Christchurch was in shambles. Smoke billowed in massive columns from the corpses of war - countless numbers of tanks, jeeps and helicopters lay destroyed and burning. Scattered throughout the city as V1 continued its blood-hungry rampages.
Who could have predicted that a single robot could have laid seige to a city all on its own?
Where did it come from? Who built it? What if there are more? What if it's a declaration of war? Do we need to build fallout shelters? Are some questions floating around the minds of the average person. Of course the event had been leaked for the world to see. Through social media, the situation was now the crux of every newspaper, every television set, every mind of everyone on Earth.
Captain Jebediah Jenkins knew that there were already United Nations meetings in progress about this event. He also knew that him and his team were likely the only organized survivors with a working vehicle. And help isn't on the way.
"Hey. Captain. I've just broadcast a seventh SOS call." Said the technician, Kirton as he returned the radio handset back to its slot on the Humvee's dashboard.
They flew over a bump in the road, gaining a few seconds of air before coming back down to the ground with a clunk!
In a humvee, you really feel everything the car feels. Most soldier's tailbones were so bruised that they had become permanently purple.
"And?" Inquired Jebediah, returning his attention to the slightly more serious issue at hand.
"No response, again. I'm starting to think you're right. We're totally alone out here." The Technician replied in a panick tinged voice.
Jebediah rubbed the bridge of his nose and assessed the situation.
One humvee, four soldiers ; tearing down the streets of a torn city, not knowing if they were chasing an enemy down or being hunted by a beast. Their code name, Foxtrot 12.
The grizzled man sharing the rear seats with Jebediah was an infantry soldier called Butcher. He was a skilked marksman, outrageously Australian, clutching a carbine rifle to his chest as a decrepit cigarette smouldered in the corner of his mouth. Jeb often found himself under the impression that the soldier simply kept the same cigarette there and had forgotten about it as it slowly became another part of his body.
Apart from standard military uniform, Butcher liked wearing an old safari hat, with a faded red ribbon around the base of the rim. His beard was stubborn and solid.
The driver was a Private. He had been assigned to Jebediah's team only during this particular crisis. They had never gotten his name. So they just called him Private.
Private was pretty young - by just looking at his face you'd likely believe he was in his 20's. However his routed and retreating hairline would tell you he's had many years of experience as a demolitions expert. He was covered from head to toe in all kinds of explosives - grenades, pipe bombs, c3 and c4, detonation devices and he even carried phosphorous and chlorine gas.
It's dangerous to even be in the same vehicle as this man..
The technician was a young boy at 16, who was attending Army Cadets as the evacuation happened. His name was Kirton. Kirton shivered frightfully as they rolled past an upturned and crushed tank with horrid amounts of blood pooling from under it.
"So, how's your first day in the field, kid?" Asked Butcher with an oblivious cheesy half-grin. Kirton stared blankly at butcher, face pale.
"..Pretty bad." He replied in an empty tone. Jebediah wouldn't blame this kid if he never wanted to even look an army recuriter in the eyes after this, let alone attend basic training or God forbid he board another humvee..
They screeched around a corner, coming to a sudden and jarring halt in an empty but otherwise pretty looking plaza. The sound of water gently trickling from the centre fountain was the only thing holding back total eerie silence.
"Damn it all," Cursed Jebediah, "we've lost it's trail."
"No worries cap'n, we'll find that blue bastard soon enough.. But we can hang here and listen out for the radio in the meanwhile." Said Butcher, jabbing in the general direction of the Humvee's dashboard with his thumb.
"I suppose you're right..." Murmured Jebediah, stroking his chin as he assessed the area.
The plaza was completely empty. Commercial and office buildings all around stood still and silent. Not a single car was parked. There were no birds or any sign of life around.
The machine had left a path of destruction in its wake. Wherever it went, a bloodstained, blazing, smoking line of madness and all the evil of mankind's creation followed it. However, that line did not pass through this plaza. The trail had gone cold.
To the right, behind the quaint fountain and a row of flowering bushes in bloom was a four lane road, long and winding all the way to the coast. The street sign read "Ocean Boulevard."
