better suited on my left flank.”
“Understood, sir.”
Capreze shook his head. “So, Jethro, you are positive the Ranchers nor the UDC will pick up on our surveillance?”
“98.7% sure, sir,” Jethro responded. “If Jay were here we’d have the other 1.3% covered, but I’m not quite up to speed right now.”
“Fair enough. Let me know when they are fully inside the base.”
“Will do.”
***
Bishop Wyble stepped from his transport and began barking orders. “No, you fools! Clear it THAT way! Imbeciles, that top piece is…wonderful, just wonderful! Now see what you’ve done?!? MONTOYA!”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the Deacon answered, directly behind the Bishop.
“Those two,” Bishop Wyble said, pointing to two Ranchers scurrying away from the hangar debris as their lack of attention caused a sudden collapse of pieces of door still attached to the base. “Make an example, please.”
Without a word, Montoya drew his sidearm and approached the two men, firing point blank, splattering their brains against the base wall.
***
Themoplous leaned in close to Capreze. “Sir, I am worried about Jethro. He’s had three nose bleeds since we left. I need to run more tests, but…” She looked about the transport in dismay. “The facilities are lacking.”
Capreze furrowed his brow. “Do what you can, Doc. We aren’t stopping any time soon.”
“But, sir…”
“No ‘buts’. We’re looking at the destruction of civilization. Again. Possibly humanity. Are you saying one life is more important?”
“You know,” Jethro spoke up. “You guys have a really bad habit of talking about me like I can’t hear you. Knock it off, please.”
***
“Sir?” Harlow called over the com. “What’s the plan for a recharge?”
“After sundown, Pilot,” Capreze responded. “We need to put more distance between us and the base. I have no idea what their endgame is, but should it be pursuit we’ll need a better head start.”
“Copy that, Commander,” Harlow responded checking her time display. “We’ll keep our eyes peeled for a suitable campsite in a few hours.”
“Excellent. All pilots on board with that?” Capreze asked.
“Yep,” Bisby responded.
“Yes, sir,” Rachel answered.
“Good. In the meantime I’d suggest you do a full running diagnostic on your systems.”
***
“Your Grace? UDC troops report the base is empty,” Deacon Montoya said, approaching Bishop Wyble as he lounged in an ornate and well padded chair under an oversized umbrella. The Bishop lazily set his drink down on an equally ornate side table next to his chair.
“That is splendid, Deacon. Are you sure the troops are correct?”
Montoya looked at the platoon of UDC troopers and couldn’t help but shiver. “Yes, Your Grace. They may no longer be…as they were, but their training appears to be intact, if not heightened.”
“Very well then it is time for the Blessing.”
***
“Are we close, Rookie?” Masters asked over the com.
“Yeah. See those two mesas on the horizon?” the Rookie responded. “The cavern is just on the other side of the left mesa.”
“Gotcha. Shouldn’t take us more than… Hey Jay, are you reading what I’m reading?”
Jay glanced at his scanner. “Shit! How’d that guy sneak up on us? I’m losing my touch.”
“What? What is it?” the Rookie asked.
“Deader. Big fucker. Must have been using those hills as cover. Still don’t know why it didn’t set off the alarms though,” Jay responded activating the salvage mech’s weapons systems.
***
Masters checked and double checked his scanner readings. “Shit. That’s not a battle mech is it?”
“No, it’s not,” Jay responded over the com. “Looks like a Hill Stomper.”
“A what?” the Rookie asked.
“Didn’t you learn anything before signing up?” Masters mocked. “A fucking Hill Stomper. Construction mech. Quadruple the size of our mechs and built to punch holes through mountains and take a beating like nothing else.”
“They can handle up to 1000 tons of pressure before their hydraulics give out. The Earth itself can’t crush them,” Jay added.
“Oh, that’s just great,” the Rookie sighed. “Just great…”
***
“Oh Blessed Father! Cleanse this base of the heathen influence and poison,” Bishop Wyble intoned as he entered the mech hangar, incense in hand, robes adorning his shoulders. The Deacons flanked the Bishop, hands near their sidearms as the rest of the Ranchers followed behind, eyes to the heavens, hands clasped to each other, mutterings of ‘Amen’ and ‘Glory Be’ escaping their devout lips.
“Take the evil that permeates this facility and cast it out. Cast it far from here and let this base be filled with the Spirit! Let the vileness and wanton lust be forever purged from here!”
***
“Oh, you got to see this!” Jethro said. “Shooting the feed over to everyone.”
Capreze, Themopolous and the pilots all focused on the images Jethro shot them.
“What the fuck am I looking at, Jethro?” Bisby asked. “Is that guy wearing a dress?”
“Robes, Pilot,” Capreze corrected. “And that ‘guy’ is Bishop Wyble himself. And where Bishop Wyble is…”
“The Archbishop isn’t far behind,” Rachel finished for her father.
“What are they playing at?” Harlow asked. “Is there any sound with this?”
