Bretdon dodged the attack of the group of Taucets in front of him and returned fire. Though the cyborgs had attacked the alien colony by surprise, the Taucets had been able to fight back with more power than expected and several of his men had been hurt. Not severely, but enough to make them slower and less attentive.
Defeating the Taucets in front of him, he proceeded forward. The order was to get rid of every Taucet in the colony, male or female and take the human slaves to a camp prepared to receive them. He had always thought they were exchanging one kind of slavery for another one, but his opinion was never asked for, and he had learned to keep it for himself.
At some point, the fight took him outside, and he could see Khajal, a fellow cyborg leaving the colony through the destroyed walls of the settlement. A smile cracked his hard face when he realized what that meant. Khajal wasn’t dead, and he had managed to escape the human’s yoke.
This was good news for all cyborgs. It meant Jarcor’s codes still worked and he hoped to escape, like Khajal and many others before him, had done.
By the end of the day, the Taucet colony had been taken. The human slaves found in it were removed to Camp Freedom, and a few men were ordered to stay at the colony to demolish it entirely. Bretdon was one of them.
They searched the whole premises looking for other prisoners or hidden Taucets, but the place was empty.
Or so he thought.
Bretdon was making his last tour around the place, when he spotted a small group of Taucets running out of the settlement, from a hole on the ground they hadn't noticed before.
He considered warning his men, but there were only three Taucets, he was sure he could get them before they went too far.
He ran after them, but it didn’t take him long to realize the Taucets were a lot faster than him, and that was remarkable since a cyborg was able to run as fast as forty miles per hour. He sent out warnings to his men he was in pursuit of a group of Taucets, but he wasn’t sure the message went through since he was quite far from the colony by then.
Despite their speed, the Taucets didn’t have much resilience and one by one, Bretdon took them down. By the time he got rid of the last one, it was around four in the morning.
He was a considerable distance from the colony and from any military base. Going back to the colony would be a waste of time since his men had orders to destroy the place the minute they were sure it was empty. According to his maps, the nearest military base was two days away from his current position.
Bretdon rubbed his face, trying to make the right decision. If he tried to escape, his programming would attack him immediately and subdue him with severe pain. His other option would be to set course to the farthest military base he was able to find and look for someone to open up his primary control system for him to free himself.
That way, he might be able to fool his programming and avoid the pain. Of course, there was always the possibility of being found by the soldiers following his tracking devices, but he could allege confusion at the moment of his capture.
Determined not to waste this opportunity to escape, he set course to the furthest military base, using the roads as much as he could so they couldn’t accuse him of hiding in the woods. It would also give him a better chance at finding someone he could persuade to help him.
He walked for several hours without spotting a living soul. His programming system kept showing him the coordinates to much closer military bases and though ignoring those suggestions caused him some pain, it was bearable, since he wasn’t escaping per se.
He was about to lose hope of ever finding someone on those deserted mountain roads when he heard a vehicle coming his way.
Ophelia grumbled for the hundredth time. She regretted her decision to drive all the way up to the mountains, especially when the government had announced the presence of Taucets in the area. But she needed to visit her mother and driving there had seemed the easiest way to do it. Ever since the war had started, commercial flights had been forbidden, since the Taucets could easily take down the flights, and the same happened to trains, so the only way for one to travel around the country was by using a car. Of course, the government didn’t encourage such journeys, but they hadn’t forbidden them. It wouldn’t look good for their alleged democratic ways.
The trip had been difficult from the start. Most of the roads were destroyed at some point, and Ophelia had to make a lot of detours to continue. That had caused her lose a lot of time she didn’t have.
With a deep sigh, she ran her fingers through her long, dark chocolate hair, tucking a stray lock behind her ear.
Her mother’s constant calls didn’t help her much. The older woman loved to complain, and Ophelia’s delay had given her a lot of reasons beyond the usual to complain. Ophelia lived too far; she was still single; Ophelia would never give her the grandchildren she had been waiting for her whole life; Ophelia’s job kept her too busy. The list was endless.
She was talking to her on the phone that afternoon, and that was undoubtedly the reason she didn’t see the man until it was too late. She hit the brakes, but the car only slid on the frozen road, hitting the man before hitting the trees on the side of the road.
