‘Go!’

Blasting the car door off its hinges, Jared jumped out the same second that the automation started firing. From the get-go, the man could hear the bullets hitting some kind of metal. Seeing as such things were not found on the ground, he guessed the location had been more accurate than expected.

Rifles were never known for being incredibly round-efficient, and neither were they known for lasting a long time when the trigger was pressed fully down while it was on automatic. Even if the automation had let go of the trigger after two seconds, the clicks coming through the air hinted strongly at the fact that Jared had just lost his cover.

Yet it also meant that he needn't worry about being shot by his own assistance. The seven meters between him and the suspected bush was cut short within a second, and Jared lounged after the position that he thought the criminal would be.

Jumping directly onto the ground the thief was supposed to lie on, toes ready to break the criminal's spine, Jared found… dirt. Wet dirt, yes, but normal dirt nonetheless. There was no human body to be seen.

Because of the chance that Jared might have missed the criminal on his way down, the officer stomped his feet a few other places in the bush. Again, nobody was found nor crushed. That was not something he had hoped for. That meant that a very angry criminal was close, had a weapon, and with the exact location neither seen nor heard.

‘Behind-’ the automation sent. Jared was sure the construct sent more, yet he was distracted by his body moving faster than his mind, jumping forward a few meters. There was the sensation of a bullet grazing his back. It twisted off its original trajectory due to the armour he wore under his uniform, yet Jared knew it would have penetrated easily if not for his movement. Though, it did reveal the criminal's location, so he supposed it was an easy trade-off.

With his pistol in hand, the man twisted his body to the side, letting his feet catch off the dirt and making himself lose his height. It didn't matter, as long as he got the criminal within his sight. And… he most certainly was, able to see whatever the hell the thief was supposed to be looking like.

The sound of bullets hitting metal hadn't been a joke, and Jared could clearly see why. The criminal was wearing it across his entire body, nothing left shown but the few gaps where he needed to be able to move his shoulders, legs and whatnot. There were no obvious weaknesses to it, but that didn't stop Jared from trying to find some nonetheless.

Three shots were made to the right eye of the criminal, all three hitting the small slit that allowed the thief to see. It didn't penetrate and hit the skull, sadly enough, but it made it possible for Jared to get up again and charge.

Since the thieves rifle was lowered, his chance was clear. Tackle the criminal, use his strength to rip off the armour, and arrest or kill them. Easy. That’s how Jared saw it mentally, the man having formulated the plan in the span of a single second. With how slow the movements were on the criminal, he thought it would be easy.

That was until a swing of the arm suddenly picked up much more speed than what the other parts of the body would suggest. It hit Jared in his shoulder, just as the officer had been ready to tackle the criminal. With the blow coming so suddenly, there was no time to brace for impact at all. Jared fell to the ground, not by choice but by force.

In those first instances spent on the ground again, head by the criminal's feet, Jared was able to observe a small knife close to his eyes. The instrument was tied to the thieves ankle, sure meant as a last defence. How utterly interesting that nearly all the cultists had been in possession of such a thing. Maybe it had been a cultural agreement between them?

A long breath being exhaled was heard from up top. Jared tried to turn his eyes up to the source, yet those pupils of his didn't want to obey him fully. His body was hurting, the adrenaline being used to settle everything down again. One would have thought that the pain would have brought him back to full, yet it only seemed to bring his body down to new levels of tiredness. He was well and truly screwed.

The cocking of a revolver was not the sound he wanted to hear. Extremely not so when there was only one suspect who could have done it, that being the one who was fully fine with putting it into Jared’s head. Somehow, there was enough power to try and get off the ground, his arms trying to push his body upwards. That was met with a hard kick to the stomach. Didn't help that the boot crushed into his body was made of metal with sharp edges.

At least it allowed him to look up at the thief. No face could be seen. It was all hidden under that metal mask. It hid everything from Jared. A shame, really. He would have liked to look them in the eyes, just to show some last-minute act of defiance. Instead, he had to lie on the ground, doing his best not to realise just how scared he actually was of what was to come next.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Another attempt was made to get up, but a swift kick stopped him once again. That one hurt more than the first as if the criminal was doing his all. What kind of honour was that, kicking a man already down? Then again, Jared was being kicked by scum so he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. Pride mattered little like this.

His body wasn't responding much anymore. He could prop up his upper body anymore. He could hardly even keep his eyes open. Not that he failed with the latter. He refused to look away from what was going to happen next. He needed to know the exact moment it would happen.

And it would happen, the gun being used was already loaded. It was brought over to face his head. Jared thought up trying to get up again but thought better of it. There was no way it would work. It would just be another kick to his stomach. Or maybe the thief wouldn't even do that. It didn't matter.

The trigger was pushed down. Forgoing his pride, Jared did close his eyes at the last second. Fears had more power over him in those last moments.