“Yeah, hold on,” Jethro responded tapping commands into his tablet. “There.”
“And as God has commanded, there shall…”
***
“…there shall be no other Faith than the True Faith. Let God’s children and Disciples, learn from their time here, this Purgatory on Earth. Let them all learn to fear God, to worship God, to be his servant and warrior for Eternity. In the name of the Father, the Son and the True Disciple, Amen,” Bishop Wyble finished.
“Amen,” the Ranchers echoed.
The Bishop turned to his fellow Ranchers. “Now, who shall be the sacrifice to complete the Blessing?” The Bishop looked amongst his people and smiled, pointing to a petite woman. “Sister Amanda shall have the honor of Sacrifice.”
***
“Where’s this feed coming from?” Bisby asked.
“I have Two powered down. Only audio/visual and basic sensors are operational,” Jethro answered. “Four is following us acting as a relay.”
“Good thinking,” Bisby said.
“Well, already lost two mini-mechs, so figured I’d get the most of what was left,” Jethro said, his jaw tightening in pain.
“Jethro? What is it?” Themopolous asked as she got up from her seat and rushed to the mechanic’s side.
“Nothing, Doc. Just a headache.”
Themopolous handed Jethro two pills. “Take these.” Jethro did so and smiled weakly.
“Um, guys? What’s that woman doing?” Rachel asked.
***
Sister Amanda removed her uniform and stepped naked before the Rancher congregation. “I am honored to be chosen as the Sacrifice for this Blessing,” she announced, bringing her arms above her head, fingers splayed wide. “I pray, Father, that you see fit to make me a True Disciple. But, if I am not worthy, do not let that be reason for withholding your Blessing!”
Amens rang out from the Ranchers and Bishop Wyble grinned widely as he stepped forward, handing Sister Amanda a long, ornate knife. “God has heard you, my child.”
Sister Amanda put the knife to her throat.
***
“Dear God,” Themopolous gasped as they all watched Sister Amanda bring the blade of the knife across her throat and collapse to the hangar floor while blood gushed from the slit.
“God has nothing to do with it, Doctor. Not where Ranchers are concerned,” Capreze growled. “They may play the part, but God doesn’t look down on those freaks with favor.”
“I wouldn’t have figured you a religious man, Commander,” Harlow said.
“I’m not, Pilot. But Faith and religion are two different things. As each of you have learned out here in the waste.”
“Amen to that,” Bisby chimed in.
***
The Bishop and Ranchers stared at the still form of Sister Amanda as dark blood continued to pool about her naked body. It took less than a minute before her eyes opened and what used to be Sister Amanda sprang into a crouch, a guttural growl coming from the open wound in her neck.
Bishop Wyble sighed, withdrawing a long rod, adorned with jewels, from beneath his robe. The Bishop flicked a switch and the rod hummed to life. He stepped forward and before the zombie Sister could pounce he jabbed her, sending 10,000 volts coursing through her undead body.
***
“So is the fucking thing following us or not?’ Masters asked.
“Can’t tell until it makes a move,” Jay answered over the com.
“Yeah, well I’d prefer it didn’t make a move,” Masters said, watching his scanner closely. “I may be an amazing mech pilot, but I don’t know if I’m that good.”
“And modest, too,” the Rookie joked.
“Hey, Rookie, my sweet moves kept your ass alive,” Masters said.
“Yeah, well, I’m not sure I can ever get that image from my mind. Mechs shouldn’t dance, man, that’s just wrong.”
“So wrong, it’s right!” Masters laughed.
“No. Just wrong.”
***
Capreze watched the Bishop angrily.
“Put her with the rest of the Disciples,” Wyble said. Two Ranchers stepped forward and dragged the stunned zombie from the hangar. “And cleanse that.” The Bishop walked away from the pool of blood. Another Rancher stepped forward with a flame thrower and proceeded to burn the blood from the hangar floor.
Capreze shook his head.
“Are you okay, Commander?” Themopolous asked, no longer watching the vid feed.
“No, Doctor,” Capreze answered. “I’m not fine. I’m not fine with that hypocritical psycho spilling blood in my base while I have to tuck tail and run.”
***
“I’ve never heard of a Hill Stomper,” the Rookie said.
“Well before your time, kid,” Jay responded. “They’re what built most of the city/states and cleared a path of civilization through the wasteland. When the Reaper chip came online they only outfitted four of them for full cerebral piloting. Good thing, too.”
“I thought Stanislaw took out the last one years ago,” Masters joined in. “Why haven’t we seen this one until now?”
“Don’t know and don’t really care right now,” Jay answered. “Let’s just steer clear of the thing and get some cover. That storm is almost on us.”
***
The two mechs rounded the mesa and the Rookie pointed to a shadow in the cliff face. “Right there.”
“That?” Jay said. “Kid, we can’t fit two mechs in there.”
