Dead Mech (6 page)

“I don’t know. They’re too far out,” Mathew
responded.

Jay came up behind them, appraising the
approaching mechs. “That’s Biz.” He turned and strode back to
whatever he had been working on.

“How do you know?” June called after
him.

The mech pilots in attendance each gave her
a look of annoyance. June bristled at their stares. “What? It’s a
logical question. They have to be at least 200 yards out.”

All looked away.

***

Everyone cleared from the hangar doors as
Masters brought his mech in for docking. He powered it down and
popped open the cockpit.

“Hey Matty?” he called down below, undoing
the straps holding him in place.

Mathew, about to leave the hangar and head
back to the control tower, stopped and turned. “Yeah?”

“Capreze wants us on pyre duty.”

All heads in the hangar turned to look at
Mathew, he met everyone’s gaze, taking in their ‘better you than
me’ looks.

“Gotcha. I’ll round up the gear while you
get your mech settled,” Mathew called up to Masters.

“Thanks, man.”

***

Rachel maneuvered her mech into its previous
post as Bisby’s lone mech lumbered into the hangar.

She fought hard to keep the tears back, but
it was a losing battle. She sobbed uncontrollably, wrapping her
arms about herself as she rocked in the cockpit.

Her com buzzed and she struggled to pull
herself together.

“Hey, you okay?” Mathew’s voice crackled.
She sucked back tears, choking a bit.

“No, Matty, I’m not,” she whispered.

“What happened? Where’s Stan?”

“I don’t know what happened. Biz wouldn’t
say,” she responded between hiccups.

“And Stan?”

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. “He’s on the
pyre.”

***

Jethro pulled his head away from the
cockpit, face scrunched in disgust. “Jeezus Bisby! Did you shit
yourself?”

Bisby climbed down the last few rungs on his
mech’s right leg, glaring up at Jethro. “Just fix the god damn
targeter. I was shooting by feel, which totally wasted ammo and cut
things way too fucking close.”

Jethro heard the tone in Bisby’s voice,
knowing his guess was right; Bisby did shit himself. It must have
gotten pretty bad out there.

“Everyone coming back today?” Jethro asked,
ignoring the stench and climbing fully into the mech’s cockpit.

“No, Jethro. They aren’t.”

***

“Can you give me a ride out there?” Doctor
Themopolous asked, approaching Mathew and Masters as they climbed
into the waiting ATV.

“Sure thing, Doc. We’re just heading out to
keep watch on the body,” Mathew responded.

The Doctor climbed into the back of the ATV
as Masters fired up the engines. Mathew double-checked the
auto-carbines’ clips, stowing his and Masters’ in the rack between
the front seats.

Masters gunned the engine and the ATV burst
from the hangar. Themopolous hung on, white knuckled as they sped
over the earthen terrain, past Rachel’s mech, heading out to the
funeral pyre.

***

Bisby let the water run over him, washing
the filth from his body.

“Biz?” Harlow’s voice called from the shower
room door. “You in here?”

Bisby didn’t respond.

“Capreze’s looking for you,” Harlow
continued. “He’s pretty pissed you didn’t report to him before
cleaning up.”

Bisby sighed. “Tell him I’ll be right
there.”

Harlow stayed put. “Did he suffer?”

Bisby tensed. “Yes, Harlow, he suffered. But
only until he blew his own brains out.”

Bisby shut off the water, grabbed a towel
and pushed past Harlow.

Harlow slumped against the wall, slowly
lowering to the floor, fighting back the tears.

***

The ATV skidded to a halt, kicking up sand
and dirt, coating the pyre and Stanislaw’s body.

“Jeezus, Masters! Show some fucking
respect!” Mathew yelled.

“Don’t even start with me, Jespers,” Masters
barked, grabbing his carbine as he climbed from the ATV. He offered
Themopolous a hand.

“Thanks,” she muttered, still shook up by
the wild ride from the base.

Themopolous started towards the corpse.
Mathew grabbed his carbine and followed, Masters right behind
him.

“You worried Bisby was wrong? That Stan
might come back?” Mathew asked Themopolous.

When the three saw the body, they knew
Stanislaw wasn’t coming back.

***

“I am positive that you know debriefing
protocol is to see me before you shower, pilot,” Capreze growled at
Bisby as the pilot stood at attention. “The sooner you report, the
less you forget.”

