Breachers – Path of Steel
9
I
Gearing up
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"I know you're in there, boy," a man whispered softly, provoking a rush of recognition and emotions that Marcus struggled to process. His hand felt the gentle pressure of the man's grip, offering a sense of familiarity. "You're a fighter, just like your father." The man's tone echoed through Marcus's memories, a blend of affection and anger that had accompanied him all his life. "The others are doing the same... fighting for you. I...," the voice trailed off abruptly, the grip on Marcus's hand easing as the man withdrew. Minutes passed as it left Marcus drifting in his dazed state until he heard the familiar voice again. "The doctors say talking helps. That it gives you something to live for... something to fight for." The voice turned fragile, weaker in the brief moment where the man allowed himself be weak.
"We need you, Marcus."
╔ ╗
[System activation: 100%]
╚ ╝
Marcus's mind snapped back, like a sudden jolt of electricity. His robotic frame shot upright, causing the dusty grey tarp to slip off. 'Uncle Laurens?' He recounted his uncle's last words before he collected himself, reminding himself of what he needed to do. He quickly allowed a sliver of his mind to break off and focus solely on counting. The minute he did so, the heads-up display flickered into view, initiating a counter. 'Let's see if that two-hour guess was correct,' he thought as he slowly crawled onto his knees and inspected his surroundings.
A faint, crimson hue trickled through the grime-covered window of the van's rear door, casting a beam of light. Marcus pondered the different hues, recalling how he had seen both a red and blue hues before. He remembered one of the fighters who had attacked him mentioning a 'dark blue', indicating that it held some sort of importance. Examining his remaining robotic hand, he noticed the glimmers of light reflecting off the metal. 'I heard you loud and clear, uncle,' he thought as he processed the fragmented memories as best as he could. 'Somewhere out there I'm still alive, and so is my family. I can't waste any more time here in this place,' he thought, clenching his fist tightly as he felt the subtle pull tugging him northward, as if beckoning him towards something.
He grabbed the items he had looted off the dead man, focusing on the pistol first. Taking a moment to inspect it, he figured out how it worked and how could remove the magazine without shooting himself in the process. With his one hand, he emptied the pistol and its magazine, counting five bullets in total. 'Well... five is better than nothing, right? And even I can keep track of that.' He fumbled a bit as he reloaded the bullets before sliding the magazine back into place, afterwards setting the pistol down with the safety on. He had never handled a gun before, but he had seen enough movies to know it was wise to keep the safety on to avoid shooting himself in the foot.
He grabbed the worn backpack and checked out the damage before unzipping it. Inside, he found fifteen more Monster-Glass bits, along with mold covered rations, ruined medical supplies, and spare socks. Slipping on the socks to muffle his steel feet, Marcus counted all the Glass and placed the one he had looted himself last time next to the others. 'Is sixteen a lot?' he wondered, realizing he had no idea of their rarity, value or use. He cleaned them all as best as he could before placing all the Glass and the pistol inside the backpack, afterwards securing it around his hip using bits of torn fabric while making his way towards the door to get out.
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For an entire hour, Marcus moved like a ghost, slipping between heaps of trash with silent steps, keeping low and disregarding the sounds of combat that seemed to be everywhere. Still, eventually he stealth was thrown out the window when danger popped up. Rushing as fast as he could, bits of dirt and shattered garbage peppered his steel body when another mortar struck nearby, taking out a group of monsters. He slid to a halt behind a rusty refrigerator, surrounded by the roar of heavy machinegun fire and a growing number of explosions.
Under the frayed, gray tarp he'd fashioned into an improvised cloak, he was tightly gripping the pistol. He found comfort in the five rounds inside of it, each round possibly able to save his life. He remained perfectly still as he watched a large swarm of thirty or so monsters race past his position, emitting fierce growls and hisses. Insect-like in appearance, they boasted elongated chitinous limbs ending in razor-sharp claws, while rows of sharp teeth adorned their fur-covered mouths.
He froze, his eyes locked onto the hail of bullets slamming into the oncoming horde as they tried to charge up a nearby hill, determined to attack the humans positioned there. Explosions followed as the monsters triggered mines and other explosives, while icy shards fell from the sky like frozen spears. 'Magic?' Marcus wondered, witnessing the unnatural display. He recalled other occurrences, like the fireball arrow that had claimed his right hand and the wall of fire he had encountered before acquiring his pistol. Still, the humans he could see in the distance were left with no choice but to retreat and find a new position while an ever-growing number of monsters surged forward, joined by towering behemoths rivaling the size of trucks.
When most of the monsters were out of sight, Marcus rushed forward again, only to lose his footing and trip over the vine covered ground as the earth trembled beneath him. What followed was an unnatural rumbling that filled the air, as the red hue in the sky suddenly shattered in millions of pieces, dissipating to reveal the familiar, normal sky above. 'Ok, what the hell is going on?' he wondered, his mind reeling, as more violent tremors shook the surroundings, causing piles of garbage to collapse and forcing him to jump over a nearby car to avoid getting hit. Fearing the risk of being crushed, he quickly fled the area.