Peering down the road, one could see the layers of Christchurch, the rows of apartments, townhouses and other buildings slinking away until a slither of twinkling blue behind them all - the waters of the Cook Strait.
They waited for a while, the slow trickle of the nearby fountain giving backdrop for the teams thoughts, each of whom thought it better to keep those thoughts to themselves.
Just before the silence became awkward, their radio began to beep furiously at them, like a fishing rod it pulled them from the depths of their thoughts and out into the real world.
Kirton clumsily meddled with the handset trying to get it out but after a soft click, he was finally able to break it free of its slot.
The call came in. It started with intense crackling - static white noise. Then a frantic voice cut through.
"Any available units please respond! We are under siege. We have civilians who need transport immediately. I repeat. Any available units, please respond!! Over."
"Foxtrot 12, we read you loud and clear," Replied the Captain, leaning over the front seats, "please describe your current location. Over."
The voice at the other end seemed slightly relieved.
"We're currently at number 6435 Gallant Drive, the parking lot. The target is pinning us down and we don't have much- time-"
The voice was overcome and drowned out by a resounding flood of blaring static.
Everyone looked expectantly at Jeb for some kind of plan. He massaged his forehead.
"Here's what we'll do." He started. The other soldiers leaned in expectant and nervous.
"This is a do or die operation. Our objective is to draw our enemy away from the area. So we will be using distractory tactics."
With one hand he patted Butcher's shoulder and shook him a tad, in a brotherly fashion.
"Me and Butcher here will enter the building, find the target, before drawing it out the main exit."
Butcher nodded.
"Now, Private. Your task is to set up explosive devices outside the main exit. You will detonate them immediately after we exit - not a second after, not a second before. Understand?"
Private glanced back, locking eyes with Jeb, not a mote of emotion on his face. His eyes blank but cunning.
"This will likely not defeat it - but damage it. Then we will drive away quickly. It will chase us. Kirton. Your job is to be a getaway driver. The streets are empty around here. We need you to get us to the beach in one piece. Can you do this?"
Kirton gulped. He slowly nodded.
"I won't let you down, Captain Jenkins."
Private put his foot down on the gas, the engine of the humvee kicking in, growling like a tamed beast. The car spun around, kicking dirt up before sprinting away back down the road from where it came from.
The wind whistled between the open bars of the humvee as they rocketed down empty streets, screaming around every corner just to make it to the destination in time.
On either side, nondescript buildings passed by, a blur. None of them parking lots.
"Look sir!" Kirton pointed up over the heads of the buildings before them, and standing high above them was a large parking garage, columns of different coloured smoke gently rising from between each layer.
"Butcher. Get ready." Ordered Jebediah, as he holstered a pistol.
"Ready as anything." He grinned, opening his jacket slightly to reveal at least ten extra magazines stored on the inside.
"The hell'd you get those?"
"Borrowed em'."
Jebediah rolled his eyes and nodded.
Within moments, and many sickening sharp turns, they had screeched to a halt right outside the parking lot. The smoke rose high into the sky, dimming the sun.
Jebediah and Butcher leapt off the back of the vehicle, landing on the ground quietly.
There were no sounds coming from inside the building. The shadows within were overwhelming. The two soldiers walked cautiously towards the entranceway, when an echoing sound of gunfire split through the silence like an ax through wood.
"We're gonna have to stick together here. Stay alert."
Butcher nodded.
The two soldiers disappeared into the darkness, guns raised and all senses on high alert. Jebediah could feel the first beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead.
MEANWHILE...
V1's robotic joints whirred as it rounded the corner. This level was empty, but it's next refuelling target was close, yet hiding. It had just heard the sound of gunfire. The human's first mistake.
I MUST TRIANGULATE ON THE SOUND'S POSTION.. the machine decided.
The engine inside growled, calling for blood. And V1 would answer that call soon enough.
Stalking the parking spaces, a perfect hunter, it moved forward on and on.
There was a door up ahead. The light within flickering slightly but still turned on, spilling its amber glow through the window, streaming across the floor.
V1 approached the door,detecting the sound of meek breathing somewhere very close..