Duel to the death

It didn't take him long to consider his options.

After doing so, the only conclusion he came to was that speaking in plural was a mistake. Options? What a joke.

The only option he had was to play along. And hope for the best.

Follow that voice, which controlled all these robots somehow. That had stopped them, frozen like statues. And that it could start them up just as easily and quickly, again.

"It's a trap," Roxy told him, whispering next to him.

"It's... something."

Jonathan wouldn't say a trap, because the enemy didn't need those games. The leader of the robots held all the cards. That's precisely why he wouldn't let them go even if Jonathan won the duel, it would be crazy if he was offering them something so convenient for real.

There had to be some trick, but he wouldn't call it a trap.

Since all he had to do to win was to have let things take their course.

Speaking of unnecessary moves, revealing himself was the epitome of unnecessary.

Jonathan couldn't even begin to guess what that man was thinking. Getting him away from his teammates appeared to him as a possibility, but it wasn't as if he was the strongest of the group, not by far.

And it wouldn't change things that much.

Not enough to make revealing himself, putting himself in unnecessary danger, worth it.

"It's something, definitely. But I don't think I have a choice."

Jonathan got on the move.

He approached a window. He smashed it with his elbow, in turn venting the rage that had been building up inside him since the unfortunate escape, which had led them to their present circumstances.

To this ghost town in the middle of the desert, which could be everyone's grave.

Through the window, in the middle of the street, he saw the enemy. It was like the robots that had cornered them, in the sense that he had never seen a person who had gone so crazy with enhancements.

Both arms cybernetic up to the elbow, the eyes replaced as well, with who knows how many augmentations on each.

There was such a cocktail inside his body that his skin had turned gray. Gray from head to toe. He had seen gray scales on other people's bodies, a "necessary sacrifice," but never anything on that level.

He couldn't guess how many enhancements he had exactly, what he could do, but it was clear he had plenty of everything.

He didn't have those wires and tubes, though.

And he had proven himself different from the others from the first moment. Talking, he meant.

Jonathan thought: Sure, because he's human.

Jonathan thought: What about the others? Are you still planning to deny it, even after what you saw with your eye? What, are you going to say it's malfunctioning? Or that you didn't see what you saw?

He shook his head slightly. No... It wasn't worth it. He had to stop thinking about all this.

Once they got out of this, they could leave this shitty ghost town behind, and forget it had ever happened. Maybe risk reporting it, but no more.

This... Whatever "this" was, it was none of their business.

"What do you say, Jonathan Townshend?"

"All right."

He felt his teammates react, behind him.

"Don't do it," Mary said.

"Yes, it's crazy," Jamie said. "Please."

He was tempted to listen to them. But, deep down, he knew this was the only way.

"I'm sorry," Jonathan said.

He went through the window and slid across the roof to the ground. He landed buckling his knees and gritting his teeth from the pain that shook him. It wasn't the worst fall he'd ever taken, but it had been a good jump nonetheless, and he had no enhancements in his legs.

"I see. Good choice," the robot leader said, looking at him as he approached him, starting to move.

The leader was calm, hands in his pockets, as if nothing was wrong.

He didn't seem to have a weapon, but he was sure he didn't need one. With that cocktail of enhancements inside him, his body would be a living weapon.

"Whoever wins takes it all?" Jonathan repeated.

"That's right. Weren't you listening to me?" he laughed. "How disrespectful."

Jonathan stopped in front of his opponent. About ten meters away.

He could win.

No, he would win. And after that... It remained to be seen.

"If you say so. What's your name?"

"Do you even care?"

Jonathan smiled, as he received the answer he had expected.

"I don't care the slightest bit. But I have to write something on your grave."

The smile of the robot leader didn't disappear, on the contrary, it got bigger.

"Aha. You can call me... Max. That was my little brother's name, not mine. But it doesn't matter. Calling me by a human name stopped making sense a long time ago, anyway."

What did he mean by that?

Jonathan had to suppress a shudder. Don't get distracted, shit!

He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. But before starting, Jonathan had a question on his mind. A terrible question, to which he thought he already knew the answer.

But he felt the need to ask it anyway.

Because, after all, this "thing" knew his name. If he was right, then that would explain a lot of things that seemed incongruous. It would all fit together perfectly like the pieces of a puzzle.

"Are you after the Pistol?"

That question wiped the smile off his face, and Jonathan thought he had hit the nail on the head after all.

