YM778.TV Chapter 7: Boneyard
-Teachings of Erik Berkley to his son
***
"We are in an unsanctioned territory, Lance. This is where we need to tread carefully." Damian said as he started to push the gas pedal gradually, forcing the engine to hum silently.
"Abominants?" Lance asked. His fingertips were cold deftly unto his handgun’s trigger. The thought of them still gave him a cold chill.
Nobody answered. Their witty humor had escaped them and sat in the passenger seat like statues.
"George, you know what to do," Damian spoke almost in a whisper. He turned off their headlights. Silhouettes of seemingly tall structures filled the dark atmosphere.
Lance felt the coarseness of gale caressing his exposed skin. They were cold and hot at the same time. Perspiration had loomed over his forehead, fogging the goggles of his gas mask. If he could taste the wind, it would be fill his mouth with powder, could be from the disintegration of all life forms. Probably it would be a taste of rotten flesh and blood.
"Blast them if they come," George answered with eagerness in his voice, but not utterly confident. His body language was stiff with his left foot rapidly tapping the jeep’s floor.
"This is "The Boneyard," Damian said to Lance.
"Typical name for a place like this," Lance responded, masking his shivery lips.
Their jeep had gradual turns as if following a street. Damian’s skills as a Specialist had now been showcased. It was almost pitch black, the towering abandoned structures had cast an enveloping shadow, augmenting the dark atmospheric state.
If not for the dark corners, everything was gray. Everything was dead. Not even a shred of green moss had survived.
Everyone in the jeep was silent. Lance saw Joe as if paranoid to every corner with his gun aiming towards nothingness.
The silence was deafening. The wind blew occasionally, whistling immensely that would test one’s sanity.
"Steady, kid," Damian whispered again. His eyes never left a breath of focus off the road to where it would take their vehicle.
"Are you sure we are not lost?" Lance asked, he leaned his head this time towards Damian. Sweat accumulated at Lance’s armpits, now. He felt it, cold.
"I have done this a dozen times, kid," Damian responded, his eyes still laser-focused, "we do a lot of smuggling here."
’Smuggling?’ Lance thought. ’There is nowhere to smuggle goods in a place like this.’
"But before else, kid. I need you to pay me upfront." Damian said, sternly.
"How do I know you are good for it, Damian?" Lance said.
"Fair point, kid. 50%, ok?" Damian negotiated.
A few moments hung in silence and both parties just had their eyes fixed with each other.
’Remember Master, you have only 1500 units. You will only have 1000 units left for a Specialist full price,’ Jasper reminded, Lance could only hear him.
Finally, after a few awkward moments, Lance nodded. It seemed fair and he trusted Jefferson that Damian would do what he was told. But trust was rarely given by Lance to the people that surrounded him. He did not have friends, nor enemies for that matter.
The merchant at the Market Trading hut was the only person he conversed with for so long if he would negotiate component prices or inquire about item availabilities. He would tease the fat guy more often. He knew that the merchant did not like him that much.
Lance opened his holographic platform up on his palm and blew a little closer to his face. Only Lance could see the contents. He typed in the amount upon the air against the holographic frame.
’Transferring 250 units to Damian...’ As the holograph showed. ’Remaining units = 1250’
"Done," Lance declared.
"It’s a deal, kid." Damian shook Lance’s hand. His grip was firm but the kid gripped back harder.
250 units was a bit pricey. ’That’s a lot of groceries. I need to earn money,’ Lance reminded himself.
Surprisingly, a sharp shriek loomed seemingly behind the nearest structure. Lance took his gun out from his holster, wrists uncontrollably jittering. Even his weapon responded with a touch of coldness too.
"Don’t do anything stupid, kid," Damian suggested. He floored the brake pedal this time. "Loud sounds will trigger a mob."
"Abominants?" Lance asked, but his voice was clearer this time.
"Yes. Probably a size of a monkey," George whispered at the back of Lance’s skull. "We can easily kill one, but hundreds of them? They will skin us alive."
"Aren’t you scared?" Lance asked again. His voice was softer than before.
"Enough with the questions, kid!" Joe retorted as he clenched Lance’s shoulder.
Damian turned the engine off.
"Let’s move on foot," Damian said.
"Wait!" Lance said before they moved out from their vehicle. "Let me scan the area first for hostiles."
Lance touched the back of his ear to activate Jasper.
"Hello, Master. It’s nice to be activated again," Jasper’s voice emerged.
"Quietly now, Jasper. I want you to scan the place for organic living things."
"Scanning 30-meter radius coverage...." Jasper responded hastily.
"Apologies, Master. However, my radio frequency waves seemed to have severe interference due to the atmospheric pressure. It is unlikely that I can provide you with an accurate scan."
"I know that, Jasper. But what have you picked up, so far?"
"One unknown creature, 25 meters from our location... Not in my database, Master."
"Of course, it’s an Abominant. There are no concrete discoveries of these types, Jasper. Can you determine the size and form?"
"Length, 7 meters. Width, 5 meters. Form, scorpion origins," Jasper delivered a report but his voice was so hoarse that they had difficulty hearing the AI. The gale picked up its pace, whistling or singing – rejoicing for their deaths.
Lance saw Damian punch his thigh with a clenched fist. He clearly cursed even his face obscured behind the mask.
"Weak spots?" Lance asked but Jasper did not respond.
"This is shit luck, kid!" Damian spat. "You know what the good news is?"
"What?" Joe asked this time.
"Scorpions do not like herds. They kill every moving creature, including his kind. So I am pretty sure that about a mile from here, there are no other Abominants but this menace right about our faces."
"Ok Sensei, any suggestions?" Lance sarcastically asked.
"We escape. This jeep is the only way we can escape. And until the foot of the mountain trench, a mile from here, we will go on foot. These scorpions do not like heights."
Damian floored the acceleration pad and the Jeep jumped to a sudden start, like it was in a drag race. The wheels turned digging against the sandy concrete and screeched like hell.
"It’s unto us. He can smell a mile away." Damian said loudly this time. "Ready your guns, it will pursue us."
The rumbling of slabs of concrete clamored loudly as if a hurricane was in pursuit. They could hear the sharp shells of the creature’s legs puncturing the ground in every step it took.
Joe and George aimed their weapons behind them, training their sights to various locations. The creature’s movement was obscured by the heaving dust, paired with the polluted atmosphere. But they knew that a movement was happening just behind the shadows cast by the towering structures. They aimed their weapons anyway as to where the source of the ruckus emerged.
"Ready your grenades," Damian screamed, his eyes fixated on the road. Their vehicle swerved frantically with sharp and sudden turns and the unending top gear.
The sounds of the eight-legged creature could be heard clearly, now. Every step it took was the sound of sharp armor puncturing the concrete. The concrete turned to rubble. Every step the creature took, sent shivers down Lance’s spine.
They were fast and nearing as the creature may have targeted its prey. The creature screamed sharply, loudly, reverberating against the heaving structures. Every waking second was a nightmarish death.
A silhouette emerged, they saw it. Their aims were adjusted.
"Now!" Damian commanded and Joe threw two activated grenades at the moving shadow.
Explosions awakened like thunder and lightning at a very reachable distance. They felt the blow as the wind was pushed against where the grenades detonated. But the creature’s movement never ceased.