The Beginning of the End

Pew-pew-peeeeew. Boooooooooom!

Laser bursts echoed through the abysmal city; bombs burst the burrows of the blind sheep, those supporters of the revolution.

“That’s what those blasted miscreants deserve, supporting those bolt-brained cyborgs and the bloody revolution. Serves ‘em right for ratting us out!” Isaiah cheered as he turned a corner. “Atomics may have been banned after humanity fled E-1, but have a taste of the sub-atomics ol’ Jeb whipped up!” Atomics against humans may have been banned, but at this point, there wouldn’t be many humans to use them against at all. Isaiah continued his escape while continuing his overly expository monologue, “Fools! Those who break the law are scum, but those who abandon their humanity are far worse than scum.

“Over there . . . shoot . . . kill . . . destrooooooy!” The cyborgs chanted, spotted, and locked onto him.

This chase had been stretched far too long, and now it had to end. Isaiah had been running for ages, luring the revolutionist’s forces, attempting to give Samuel and Jebediah a chance to commandeer a transport vessel. He had given them plenty of time and now he had to reach the rendezvous point.

As Isaiah turned ‘round the corner of a decrepit alley, the realization that he was doomed dawned upon him. “There’s no way out, a blasted dead end!”

The cyborgs drew closer; their feet thundered; Isaiah’s mind raced. His eyes shot faster than the cyborgs’ blasters around the forsaken alleyway. Suddenly, he spotted it; a miniscule pipe sticking from a wall. Although it was thirty feet up, this did not faze Isaiah. He pulled out his boomerang grappling hook and swung it round his head as best he could in the confinement of the alley. As the skills of his youth time sport, boomer biking, came back to him, he launched the boomerhook into the night sky.

His shot was true; it latched onto the piping. Isaiah took a firm grip on the rope. He began to ascend the wall, when all of a sudden, he remembered the cyborgs. His head turned just as they flowed into the alleyway.

“You . . . are . . . cornered. Surrender . . . or . . . die.”

“Keep on wishing you maggots, you’ll never catch me, ‘cause I’m the blasted gingerbread man,” Isaiah taunted, scaling the wall in no time at all.

“Resistance . . . shall not be tolerated . . . blast him!” The cyborg leader ordered. The lackeys whirred up their dreaded blasters but fired right as Isaiah disappeared over the parapet of a building.

Isaiah skipped from roof to roof, heading to the rendezvous point; an alley north of the old military bunker – on the outskirts of the megalopolis.

Closing in on the destination, he clambered down an old fire escape leading into an alleyway. The ladder was littered with rust; Isaiah was focused on escape and wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings. Crrrch! A rung beneath him snapped, sending him tumbling to the ground.

He landed atop a pile of old trashcans which were sent clanging and clattering away. “Confound it! Blasted rungs had to snap!” Isaiah muttered as he picked himself up, then jogged down the alley.

“Weeeeeeeeee-ooooooooooh-weeeeeeeeee-ooooooooooh,” an officer’s shuttle screamed as it careened into the alleyway.

“How’d they find me so fast! CANfound it those cans must’ve given me away!” Isaiah cursed. He wheeled around and sprinted off. Fortunately, the alley tightened up, stopping the progression of the shuttle.

A cyborg popped out and bounded after Isaiah. “Pluaise soaf moeeaie. Pluaise soaf moeeaie!” The cyborg bellowed as it hobbled on its shiny legs.

“Must be a buggy program,” Isaiah thought to himself. “Good thing I’m near the rendezvous point; won’t have to put up with this creep much longer.”

As Isaiah continued to elude his assailant, he heard distant shouts and laser bursts. “Something must’ve gone wrong; Samuel and Jebediah must’ve been caught!” Isaiah panicked, quickening his pace.

10 minutes earlier.

“Where is he; we said to meet up twenty minutes ago!”

