Machine God: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (19 page)

“Haven’t found anything yet?”

“This location is useless."

Ann-Lyze stayed next to him.

The man in charge said,

“Our intel says this location could be a goldmine. Are you saying our intel is false?”

“I’m saying there’s nothing valuable in my perimeter.”

“Then you better dig harder.”

Ann-Lyze looked past his shoulder and gave me an I’m So Sorry Look.

Yeah, I was sorry, too. 

She was so close, and yet so distant.

If only I could zap this superior sucker out of existence.

“I guess I have to level up my engagement."

“You better.”

And that was that. 

The superior waved me aside like a disgruntled slave owner. I approached the new trash section and started carrying more debris. My timer said we had about fifty-four minutes left till the sandstorm. My chances of talking to Ann-Lyze in private dwindled with every breath. Not to mention the lack of ‘value’ I dug up until now—some broken machine parts, empty rifle mags and lots of concrete. What kind of intel claimed this was a treasure chamber? 

I was beginning to think the authorities of the Bulwark just sent us out to work our faces off. 

To keep our rebellious spirits in check. 

To weaken us for the propaganda, um, excuse me, the Correction Course, later this evening.

I already dreaded Konforma's squeaky voice and her endless ramblings on obeying and bowing.

Nothing was working as planned.

So I moved more pieces away.

Dug a bit harder.

Glanced at the brunette and the superior, stuck together like permasteel chains. Focused back on my work until a shout caught my attention.

57

Male. 

Anxious. 

And loud.

One digger stormed into our section and flailed his hands like a mad man. Everyone in my perimeter looked up at him, including the soldiers and the superior. He addressed the shouting digger with attitude.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Get back to work.”

“The ground gave in…Nathan fell through…”

“Fell through?”

The poor man wasn’t able to form one coherent sentence. He pointed toward the adjacent hall and sweated his skin layers off.

“Come, please look. He needs help, now.”

The superior followed up together with two guards.

The rest of the diggers motioned to join his lead, but the man in charge didn't like it.

“No, you guys stay. I’ll handle this alone.”

I was the first to speak up.

“Maybe you do need our help. Let us at least check out what’s going on."

The diggers in my group supported my suggestion. The superior found himself outnumbered and didn't look like causing any more friction. Especially not with the end of the shift being so close.

“Fine.”

Soldiers and workers left their position and accompanied the superior to the neighboring hall. A bunch of diggers stood around in the middle, near a trash pile. They raised their bewildered faces.

The superior roared again.

“What the hell are you standing around for?”

One of them pointed at the hole in front of them. The rusty ground had in deed given way and collapsed into the level beneath. Down in the rubble below, I recognized Nathan and two other co-diggers buried under piles of concrete rubble. They were still alive but flinched and waved at us with shivering hands. When Ann-Lyze saw her father, she freaked out. Covered her mouth and squeaked.

“Father, no.”

The superior held her back with both arms and tried to appease her.

“I’m sorry, but don’t worry, we’ll help him.”

“How?”

Good question. 

Three diggers lay below with no way of getting back up, at least not with the tools we possessed. Worse, time was running out—I counted thirty-three minutes till we had to escape the approaching sandstorm. 

Under pressure.

The superior licked his lips and pointed to his nearest guard.

“Do you carry a grapple gun?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Zipline down there and get Nathan back up.”

The soldiers halted for a second. With his face shield and the helmet on, I couldn’t gauge his expression, but judging from his hesitation, he wasn’t pleased about the order. Neither was the superior.

“What, has the dust polluted your ear channels? Get the hell down.”

“Sir, we have less than twenty minutes till the storm."

“And you have less than ten seconds before I single-handedly degrade you to compost."

He probably didn't carry the authority to order that—only the committee possessed that power. But the threat worked anyway. The soldier remembered his low rank in the command chain.

“Ay, sir.”

