Machine God: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Final Draft)

No one here?

"Why the rear?" the soldier said.

"In case I fall off. I don't want to drag you all down when my hands slip off the steps."

Everyone understood. One of the diggers gave me an approving nod, Ann-Lyze was ready to hug me into a coma.

"Thanks. For everything."

"No worries. Let's shoot up."

We began the climb.

And I thought the solo mount was tough.

Still, I didn't want to complain.

This was my choice.

My responsibility.

I was the leader now.

During the way up, I said,

"You're weighing a lot, old man."

"I had a decent brekkie with lots of calories."

Seeing him churn out humor made my heart sing.

Back on the sun-beaten surface, the diggers and Ann-Lyze helped me out the hole.

She hugged me and sent a smile brighter than the yellow-bleached sand.

"I can't believe you made it."

"Miracles do happen."

"You're such a gentleman," the soldier said.

"What can I say? Manners maketh the man."

Even the diggers cheered.

Only the soldier remained suspicious. I couldn't detect his expression because of his shielded face, but his posture had mistrust covered all over it.

"You've got a lot of stamina. Why did the Bulwark degrade you from your soldier position? You must have been quite the asset."

"Blame it on my failure to comply."

We left it at that.

I checked back on my commcuff and looked up the digital map. The position of the APC was still tagged on the route.

"I suggest we return to our RV point and see if the APC is still there."

Unlikely, but with no alternatives on the horizon, we followed up.

The diggers agreed to carry Nathan so I could recover from my climb. We all marched through the back alleys and stayed away from the main roads. During the trip, I inspected my new surrounding. This sector looked twice as wrecked as before.

Car wreckages hung from rooftops.

Ruins had collapsed and steel pillars had bent over in L-shapes.

This wasn't a sandstorm, but a damn avalanche of rock that rolled over this city.

Huge respect to mother nature and her relentless force.

Maybe it was a punishment for mankind's failure after all.

Sandstorms to rid us from sin.

A cute little story the Technoid would believe in.

The fall in the industrial hall may have saved our lives after all.

We walked by demolished house walls and found crimson markings smeared on their surfaces. Ugly graffiti, poured in crusted blood, penned by dusted psychos.

"Praise the machine god."

"The prophet will arise. He will lead us to the Promised Space."

"The future is Technoid."

I hoped not.

Ann-Lyze cringed when she read the lines.

"Not really a pep talk."

"Just ignore them. We're almost there."

My glance fell to the diggers who still carried Nathan.

Wounded men who bit their lips, dragging their comrade through the sun-scorched ruins.

Mad respect.

"How are you guys doing?"

"Still alive."

"Do you want me to take over?"

"Nah, it's cool," the other one said with his chapped lips.

My respect just doubled.

Only the soldier worried me.

He strolled next to us, his right hand fumbling with the Dust Viper.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, not yet."

We stayed en route.

Finally arrived at the RV point.

As feared, the APC was nowhere to be found.

But something else was.