Breachers

Breachers – Path of Steel

7

I

All Left

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Something brushed against Marcus's face, prompting his eyelids to part, revealing the hazy silhouette of a woman in white just before an intense, blinding light flooded his vision. He wanted to move, but his body remained stuck, unresponsive to his own will. Amidst the disorientation, he could hear voices in the background, their words a jumbled mess along with people moving around.

 

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[System activation: 100%]

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Within seconds, a surge of energy jolted through him, pulling him out of his strange dream and causing him to shoot upright with such force that his robotic head collided with the steel frame of the van’s interior. ‘Well, good morning to you too,’ Marcus thought with a hint of sarcasm, as he patted the van’s interior like greeting a lover in the morning. He then pulled the tarp off his body, noting a thin layer of dust that had settled atop it. ‘How long was I out of it this time?’

 

Memories from earlier moments flashed through his robotic mind. ‘I think the energy lasted longer when I stayed still,’ he mused for a while before deciding on a course of action, desperately thinking what his mother or brother would do in a situation like this. ‘The smart thing would be to establish some sort of baseline… to get a rough idea how long I have until I run out.’ He then guessed how much time he had already lost since waking up before he started to count in his mind, knowing full well that it was about as accurate as a toddler drawing a circle.

 

While counting, he pushed open the rear door of the van, his lens taking in the night sky, tinted dark blue. He felt more and more confused as he looked around. Patches of grass now sprouted along what used to be a dirt road, and thin vines snaked their way atop towering heaps of debris. Some piles of garbage had collapsed or bore gaping holes, almost as if several explosions had occurred at one point, while other piles looked deformed, as if the plastic was changing. ‘What in the world is happening here?’ he wondered as he struggled to keep count.

 

Leaving the tarp behind, Marcus leaped out of the car’s rear, landing on his feet with as much grace as a steel object could. Still, he was able to maintain his balance. He turned around a few times to check out the junkyard more closely. A cluster of massive scorch marks near the van he had ‘slept in’ caught his attention. ‘It looks like it caught fire at one point. Perhaps some teenager throwing Molotov cocktails at it?’ he hoped, still aware of the graffiti on his frame. He spotted a few more scorch marks around the place but he couldn’t tell whether they were from a recent event or had occurred weeks ago. ‘Well, this place is going to shit,’ Marcus thought as he shrugged his metallic shoulders and began walking northward, feeling a strange pull towards it. His plan was to walk straight until he reached the fence, and then reassess his path or climb over it.

 

Faint sounds echoed from afar, accompanied by the occasional sight of shifting trash and debris cascading down a colossal mound, but Marcus never could locate the source. An unsettling feeling came over him as it kept happening. He finally arrived at the fence, seeing the rusty and broken state of it. More than one section of it looked like something had torn it apart at one point. A distance behind it now stood an imposing wall of concrete and robust steel, crowned with barbed wire. It reminded Marcus of a military or prison setting. ‘Right… so I am not getting over that wall quickly, now am I?’ Marcus mused, stepping to the side as he pondered whether he even wanted to attempt to climb it, or just follow it and see if there was a gate somewhere. While doing so, he tried his best to continue counting despite occasionally losing track.

 

As Marcus strolled alongside the wall, he noticed the occasional claw mark etched across its surface. Bits of chipped stone caught his eye, evidence of a swift impact from something small yet powerful. It slowly dawned on him that the wall’s purpose wasn’t solely to deter intruders from stumbling into the junkyard; rather, it seemed built to contain whatever was inside. ‘I guess that makes—’ Without warning, a guttural growl rumbled from behind, jolting him. It instantly triggered memories of the monstrous creature he had encountered at the Tech expo. Marcus turned slowly, his pistons and motors carefully moving his frame until he relaxed as he noticed the threat was a Rottweiler, emitting a warning growl. ‘Thank god. A normal dog.’ He relaxed his posture for a moment, no longer balling his fists. 'Alright, easy now, doggo,’ he thought, hoping that this particular dog was telepathic. He cautiously sank to his knees and extended his steel hand, hoping the dog would see the gesture as non-threatening. ‘How about you give robots a chance.’

 

The dog paused for a moment, its curiosity obvious as it slowly edged closer and sniffed Marcus’ steel hand, as if testing the waters. Marcus responded by petting the dog, employing the time-tested method technique of scratching behind its ear, which soon resulted in the animal relaxing as well. Continuing to stroke the dog, Marcus did his best to establish trust with the creature, while at the same time realizing just how much he craved the social interaction as well. As he examined the dog’s collar, its name tag caught his attention. ‘Bumper?’ Upon reading it, he shook his head with a hint of amusement. ‘Classy owners… I’m sure. But, from the looks of it, you do have an owner. You might just be my ticket out of here.’

