The Grave Digger

A Heartless Machine

"Erm..." An ashamed frown spreads across Jade's face as she teeters on unstable legs. Shattered glass rests around her in a pool of transparent liquid.

Behind her is a large tank, a breach in its side allowing mechanical guts to spill on the floor. Trailing from several tangled piles are wires of various sizes. They snake into Jade's limbs, continuing to pump liquids in her body.
She rips them from her limbs, gritting her teeth.

Her new boss eyes her pensively from across the room as he stands from a leather office chair. Plucking his glasses from the nearest table, he sets them gently on the bridge of his nose.

"Well now, look who finally decided to rouse," smirking, he scribbles something on a clipboard before tossing it to the table. It clatters against the wooden surface, consuming the tense silence.

Moments earlier, Jade had broken millions of dollars in machinery, his machinery.  However, he isn't cross with her; he knows she will give in.

"My name is Doctor Edgar George Zomboss. It's a pleasure to formally meet you, Jade Cohen."

A bolt of ice runs down her spine, forcing her to shiver.

A bastard's smile configures the doctor's cracked lips, it's the inception of the end of the world.

--

"What?"

"I-I said, my entire regiment...it's gone-"

"That's impossible, Patrice," Nate cuts in, "Not a single zombie has been reported in the district. In an entire month." A frown of complete disbelief creases his face.

"I wouldn't lie to you," worried blue eyes meet sullen brown ones. "I saw them dead...all of them. Even the elites." She pauses for a moment, piecing hurried memories into words.

"There was this...soldier. She was covered in blood, searching for something on their bodies." Patrice turns away from Nate, grimacing. "She left when she saw me watching."

"Our surveillance must have caught something on her," he ponders aloud.

Tension swarms the room. The two zombie-hunters sit across from each other in a looted apartment building, tucked away from harm. Dried blood splatters the walls.

Patrice breaks the silence, "She obviously wasn't a zombie, so why would she fight us?"

"She's either working for Zomboss or she's rouge," Nate whips out his phone, thumbs working its illuminated screen, "You'll have to tell Dave, but I doubt he'll be happy." Standing from his chair, he tucks his phone away.

He has better things to do than console Patrice. Lately, she had been getting less and less confident. Her new line of sunflowers were a complete failure.

Slamming the door on his way out, Nate leaves Patrice to her anxieties.

Moonlight pierces the open window, staining the side of her face a ghostly white. Her eyes meet those of a figure crouched on a roof. Black hair twists in the midnight breeze as she rises to her hight.

She steps closer. Patrice looks away.

--

"Fayre! Open up!" Jade impatiently slams her fist on the metal door, blood trickling from her thigh. Exuding her injury, the mission was a complete success. She'd killed a months quota and claimed a whole block of Neighborville, all in under two hours.

Drip...drip...drip. Adrenaline leaving her system, she groans in pain. Super soldier or not, she's human, and she is absolutely pissed.