“With all due respect sir, I’ll never forget
today,” Bisby responded through clenched teeth, his anger barely
contained.

“I do not doubt that, pilot, but that is not
your call to make. Understand me?”

Bisby ground his teeth together, trying to
hold his tongue.

“I asked if you understand-”

“I SHIT MY FUCKING SUIT SIR!” Bisby roared
at Capreze.

Stunned, Capreze sat down in his chair.

***

Doctor Themopolous didn’t bother opening her
medical kit, she knew the cause of death. Masters looked over her
shoulder, grimacing at the sight.

“Did he do that?” Masters asked.

“It appears so. I’d say cause of death was a
self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.”

“What the fuck happened out there?”

“I’m sure we’ll all find out soon enough
once Bisby makes his report to the Commander.”

“Must have been some crazy shit to take out
Stanislaw…”

“Hey Guys,” Mathew called a few feet from
Masters and Themopolous.

Masters turned, raising his rifle. “Whatcha
got Matty?”

“Incoming. Half mile out.”

***

Bisby, seated in front of Capreze’s desk,
lifted his head from his hands, eyes burning. “That’s it.”

Capreze, fingers steepled in front of him,
sighed. “That’s not good.”

Uncontrollably, Bisby laughed. A short,
harsh bark of a laugh. “Ya think?”

“What I mean, Biz,” Capreze stood. “Is that
the behavior the deader was exhibiting sounds frighteningly like
adaptation.”

Bisby watched as the Commander paused, then
continued. “The zombies have some reasoning ability, but no impulse
control.
They
don’t hesitate…”

“Sir?” Bisby asked, exhaustion fighting for
his mind.

“Hmmm…?” Capreze muttered, lost in
thought.

“Stanislaw…?”

Reality ripped Capreze from his musing.

***

“My God, how did they get here so fast?”
Masters called out, placing a fresh clip in his carbine and taking
aim. He squeezed the trigger, watching as several yards away three
zombie heads exploded.

Mathew flung a grenade at the approaching
undead, hoping his timing was right. Within a second the grenade
exploded sending pieces of zombies high into the air. He looked
behind him back towards the base. He tapped his com.

“Hey Rache? Sure could use some help out
here,” he said, staring at the unmoving mech still positioned by
the hangar.

“Hey Rache? You in there?”

***

“Rache? Rachel!” Mathew shouted over his
com. Rachel pulled herself from her grief.

“What Matty?” she answered weakly.

“Um, are you watching this at all?!?” Mathew
continued shouting. “We are about to get overrun here!”

Rachel shook her head violently, painfully.
She checked her scanners and gasped. “Oh, God! I’m so sorry! I’ll
be there in one minute!”

She set her mech to full power, not
bothering with the motor drive and began to run the thing towards
the pyre. “Hold on!”

“That’s the idea! Hurry please!”

Rachel quickly shoved the idea of losing
Mathew also out of her mind.

***

“She’s on her way!” Mathew shouted to
Masters and the Doctor, barely heard over the concussions from the
carbines.

“What can I do?” Themopolous yelled.

“Grab the ammo bag from the ATV!” Masters
yelled back. “Pull out all the loaded clips!” He squeezed the
trigger, more zombies fell. “Toss a fresh one to us when we call
out! Fill the empty ones we toss back to you!”

Themopolous dashed to the ATV and grabbed
the bag, nearly pulling her shoulder out of socket from the weight.
She dragged the bag closer to Mathew and Masters.

“Okay, I’m ready!” she called.

***

Rachel’s mech ran past the funeral pyre, not
bothering to wait for Masters and Mathew to stop firing. Bullets
ricocheted off the battle machine’s frame.

Mathew, Masters and Themoplolous watched in
awe as Rachel ran her mech into the middle of the dozens of zombies
still left. Furious, she lifted her metal fists and smashed down,
crushing the undead beneath her. She did the same with her massive
feet, mashing the creatures into pulp.

Within seconds, all was still.

Rachel’s chest heaved, then seized. Far
away, Mathew’s voice called to her, but it all went black before
she could respond.

***

“Commander?” Harlow called over the com.

“Yes, Harlow?” Capreze responded, walking
with Bisby from his office. “Whatcha got?”

“Looks like company may have followed
Bisby.”

