Earthbound

Copyright 2015 Adam Lewinson

All rights reserved. Printed in the United States
of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any
manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of
brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents
either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

www.adamlewinson.com

Cover design by Lizzie Gardiner

Published by A4 Publishing

Thank you for reading Earthbound!

This is book one of a three book series, which stems
from my love of three genres: Action/Adventure, Sci-Fi and Western.
I hope you enjoy it!

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If you want to know the truth, I’m not gonna
tell it to you.

Pace might but he’s a little busy right now,
as am I, surrounded by hordes of metal Mankins with lasers aimed at
our skulls. He’d still tell you the truth, though. That’s just who
he is. Eff him. Eff them. Eff everybody.

It’s pretty easy to pick apart Mankins.
There’s nobody in there. No soul. It’s just metal. I want to get my
hands on the guy controlling the metal. That’s the sweet spot. But
right now, I’m not
seeing how that happens. I’m
not seeing how we get past the
thousands of Mankins closing
in on us right now. We deserve it I guess. Kind of. But then again,
we don’t deserve any of this. We’re innocent. I swear. Mostly.

Pace and I don’t need to talk through our
strategy for escape. By now we’ve been through so many scrapes
together that we know each other’s rhythm for this kind of thing.
One glance and we know our plan. That’s what we did this time too.
But once we ran inside the lobby of this skyscraper and the Mankins
started to encircle our position, we glanced at each other. We knew
we were effed.

This is more of a requiem than anything else.
If Pace was telling the story he’d made it more romantic. That’s
him. Not me. I’m a realist. I know the true nature of the world.
The carnally unforgiving nature of the order of things. Kill or be
killed. Eff or get effed. And in the end, all you can do is go out
in style.

We’ll do that. In a few minutes we’ll have no
choice but to burst out of our position, guns blazing, taking out
as many Mankins as we can. Not that it matters. There are just too
many of them.

Regrets? Yeah. Sure. Never had much luck with
women. I’m no virgin, let me be clear about that right now. But I’m
too much of a loner to have a girlfriend. Pace never had that
problem. He did pretty much nothing but boast about his experiences
with women while we’ve been racing across the Great Plains over the
past couple of months on the run from just about everybody. Girls
love him. I’m so tired of hearing about it that I want to punch him
in the face. Make it bloody and swollen, so he’ll look more like my
sad-ass face. I’m not ugly, I know that. I’ve just been punched in
the nose too many times. Pace thinks my nose got knocked a little
to the right during that fight back at Town Hall with that asshole
Boze and his group of followers known as the Nuggets. I think he’s
right. That really hurt and I was too pissed off to let the doctor
fix it. Now when I look in the mirror it kind of suits me. Scares
people away a little bit. I like that.

Pace exhales deeply, finishing the last of
our water. He leans back against crumbling drywall. He doesn’t want
to look at me. I don’t blame him.

“Sorry about Rebecca,” he mutters.

I don’t respond. I’m too fuming. Then a
moment later he looks over at me to make sure I’m still listening.
Still alive. I’ve got a pretty bad wound opened up under my
ribs.

I can’t look at him. He
should
be really effing sorry about Becca! It’s a
worthy apology. But probably too vague for someone facing certain
death. Is he sorry because he slept with her, or sorry that I
didn’t? I really wanna make him feel pain over that. But now’s not
the time for resentment. Now’s the time for forgiveness. But that’s
not my style.

Eventually I just glare at him. Pace knows
I’m pissed. But all he can do is laugh.

I wish I had Pace’s sense of humor. His
vagabond debonair style. That’s what girls like. That’s what Becca
liked.

It makes me sick.

I resent him a little I suppose. He’s always
been the golden child. I’ve always been the bad boy. I’ve done so
much fighting while he’s done so much loving. Or whatever you want
to call it. Just once I wanna get the girl. But that’s not gonna
happen. I wish I had done a little more living before I do so much
dying.

Whatever. I don’t hate him though. He’s been
my best friend when it mattered. Nothing’s changed that. Death is
the only thing that’ll change that.

“What are they waiting for?” he asks.

I just shake my head. I wonder, what are they
waiting for? We’re outnumbered over a thousand to two. Bad odds,
even for us. But it’s Mankins. They don’t think. The person doing
the thinking obviously wants them to wait. Maybe wait until I bleed
out. Lower the odds.

I hear the march. Jackboots. That
unmistakable clank of metal marching in unison. It’s pretty faint
but it’s slowly getting louder. I look at Pace, he hears it too. He
knows. We don’t need to say it out loud.

Bions.

The guy tracking us gives us way too much
credit. He must really want that bounty on our heads – quadruple
for dead instead of alive. But still, in this situation he doesn’t
need to ship in the Bions to guarantee a kill. If I get the chance
to talk to that guy, maybe in the next life or whatever, I’ll have
to tell him he’s effing crazy. There was no need for the Bions.

But why not take every advantage, I guess.
We’ve gotten out of pretty bad scrapes recently. Maybe he’s smart
not to underestimate us. And Bions give such a good psychological
advantage. They’re so much harder to kill than Mankins. Not just
physically – they are tougher, but a kill shot is a kill shot – but
they used to be human, kind of. So they think like a human.
Smarter. Unlike a simple Mankin, they adjust. Also there's the
guilt factor. It’s not just all metal. There’s something sentient
in there and it's not their fault they're enslaved in metal. That’s
the challenge. It’s harder to pick apart a sentient creature but
I’ve done pretty much a lot of that too.

