"Unauth___zed access d_tected, please st__d by for, disintegration." A robotic voice cracked through a weathered speaker, shrouded under the ever-present neon dusk of this dimension's Seattle. Rick Slatey let out a groan as he pulled himself out of the pile of steel and rubble that had just moments before been a 1996 Chevy Tahoe which had spontaneously decided four wheels was just one too many... the outside wall of a warehouse, and then a support beam inside the warehouse. Off in the smokey distance, heavy machinery began to creak and rise to life as the car fire continued to smolder. "A simple job they said." Slatey grumbled under his breath as he ducked behind some of the rubble for cover. "Oh, we'll take care of everything Mr. S., they said. Just think about the potential scientific discoveries, they said." Annoyance covered Rick's face as he pulled his blaster from its holster. "I gotta start picking better clients."
The red lines of laser sights from two Murderbot 3000s scanned the building for signs of organic life as the dust from the wreckage began to settle. The incoming robotic death machines were the least of Rick's worries though, there was something... worse, far worse on its way. He had to get out of there before they caught up to him. Picking up a rock from the pile of rubble he was hiding behind, Rick chucked it as far behind the approaching death machines as his cybernetically enhanced arm would let him, all while making sure to stay out of sight of the deadly laser eyes of course. CRASH! The rock struck its target true and the mechanical would be murderer machines' thruster rockets rushed them off to investigate the obvious intruder as their shoulder mounted mini-guns began to whorl up in unison.
Wasting no time, Rick activated his personal cloaking device and made a mad dash through the impromptu entryway and out into the cold night air, rapidly dispatching the spy drones that had gathered overhead with his blaster as he made a break for it.
The building he had unfortunately just crashed into was barely out of sight when he heard them. He almost felt bad for the robots that had just tried to murder him, no one deserved the kind of treatment they were about to receive, even if they had just tried to vaporize him. Rick shuddered at the thought of what must be happening to them as he saw smoke begin to rise from an explosion off in the distance. The Murderbots must have self-destructed to escape their tormentors. Rick shed one manly tear for the brave robots before turning towards the outer-city's ruins and the interdimensional portal home.
Chapter 2
After about twenty minutes of running and putting some distance between himself and his pursuers, Rick began to wonder how this dimension got so screwed up. He needed answers... and food. Unfortunately, in his haste to get away from them and sure insanity, he hadn't had time to grab any of the emergency rations he'd brought with him, but it looked like his luck might suddenly be improving. Up ahead he saw a lone tavern with a single car in the parking lot. He knew that no matter what dimension you were in, there was no better place to pick up gossip, and occasionally a burger that didn't give you food poisoning, than random shady bars. Ever the cautious man though, he double-checked to make sure his earworm protective earplugs were in good and tight... just to be safe.
As he got closer to the building, Rick could tell that the lights were on and it looked like the bar open, but it didn't look the anyone had been there in ages. The door had a hastily scribbled cardboard sign hanging from it saying, "Welcome to The Last Escape Bar and Grill. No black turtlenecks, no trench coats, no singing, humming, or whistling 1980's pop. Violators will be shot on sight/sound." This place looked promising, and Rick could smell onions being grilled inside to the sweet, sweet riffs of Saul Hudson and Izzy Stradlin playing from a jukebox. It was risky, but this was a risk that he knew he had to take. Rick took one more look around to make sure that he'd lost his pursuers, opened the door, and quietly stepped inside.
YOU ARE READING
Groovy Penguin Avenue
Historia CortaA transdimensional private investigator races to escape killer robots and the ominous "them" in this tongue and cheek homage to classic neo-noir.