Dead Mech (45 page)

“Um, no, Your Grace, I do not,” Montoya
responded, honestly confused and worried.

“It means no more bowing to that pubescent
pervert! I am now Archbishop!”

***

“How’re the stealth systems holding out?”
Mathew asked Shiner, still not quite understanding the
modifications that Shiner had made to make the mech invisible to
sensors.

“100% capacity, “Shiner answered. “We will
be able to arrive at the stronghold undetected as long as we stay
off the relay net.”

“Then let’s stay off,” Mathew said.

“I am uncertain of what we shall accomplish
once we are there. We cannot disengage from each other and we will
be spotted visually if we get too close.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll figure that out once we
get there,” Mathew responded. “There’s always a solution.”

***

“Are we almost there, Montoya?” Wyble asked
standing directly behind the Deacon, staring out into the
wasteland. “I am in the mood to celebrate my ascension with a nice
military victory.”

“Sensors show the mech heathens just over
the ridge, Your Grace… I mean, Your Holiness,” the Deacon
answered.

Archbishop Wyble clapped his hands with joy.
“Oh, Montoya, it’s like God’s music to my ears! Archbishop! Praise
the True Disciple for smiling upon me!” The Archbishop clapped
Montoya on the shoulder then returned to his seat. “Now, what about
reinforcements?”

“The UDC and Disciple army are close behind,
Your Holiness.”

***

“Um, hey guys?” Jenny said, her brow
furrowed. “Are these readings right?”

Marin leaned over and looked at the vid
screen. “Shit, there must be a hundred thousand of them or more!
What the fuck?!?”

“Fucking deader army, just like the one from
Foggy Bottom,” Masters answered over the com. “They must be from
the closest city/state.”

“Yeah, well, they’re heading right for our
people,” Jay said, joining in the conversation. “I know our folks
are good, but they aren’t ‘kill a hundred thousand’ good.”

“Then I guess we need to hurry,” Marin said,
pushing the train’s throttle to full.

***

Jethro turned from his console and watched
as Harlow, Capreze and Themopolous carried Bisby into the
transport. “Jeezus, is he going to be alright?”

“I don’t know,” Themopolous answered,
yanking down a bunk from the transport wall. “I cauterized the
wound, but he lost a lot of blood.” Capreze and Harlow carefully
placed Bisby in the bunk. The mech pilot groaned, sweat beading
about his face. Themopolous pulled a chair close, opened her med
kit and started to roll up her sleeve.

“Whatcha doin’, Doc?” Harlow asked.

“I’m the only one with his blood type,” she
answered, swabbing her arm.

***

The transports came to a stop at the top of
the ridge.

“Why haven’t they spotted us?” Archbishop
Wyble asked.

“The geothermal vents below the surface are
interfering with the sensors, Your Holiness,” Deacon Montoya
responded. “It’s given us the element of surprise.”

“Good, Deacon, as it appears our new allies
failed in destroying the pilots and their mechs,” Wyble said,
placing binocs to his eyes and focusing on the Skinner corpses.
“But, then no one would expect savages to be very effective.” He
lowered the binocs. “We, however, are not savages. Take us down
there, Montoya.”

“Yes, Your Holiness.”

***

Jethro turned away as Themopolous inserted
the wide gauge needle into her vein. She set a container at her
feet and let her blood fill it.

“Damn, Doc. That’s a bedside manner,” Jethro
joked, trying to fight back nausea.

Harlow looked from Bisby’s ashen face to
Commander Capreze’s sour expression. “What’s the plan, Commander?
We’re down a mech pilot and without our allies. Still wanting to
make a stand?”

Before the Commander could answer, Jethro
gasped. “Holy Fuck! We’ve got company!” He turned to the others.
“Rancher transports! Five minutes out!”

“Guess that answers that,” Capreze said,
stepping past Harlow.

***

“Yo, Jethro!” Jay called over the com.

“Yeah, Boss?” Jethro responded.

“Looks like you have quite a few hostiles
heading your way!

“Yeah, we just picked them up,” Jethro
responded. “I’m losing my touch. I should have adjusted better for
the geothermal interference.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, boy?
These aren’t anywhere near you.”

“Huh? What are
you
talking
about?”

“The deader army and UDC transports coming
right at you. We’re going to over take them and try my new toy on a
bigger scale, but you folks should think about moving.”