"What's a Pistol?" He said it slowly and awkwardly, as if he was unfamiliar with the word. So was Jonathan, so they had been, all of them, until a few days ago.

"If you don't know, it doesn't matter."

"Okay. It's all the same. When this is over, I'll get the information out of your brain anyway."

Could he do that? Jonathan accepted it, thinking it couldn't be an empty threat. And he assumed a fighting stance, planting his feet firmly on the ground, holding his huge sword in both hands.

"Come here, you son of a bitch."

If he was defeated...

He wasn't falling into pessimism, he believed he had a strong chance, but if he was, only if he was, perhaps he could trade the Pistol in exchange for the lives of his teammates. Of his family.

Which was what really mattered.

Maybe.

But for now, focus on winning this.

The leader of the robots, the man who called himself Max, hadn't changed his posture in the slightest. He was no longer smiling, but seemed just as relaxed.

As if waiting for him to make the first move.

If so, I'll give you what you want. Right here, right now.

Jonathan lunged for him.

Max didn't react.

Even after he swung the sword, aiming for his head. Crazy. He wasn't going to just take the hit, was he?

And he wasn't.

In the blink of an eye, he parried the blow, grabbing the blade of the sword with his cybernetic arm. It was so fast he didn't even see the move, just the result.

Shit.

Jonathan hadn't expected something like that. He couldn't even follow its movements.

That mechanical arm extended like a whip. With the momentum of the movement, it threw him against the wall of a nearby building. Fortunately, it took the sword with it, but failed to wrench it from his hands.

That was what Jonathan thought, with a certain distant relief, as if he hadn't realized what had just happened....

Until his back hit the wall, and then he stopped thinking about anything at all. Because it had been a tremendous blow. He heard the wall cracking behind him. He knew it wasn't mere imaginings on his part.

Jonathan fell to the floor, amidst a shower of debris like small stones. And clouds of dust.

He writhed on the ground, struggling for breath.

He knew at first glance that Max had gone mad with the enhancements, but he hadn't expected such strength. And that thing he had done with his arm, unfolding and stretching like a whip, he had never seen anything like it.

Jonathan would say, if he hadn't experienced it in his own bones, that it seemed impractical.

But fuck.

Fuck.

Straining for breath, he stood up again. It was long past the time when he could pretend not to show weakness, long pass it, yeah.

But he still tried. And failed.

Taking a step forward, he staggered and almost ended up head first on the ground.

Almost. Almost was the key word.

Jonathan managed to regain his balance, despite everything. Incidentally, he hadn't expected to have to.

"That's all you got?" That thing mocked him openly. With a big grin. Inhumanly wide, even.

"Wait and see. Bastard."

He spat to the side, blood more than spit.

He spat and prepared to get on with it.

Jonathan told himself that the real fight was starting now. That, in fact, he hadn't even started yet.

■

"Jonathan!" Jamie threw herself against the edge of a window, as if she wanted to jump out of it, as if she had barely managed to suppress the desire to climb out.

It was the window Jonathan had climbed out of not so long ago.

A perfect place from which to observe the duel, which had begun only seconds ago and yet had already started to go badly.

Roxy grimaced.

That...that must have hurt.

If Jamie's voice had reached Jonathan, he didn't show it. He didn't even look in her direction. And Roxy wouldn't be surprised at all.

That blow must have knocked him right off his feet. What he would be hearing was the beating of his heart and the ringing in his ears, after that.

"Do you think he can do this?" Mary asked, slipping between the two of them. It showed on her face that she hated to ask that. As well as that she felt the need to ask the question anyway.

"We have to trust that he can," Roxy said, trying to sound more determined than she felt. "And I trusted. Trust. Besides..."

Jamie wasn't listening, and she wasn't surprised. The girl was still staring at Jonathan. So close and yet so far away.

Right now, their leader was struggling to get up. And what an effort it was. His legs were still shaking from the force of the impact.

The corners of his mouth were stained with blood. Even before he spat it out.

"Besides?" Mary repeated, urging her to continue.

"Jamie could blow that son of a bitch up from here, but then the robots would be all over us. If we interfere in any way we can, they will. And we wouldn't... We weren't going to make it out alive. None of us."

It was time to admit that they had no chance of winning a straight fight from the start.

Admitting it when they had been cornered, with no other chance but to resist, would have doomed them. But now they could admit it.

They needed to, if they wanted to move forward.

