The Industrialist

Erik Berkley

***

Bullets sprayed behind them. It was Joe, trigger-happy, or panicky. Bullets bounced off the creature or dug into the creature’s shelled body.

As the sound of the ricochet suggested, almost all bounced off from the beast.

Lance was not sure. He covered his ears with his palms; the engine could not have been any louder. Lance contributed to being a navigator instead of a gunslinger in this case.

The screeches became sharper, louder, and more annoying than before. A cloud of dust caught up to them from behind. Visibility had become worse. Devastation had crept to anywhere their jeep would tread as such being was in pursuit.

Luckily though, the jeep still had a kick in it that the engine steadied its top speed.

In his peripherals, Damian turned occasionally to shoot his rifle for a little contribution to sheepishly delaying their inevitable deaths.

"Jasper, weak spots! Find any parts without hard shell!" Lance screamed unto a blurry cerebral AI.

"Chest...and head...Master," Jasper said, weakly.

"Aim for the chest and head!" Lance screamed. He saw George nod at that, however, Joe was preoccupied with whatever useless effort he was currently making.

On Lance’s right side, on a sudden and quick succession, the scorpion’s razor-sharp tail dug against the dusty concrete, seemingly missing its aim. It was almost rapid that the ground reverberated every time the stinger plunged against concrete.

Their jeep jerked to the side as the blow tested the integrity of their vehicle.

Their jeep swerved left to right as to confuse the pursuing Abominant.

"It’s a level 3, Damian!" George shouted, his semi-automatic rifle now turned to full automatic mode.

’Levels? Abominant has levels?’ Lance thought. He squinted at the back, trusting Damian’s Specialist driving proficiency.

Abominants were usually black-skinned or shelled, with layers of them, but this type of Scorpion had an obsidian-like surface armor exoskeleton that glassy and shiny. It was clearly indestructible, from the looks of it. With the weapons they had, intimidating rifles, and long-barreled, bulky magazine slots. Unfortunately, their calibers did little to the Scorpion.

Its leg span though covered the whole 6-meter road, clamoring effortlessly on nearby structures occasionally as their jeep swerved to sharp corners. It had ten legs, not eight, and the surfaces of the structures it climbed turned to instant rubble.

If in a very unlucky happenstance that the creature was above them, if they wouldn’t be killed by its enormous spiky Telson with its sword-like stinger, its legs would turn them to chop meat.

It was gargantuan and inexplicably fearsome, larger than the wolf Abominant that infiltrated the city. But not as fast.

"Reloading!" Joe screamed. It was his fourth magazine.

"Don’t waste your bullets, fool!" George retorted as he reloaded his second magazine. "Aim for the chest as it jumps right in front of us. Save your bullets to significant weak spots."

George was right. The beast never had the chance to fully reach them as the moment it was arm’s reach distance from them, George squeezed his trigger hard to decimate the beast’s chest.

It was bleeding black ooze liquid paired with miasma, apparently residues from the radiological infection from the biological warhead - energy filled bodies.

’Organic-chemical infections.’ Lance thought.

This dark age, majority of the Scientists had been scrappers before, and the professions useful for augmenting scrapping skills were being either Mechanical, Electronics, and Computer Engineering fields. In addition, some useful professions were programmers, Information and Systems Technicians or engineers, and a few of them were Physicists.

However dealing with chemistry, biotechnology, genetic and organic science, and chemical engineering were the rarest of professions. Chemical, organic, and genetic studies were almost unheard of before, and somehow these professionals and corresponding fields were mysteriously gone. Evaporated into thin air.

Medical Doctors however were still present.

These professions were responsible for humanity’s extinction. The discovery of biological warheads and the genetic mutation of animals to Abominants were the few projects that significantly contributed to what the world had become.

Having these rare professions and technical know-how was dangerous during this era. His father, Erik, had mentioned about them and the correlation of Lost Engineers - if one would connect the dots.

"A minute from now!" Damian said, deftly turning the wheels swiftly evading the creature’s attacks. "We are now entering the Trench Hill.

The tall structures now had disappeared and were replaced by distant flat bends of land. Barren still and hopelessness.

Their vehicle jerked due to the rough road below their feet. It was a little slope but the road got steeper every second, making it harder for their vehicle to succumb. Fortunately, the creature halted his pursuit, bloodied, and shamefully screaming in utter failure.

Their vehicle continued to press on, and everything was silent again but the wind whooshing and their engine roaring.

The two guys stopped shooting in the process. A huge satisfying sigh was released from both of them, perceptible enough even with their gas masks.

Lance’s heart thumped harder still though even they had successfully escaped their close-call deaths.

"Do you always have close encounters like that?" Lance asked.

"No," Damian answered. "It was my first time. It was so rare that we encountered a level 3 Abominant."

"There are levels of Abominants?" Lance asked.

"Yes, but the leveling of these monsters only was established by the Outsiders and us, Rebels of the Corporation."

"Level 3!" George said "Whew! That was something. Never had that one big before. I almost emptied my armory here."

George fist-bumped Joe in the back. They seemed to have misplaced happiness with what had conspired a while ago.

"I don’t follow," Lance shyly said.

"Level threes are one in a hundred instances to have faced them. Never had I heard somebody who escaped a Level 3 Abominant." George said, his voice was loud now. He gained confidence.

"What about other levels?"

"Your inquisition never stops, do you?" Damian interjected. Their vehicle now was decelerating. Dead trees heaved the sides of the road this time.

"We will meet another Specialist here. He will take us to the Outsiders’ community." Damian continued.

"Community?" His inquisition never stopped.

"We can’t go to the trench alone, kid. Jefferson told me that your utmost survival is our priority and having able bodies will ensure that. Hopefully." Damian released a soft chuckle.

Lance did not answer at that. But he was surprised that people outside the walls had somehow managed to live among the dangers of the Abominants.

"Here they are." Three of them appeared from afar, dressed to kill from the looks of them.