“Oh, don’t be so frustrated Samuel, he probably thought we might need a bit-o’ extra time, so he took longer.”

“That . . . or he ran into trouble.”

“Knowing him, it’s probably both. Hahahaha.”

“Yeah right. Anyways, he’s running behind schedule, and he better be here pretty darn soon,” Samuel admonished caustically.

Samuel and Jebediah had finished up early and had been waiting for half an hour. Their task had been to infiltrate the revolutionists’ private shuttle bay; it had once belonged to Jebediah’s company but had been overtaken in the “revolution”. Without a hitch, they reclaimed a transport vessel, slipped into stealth mode, and docked it at the bunker.

“Do you hear that Samuel?”

“What is it now? Yee su-”

“It sounds like a… a… oh shoot!”

Pi, pi, pipipipiiiiiii!

“Lookout it’s a nader!” Jebediah yelled, grabbing Samuel by the arms.

Booooooooooooooooooooooooooom! The timer bomb exploded just as Jebediah and Samuel dove for cover into a side alley. Peaking his head around the corner, Jebediah spotted a group of cyborgs and a strange-looking man headed their way. “Confound it! Those dunderheaded cyborgs must’ve hired some skimpies to assist in their cause,” Jebediah cursed as he recalled his past run-ins with those cultic scoundrel who specialized in the art of bomb-making.

“Surrender . . . or die. Surrender . . . or die. You . . . are . . .” the apparent cyborg commander started. Thunk. “Oh, can it ya gunker! Ya dangblasted robutts sure be tiring me. Yee hired me to kill these googledorfs, not listen to yar pointless yammers.”

“Stop . . . you have been . . . warned . . . kill the humans . . . human.”

“Yeah, yeah, ya don’t need to tell me to do what I already be doing,” the skimpie returned as he drew another bomb from his case.

“Blast it! How are we going to fight ‘em along with an armed skimpie, if I’d have known they would betray fellow humans to those bolt brains…” Samuel stammered.

“That’s why they are skimpies, one minute they’re for ya, the next they’re against ya,” Jebediah stared at Samuel. “That’s why I carry one of these babies around!” Jebediah announced in triumph as he pulled a retractable condensed net gun from his old NRA duffle bag.

The skimpie summoned a bomb from his robes; Jebediah drew his netgun in opposition. The skimpie saw Jebediah’s beaming gaze from the shadows but couldn’t see the weapon, shrouded in darkness. Winding his arm, he threw his bomb with all the gracefulness a skimpie can muster; Jebediah shot his netgun, smirking at the imagined victorious face of the skimpie.

The bomb sailed through the air. Just as it was about to hit Jebediah, the net caught it, sending it flailing back, winding the skimpie up in a jumbled mess. Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooom! The explosion wiped out several cyborgs in the radius of the detonation; meat-and-metal chunks flew in all directions.

“Don’t trust . . . skimpies . . . human error . . . must be . . . deleted. Shoot . . . kill . . . destroy!” The cyborgs chanted, irate, if even such an emotion can be sensed by machines, at the death of their comrades. The cyborgs raised their blood-spattered blasters, blasting at the duo.

“Nice one Jebediah! Now we just gotta take care of these fiends,” Samuel shouted over the bursts as he pulled out his modified LB50. Samuel and Jebediah proceeded to fire at the cyborgs when suddenly Isaiah came stumbling down the street.

“Hold your fire cousin! You’ll shoot your own flesh and blood ifya keep blaring your gun ‘round!” Samuel scolded Jebediah, who was ignorantly blasting away.

“Oh! Blast that fool of a Hunter!” Jebediah muttered as Isaiah careened into the enemy forces.

Isaiah ran out of the alley, blinded by bursts blaring from the blasters. He stumbled into cyborgs, unaware of their true identities. As his senses returned, he noticed them. “What are all these walking trash cans doin’ere? They should’ve been deactivated for the night.” The cyborgs turned, flashing their blasters at Isaiah who stood amidst them. “Oh shoot, these ain’t trash cans, well, guess they are but…” The cyborgs cut him off, raising their guns to blast him into oblivion.

