Murder Drones : Born From Ashes REDUX

Hell is not Fire and Brimstone.

Stacy found herself on the other side of the bridge. N's eyes shot open. He dragged his body up to the drivers seat. Stacy aimed her pistol, still driving forwards.

"Stacy, I'm getting a heat signature." he murmured.

Stacy didn't care, she kept driving forwards.

"Stacy!"

"Shut up machine." she took her left hand off the wheel and adjusted the mirror to look at the disassembly drone. She kept her right hand aiming her weapon. She had a hunch there was no reason to stop, it was flat land from here on out. The USC9 had it best post core collapse, as they found themselves surrounded by natural barriers which were rich in all kinds of raw materials. Most of the abandoned cities had acquired their namesake due to structural instability, large fault lines had formed and created mountains and walls. She knew what to look out for, the last thing she needed was this impudent child telling her- He was still talking, babbling like a child, whining, maybe she should just pull the trigger right now-

"Grenade!" He screamed.

Stacy felt her body get pushed up by her seat, and then she floated, flying, gliding, falling, darkness, but she knew she was alive.

--

Stacy awoke to the sounds of rifles and mortar canons.

And the distant shrill of a silver whistle.

"CHARGE! CHARGE!" screamed the commissar.

Stacy gripped onto her martini rifle and slammed down her M1 helmet. She clawed her way up from the mud and screamed with her comrades as they fought their corroding arms flaking and snapping at their flex points. The roar of an M60 already began deep from the fog. Glowing green tracers minced all the giddy fresh younglings who pranced across the field with maces and random tools in their sweaty little palms. They cackled and cried and only the shouting remained.

screamed the soldier from across the crater.

1 hour to get across the trench. One hour. Start counting, remember what Daddy said. Stacy nodded to the four other troopers in the hole with her. Stacy raised her rifle over the trench and fired a round into the fog, the four leapt out and ran ahead. Stacy lifted herself from the hole and stumbled forwards-

--

--

Stacy kept crawling, the mud slowly building up in her mouth. It was nothing compared to the other drones trampling over her. The MG42 had stopped its song and now they had their chance to keep running. The trooper dragged her lower half back onto her waist, taking out a staple gun and welding iron to put herself back together.

40 minutes left...

She noticed her boots were gone. She laughed to herself as she remembered she never had boots to begin with. She did get a good chance to look at her feet without it being sunken in the mud.

--

Stacy cut the drone's chest open.

"Ow ow ow!" he cried. Stacy only gave a brief look over the drone and then fired a round into his chest. The drone slumped over the same time she felt a hand knock against the back of her head.

"What the hell is wrong with you? If you're injured you stay in the fight until you're fucking dead!" the nondescript person snarled. The new group she found herself in was no older than a few months old, physically mature by synthetic growth hormones. They gazed at her scornfully and jumped back out. Thank goodness she didn't leave as well, another wave of ULU fighters immediately trampled them over, probably killing them too. Stacy opened her vest and put the knife to her hard shell.