…

Moments that didn't seem to stop. The shot was ringing in his ears, yet he felt as alive as ever, albeit with hearing being lessened somewhat.

Opening his eyes, he saw the automation in front of him. Or at least some of it. Blue blood was leaking to the ground, most of it coming from the construct head. The thing had no scalmp anymore, the front of it having been blown up.

Yet that didn't stop it in the slightest. It held the barrel of the revolver in its hands, stopping it from being aimed towards Jared. Yet it was instead aimed at the construct. The man couldn't truly comprehend what he saw, until the moment where the thief fired his second shot. And the third, fourth, and fifth.

All the shots hit the construct in the head, the automation losing more and more of it as time passed on. The top of the head was fully gone by that point, everything having been blown out. It was splattered on the bushes and ground behind it. The hands around the revolver slackened.

The sight was like God had spit on the world. Jared’s pulse was fired up. Grabbing the knife on the criminal's leg, the strength that he didn't know he still had left was returned to his will, and the thief was tackled. The revolver was taken ahold of and thrown away.

The criminal tried to hit him again, but Jared was ready for it and deflected it. Raising the knife high, he jammed it into the throat of the thief, there being a small opening at the bottom of the neck. He twisted, turned and jammed it up and down as much as he could, doing his best to get as much out as possible. He must have hit the artery right because the blood being splattered once he removed the knife was more than he had seen for a long time.

The thief was dead from blood loss before ten seconds had passed, as the movements grew still. The criminal was dead. And seeing as Jared hadn't been shot in the head in the moments after that, the office guessed that that was the last of them.

Letting go of the knife, Jared let himself fall to the ground once again, his body not really wanting to do anything but pass out. Not that he let it do that. If he fell unconscious, the winter cold would bring him over the bridge before he could even blink.

He needed to get up. Jared’s stomach was screaming in pain with every breath he took, yet he continued on. Sitting up, he tried to get into contact with the station… which turned into one big failure. He needed to find that jammer. He needed to report this in.

Getting up with the help of a tree for support, Jared accomplished the feat of getting up on his feet. He felt his body being as unsteady as ever as if a large breath would be enough to make him clatter to the ground without a word. Maybe that was why his body was refusing to take on, a sharp being felt every time his lungs tried to fill with the slightest bit of air. Or he had broken a rib. It was either of the two.

After a minute of painful searching around, he finally did find the jammer. With the help of knowing how short a distance the portable ones were, he found it in a bush close to the car. It was a small, annoying thing, only visible due to a small lamp on the side which hadn't been covered well enough. Jared thanked the gods for that, as he raised his left foot and utterly crushed the thing beneath his sole. He said he had been able to do just that a few minutes earlier to somebody's skull. They deserved it after…

…

Oh, yeah. Staggering back to the place where the criminal lay motionless on the ground, Jared’s tired eyes finally made out the fact that there was a similar corpse of an automaton beside it. Blue blood was still leaking out of its head, the body of the construct lying motionless in the meanwhile.

Alive or not, capable of thought or not, capable of choice or not, it had decided to save his life through using its own. Jared’s would-be partner had pointer a revolver at its own head in favour of it being pointed at his. He didn't care if that didn't mean anything to it. It meant something to him. Getting down on his ass, he propped the head of the automation upon his thigh. The eyes on the constructs were without movement. They just looked up at the big sky.

"You were good until the very end," Jared muttered to the dead scrap, even if nobody would hear him. "You might not have deserved the place until the end, but I don't feel like complaining anymore. Good on you for that."

His lungs were tired after only those few words. Jared would have fallen to the ground himself, if not for a tree catching him halfway down. Propping himself up against the bark, he looked down at the construct again.

Its eyes were still open. With a careful touch, he closed them. They didn't need to be open anymore. They had-

‘I highly discourage physically interacting with sensory organs. Further damage risks complete replacements to be made,’ a certain automation sent him. An automation that was meant to be dead.

…

‘Why are you still talking exactly?’ Jared had to ask.

‘To warn you against directly interacting with-’ the automation was about to answer, yet Jared stopped it halfway, knowing that the answer wasn't what he was looking for.

‘The top half of your head is missing. How exactly are you still talking?’

‘I am not talking. I am using the police channels to communicate instead, due to the extreme damage done to my head,’ the automation answered.

… Right. Not alive meant it could survive fatal injuries. Jared should have guessed that.

‘Did you hear anything I said to your body verbally at the last minute?’

‘No, I have not. If needed, I can look through your records and listen to them-’

‘That’s not needed,’ Jared was quick to cut in. ‘Would there be any extreme dangers from me moving your body up to the car?’

‘There would be none. All vital features are not located in my head and therefore are not in danger of further damage. The worst estimate would be replacements to the sensory organs.’

Jared took a deep breath, as he started carrying the heavy piece of junk over to the car. His cheeks were a bit red. Contacting the station, he spent the next few minutes making a report to his boss. That helped calm the nerves somewhat.