"But there's no way that bastard would honor the agreement, even if he won."

Jonathan would win in the end. Roxy was sincerely confident of it.

And if it were that simple, she would just sit back and wait. But as Mary had rightly said, the leader of this robot army wouldn't keep his end of the bargain. So there was nothing they could do.

"That's true. That's why... We should move from here."

"What exactly are you proposing?"

Roxy was startled to hear Jamie's voice, suddenly, when she hadn't been paying attention to anyone but Jonathan and his condition. The girl had turned around, moreover.

Pinning her with a look that she could almost describe as angry.

What was she thinking? Goodness, she hoped not...

Yes, surely that was what it was all about.

Roxy would forgive her, because Jamie was her family and everyone made mistakes. But mostly because it was only natural that Jamie wouldn't know what she was saying in a situation like this.

She and Mary loved Jonathan very much too, of course. It affected them that he was in a situation like that.

With his legs shaking. Spitting up blood. In great danger.

But Jamie's feelings... Well, they were of a different nature.

"Don't give me that look. I'm not saying we abandon him. I'd rather die here than leave him." And Roxy meant it. They were a family. They lived together and they would die together. "I mean, move out of this building. Move to the rooftops. Without that bastard seeing us."

Putting distance between them and the robots would be good for them, anyway. Even if the advantage was small, it was something.

In any case, they shouldn't stay here.

If they could run away, that would be great. They would have done it with their eyes closed.

They had only fought because they had no other choice, seeing themselves cornered, escape vehicle destroyed.

"Sounds like a plan," Mary replied.

That was the best way to describe it, yes. A plan. Neither good nor bad. It just existed. But what else could they do?

■

"You still have time to surrender. This fight... is futile. As is human life," Max intoned.

Without his expression changing one iota, or the light in those eyes. It truly seemed as if he was simply repeating something someone else had told him.

Or something he'd read in a book.

Not as if he really felt it. Maybe because his feelings had nothing to do with anything.

What had he said about humanity? What exactly had he said before?

He no longer remembered it, but it still made his hair stand on end, the memory of the feeling he had felt then.

And his words now... infuriated him.

"Save that shit."

If Jonathan had allowed himself to think that way, even for a second, he wouldn't be here.

He certainly would have given up a long time ago.

Dying too young.

But life was a war, and he intended to win. As in this. So he lunged for the opponent, again.

"Are we going to repeat the same thing? As you wish."

Max waved his hand, gesturing to grab the edge of his sword as before. And if he had succeeded, things would have ended in the same disastrous way.

No doubt about it.

But he didn't succeed.

He didn't because before he could Jonathan returned it to its original form. Compact.

Max hadn't expected that. His eyes widened for the first time since he'd seen him.

Nor had he expected Jonathan to ram him, tackling him.

Jonathan fell astride the bastard. Everything had gone as he had anticipated, without a hitch. It almost seemed too easy for him.

He used a sword mostly, but that didn't mean he was helpless without it. He could fight with bare hands without a problem.

As he kept telling Jamie, it was important to learn hand-to-hand combat.

It could be the only thing you could depend on when your back was really against the wall. No way out.

"Wow. You're full of surprises," Max said, grinning from ear to ear.

Not even trying to defend himself. At least for now.

■

Roxy and the others set off. They were in a hurry, but forced themselves to go slowly. They didn't want to reactivate the robots even if it was by accident.

And one good hit could be enough to make them aggressive again. So they wanted to avoid bumping into them, whatever it took.

Passing among so many robots, knowing that at any moment, in theory, one could wake up and lay hands on her neck... snap it like a dry twig, chilled the blood in her veins.

It made her even more uneasy, going at this pace. But it was necessary.

She glanced at Mary's face, wondering how she was coping. That was because he remembered that she had once told them about getting lost as a child in a warehouse.

In the back, a place she shouldn't have been, but went poking around out of pure curiosity.

Which she soon regretted.

Since she had been wandering in the dark between rows and rows of mannequins for a long time. Though it was dark, it wasn't entirely, or her eyes got used to it, because, she had said, the faces of the mannequins floated in the sea of darkness like expressionless ghosts taunting her. Haunting her.

All the while, of course, she had wanted to raise her voice.

Calling out to her parents. Calling out to whomever. But she hadn't been able to make a sound.

It had happened to her small enough that she still believed there were monsters in the dark.

If something like that had happened to her at a formative age, Roxy would be even more nervous. Mary didn't show it, though, or at least not much, regardless of how she felt inside.