He unleashed the cabled dart into the ground, fixed the anchor points and slowly ziplined down to the rubble where the diggers lay buried. Everyone of us watched the soldier attempting his rescue mission. He aimed for Nathan first, told him to wrap his arms around his armor and ziplined back up. Some of the diggers clapped, even Ann-Lyze wiped her eyes and smiled for the first time.

Hope was back, at least for a moment.

Because halfway up, a metallic droning screeched below our boots. Everyone held their breaths and swapped confused glances with each other. Silence settled in, except for the crunching and croaking.

The superior jittered and mumbled out the words.

“What is that?”

My glance fell to the space between my boots. The tiny trash pieces vibrated, a steel plate bent downwards with a caw. That was the sound of a ground giving way.

58

I fell.

They fell.

Through the ground cell.

Instinct awoke.

My right arm stretched out in mid-fall and grabbed a plate still connected to the floor we had just slipped from. Ann-Lyze clung to my left leg, I told her to squeeze tight. Meters next to us, three diggers and a soldier plunged into the dark underground and shouted their lungs out. More and more rusty ground from the floor crumbled. Another section of plates tumbled, a trash pile collapsed into the abyss. Looked like half the floor sank into the darkness, together with the people.

Except for four.

The superior and his soldiers. 

They scrambled for cover and made it to the other side. I shouted their names. The superior turned around and approached the new hole. Looked down at me with a sweat-covered face. 

I said,

“Help us get back up.”

He saw Ann-Lyze hanging onto my leg and ventured one step forward, but the floor plate under him squeaked.

He swallowed hard and stepped back. Checked his commcuff and licked his dry lips.

“The sandstorm is about to hit this area.”

"Just give me your hand and pull us up. It's only going to take a few seconds."

He pondered my suggestion.

For a total of 0.5 nanosecs.

"Can't do it. Blame the storm, boy."

Coward.

Which came at no surprise.

“At least give us your grapple gun, so we can pull us back up.”

He pondered my offer for a second but tilted his head away.

“I’m sorry. I have to move.”

He left my field of vision and ran away with his guards. 

“Come back," I said.

It was hopeless, of course he wouldn’t. 

The moron posed like a ruler when everything went well, but cringed at the slightest challenge. He’d probably return to the APC and ride back to the cluster without ever calling for backup.

Seriously.

The Bulwark had given their leadership positions to the most noxious people imaginable.

Fitting in a way.

“I can’t hold much longer."

That was Ann-Lyze, squeezing my leg and grinding her teeth. 

She looked up at me with fearful eyes. 

Despite the predicament, I felt serene.

The adrenaline sharpened my senses.

What to do?

Ann-Lyze was a few seconds away from falling, and the ground plate I held onto was soon going to collapse with us. The other soldier crawled near the crumbled rubble in the underground and looked wounded. I shouted at him in the most authoritarian voice I could muster up.

“Soldier. Give me your grapple gun.”

The guy’s helmet faced me from below.

I said,

“Your superior has left you alone and he’s not coming back. Help me and I’ll help you leave this ruin."

Dramatic pause on my end.

"Now give me your grapple gun.”

Staccato statements.

But they worked, somewhat.

He reached for his side holster, unsheathed the gun and tossed it at my direction. Missed by at least two meters which cooked up the saliva in my mouth.

“Try a little harder.”

The guy crawled to the spot where the grapple gun hit the ground and picked it up.

“Aim at my direction.”

This time, the grapple gun flew near to my legs. Ann-Lyze quickly let go of her right arm and caught the firearm. She almost slipped from my leg.

“Careful,” I said.

“Got it.”

She handed me the grapple gun and used both of her arms to wrap my left leg. With my free hand, I activated the gun, aimed its dart at a ground plate that looked solid and pushed the trigger. The dart connected, the cable unrolled itself. 

“Now I want you to squeeze harder than ever before. We’re going for a swing.”

“I trust you.”