“Trust me, it looks smaller than it is. We can crawl them in. And it’s deep enough. Should keep the storm debris from doing any damage.”
“If you say so,” Jay responded doubtfully. “You get that Masters?”
“Yeah, I got it,” Masters answered over the com. “You two crawl in first. I’m staying out here until I know for sure the Stomper has passed by.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
***
“You’ll wanna brace yourself, kid, I haven’t had to crawl a mech in quite a while,” Jay said piloting the salvage mech carefully into the gap in the mesa.
“And yet, on your knees is your favorite position. Ironic, huh?” Masters laughed.
“Hardy-fucking-har,” Jay said. He powered up the mech’s halogens and illuminated the inside of the cavern. Wide lines of bright reds and oranges and browns glittered with minerals as Jay stood the salvage mech upright. “Holy shit…”
“Pretty cool, huh?” the Rookie smiled. “I lived here for a while…”
Jay turned to look at the Rookie. “Lived here?”
***
Alarms blared in Masters’ cockpit. “Shit! Fuck fuck fuck!” Masters cursed. “Hey guys? Looks like big and ugly found us!”
“Get in here, Masters!” Jay shouted over the com. “You can’t take that thing on!”
“Too late! It already saw me!” Masters yelled, powering up all weapons. “You two stay put!”
“What are you going to do?” the Rookie asked.
“Well, luckily Hill Stompers aren’t armed. And their joints aren’t blast shielded,” Masters responded, taking a deep breath. “With concentrated fire and some well placed hits, I think I can take the thing down.”
Master turned to face the Stomper.
***
Jay studied the inside of the cavern, noticing several smaller caves leading off the main one. “You lived here, huh? Don’t worry, I don’t want details… yet.”
“Yeah, for a year,” the Rookie answered.
“A year?!? Are you fucking…? Never mind. So, where do those lead?” Jay asked pointing to the caves.
“Most are dead ends. Some lead deeper into the mesa, some lead further down.”
“Any of them a way out if we need it?”
“Out? No…well, maybe.”
Jay raised his eyebrows, waiting. “Okay, what do you mean by ‘maybe’?”
“There’s an underground river. It comes out somewhere.”
***
Masters watched as the Stomper lifted a boulder that was easily half the size of Masters’ mech. “Whatcha gonna do with that?”
The Stomper pulled its colossal arm back then threw the boulder straight at Masters.
“FuckingJeezusfuckshitfuck!” Masters yelled, barely piloting out of the way. The boulder flew past him and collided with the mesa, shearing part of the cliff face right off.
“What the fuck is going on out there?!?” Jay hollered over the com.
“I think this one is a thinker!” Masters yelled. “It’s trying to play dodgeball with me.”
The Stomper found another boulder and took aim.
***
“About that way out?” Jay yelled as the mech shook and shuddered.
“I don’t really know if it is a way out,” the Rookie said.
“Which cave is it?” Jay insisted.
The Rookie eyed the cavern wall then pointed to a lower cave. “I think it’s that one.”
Jay piloted the mech over, settling into a crouch so the cockpit was level with the cave mouth. The cavern shuddered again. “Masters?” Silence. “Masters?!? Come in!” Silence. “Shit!” Jay yelled.
“Maybe his com is down,” the Rookie offered.
Jay turned on the Rookie. “You sure are optimistic for a brutal killer.”
***
“Jay?!? JAY?!?” Masters screamed into his com, but was met with only static. Masters tried to right his mech after the last boulder clipped his leg, knocking him to the wasteland dirt. “FUCK!”
The Stomper bore down on Masters and was on him in seconds. Masters opened up on the colossal mech with his plasma cannons. The Stomper stumbled back, but quickly regained its ground, reaching down and lifting Master’s mech into the air.
Masters was shaken about in his cockpit, stunned. He fought the grogginess and launched a missile directly into the Stomper’s mid-section. Metal and fire exploded outward.
***
Jay undid the Rookie’s straps and opened the mech’s cockpit.
“Why’re we getting out of the mech?” the Rookie asked.
“Because if this place collapses then we are trapped. I’d like to start heading for the way out, real or not, before being buried. Plus, as strong as the mech is, it’s also holding several kilotons of explosives. I really don’t want to be inside if the thing goes boom.”
“Okay. Works for me,” the Rookie responded, letting Jay help him out of the mech and onto the cave floor. Jay tossed two packs after him and grabbed his carbine.
***
The Stomper stumbled back, flinging Masters’ mech away.
Masters watched the mesa get closer and closer as he and his mech tumbled through the air. The impact was enormous. Alarms blared, claxons rang and every warning light in the mech’s cockpit lit up as Masters hit the ground.
Spots swam before his eyes and he verged on unconsciousness. He helplessly watched the mouth of the cavern crumble and collapse, sealing it off from the wasteland.
“Oh, shit… No…” he whispered, but before he could think further, all light was blocked out and Masters watched the Stomper reach for him again.