Maybe it didn't affect her at all. Mary had told that as if it were an anecdote, nothing more. Something to laugh at.

It wouldn't surprise her.

Roxy was different, though.

Bad things tended to... cling to her. Refuse to let go of her.

Because she wasn't as mentally strong as she tried to pretend.

"This is so creepy," Jamie said.

Proof enough was her reaction. Roxy immediately flinched, nearly slamming an arm into the chest of one of the standing robots, but she barely noticed that.

Her heart was suddenly going wrong by the hour. She was wondering if that, her voice, wouldn't be an excuse enough for them to turn on them.

Going for their eyes and throats in an animalistic way.

But it didn't happen.

It didn't happen... For the moment.

Roxy licked her lips. It was okay to answer, wasn't it? Even if it was an obvious answer that added nothing.

"Yes. That's true." That was all she said.

And nothing happened then, either. Roxy was overreacting.

They moved on.

Fortunately, they soon left the rows of robots behind them and were able to continue their search for an exit in relative peace and quiet. Speaking of fortune, it didn't take them long.

Roxy opened a window. It was about level with the next roof.

More or less. It would have to do.

"This way?" Mary asked.

"Better than going down among so many of those things. And let them see us."

"Yeah. I can't argue with that."

"Who goes first?"

Regardless of the order, they jumped one by one to the other roof. She almost slid off the roof hinges and took a bad fall, but regained her balance.

Oh, and yes there was something to note about the order.

That Jamie, the last one to jump, almost didn't make it. She had to catch the girl in mid-air to avoid it. It was close. Too close.

"I got you," Roxy said, breathless. More from the fright than the effort.

The effort began now.

Pushing her up, helping her up. Now that the three of them were relatively safe on this rooftop, away from the robots, in a hard-to-reach place, they could concentrate on what was next.

On Jonathan and the gray-skinned prick who controlled a small army of robots.

From here, they still had a good view.

What Roxy was seeing, to her surprise, was also good. The situation had changed radically in a matter of seconds. As it usually did in the heat of battle.

She could only hope that things would continue in the right direction.

■

Now Jonathan had the bastard where he wanted him.

If he played his cards right, he could end this now. If he played his cards right. He gritted his teeth. His clenched fists filled with determination.

Jonathan punched him in the face.

He had a strong feeling that he had hurt himself more than the enemy. He tried to ignore it. He could end this. He thought about saying something, but he knew the oxygen he would waste doing that would be better spent doing something else. Besides, it wouldn't be smart to gloat about his victory when it wasn't confirmed yet, far from it.

Surely this had only just begun.

He gathered his strength for another punch. This one was parried, just as easily and quickly as he had parried the swing of his sword.

Jonathan clicked his tongue, tried the other fist.

In mid-swing, he unfolded his sword again. That was how he pierced the enemy's guard, striking him on the side of the head with the pommel of the sword, hard. He heard a sharp crack.

With one blow, Max's head jerked to the side. But that was all. He moved it at once as if the blow had done nothing to it.

Great strength, great endurance too.

And Jonathan had come so close to him without knowing what other tricks the guy had up his sleeve. Maybe it hadn't been a wise decision after all. But it was too late to back out now.

Noisy. Terribly loud.

The activation of the arm and its deployment.

It would unfold like a whip and throw him around like a toy, and he might not be able to get up this time. If he let things happen again.

But of course he wouldn't let that happen.

Of course Jonathan had known that would happen from the moment he got within range of the enemy. It hadn't caught him by surprise.

Before the enemy could grab the sword with his free hand, Jonathan swung the sword towards the inner workings revealed now that the arm was beginning to extend.

The blow connected.

There was the sound of metal striking metal, sparks flew upward. And yes, it cut.

The sword cut, but it was a long way from being able to rip it out.

Jonathan had split the skulls of many robots with a single blow. He had expected that cutting off this guy's arm would be even easier, therefore. However, no. Somehow, no.

The arm reached out far enough to grab the blade.

Soon, the hand of the other mechanical arm would be on his neck.

He had to make a quick decision.

If Jonathan continued, his sword could cut Max's arm off. But with time. And he knew he wouldn't have enough time. So he did the only thing he could do. Jonathan let go of the sword, and took that opportunity to slip away, rolling on the ground, getting up and running further back.

The arm with which Max had gripped his sword twisted, twisted.

Then Max threw the sword at him.