“Oh, that’s fucking great,” Jethro
grumbled.

***

Capreze climbed the leg of Bisby’s mech,
quickly reaching the cockpit.

“Um, what the hell are you doing?” Harlow
yelled up at the Commander, having followed him from the
transport.

“Getting ready for battle,” he answered
nonchalantly. “We were down a mech pilot. We aren’t anymore.”

Harlow tapped her com. “Hey, Rache? You
wanna talk some sense into your father?”

Rachel laughed. “You kidding? He’s already
in the fucking mech! You honestly think he can be talked out?”

Bisby’s mech took two steps back and then
stumbled slightly forward. “Sorry,” Capreze apologized. “It’s been
a while.”

“Fucking classic,” Harlow muttered.

***

“Um, Commander?”

“Not now, Jethro, I really need to
concentrate on getting my mech legs back,” the Commander said.

“Yeah, well, Jay just commed. We’ve got a
deader army not far behind the Ranchers, sir.”

“Shit,” Capreze swore. “How many?”

“At least 100,000, sir.”

Capreze powered up his weapons while
watching Harlow settle into her cockpit. He turned his attention on
Rachel, seeing his daughter bouncing her mech from one foot to the
other in anticipation of the coming battle. “Get out of here,
Jethro. We’ll hold off the Ranchers, you just get Themopolous and
Bisby a safe distance away.”

***

“Are the Disciples ready for glory,
Montoya?” Archbishop Wyble asked, strapping body armor on over his
robes.

“Yes, Your Holiness. All transports have
reported they are ready to release their Disciples on your
order.”

“Wonderful. Tell them to anoint the damned
mechs at their discretion.”

“Yes, Your Holiness,” the Deacon said. “I
have transferred our weapons control to your seat, Your Holiness. I
assumed you would want to experience the glory of this battle first
hand.”

“Delightful assumption, Montoya! You know me
so well!” Having secured his body armor, the Archbishop returned to
his seat and activated the weapons systems.

***

“Doc? I’m gonna have to ask you to strap
in,” Jethro said as he readied the transport for evac. “We’re
bailin’.”

“What about the others? If they get wounded,
they’ll need me,” the Doctor said, securing the blood dripping into
Bisby’s arm.

“If they get wounded then it’s already too
late,” Jethro responded. “It’s about to get very hairy around here
and a non-combat doctor, one armed mech pilot and wheelchair bound
mechanic are just going to get in the way. Trust me, Doc, we need
to put some distance between us and the shit that’s about to go
down.”

***

Timson stepped into the engine control room.
“I’ve got my best medic checking on your pilot and the Boiler boy,”
he said to the Rookie. “They’re each dehydrated and pretty banged
up, but should be fine.”

“Good to hear,” the Rookie responded.
“They’re both lucky to be alive.”

“Um, aren’t we pushing it a little hard?”
Timson asked, noticing the throttle position. “What’s the
hurry?”

“About 20 minutes from the tale end of a
deader army,” Marin answered. “We’re gonna test the disc’s full
capabilities.”

“Are the tracks clear?” Timson asked,
alarmed. “Because at this speed it’ll suck to crash.”

***

“Let’s go say hello,” Capreze said over the
com. “No need to wait here.” With that he piloted his mech into a
dead run towards the Rancher transports.

“Right there with you, Papa Bear,” Rachel
called. “Let’s send these wasteland fucknuts to the Glory they so
desperately want!”

Harlow shook her head and piloted her mech
after them, weapons system at full. “This is just great,” she
said.

“What’s that?” Rachel asked.

“Now I have two fucking Caprezes to look
after!”

The Commander’s mech stumbled again,
toppling and rolling to a stop.

“Sorry!” Capreze shouted. “I’ve got
this.”

Harlow sighed.

***

“All transports full stop!” the Archbishop
commanded as he watched Capreze’s mech fall. “What are they playing
at, Montoya?”

“I’m not sure, Your Holiness,” the Deacon
answered. “It may be some sort of diversionary tactic. Could there
be more mechs about? Maybe they have other allies we are not aware
of. It is hard to say with the sensor interference.”

The Archbishop thought for a moment. “Send
out three transports. Let’s see if they have a trap ready to
spring.”

