Others
They'd struck gold. Him enough metal to fill either bucket with glittering powder; her, sealed comics.
An entire shelf. A third were dust, crumbling at her slightest touch, the rest could be lifted, turned, held. She scooped as much of it as she could and poured them into what could easily have been confused as a hamster wheel with a handle. She spun it, over and over and in her visor was the word 'searching', then 'referencing'.
Eventually body parts formed, a bicep, a calve. Colour formed, and panels and pages, two thirds of the pile were scanned and preserved, the rest coughed out like dust which she pushed into the sand. The picture was becoming solid, the words less so, jumbled, forming no language. The poor AI would struggle. The surviving comics were mostly English. She was giddy, anticipation bursting.
She parted from her work and looked to the old man. He was on the thin arm of a crane, holding a spray can the size of his head. It had three bottles connected to the nozzle.
With a squeeze, silver glitter sprayed onto a massive rippling sail. It clouded and flowed onto it, spreading was he was moved by the crane. He stopped when a new coat of silver was over it. The silver turned white and folded until they pulled into the sides of the truck and closed. The Old Man's spray gave the truck a once over, like a plant being fed sunlight.
"You want help?" She asked.
"No, let me work on her in peace." He growled.
"I'm jealous."
He waved her off.
"Good, means you'll try harder to win me over. Now go set up one of your holoflics. The food should be ready!"
It was not.
Slab after slab of bone hung on a tungsten pike surrounded on three sides by posts which breathed fire. Between the bone meat crackled and sizzled. Blood dripped out, sparking as it fell. One spark lit a streak of blood and the entire spit burst into flame.
Damn!
Water wasn't an option, sand either. Nati, grabbed the shield, waving it. The flame vanished and came right back until being delicate got boring and with a snap of the wrists, the whole area went dark as all fires turned off, leaving the hiss of the gas posts.
"Damn!"
She had seconds before the old man saw. She threw herself down and grabbed their lighter, fumbling it and wasting time SHE DID NOT HAVE.
"Nati?"
Orange flame washed over her, eating up all the escaping gas in one go. Desperately, she wiped down the meat, cleaning up quick.
"What's wrong?" The old man called.
"Nothing!"
"You better not be causing trouble. I mean it!"
"I'd never!"
She breathed.
YOU ARE READING
Bludgeon Ball: Genesis
Teen FictionYou never lose anything. That which shatters finds itself whole. They say some can never be whole but that is not the truth. All becomes whole simply because it changes. The meltdown of a single nation blew apart the house of cards which made the w...
