The men had pushed her into a seat at the back of the Ramm. Though one of them sat nearby and was watching her, and one was piloting, the rest were gathered about Aunt M. They seemed amused by her decrepit exterior. So far Aunt M had said nothing and had obeyed. Inside her, Gio sensed confusion.
The side door through which they’d entered was still open. Wind blasted in, ruffling everything not riveted down.
“I thought this mechling was advanced? I didn’t expect a heap of rusted junk.”
Most of them laughed.
“Rumor is the judge has found an old mech he wants to put this one’s brain into.”
“For fuck’s sake? Truth? It’ll only run in circles dribbling then.”
They laughed again.
Aunt M had collapsed to the floor, with several of her limbs acting like grapples and anchoring her to a seat, a rack on the wall, and part of the floor.
Six men here, plus a pilot and she was bound, her wrists clipped into some plaited handcuff device.
What is this, Gio? These wish to hurt you? I remember I must not harm people. But...But...What if they hurt you?
Poor thing. The eternal dilemma of humanity. Which evil is worst? She felt so bad for Aunt M.
The Ramm was slamming across the sky. Less than a minute since they’d left Ryke staked into those scrappy blocks of ancient building, sunk in that swamp, and here she was headed back to a worse slavery than ever before. Not counting the blood-snack room. Ormrad would not be kind.
Aunt M buzzed to life in her mind. Which evil is worst? Is that how it works? That’s easy then. You’re my friend, these are not. Brace yourself, Gio.
All her limbs sprang from the floor, unhooked, unhitched, lifted, curled in, then she raised them above her. In those few seconds Aunt M changed. No longer passive, she looked malevolent and capable of violence. Predatory, unpredictable...
The men froze and ceased to mock her.
The pilot turned halfway in his chair. “What’s up? You should all strap in.” He punched a button and the door began to slide shut.
“Hello, boys. You don’t like my appearance?” A limb rose above the rest and kinked backward, clicked into place.
“What? Huh?” One of them stuttered out.
“Bye!” she said, cheerfully. Aunt M grabbed two of her mockers and tossed them out the door.
The pilot squeaked and flung the craft into a sideways slide that tipped the opening to the top. Aunt M adjusted aim and tossed the rest out one by one, including the man beside Gio, who merely squeaked once then vanished upward. The pilot was last, and was gone before Gio could go wait!
Oops. Aunt M mind-voiced.
The Ramm spun and they smacked into the ground and bounced, with the engines screaming and flame billowing past the door. At the same moment, Aunt M wrapped Gio in her many limbs and leapt out, through the fire, her trajectory precise. They were airborne. Metal screeched. Pieces of something black whistled past.
The final view Gio had of the doomed craft was of it spinning and plowing into swamp land, spewing dirt, erupting into chunks of metal and fire as it slid and rolled.
Then Aunt M hit the earth, also rolling fiercely. Clutched inside her metal embrace, Gio blacked out.
Her head hurt when she awoke – woozy, and with the world still spinning into place, with the mechling uncurling her down onto a dry piece of ground. Grass whispered at her ears. Something went boom in the distance and a part of a shrub beside Aunt M burst into flame.
Aunt M promptly sat on it and extinguished the small fire.
It hissed and smoked under her round ass...if Aunt M had an ass.
Mouth open, Gio levered herself onto her elbows and looked about. It seemed only seconds since the crash. Fragments floated down. The scent of burning things singed her nostrils. Her vision kept floating sideways then jinking to the left as it tried to catch up with how Aunt M had flung them about.
“Fuck,” she whispered and she sat up properly, her arms shaking so much she almost fell over. If ever she’d come close to death, it had been seconds ago.
But she was alive, somehow.
Her handcuffs were gone?
When had that happened? She stared at the mech, wet her mouth and realized blood was dribbling from a split in her lip. Gio pressed the back of her hand to the sting.
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome. Friends help friends.”
“Mmm.” By killing everyone else, clearly.
She slowly climbed to her feet, and stood there wobbling, atop the small mound Aunt M had landed on. Wherever Ryke was, it was miles back and darkness was descending, fast. He’d said this place would be dangerous to walk through at night.
And...should she even return to him? Free, remember?
Free to leave him to die? She’d never forget the sounds as those stakes were driven into him.
Could she help him, though? He’d likely be dead before she got there. And if he was, at least she’d have tried. He was an evil man at times, and at other times, not. Mostly that was recent though.
Which meant he was worth helping.
He’d said be free, but that in itself said he was a good person.
Fuck.
She turned and looked along the paling horizon to one end of this strip of swamp. She took a step, another, feeling the soil sink underfoot. The sea was that way, Ryke had told her, maybe an old city. She’d heard of Scavs digging in places like that. There might be ways to survive there. And if she went without even attempting to look for him? Gio frowned and stared at the now graying land. Nighttime would be bad either direction.
Still. She looked to Aunt M, a big darkened ball of multi-limbed no-nonsense metal fury when she chose to be. This was an advantage.
A bug chose to zero in and bite her neck. She slapped it away. Underwear was probably not the best gear for hiking.
“Any chance you know where the packs fell, Aunt M?”
“Oh, for sure. I threw them out also. They may have burst but I noted their location. Would you like to dress again?”
“Yup. Find them, please?”
“Wait.” The mechling rolled off into the evening gloom.
Once dressed, and with a pack on her back again, her spare boots, Gio started to walk.
It’d take a day or two to get back, perhaps, but she’d do it, even if...she swallowed...she had to bury him at the end.
They dodged sections where the swamp became a body-clutching mire, avoided a pack of horse-sized predators that Aunt M decided she preferred not to mess with – Gio would have been eaten without Aunt M – and took those two days to get close to where he must be.
Soon she’d see him again. Nobody could survive this long without water, not when bleeding and horribly wounded.
Then a sniker found them. Slim and fast it zipped up then slowed. She guessed they should’ve walked at the edge of the trees, except that would’ve slowed them down.
Like an evil giant and fucking nasty bug, it hovered a fair distance away, gun trained on her and Aunt M.
Gio had her legs a shoulder-width apart, as if ready to leap into action. Her knife-throwing wouldn’t do her much good.
“What do I do...we do? Aunt?”
But Aunt M was already spinning away. The sniker pilot tried to turn to keep her in his sights but she launched herself upward, limbs flailing, clutching, as she landed atop the sniker. The craft wobbled and Aunt M tore at it. Engines whining, it rocked. The pilot fired one futile shot that blew a hole in some innocent piece of the swamp.