After a frantic sprint that felt like an eternity, the ground stopped shaking, allowing Marcus to move more slowly again, allowing him to focus on being silent and avoid detection. The occasional sound of gunfire still reached his ears, but it had diminished both in frequency and intensity, as if the fighters were now in the process of cleaning up rather than engaged in an active fight. As Marcus turned the corner, he came face to face with one of the insect-like monsters.
His gaze locked onto the struggling creature as it desperately tried to navigate a treacherous slope of garbage, tangled with purple vines and an eerie, glowing moss. He could almost feel the monster spotting him before it lunged towards him with a primal ferocity that sent a jolt of panic surging through Marcus. 'Shit... Shit... Shit!' Instinctively, he raised his gun and squeezed the trigger twice, desperately discharging two shots in rapid succession. The first bullet struck the monster's chitinous hide, creating a dull thud as it ricocheted off, ultimately landing harmlessly on the ground. The second round found its mark, but even then, it only managed to partially penetrate the creature's thick skin, provoking it further.
In a mere heartbeat, the monster closed the gap between them, poised to strike at Marcus. Before it could carry out its attack, it suddenly faltered as it began to hiss. The creature clutched its own head with its massive claws, writhing in apparent agony. Marcus watched in astonishment as the monster's movements grew sluggish and erratic, its ferocity waning until it finally stopped moving and simply collapsed onto the ground. Confusion and relief consumed Marcus as he stood there, his hand trembling while still clutching the pistol. He couldn't see any visible injuries on the creature that might've killed it, aside from the minor mark his bullets had inflicted. 'There's no way I did this,' he thought, his mind racing to comprehend the strange turn of events. But before he could process it any further, nearby voices jolted him out of his momentary shock.
Marcus sprinted away from the scene, leaving the monster and the Monster-Glass inside its skull behind. He headed northwards once more, swiftly vaulting over debris and leaping across mortar-made craters. In the distance, he noticed a massive wall adorned with barbed wire at the top. The wire entangled several dead monsters, most of them riddled with arrows, spears or covered in burns. As the wall grew nearer, he also spotted people in the distance. Recalling his previous encounter with armed fighters, he chose to move around the group until he caught sight of a gate in the distance, guarded by several men in military gear.
Marcus swiftly went prone near several burned-out cars and crawled underneath it, burying himself as deep as he could in the filthy mud. In a matter of seconds, the sound of people filled the air as many of them moved back towards the gate. Numerous individuals carried assault rifles and heavy machine guns, while the majority of them were wearing thick metal armor and wielded axes, swords and hammers. Marcus also spotted some wounded men on stretchers who were being carried away, alongside others carrying large backpacks or mortar setups. 'Is this some kind of private army?' Marcus wondered as the sounds of cars and trucks came pouring in, followed by even more people.
Marcus just watched from his hiding spot, catching glimpses of the busy scene. Trucks arrived, and new arrivals unloaded crates and bags, while some began setting up workstations. Gradually, more and more arrived, including guards who seemed less armed than the fighters who were now leaving the junkyard. The majority of people wore similar uniforms, or at least Marcus thought so. He couldn't make out the details clearly, but he did catch a glimpse of a sword emblem on their shoulders. 'They don't look like any branch of the military I am familiar with. What are they doing?' Marcus thought, watching as they brought in more equipment. Most of them walked past his position, heading further into the junkyard while guards accompanied them.
Minutes ticked away, and Marcus watched with a mix of curiosity and unease as the first monster corpses were transported back to the entrance and placed onto trucks. Others carefully handled transparent bags that looked like they was filled with a crystal-like slime, placing them in crates before storing them away. He briefly wrestled with the idea of just crawling out and making himself be seen, quickly drawing things in the dirt or anything else to show that he was human, but each time he recalled the fire arrow. Marcus thought his best option for now was finding his family and having them on his side to figure this all out. So, he just took it all in, his mind filled with confusion at what he was seeing, while most of his attention was on the main gate that would lead him out of the junkyard. With painstaking care, he pressed himself further into the muck and grime as he concealed himself even more, seeing as his HUD was letting him know that time was running out before he even felt his tether with his robotic frame starting to unravel.
'Soon,' he thought, focusing his optics on the gate. Moments later, Marcus pulled his hoodie over his face, trying to hide himself as best as he could before storing his pistol in his backpack, hoping to keep it dry. Now in the mud, his trusty brown van felt like a distant memory, and uncertainty gnawed at him as he wondered if he'd be discovered before he woke up again. Nonetheless, if he wasn't moved, he'd be close to the gate. It meant he could take off running and hopefully reach whatever was drawing him northwards. 'Just a little longer,' he thought, spending the next few minutes recalling the faces and voices of his family and friends before darkness came for him again.
'Just wait for me.'
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Copyright: OsiriumWrites