 

Marcus retrieved a filthy rag from a nearby heap of garbage, twisting and knotting it into a makeshift ball. With a playful wiggle, he dangled it in front of the dog, hoping to get it hyped up before tossing the makeshift toy. When he threw it, the dog shot off like an hyperactive arrow, chasing after the thrown object, snatching it, and promptly returning to Marcus. Bumper dropped the rag and barked enthusiastically, his body tensing up as if demanding another go. ‘Good dog,’ Marcus thought, his steel frame unable to display his own enjoyment of the interaction. He desperately hoped that a few more minutes spent like this would be enough for the dog to trust him. ‘Let’s hope when the owner sees a robot and a happy dog, he’ll at least give me the benefit of the doubt.’ He was still very much aware of the bullet holes complimenting his steel frame.

 

Once again, Marcus grasped the makeshift toy, giving it a lively wiggle that triggered another playful bark from the dog. He hurled the toy with even more force, watching as the dog immediately sprang into action, chasing after it and seizing it in mid-flight. The momentum sent the dog skidding across the dirt, leaving behind a trail of temporary tracks. ‘Holy shit. That was actually impressive!’ Marcus thought before he began signaling for the dog to come back, watching the dog do so at full speed, only for something massive to slam into the animal from the side, revealing itself to be a monster. 

 

The monster savaged the dog in a frenzy, its repulsive appearance defying any earthly description. It stood as large as a bear, with distinct canine and avian traits. With its massive front paws, it tore into the unfortunate dog, causing blood to stain its black feathers. Marcus remained rooted in place, unable to tear his gaze away from the gruesome spectacle as it tore the dog apart within seconds. Its twisted, razor-sharp beak then began to feast on the dog’s insides. Seconds later, it moved on to the dog’s head and swallowed it whole, the horrible sight was enough to compel Marcus to flee, his metallic body propelling him as fast as possible. He clenched his metallic fists, praying that the dog's remains would keep the monster distracted a while longer as he dashed faster than he had ever pushed the motors and pistons in his body.

 

 

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After a mad sprint and several wrong turns, Marcus found himself back in the van, tightly clutching a steel pipe he had picked up along the way. His camera lens remained fixated on the closed backdoor, anticipating the monster to jump through it at any moment. He gripped the pipe with all his strength, his mind solely focused on counting, desperate to keep busy with the mental task. ‘5355…5356.’ Each second brought him closer to eventually blacking out again. He wasn’t sure if he preferred it or not, seeing as he wasn’t sure if he could even fend off a thing that could kill a big dog in mere seconds.

 

The monster had struck a deeper terror within him than the one he encountered during the Tech event. During this encounter there had been no hint of hesitation in the monster’s actions, just blind fury and an insatiable hunger. The smaller creature he fought off while protecting Oscar’s remains had at least exhibited caution, behaving more like a cunning beast rather than a mindless monstrosity. ‘5400…  5401,’ he counted, feeling his energy gradually wane. He knew he had lost track a few times and that the actual number was likely much higher. Though not great with numbers or any form of math, he guessed that each time he woke up, he’d have around an hour and a half worth of energy at the very least.

 

Holding the pipe out in front of him, Marcus strained to hear the thunderous rush of something massive hurtling past his position, occasionally slamming into a metal object. The sound alone put him on edge, yet his steel frame remained impassive, showing no response to his mounting fears. ‘Don’t you dare,’ he hissed in his mind, still struggling to keep counting. He nearly dropped his weapon when he suddenly heard shouting and gunfire reverberating through the air. As he listened, more lumbering creatures rushed past his van. Eventually, he forced himself to slide closer to the door and peer out of the dirty window, seeing two more of the large feathery monsters running across the ground, emanating hisses and growls as they surged towards the sounds of combat. Trailing in their wake were smaller, fur-clad monstrosities adorned with rows of menacing spikes.

 

‘There are people there,’ he thought as the monstrous reinforcements stopped passing his van, granting him a moment to consider. ‘There are people fighting out there. This could be my opportunity to be saved!’ Firmly gripping his weapon, he cautiously opened the door and looked outside, making sure he was alone. Afterward, he leaped out and headed toward the sounds of battle while reminding himself how stupid this plan was. Intermittent tremors shook the earth, sending debris falling nearby, putting Marcus further on edge. Turning the corner, his optics locked onto the lifeless bodies of several slain monsters—some riddled with bullet holes, others hacked apart. One of the larger monsters even had arrows sticking out of its skull. ‘Arrows? What the hell is going on here?’ he wondered, his camera drawn to a nearby expanding ball of fire that shot upwards before bits of fleshy debris began raining down. Carefully he moved towards that direction, slowly climbing up a large heap of garbage until he reached the top.

 

From his vantage point, Marcus witnessed the bloody end of a battle—a dozen fighters locked in fierce combat with a small horde of monsters. The air crackled with automatic gunfire and the deafening blasts of shotguns as row after row of monsters were mercilessly shot apart. Yet, the larger creatures shrugged off most bullets, only to be put down by four fighters who rushed in, swords, axes, and bows in hand, frames clad in a mix of modern tactical armor, chain mail, and plate armor.

