Authors: David Dunwoody
“They aren’t responding to me,” Bruce said, lying on his back atop the food bank. “The team won’t respond...do they think I’ve malfunctioned?”
“Well, you
are
preaching human-robot unity,” DaVinci said. “Maybe it’s just as well, fickle as you are. Some of you, I mean.”
“We’re all just about out of ammo. Torches are running low already. We’re not prepared, DaVinci.”
Something nudged his leg. He looked at DaVinci, then down.
It was the dog.
“How the hell...how’d you get up here? How’d you get back home, boy?” DaVinci said, and he and Bruce both sat up to scratch it behind its ears.
They, unfortunately, did not notice the pack of Harvesters behind them and down below, having congregated across the street, now tearing into a storefront.
***
The first couple Harvesters leapt into the curiosity shop. Macendale rose to stand on the counter and beckoned.
They recognized him as an other-kind, not human, not their mission. But they also noticed the mutilated body sitting in an aisle behind it.
More Harvesters pushed their way in and gathered behind the first two. They began to move forward, claws splayed, their white eyes darting back and forth between Cutter and Macendale.
Macendale crouched, reached below the counter, and swung a rifle into view.
The Harvesters didn’t back off this time. They attacked as one.
Macendale was knocked back into the wall with a crash, his firearm flying from his grip - and then they were on him, shoving their claws into his body,
through
his body, and he screamed and laughed hysterically and batted helplessly at their arms as their combined weight pressed down on him.
His chest was torn open and they laid into his circuitry, ripping through wiring, lancing computer components, unearthing his lifetime battery and tugging it from its confines. He grabbed onto the battery, still laughing but now jerking his head from side to side, eyes spinning.
Then they let him go.
The Harvesters were apparently satisfied. They swarmed over Cutter, and the first to reach him, to see the severed skull lying on the floor, plunged forward and unhinged its jaw and swallowed what was left of his head and mind.
***
Bruce and DaVinci both heard the insane laughter when Macendale stumbled from the shop.
Whipping their heads around, they saw him stagger into the street with his electronic guts hanging from a gaping cavity. His eyes, still spinning, passed over them and looked skyward. Macendale shrieked and danced into a tree, then stumbled backward toward the store.
The Harvesters in the street stared at him, some of them being stirred from sleep, clicking their claws in a frenzy as they communicated the chaos unfolding before them.
Bruce took aim at Macendale. “
WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME?!
” The crazed bot wailed, trying to replace its innards. The Harvesters circled him.
“Looks like they might finish the job for us,” DaVinci breathed.
“Not good enough,” Bruce said, and fired.
Macendale spun as the round punched through his head and fire spat from his mouth and eyes. The screams died in his throat.
He fell.
And a thousand claws pointed up at the roof of the food bank.
“They won’t attack us,” DaVinci said, even as he began to back away. “They won’t attack. They have no reason to. They won’t...”
“They didn’t have any reason to attack Macendale.” Bruce stood up. “Get inside!”
DaVinci grabbed the puppy and ran.
The Harvesters swarmed toward the building, springing high into the air, trying to reach the roof. They clawed at the walls and thrashed their arms, every one looking at Bruce. Staring defiantly back, he emptied his Gyro into the mob.
Burning Harvesters fell back and were trampled by others who took their place. It looked hopeless.
Harvesters are swarming the building,
Bruce communicated to Cinnamon and Delmar.
It’s no use picking them off, too many. I’m coming in. We need to reinforce the barricades now!
With one last look toward the monsters gradually filling the street, Bruce retreated.
***
Cinnamon led the humans to the back of the basement and told them, “We’ll take care of the barricades. Even if the Harvesters get inside, they may not find us. If they do...just stay here.”
Clutching Amanda tightly, West watched Bruce and Delmar push more crates against the barricade. Then Cinnamon closed the door and the humans were alone.
“We’re never going to make it the whole thirty days,” DaVinci muttered. “What has it been, a week at most since the Harvest began? And they’ve only been here in Ogden for a day.”
“So what do we do?” Worried Hitch.
“We get the hell out of here,” said West. “We get to the van and we get the hell out of here.”
“Try telling the bots that,” DaVinci replied.
Amanda laid her head against West and whispered, “I can’t take this...”
“You’re right, Mike.” Hitch stood up. “We’ve got to run. We’ve got to get to California, to the naval base - it would have to be more secure than any place here, right?”
“Of course.”
“We’d be better off waiting the Harvest out there.”
“And you expect us to get there, even if we reach the van?” DaVinci scoffed. “They’ll push us off the road and rip that tin can open.”
“What do you want to do, sit through this siege in this fucking basement, starving, in the dark?” Hitch snapped. “Look, this plan isn’t gonna work! Even if Macendale’s gone like Bruce said, the Harvesters are onto us and they are not going to stop until they find us. And what the fuck are you worried about, undreamer? Huh?”
“They tore a bot to pieces!” DaVinci shot back. “They saw us and attacked! They’re not discriminating anymore-”
“It’s Nightmare,” Amanda gasped. “It sicced them on us - it’s telling them what to do. Of course it is, they’re its puppets! It can send them straight after us, even after our bots, even after DaVinci, if it wants to! They probably came directly from the coast to Ogden. Every Harvester in the western U.S. might be out there!”
“If that’s so, then we’ve got a clear path from here to California once we get out of town,” West said. “We have to go!”