With her heart drumming on her chest, she jumped out of the car and ran to where she had seen the man standing, just a few seconds ago, sure she had killed him.
But to her surprise, he wasn’t dead. In fact, he was pretty much alive, standing next to her car with a gigantic weapon in his hand, pointing it at her. “Were you trying to kill me?” he snarled at her.
She took a step back, scared as hell. The man was huge, easily over six feet, with massive muscles. Quite an imposing figure. “No… no… I’m sorry… I didn’t see you… I didn’t mean to hurt you…” she mumbled.
“If I weren’t fast enough I would be under the wheels of your car,” he grumbled, exaggerating on purpose. He wasn’t going to let her go before making her help him.
She raised her hands, helplessly. “I really didn’t mean to. I can take you to the nearest hospital, though I haven’t seen a hospital in miles. But perhaps there’s one up ahead…” she babbled, too nervous, as she wrung her hands. It was too dark for her to see the man in detail, but she could tell he wasn’t like any man she had seen before.
Breton smiled. He had her exactly where he wanted her.
“Lady, lady, please stop! You’re making me dizzy with all your mumbling,” he groused, closing the distance between them. “You’ve damaged one of my circuits. All I need you to do is fix it,” he added, with a wicked smile.
She took another step back, more scared than ever. What the hell was he talking about? Circuits? Was he an alien? He didn’t look like one. She gulped, gathering the courage to ask. “Circuits? What do you mean by that?”
“Yes, lady, circuits. Haven’t you ever seen a cyborg?” he asked, mockingly. He was sure she hadn't. The Government did their best to keep citizens away from cyborgs. They didn’t want them to realize they were more human than their propaganda claimed.
“I have a name, it’s Ophelia, so please use it,” she grumbled, still trying to assimilate what he had just said. “A cyborg? A real cyborg?” she finally asked, amazed.
“Yes, lad… Ophelia, a real cyborg. Is there any other kind? Now, can you help me, or will you leave me here hurt?” he asked, lying blatantly. Her car hadn't touched him, and if it had, the car would be more damaged than him, but she didn’t need to know that.
“No, no, of course, not. Just tell me what I have to do, and I will help you,” she assured him, taking a deep breath, before taking a step closer to him.
Smiling, he grabbed his knife and handed it to her. “I need you to cut the skin under my armpit to access my main control system,” he explained, feeling a jolt of pain rushing through his body, just for pronouncing the words that would free him.
“What? I can’t do that! That’s insane!” she protested, in shock. How could he ask her to do that?
He frowned. “I thought you wanted to help me.”
“I do, but, cut you? Why? There must be another way.” It sounded so barbaric, so cruel, not to mention she hated the sight of blood.
“There isn’t. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt me,” he lied, blatantly.
“Are you sure?” she insisted, feeling her stomach getting upset at the simple idea of cutting the guy up.
“Yes, I’m sure, lady. Just do it,” he grumbled, raising his arm and exposing the area he wanted her to cut.
“Oh god. This is a bad idea,” she whispered, putting the tip of the knife on his skin.
“Just make a clean cut, in a square shape, and I’ll take care of the rest,” he said, barely able to speak. This time the pain wasn’t faked.
She took a deep breath and moved the knife across his skin, as fast as she could, doing her best to control her nausea.
She couldn’t. She managed to cut half of it and had to drop the knife and turn around, unable to look at the red blood coming out of the wound.
“Hey, don’t stop,” he protested.
“Sorry. I can’t,” she mumbled, covering her mouth with her hand trying to control her nausea. “I can’t bear the sight of blood.”
Bretdon looked at her, astonished. Was she for real? Shaking his head, he grabbed the knife and tried to finish the job himself, but the jolt of pain sent through his whole body threw him to his knees.
“Damn, this can’t be happening” he spat out through gritted teeth, dropping the knife and looking at the wound.
It wasn’t big enough for him to access the primary control system.
“I’m sorry, I really am,” she apologized, worried with the pain written in the man’s face.
He looked at her, with a stern expression on his face. “Listen, lady, Ophelia I don’t care if you throw up all over me. Just finish cutting. I can’t do it on my own,” he ordered.
“Please, don’t ask me that. I’ll take you to a hospital or something,” she almost begged, still feeling nauseated.