Iterations #114 - #172 – Come Find Me

In the depths of disaster, a thread of hope

There were dropships everywhere, damaged, out of control, on fire, a lucky few managing to turn for home but more of them exploding in mid-air or ploughing into the unforgiving beach. But he was looking for a particular one, one with a distinctive painted nose, like the toothy grin of a T-Rex skull. He almost smiled when he thought that that had been one of his ideas, years ago – how many? He didn't know – when he worked in PR, when he was still part of the real world.

He saw it: it was in trouble, spiralling into a crash landing. He dived into a hole as it skidded past, taking out a dozen soldiers before it ground to a halt. And from the gash in its side came a squad of soldiers, big guys with big guns, already firing at the mimics spinning out of the sand. And then there was Rita Vrataski, red slash markings on her jacket, already swinging that chopper-rotor sword and traversing the angel-wing guns. Born to kill. Full Metal –

And then she got taken out.

He shouted "Incoming!" as he launched himself at her, knocking her down and out of the way of the danger. But he took something in the chest, he could feel the blood flowing, and she was telling him there was a hole there.

And then she ... wait, could she be ... ?

"Hey, did you just take my ... my battery?" he said. But she was already walking away. And a mimic was squirming towards him, and he couldn't even move. Damn, she took his battery! What a bitch!

He heard himself say: "Holy f – "

This time he got there earlier, even though it meant knowing that Kimble would be mashed flat. It took him several tries: that burst of flame got him once and that damn truck ran him over in no fewer than five iterations. But eventually he got there in time, and knocked her back into the interior of the crashed dropship.

He realised, the first time he did that, that he had no idea what he was hoping to achieve. There was only a vague plan in his mind that she might be able to call for an evacuation. Somehow, the mimics had known they were coming. A quarter of the UDF army, maybe more, had been slaughtered in the air or had not made it out of the shallows. The helicopter gunships that had been meant to provide covering fire had been knocked out of the sky by the energy bolts – or whatever they were – of the mimics. The invasion had failed. Maybe what was left could be salvaged.

But even if he was able to get to a radio he knew that he would be the last person that General Brigham would listen to. There was a possibility, though, that he would listen to Vrataski, Angel of Verdun, his most decorated soldier. A slim possibility. Very slim.

"You have to call for an evacuation!" he shouted to her.

Her response: "Get off me!"

And then a mimic hit them, tearing through the roof of the dropship.

He rolled off her, and shouted: "You have to call for an evacuation!" He lifted his gun, trying to guess where the mimic was.

He guessed wrong.

He rolled off her, and shouted: "You have to call for an evacuation!" He lifted his gun, trying to guess where the mimic was. He hit it.

"What?" she said. "Who the fuck are you!?"

"We're getting slaughtered," he said. "You have to radio the General, call for an evacuation force."

She looked out at the beach, saw what was happening. "Two problems, arsehole," she said. "First, no working radio. Second, no evacuation force. This invasion was all-or-nothing. No reserves, no back-up."

And then another mimic came in from the side.

He fired at the mimic on the roof, and it screamed as the bullets tore into it. It tried to evade but he knew where it was going to go.

"You have to get what's left of the army organised!" he said. "You're the only one that can do it! They'll listen to you!"

He put a grenade into the one coming up from the side.

She stared. Then she hauled herself up, grabbed her sword. She ran outside and into a pack of mimics. She was in the air, swinging, smashing the blade into the heart of one while she fired a rocket into another. Cage had seen it before but every time he was impressed.

He took out a mimic that was coming up behind her.

And then the dropship exp –

He took out a mimic that was coming up behind her and then ran, pushing her away from the imminent explosion. They made it to the relative safety of a ditch. They paused to reload.

"How did you get to be so good at this?" she said, staring at him. He had the feeling that she was not just making casual conversation. "You in the Special Forces?"

"No, I used to be in Army Media Relations," he said. "How about you?"

"Me?" she said. "I used to work in a supermarket. Tesco. Stacking shelves. I was ... nothing."

"Then how did you get to be the Angel of Verdun?"

She stared again. She started to say: "This isn't the first – " And then a tentacle speared through her. And another mimic was coming at him.

They made it to the relative safety of a different ditch, and again paused to reload.

"You need to get everyone that's left organised ," he said. "They know you, they'll listen to you, maybe we can make a stand behind those wrecked hovercrafts over there, set up a strongpoint."

She looked around. There wasn't much left to organise.

There was a whistling sound. And then the energy bolt hit them.

Okay, so trying to take cover in a ditch, any ditch, was not going to work. Back to the dropship.

He slammed into her, knocking her down. "I'm sorry, I'm trying to save you," he said, lifting his gun and firing at the ceiling. The mimic there screamed. "You have to get us off this beach."

On his right, grenade.

"We have to go, this dropship is about to explode," he said, as they both struggled to their feet. "We have to go now."

They made it to the hole in the side.

"Wait," he said. Another mimic came leaping at them, but he was ready and gave it a full blast. It leaped onto the roof of the dropship.

Rita watched as this guy – he hadn't said his name – jumped through the gash in the hull and turned, continuing to fire at the mimic until it went down. He finished it off with a grenade. "Come on!" he said.

And then she knew.

"Come on!" he said again. "This ship is going to explode."

She stopped, staring at him. She threw her sword down.

She started to say something. He wasn't close enough to hear it.

She threw her sword down.

"What are you doing!?" he said. He took a few steps back towards her.

"Find me – "

Explosion.

" – when you – "

"What!?"

He pushed her out of the dropship, onto the beach. He ran past her, firing at a mimic.

He turned back to her, to see her throwing her sword down. He took a few steps towards her.

She said: "Find me. When you wake up."

"What!?"

"Come find me. When you wake up."

The ship exploded, an obliterating ball of fire.

"On your feet, maggot!"

He saw the bus pass. Saw her face.

Come find me.

END