“Yes, Your Holiness,” Montoya said, sending
the orders. The three closest transports sped out towards the mechs
ready for battle.

***

“We’ve got incoming!” Harlow yelled. “Get
your ass off the ground, sir!”

Capreze stood his mech upright and took a
moment to center himself. He slowly flexed his fingers then made a
fist with each mech hand. He tried a couple of practice jabs
followed by a right upper cut. “Okay, I still got it.”

Four RPGs flew past his cockpit towards the
onrushing transports

“Them’s some good moves, Papa Bear, but
there’s an easier way than the old one-two,” Rachel said, trying
not to laugh.

The transports initiated counter measures,
taking out the RPGs.

“You were saying?” Capreze mocked.

***

“Well done, Montoya, well done,” Archbishop
Wyble commended the Deacon. “Please pass that on to the other
transports.”

“Yes, Your Holiness,” Montoya responded.
“How shall we retaliate?”

“Hmmm… I believe they haven’t seen
our
plasma guns. Let’s show them, shall we?”

“Wise choice, Your Holiness,” the Deacon
said. “I’ll coordinate the others.”

Montoya activated his com and sent
instructions to each of the other transport drivers. He tapped at
his console and readied the guns. “Just awaiting your orders, Your
Holiness.”

The Archbishop stared out the windshield at
the charging mechs. “Teach them about power, Deacon.”

“With pleasure,” Montoya grinned.

***

“What the fuck are those?” Harlow called
over the com as four small cannons per transport became active.
“They look like little plasma cannons.”

The cannons began to fire rapidly, sending
small bolts of plasma at the mechs.

“Shit! They
are
plasma cannons!”
Harlow yelled, tucking her mech into an evasive roll.

She positioned her transition from roll to
leap so that she landed her mech directly in front of one of the
transports, bringing her left foot down on the front, smashing the
driver and anyone in the transport’s cockpit into a pulp. She
ground down for good measure.

***

Two plasma bolts found their mark, knocking
Capreze’s mech onto its back. The Commander shook his head and
assessed the damage. “Damn! That was exhilarating!” Confident all
systems were go, Capreze kicked back upright, ducking and dodging
more blasts as he charged the closest transport.

Reaching the transport, Capreze lashed out,
swiping two of the plasma cannons from the transport’s side. He
threw a right hook, punching a hole in the armor plating. Instantly
zombies streamed from the transport’s hold and clambered up his
mech’s arm.

“Ahhh! They’re like ants! Get ‘em off!”

Capreze heard Rachel laughing over the
com.

***

Wyble growled. “They are not impressed,
Montoya.” The Archbishop stood and grabbed the com. “All
transports! Anoint the battlefield. Loose the Disciples upon the
heathens! I want chaos! I want anarchy! We will have victory over
these mech devils or I will personally make sure every last one of
you knows the shame and damnation of a head shot! You will never
attain the Glory of becoming a Disciple!”

Wyble threw the com handset towards Montoya,
forcing the Deacon to duck.

“Oh, quit your flinching! That threat
includes you, Montoya! You had better start acting like one of
God’s warriors!”

***

“Holy fuck! Where do they keep all that
shit?” Rachel shouted as the Rancher transports sprayed gallon upon
gallon of blood and offal at the mechs and upon the wasteland
ground. “I mean Jeezus, that’s just wrong!”

“Don’t let it get on you! It’s like a
fucking deader magnet!” Harlow warned.

“Yeah, too late for that!” Capreze
responded, still plucking zombies from his mech. He threw them back
at the transports, their rotten bodies exploding against the metal,
adding more gore to the scene.

At once all transports dropped their rear
ramps and dozens of zombies poured forth from each.

***

Jethro hit the throttle and the transport
shot forward, away from the action. “How’s Biz doin’ back there,
Doc?”

“His color is improving. He needs another
pint, but I don’t think I have it in me,” Themopolous
responded.

“Yeah, don’t kill yourself,” Jethro said,
watching the rear vid feeds as the mechs engaged the Ranchers. “I
do need you to do me a favor though.”

“What’s that, Jethro?”

“Four is still out in the waste. Now that I
don’t need it to be my relay, we could really use the back up. I
need you to bring it to us.”

***

“We’re approaching the deaders,” Jenny
announced, her eyes on the scanner. “ETA Five minutes.”