The trip had taken the better part of an hour at Nova's default pace, but it was still better than walking, Alder knew that much. However, the saved time still didn't keep the trio from getting soaked with the acid rain currently showering the city.
Night was beginning to overtake the landscape when Nova announced, "We have arrived at our destination, Pilot Alder." The machine's titanic right hand reached over to grasp Ember on the gunnery platform and softly bring her to the ground, while Alder waited his turn, scanning the ground.
Not much remained there anymore, just an aging, dilapidated concrete building displaying a sign in red spray paint reading LOT 13, a good amount of debris piles, and a small stream of steadily moving water. A decent-sized hill overlooked the site on the west horizon. When both humans were on the ground, Nova knelt and drew her auto-cannon. "I will take watch. I do not require sleep to remain combat-ready as you do."
"Copy that, Nova. If it hits the fan, just call. Out," Alder responded. He turned to Ember and signaled to move. She affirmed with a nod, and the duo sped towards the building while Nova turned to watch the wastes for hostiles. Once inside the building, Alder removed his helmet with an exhausted huff. Facing Ember, he gestured with his magnum at the building. "Is this it?" he questioned, incredulity evident on his face.
Ember glowered at the man and nodded in answer while removing her drenched coat. As she hung the jacket over a metal bar, she sniped, "You'd best take those wet clothes off. Don't wanna get pneumonia."
A snort, followed by the clicking of combat armor being undone, was her only answer. With a smirk plastered on her features, Ember quickly stripped down and scavenged up some spare clothes from her surplus pile. As she slid on a worn-out navy blue tank top, Ember turned to face her guest.
What she saw made her mouth drop.
Alder had stripped down and replaced his battle fatigues with a pair of ragged blue jeans, produced from a backpack sitting in the corner, with a brown belt holding the pants up on his slim body. The pilot's combat boots still covered the man's feet, as if he had never taken them off. However, Ember's focus was centered on Alder's bare chest and upper body, where a massive series of scars form a sort of symbol, resembling a number 7-lightning bolt hybrid, with multiple phalanges sprouting off. Below the mark, etched into the skin, read the words RIP & TEAR.
Alder caught her gaze and held it for a moment. "Gang got a hold of me once, thought they had 'converted' me. Put this on me, like a brand. Made me a warrior. Well, I put the 'rip and tear' bit into practice on their little base," he growled, features darkening as he recalled the event.
Ember shuddered as she envisioned what the thugs had done. She knew how brutal the many gangs in the area could be, especially when they had something they wanted. An extremely disturbing thought crossed Ember's mind right then.
What would a gang want with some drifter?
Then another thought, even more frightening, brought itself to the forefront of her mind.
What if he's not just some drifter? What if he's something else?
YOU ARE READING
The Collapse
Science FictionLong ago, humanity ruined its home world of Gaia with quantum weapon fire and synthetic production of soldiers. High-ranking officials were able to board battleships and disappear into the stars, but the rest of the population were left to fend for...