A low rumble began outside. The monsters were throwing themselves at the building en masse.
“Tell the bots,” West said to DaVinci. “Tell Bruce.
We are fucking leaving
.”
***
On the street outside, just beyond the Harvester mob, Macendale lay ruined, blown and torn to pieces, barely recognizable as a bot.
Smoke issued from his mouth and nostrils. His eyes were stained black, his frozen grin covered in white froth from his internal lubrication, a foamy substance that was bubbling from every wound in his body.
The Gyro round had taken out a generous portion of the back of his head. And his fingers were idly prodding the wound.
Then, with his other arm, he started dragging himself away; slowly, painstakingly, but without any need to worry about the Harvesters.
He did what he could to suppress his laughter. His throat filled with foam, and it sprayed into the air as he giggled.
The accident back on the freeway had not been his death and resurrection. That was merely his birth.
Now,
he had died and come back...and now they would know the wrath of the new god.
24.
The New Run
“You can’t be serious,” Bruce said to DaVinci.
“I can’t really be much else,” the detective replied. “Yes, I’m serious. And you know, I think they might be right. We’re dead if we stay here, and I mean all of us.”
“We’ll be using the last of our ammo to blast our way out of here,” Cinnamon said as she pushed a stack of boards into place in the barricade.
“Stop that,” Bruce said to her.
“Stop what?”
“Stop reinforcing the barricade.” Bruce turned to look at his robot comrades. “Start taking it down.”
“Are you
damaged?
” Cinnamon asked.
“No, still in one piece. Now do it.”
Bruce...
She said in his head.
No,
he interrupted.
They will take us all apart when they get inside. I know what you were thinking, Cinnamon: that even if the humans were all killed, we could still make it to the naval base. Not anymore. We’ve been targeted.
Delmar entered the conversation.
By the Harvesters? But they’ve never shown that sort of intelligence or strategic ability. They’re animals - no, not even that - biological weapons, with a single unalterable purpose.
I mean, right?
Bruce answered,
Right, but still wrong, old friend. The Harvesters have a god. And that god has targeted us. I suspect Nightmare can bend them to its will at any time.
“Is there any particular reason you’re all just staring at each other?” DaVinci asked.
“Let’s go,” Bruce said. “Get the others.”
***
They went upstairs, into the lobby.
The bots crept forward, to the barricade they’d erected in the entrance.
“Both of you, give me two rounds each,” Bruce said. Cinnamon and Delmar complied. “I’m going to rig these to explode. Take out the barricade, clear a path through the Harvesters. Hopefully.”
He whispered back to West, “Do you have the keys for the van?”
The doctor nodded. Amanda prodded him. “What if Nightmare sees us? I mean, through the Harvesters’ eyes. I don’t know if it can do that.”
As Bruce wired the Gyro rounds together, then reached into the laceration in his arm, prying out a small auxiliary battery - he overheard Amanda. And agreed with her fear.
“Amanda,” he called softly, “I’m still connected to your mind via my nanotech. I’m not going to put you at risk, but I believe that I can possibly access your subconscious - and Nightmare - if you’re asleep. And if the god is still preying about in there.”
“And do what?” Hitch demanded.
“And distract Nightmare. I can put myself on autopilot as far as running to the van goes - meanwhile, I’ll really be in there, with Nightmare, and I’ll do what I can to take its attention away from what’s happening here.”
“What makes you think you can do that?” Hitch shot back.
“I already know Nightmare,” Bruce said. “It’s been in my head, too. I was the first.”
“My God,” West breathed. “It was you?”
“You mean it was you,” DaVinci said, “who made the decision to exterminate mankind?”
“You and me both, it would seem,” Bruce replied.
“Touché,” said DaVinci before falling silent.
“All right,” Bruce said to Amanda, “I can use remote impulses to render you unconscious. Then I’m going in.”
He turned to Cinnamon. “Once Amanda is under, finish wiring the bomb with this battery. Remember, once you’ve attached the battery, it’ll be a matter of seconds before the rounds explode.”
Cinnamon nodded. “And you’ll essentially be on autopilot.”
Bruce nodded.
“Be careful,” Cinnamon said to him.
“I will.”
Walking back to Amanda, he took her hands. Looking at West and Hitch, he said, “You’ll have to get her into the van.”
“I’ll do it,” said Hitch. “You’ve gotta open the damn thing and start her up, Mike.”
West nodded reluctantly.
The puppy approached them. Its legs were shaking, tail between them, as it listened to the attacking Harvesters. Bruce patted its head. “We’re leaving now, Wally. You’re gonna have to stay. It would be better for you if you stay. We’ll lead them away, most likely - away from this building, maybe this town. You’ll be safe. You’ll make it.”
Amanda stared in wonder at the bot’s compassion toward the animal. Bruce stroked its jaw and head until it seemed calm. “Now go downstairs,” Bruce told it, pointing. “Downstairs!”
The dog took a few paces away, stopped to look back. “Go on, boy!” Said Bruce. But it didn’t look like Wally would leave until they did.
“All right. Well, you just stay back here.” Bruce turned to Amanda, who smiled at him, tears welling in her eyes. “We’re really going to be okay, aren’t we? We’re going to make it.”
“That’s my mission,” Bruce said. Then, his eyelids fluttered. Hers fell closed.