 

‘What’s up with knights in armor killing monsters? Did I get send back in time?’ he thought as he watched how an arcing swing of a great sword killed the last monster. The monster’s feathery head careened across the dirty ground, abruptly stopping its motion when another fighter forcefully stamped her foot upon it, obliterating the skull beneath her heel before picking up a bit of gore. As the fighters secured the area, some of them began mimicking her actions, extracting strange objects from the slain monsters, cutting them or even just ripping them out of the back of monster heads. ‘They look like crystals. Like a mixture of glass and metal.’ Even from his current position, he could see the harvested items emitting a faint glow, reminiscent of the one he had encountered in the monster back at the Tech expo. ‘Are those things important somehow… or valuable?’

 

Marcus studied them intently and concluded that most of them were experienced in handling situations like this, or had at least done it a few times before. Most of the individuals that carried assault rifles and shotguns had moved with practiced precision, their movements synchronized with one another. ‘Maybe they have a background in law enforcement or are they military?’ Marcus speculated, even though the concept of those kinds of individuals fighting off monsters still felt bizarre to him. The four fighters clad in chain mail and steel plate appeared notably more at ease, almost to the extent that their guard seemed lowered compared to the others. They shared laughs amongst themselves while the archer casually retrieved his arrows. ‘What’s happening in this world that such things are considered ordinary? First meteors, then monsters, and now this?’ Marcus wondered.

 

Processing it all, he just remained prone, contemplating his next move. Verbal communication seemed impossible since he lacked the ability to speak. To make matters worse, he also didn’t know any sign language. He only knew that holding his hands up in the air would usually be seen as nonthreatening, or so he recalled from movies. After a moment, he mustered the strength to rise, his mechanical components supporting him to his full height. With his right hand still gripping the steel pipe, he extended both hands in the air, desperately hoping to convey, ‘I am not a threat! Please don’t blow my circuits out!’

 

He slammed his foot on a metal object a few times to create a loud bang, drawing the attention of the fighters. To his amazement, the four armored figures were the first to notice him, despite their relaxed stance. Their penetrating gaze bore into him from a distance. ‘All right, Marcus, you got this,’ he told himself, taking a step forward and extending his arms further to his sides. He mentally rehearsed the words he would draw in the dirt nearby, hoping to establish some basic form of communication. ‘Everyone likes a cute robot, right? Should I write in Dutch or English? I’m horrible at German, but I’m sure I can manage something.’

 

Some of the fighters exchanged glances, pointing in Marcus’s direction as they engaged in hushed conversation. The fighter with the great sword playfully nudged the archer in the ribs, prompting a few chuckles before the archer nodded. Marcus felt his mechanical joints almost lock up in fear as the archer notched an arrow and drew back his bowstring. In an instant, the arrowhead ignited, and a blazing fireball formed out of thin air. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’ Marcus thought, his instincts kicking in as he spun around and scrambled up the heap of garbage. However, he was too late. The arrow struck the ground a few paces to his right, triggering a colossal explosion. The force of the blast sent Marcus hurtling over the edge, tumbling downward amidst a cascade of debris, burned plastic and what remained of his steel pipe. Eventually, he came to an abrupt halt, disoriented and dangling upside down.

 

With a sense of urgency, Marcus scrambled to his feet and fled the scene, fearful of the fighters who might give chase. His mechanical form surged forward as fast as he could make it, driving his motors and pistons to their very limits. ‘What the hell is wrong with those people? And what the hell was that explosion!’ He ran with all his might, occasionally vaulting over the remnants of crushed vehicles and discarded appliances, or just falling over objects and quickly getting back up as he desperately searched for ‘his’ van.

 

His eyes locked onto it, and a surge of hope propelled him to leap and grasp the ledge, aiming to haul himself up. But gravity turned against him as he crashed back down, slamming onto his back, producing a flood of confusions. His gaze shifted to his right hand, or rather, the wreckage that remained. All that was left of his once-functional robotic right hand and wrist was a jagged stump of twisted steel and shattered machinery. Shrapnel and scorch marks marred the right side of his body, with some of it still smoldering. The plastic protective plating on his right side was also mostly gone, either melted or broken off. ‘No… No… This is bad.’ Panic coursed through him as he stared at the stump of his right hand, but stuffed all those emotions down when he heard voices nearby. Survival instincts compelled him to act, as he jumped up towards the van again, relying solely on his remaining hand for support. Clumsily, he dragged himself upwards and threw himself inside, hastily closing the door behind him before covering himself beneath the gray tarp.

 

Soon, shouts and the sound of footsteps filled the air. “What the heck was that creature?” a deep voice called out, coming closer to Marcus’ van. The unmistakable click of a shotgun being loaded followed. “Could be one of those anomalies we keep hearing about?” another person suggested as the group moved forward. “Nah, not likely. I mean, what are the odds of that happening in a dark blue? It’s probably just a strange looking monster. Let’s just keep looking. Collectors usually pay more for weird ones.”

 

Marcus just remained motionless, his robotic form frozen in place as he heard the fighters move on, slowly leaving his position. All the while, he struggled to maintain his count, his gaze locked on the wreckage of his right arm and the sharp bits that were sticking out.  ‘7007... 7008... 7009,’ he murmured under his breath, knowing full well that he had missed count dozens, if not hundreds of times throughout the commotion. He clung to the count, each number a lifeline as time blurred around him and his consciousness faded, plunging him into darkness once more.

 

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Copyright: OsiriumWrites