By William Mitchell – Cosmic Egg.
They needed something else, Max realised, some way of fending
off the machines without risking their own survival. Then an idea struck him. In any other circumstances it would have seemed like madness, but looking round he could tell that no one
else had any better plans. If they only had minutes to live then anything was worth a try.
"Wait here," he said. "I'm going to get something."
He ran off, heading down the length of Anchorville until he reached the steps, then began jumping down them three at a time, grabbing the rail for support between each leap. The
ESOS men he'd passed on the way watched him as he went, presumably wondering what he was up to, though only Safi called after him. "Max! Where are you going?" she said, but he
didn't answer her. Instead he carried on down to ground level and ran over to the rover they'd arrived on. The nearest machines were just a hundred feet away but didn't seem to
notice him. He went up to the rear seats of the rover then bent down and pulled out the bundle of marker poles from the survey kit he'd noticed when they first took the thing. He also
took the long narrow spade that was used for planting them, then ran back to the stairway and started climbing.
This time Oliver was there to greet him, recognisable by his sheer width if nothing else. He stood at the top, blocking Max's way. "Where do you think you're going, Lowrie?" he said
as Max climbed the last few steps. Max however didn't have time to stop. Instead he slipped past Oliver, almost pushing him out of the way in the process, and ran back to the far
end of the platform.
Ariel had another charge in his hands when Max returned. It looked as if he was about to throw it over.
"What are you doing?" Max said.
Ariel looked at Max briefly, seemingly in irritation, and carried on with arming the timer. It was Damon who answered.
"There's nothing else we can do," he said. "We can't just stand here and wait for them to bring the whole place down."
There wasn't time to argue, Max decided. Instead he moved along the platform to where there was more room and set the marker poles down in front of him. Ariel had already thrown the
charge over the side and Max found himself instinctively turning away in case any fragments came his way. He felt the force of the explosion hitting the structure, then he carried
on working. First he took the spade and banged it repeatedly against the metal floor until the end of it had bent round like a lip. Then he picked up one of the poles and laid it on
top of the spade, with the sharp end pointing forward and the other end slotted into the lip. Finally, he gripped the whole thing by the handle of the spade, held it high above his
right shoulder, and let loose.
It was an action he had practised many times in the past. As his right arm came forward like a javelin thrower, he let the free end of the spade arc outward, effectively lengthening his
arm by almost two feet. The pole moved forward too, but held back by its own inertia it began to bend in the middle as Max propelled it forward by its back end. Even the spade
itself flexed slightly, so fast was the motion. Then, just as the force of the stroke reached its peak, the spade and the pole sprang back again, releasing the energy stored in
them and adding their own contributions to the speed and force of the throw. The pole shot away from Max, faster than his eyes could follow, and flew down toward the machines beneath
him.
It hit one of them right in the centre of its body, burying itself almost a foot inside the thing. The machine staggered, then fell over onto its side, its limbs thrashing as if still
trying to run. Safi and the others had been looking at Max in amazement but now all eyes were on the machine, as it writhed across the ground, burying itself in the dust.
"Jesus, what did you just do to it?" Damon said.
"It's an atlatl, an old hunting weapon," Max said, already preparing the next spear. "Prehistoric probably, but it still works against these things."
The next two shots were misses, but at the third attempt he hit another of the machines. This one was hit in the head and once it had fallen, it didn't move at all.
"Nice work," Harris said. "Reckon you can get the rest of them?"
Max looked down at the poles at his feet. There were barely two dozen of them left, though by now more than forty machines were swarming round Anchorville, breaking up its
lower supports.
BOOK DETAILS
- eBook £4.99 || $7.99
- Aug 29, 2014. 978-1-78279-161-4.
- BUY | AMAZON US | AMAZON UK
- Paperback £11.99 || $20.95
- Aug 29, 2014. 978-1-78279-186-7.
- BUY | AMAZON US | AMAZON UK
Categories:
0 comments on this article
Leave a comment