Jonathan barely avoided being impaled. He pulled the sword out of the ground, supposing he should be grateful, though now the fight was back to square one, it could have been worse. He might, for one thing, not have retrieved his weapon.

"I told you it’s hopeless."

"Shut up. This has only just begun."

Actually this outcome wasn't so bad, now that he thought about it. If he had managed to cut off his arm as he had hoped, then what? Surely he would have ordered the robots to attack, making it pointless for him to have risked going out and fighting in the first place.

As Jonathan had thought from the beginning, and should not have forgotten, this guy wouldn't hold up his end of the bargain. Therefore, the best move was to kill him quickly, before that could happen. Leave him no time at all.

Yeah.

There was no point in winning this duel if that was the outcome. His life wasn't so important that he would turn his back on his family to save himself.

"I'm going to crush you," Jonathan declared.

The mechanical arms returned to their original place.

"I look forward to seeing how you're going to try."

"Will you pull out that thing you call a Pistol? Will you let me see it?" The bastard was still grinning from ear to ear. "Is that what it is? A weapon?"

The Pistol could definitely solve this situation in a heartbeat. Jonathan would have pulled it out and used it by now, if he could.

Unfortunately he didn't have it on hand. It was hidden in the car.

It wasn't far away, but if Jonathan suddenly ran towards the crashed vehicle, towards the building, it could be an excuse enough for Mark to give the order that would doom his teammates.

He gritted his teeth.

"You want to see it that badly?" Jonathan could try it this way.

"Yes. Of course I do. New information is valuable."

Something about the way he'd said that made his hair stand on end, again.

"It's in my car," he said, pointing behind him. I can take it if you'll let me.

"In the car?"

"Inside the trunk."

Max nodded.

"Go on, then."

And Jonathan set off, but without turning his back, of course. Careful. It wasn't worth the risk.

He couldn't believe this was working.

He opened the trunk and took the Pistol. He stood looking at it for a while, moving it back and forth in his hands, as if to get a better look at it.

Jonathan turned around.

He raised the Pistol. Pointing it at the enemy.

"What do you plan to do from there?"

Those would be his last words.

Jonathan pulled the trigger.

A bolt of white energy shot out of the Pistol. It fell on the robot leader like rage from the heavens. He moved before it reached him, but not fast enough to avoid it.

Half of his body simply...

Evaporated, engulfed by the rotating wave of energy. What was left hit the ground like a trash bag. By then, the white beam had disappeared over the horizon. And also disappeared. Jonathan was shocked. Speechless, out of breath as well. Standing in the same position as before, not even lowering the Pistol in his hand. He didn't know what to think or what to feel.

It was the first time he had witnessed the power of that weapon.

He knew of its importance before he stole it, of course, but the extent to which it was important had caught them all by surprise. Otherwise they wouldn't have taken the job.

Since then, since the escape, he had been aware of the device's importance. But knowing it was very different from seeing it with his own eyes. His legs were shaking, and no wonder. Fuck. Something like this... it could change the world.

It could destroy it.

There was no other weapon that could compare.

So... it should have been enough, and Max wasn't moving. Not even twitching in an involuntary way, in reaction to the pain.

Everything seemed to indicate that he had died in a single blow. That the wave of power had engulfed him.

But Jonathan wouldn't be at ease until he made damn sure of it. He approached the body. On the way, he couldn't help but avert his gaze. Since his blood was red. Not like the others.

Of course it was. This one was human. Where's the surprise?

The answer came quickly. That he wasn't...

He wasn't dead.

"Jonathan!"

He heard a voice calling out his name. Warning him, though too late. But maybe it had come at just the right time. Maybe it was just that he hadn't been able to react in time.

As if half of his body hadn't disappeared, Mark threw himself on top of him. And if only it had been that, if only it had been the last desperate resistance of a flame that had almost run out.

But it was much more.

Max threw him to the ground, wrapping his broken body around him tightly. Very, very tightly, like a snake crushing its prey, slowly starving it of oxygen.

Soon his head began to spin. Soon he had the feeling he was going to pass out.

Am I going to die here? Jonathan had to ask herself that terrible question. He certainly felt death coming closer and closer to him with each passing second. Howling, calling for him. He felt its cold hands.

"Now... I'm going to show you... The truth of this world."

At last, his vision, full of black dots, burned out.

Everything went white.

But the white emptiness was only the beginning. After that there was a cascade.