Can you imagine the torment? They want to be
killed. It’s putting them out of their misery. But they’re
programmed to survive anyway. Hell, maybe there are a few out there
who just wanna live like anyone else. I dunno, I didn’t ask many of
them before I shot them dead.

The jackboots get louder and closer. Pace
just laughs. I shoot him a what-the-eff look.

“So much for getting starbound,” he howls.
This keeps him in stitches. I don’t see what’s so funny. Never did
have much of a sense of humor. Instead of honoring him with a
response, I reach into my pack and grab my last bite of buffalo
jerky. Never did like it. Too salty. But it’s ruined anyway cause
I’m thinking it’s the last bite I ever eat. Probably is. Could have
been so much better.

Eff Pace – he’s right about us never getting
off Earth. That was always his fantasy anyway, not mine. Me, I like
having both feet on the ground. He wants to fly. He wants to go out
there into the stars and find out what happened to our ancestors.
Eff ‘em, I say. They left, they forgot about us, the last thing I
wanna do is catch up with them. Well, someone else is gonna have to
follow after them anyway. Clank clank clank. Man that’s loud.

I load two of my last few charges into my
Persuaders. I’d remove the safeties but I pried those off already.
Never did much like safeties. I look at Pace. He and I know it’s
time. Take our stand before the Bions get here. We have no chance
now against the Mankins – we have
zero
chance when the Bions arrive.

“This is gonna be difficated,” I say.

We crouch into position. Can’t lift our heads
much more or we’re in firing range. The lobby of this skyscraper
was in pretty bad shape before we got here anyway, and it didn’t
handle the energy blasts well as they accompanied us inside. The
windows were shattered before anyway, but now big chunks of
concrete were gone too, which at least gave us ground cover for a
while. I suspect the Mankins’ blasts knocked the hell out of what
was left of this building’s foundation. Maybe the skyscraper will
collapse on top of all of us. Hah, that would be justice. But
there’s probably no hope for that. As we’ve learned, these
structures were built pretty strong. Despite the neglect and rot,
they’re still hanging in there. That’s kind of how I always saw
myself being if I was lucky enough to live to an old age. Yeah,
don’t remind me. But at least we’re gonna die in the only place
that’s ever felt like home. The Old City suits me so much better
than my real home ten miles away. I belong amongst all this decay.
Although I wouldn’t mind seeing Black Eagle Falls again. If only to
try to figure out what was so seductive about them. Why my mother
decided to jump in and never come out. Maybe I’ll ask her soon
where I’m going. No, not that I’ve ever been much for church
schooling, but I’m quite certain that wherever my mother is, I’m
going somewhere else.

I wonder if there’s anything I’m supposed to
say. I look at Pace. I bet he’s wondering the same thing. And then
I see this slight moistness in his eyes. He’s not scared, that’s
not him. He’s not afraid to die either. Neither am I. It’s
something else. I feel the same way. But eff him if I’m gonna say
it out loud. Instead we both nod. It’s time.

As I apply some pressure on the triggers of
my twin Persuaders, one image pops into my mind. Becca. Why the eff
should I think of her? Other than she’s the most beautiful effing
thing I ever seen. She’s never ever even looked at me the way I
wanted her to. She’s just got doey eyes for Pace. At least that’s
what I always thought. But Pace had to go putting ideas in my head.
Hours on end riding across the plains and loping our way over
mossed-up freeways, you gotta fill up the time somehow. He was just
talking. There is no way she likes me. That she’d want me. Pace,
fine, but me, I’m just the other one, the bad one to stay away
from. But I can’t help but regret that I never even told her how I
felt. I’d do it now. If I ever had the chance.

Pace and I rise up in unison. Instantly we
feel the sting of energy blasts whizzing past our cheeks. I don’t
mind the singe, I just want to keep shooting until they connect
with my skull or my chest. Man, they’re everywhere. We line our
backs up against each other, as we always did when we got cornered.
He takes one flank, I take the other. They’re easy to kill, these
Mankins. They’re cheap – really bad programming. So it’s just a
numbers game. We just keep firing until invariably one of them will
get in a lucky shot. I kill a dozen. Maybe more, I have to stop
counting, but I can’t help myself. I give Pace cover while he
reloads. He does the same for me – or tries anyway. I get nicked in
the thigh. Have to keep standing. Have to hold up Pace. He’s not as
good a shot as me. I think I just killed my fiftieth. Going for my
record. That’s a way to go out. I’m killing a lot of ‘em. Maybe we
have a shot. Maybe. But there’s just too effing many of them. And
we’re nearing the end of our ammo. I’m not hearing the sound of
jackboots anymore. I squint away from the sun and see them – the
Bions are here. They’re raising their cybernetic arms and taking
aim. Unlike the Mankins, they don’t miss. I raise up my arms too.
But unlike those stupid robots, I don’t need to take aim – it’s
second nature by this point. I can manage two more Bion kill shots,
one from each gun before the others beat me before I have the
chance to beat them. I pull back the triggers.

And then everything turns white.

Being at the end makes me think about the
beginning. Not the beginning of my life – fortunately I can’t
remember coming out of my mother’s womb. Or my baptism. Welcome to
the world. Now drown. No, I’m thinking about the beginning of my
dying.