Capreze glanced at Biz and narrowed his
eyes. “I wasn’t aware of that. How far out?”

“At the funeral pyre. Sounds like Rachel
came in and saved my boy’s ass, but…”

Capreze stopped, Bisby did also, waiting,
not privy to the conversation.

“But what?”

Harlow hesitated, “Well, sir, it sounds like
Rachel may have passed out. Want me out there?”

“I want everyone out there. Get the
transport ready and get the staff loaded up.”

***

Mathew lowered Rachel’s unconscious form to
the ground, having just retrieved her from the cockpit. “Holy
crap!” he gasped, slumping to the ground from the exertion.

Checking Rachel’s pulse while pulling back
an eyelid, Doctor Themopolous turned to Masters. “Your turn to
help. Hand me my bag.”

Masters grabbed the med bag next to the pyre
and handed it to Themopolous. She shook her head. “No, I need you
to pull out the injector and grab the small red vial in the side
pouch.”

Masters did as he was told, Mathew rolled
onto his side to get a better view.

***

Jay manned the transport controls, powered
up the vehicle and checked the instrument panels. “Ready to go
Commander.”

Capreze did a quick head count. “Alright,
Jay, we’re all loaded. Take us out there.”

“Gotcha.”

Capreze clicked his com. “Mathew?”

“Yes, sir?” Mathew responded, still sounding
winded.

“We are on our way. How’s my girl?”

There was a slight pause. “She’s coming
around now, sir. Doc says she’ll be fine.”

“Good to hear. Site secure?”

“Yes sir. Your girl took care of that.”

“Excellent. We’ll be there in just a
moment.”

Capreze severed the communication as the
transport left the hangar.

***

Mathew helped Rachel to her feet. She
wobbled a little, but stayed upright.

“Easy now,” Mathew said. Rachel smiled at
him weakly, gently removing his hand from her arm.

“I’m fine. I got this,” Rachel
responded.

“Take these,” Doctor Themopolous ordered,
handing Rachel two red pills.

“What are those?” Masters asked.

“Just some energy pills, they’ll give her a
boost and also maintain her blood sugar.”

“Blood sugar?” Mathew asked.

Themopolous turned to Rachel. “I am assuming
all you had for breakfast was coffee?”

Rachel nodded. “Just like every
morning.”

“Yes, well this wasn’t like every morning,
now was it?”

***

Doctor Themopolous and the pilots stood at
attention as the transport pulled up.

The side door opened and the base staff
exited, forming a semi-circle around the pyre. Capreze exited last.
He placed himself opposite the semi-circle on the other side of the
pyre.

Capreze nodded and Jay lifted a small bag
labeled “flammable” that lay by his feet. He stepped to the pyre
and shook the contents out around Stanislaw’s body. Small
briquettes tumbled from the bag and scattered across Stanislaw’s
corpse.

Jay stood back as Capreze lifted a torch
from the ground and lit it.

Several sobbed quietly.

***

“This is an unfortunate tragedy,” Caprese
stated solemnly. He looked at each of the pilot’s faces, trying to
gauge which couldn’t cope with their grief. “Stanislaw was a good
man, a good pilot and a dear friend.”

Some of the attendees sniffed, a few brushed
away tears. Most stood stone-faced, burying their pain deep down.
Bisby’s face raged.

“Today we set a colleague free, we send his
soul above and make sure his body stays at rest.”

Commander Caprese lifted the torch to the
pyre, lighting the briquettes and setting the platform and what was
left of Stanislaw’s body ablaze.

***

The base crew each said their goodbyes to
Stanislaw as his body became ash and the ash became smoke, adding
to the trillions and trillions of particulates of burnt, dead
heroes already floating in the atmosphere.

When the train whooshed by, no one turned to
look, no one cared about supplies and requisitions, news and gossip
from the city/states or some dumb Rookie thinking he won the
lottery and was on his way to glory.

No one could take their eyes off the now
smoldering pyre and the scorched pieces of melted metal that was
once part of Stanislaw’s uniform.

***

“As per tradition and out of respect for our
lost friend and comrade, we will walk back to base. Jay, you bring
back Rachel’s mech,” Capreze ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

“Sir, if I may?” Themopolous
interrupted.

“Yes, Doctor?”

“In my professional opinion, I think Pilot
Capreze would do better catching a ride back to base in the
transport. Just to be safe.”