When she tightened her grip, I let go of the ground plate over me and clutched the grapple gun. The cable swung us around like a pendulum. Ann-Lyze squeezed my leg like a mushy sausage.

I said,

“Still into me?”

“More than ever.”

The faint humor broke some of the tension. When the momentum of the swing ended, I de-rolled the cable from my grapple gun and ziplined down into the underground. Ann-Lyze’s boots touched surface, I landed next to her, just in time. Because many meters above us, the floor plates grated. Four separated from the ceiling and launched at our direction.

“Watch out.”

I wrapped myself around Ann-Lyze and pushed her sideways. The plates collided with the ground and set off waves of dust. Ann-Lyze coughed and wiped some of the particles from her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“And you?”

“Better than ever.”

She looked up with her flabbergasted face, but it was true. Challenges like these made me come alive. 

I checked the perimeter and looked for more survivors. We were in some kind of industrial tunnel basement which was ripe with trash and rubble from above. The dim light allowed me to recognize silhouettes and the basic layout of the area. I helped Ann-Lyze back up and maneuvered around the wreckage. A coarse voice sounded behind us.

59

It belonged to Nathan. 

He moved out the pile of rubble and coughed blood. Ann-Lyze stormed toward her father and tried to help him up.

The second she touched his back, he screamed.

Probably from a bad, bad injury.

I knelt next to him.

“Where are you hurt?”

“Everywhere but my brain.”

He forced his face to smile but the pain lurked behind his eyes. He wasn’t the youngest anymore. Besides, a fall from up there would have shattered anyone’s bones, even mine. 

Near our place, I found the soldier and two diggers leaned against the wall. He was the one who threw me that grapple gun.

“Do you have a first-aid kid?”

“What?”

“First-aid. For the wounded.”

He checked the side pockets of his armordillo and found the medkit. Every soldier, including me on my first mission, carried one of these packs. 

A part of me smiled again. 

Ann-Lyze opened the medkit, took out the injector, slid in a capsule and found one of Nathan's veins. She also took out some spray and disinfected the open wounds. 

Ann-Lyze knew what she was doing. 

I watched her and raised my neck. The broken ceiling seemed so far away. Even with my grapple gun, I had no secure anchor point. The rest of the floor could easily give way and crash down. Even now, tiny pebbles of concrete rained down on us with layers of dust. 

A thundering roar droned from above.

My eyes fell back to Ann-Lyze and her father.

“Another floor giving way?”

“No,” Nathan said. 

“That’s the sandstorm.”

60

Not looking good.

We were down in some industrial tunnel, surrounded by trash and darkness. Up high, dust snowed as the sandstorm raged around the sector we were entrapped in.

The howling increased, and so did the fear.

Not looking good.

At all.

When Ann-Lyze finished treating her father, I asked him again.

“How long does the storm last?”

Nathan sounded so weak.

“I’m no meteorologist, but it can take hours, sometimes days. These storms are unpredictable."

He squeezed out every word, sounded as if his stomach twisted inside out.

“How are you?”

“I try to make it.”

Ann-Lyze chimed in.

“You’re going to make it.”

Daughter-father affection. 

The warmest thing going in the dark down here.

“What now?” Ann-Lyze said.

“Don’t know. We could either wait for the storm to reside or..."

I turned toward the dark corridors in the tunnel system.

Nothing but moist and obscurity awaited us.

“We could walk around here and see if there’s an easier exit to the top."

“Well, I’m too weak to lead,” Nathan said while his daughter supported him.

The soldier from before and a couple of diggers staggered toward us. For some reason, everyone looked at me with expecting eyes.

“What’s the verdict?” one of the diggers said.

My eyes closed as I listened to my instinct. Despite all the crap that happened to me, my inner feelings never led me astray. There was a compass inside of me which always showed me the way.

The second I looked into the obscure corridor up ahead, my skin crawled up and a feeling of familiarity overcame me. 

I had never been here.