Right as the cyborgs squeezed their ALBR’s triggers, Isaiah dropped to the ground. Pew-pew-peeeew! The blasters sang; laser bursts fired into the cyborgs standing across from them. Since Isaiah was in the middle of the circle, all the cyborgs ended up shooting the cyborg across from them, resulting in all-encompassing-cyborg-annihilation.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late, tried to buy’ya bit more time,” Isaiah placated, strolling through the cyborg-scraps toward Jebediah and Samuel.

“He actually survived, blast that lucky fool,” Jebediah muttered, surprised.

“Sorry, couldn’t quite catch that, whaddya say?”

“Uhh… need to get off this forsaken rock, hurry it up… Now!”

The trio gathered their gear and trekked towards the old military bunker. As they traipsed through the streets, littered with abandoned buildings, they heard a faint noise in the distance. Halting, they honed their attention. “What’s that sound like to you brother, sounds oddly familiar to these ears o’mine,” Isaiah posed.

“I don’t know, but it ain’t sounding good,” Jebediah replied.

The noise grew louder. They pulled out their weapons. Thunk-thunk-thunk. “Be on your toes boys, it’sa cyborg.” “How can’ya tell Samuel?” “Don’tya pay any attention at all Isaiah, listen to the clunking of their feet, or else they’ll be clunking your head!” “What do’ya mean, I do…” Cutting him off, a cyborg wheeled around the corner, limp-running towards them.

“Pluaise soaf moeeaie. Pluaise soaf moeeaie!” the cyborg screamed, floundering towards them.

“BLAST HIM BOYS!” Jebediah commanded.

“Don’t blast him, run for your lives!” Isaiah screamed in abject terror; an armada of cyborgs rounded the corner behind the cyborg.

Isaiah slung his LB2K over his shoulder, fleeing down the street.

“Shoot . . . kill . . . destrooooooy!” The cyborgs chanted as they sprinted after the unfortunate trio. Pew-pew-peeeeew. The laser bursts streamed past as they ran.

“Come on we’re almost there! Move, move, move!” Samuel shouted above the laser bursts that rang through the night.

They reached the bunker. Jebediah quickly pulled out his keycard to unlock the entrance. Jebediah slammed it into the slot -- the door wouldn’t budge. “Come on, work for me.” Jebediah slid his card in again, but again, it was denied.

“We don’t have time for this, get outta the way!” Isaiah shouted, unslung his LB2K, then blasted down the door.

Jebediah and Samuel ran through the “door” and Isaiah was just about to follow when all of a sudden, a cold cyborg hand latched onto his shoulder. Isaiah whipped around. An electric shudder coursed through his body. The cyborg whispered his ominous message, “Pluaise soaf…”

Before it could finish, the armada of cyborgs began firing yet again. The cyborg shoved Isaiah into the bunker, dove in after him, but right as it did so the blasts obliterated both of the cyborg’s legs.

Isaiah scrambled away from the cyborg, who was scrabbling on the floor after him. He ran to the vessel – already warmed up. “Hop in cousin, we need to go!” Samuel shouted over the roaring engines. Isaiah climbed up the entrance ramp, turned around just as it started to close. The vessel began moving along the impromptu runway; the clanking of the “bay doors” resounded in the distance.

As he looked back towards the bunker entrance, he saw the cyborg moving its metal mouth in its familiar fashion. The cyborg reached out its hand as it squirmed on the ground, as if begging to come with them. Isaiah felt an overwhelming sense of pity as the armada surrounded the cyborg.

The hatch closed; Isaiah scrambled into his seat. “Finally, we’re leaving this blasted city behind,” Isaiah sighed in disgust, or was it maybe, just maybe, out of sorrow for the cyborg, eradicated by his own brethren.