Butcher's landing wasn't just an example of how much Butcher had grown as a combatant; but an example of why metas were so frightening to normal soldiers. At least, the sane ones that didn't have an urge to die a heroic death.
The small group of machines and Pale ones were sorting through the raw materials left behind by the dead cartel members; one of the machines attempting to copy information from a laptop, the Pale Ones sorting through ammunition, rifles, grenades, tossing some pieces into a 'recycle' pile to be smelted down later, and others into a pile for use by the Ascension.
All of this abruptly interrupted when a massive black form slammed into one of the Pale Ones in a truly grisly moment; blood, clothing, and metal splattering the surroundings as Butcher's impact momentarily stunned him and drove him a few inches into the ground.
As he rose, the machines were already prepared; laptop set aside by one, rifle lifted; rounds fired directly at his center of mass first.. and after three ineffective shots against the armor, cycling upward; round ricoheting off of the heavy armored helmet before Butcher lifted up the massive shield, and charged... smashing it forward, destroying not just the machine as it was crushed against the wall, but also the table and laptop it was working on.
The Pale Ones moved in; firing randomly at Butcher with an assortment of submachineguns, rifles, handguns; most of them wore police uniforms, some more generic clothing; thankfully, none of them looked like a dark-skinned speedster woman. As Butcher pulled his shield around to put it between himself and the Pale Ones, another two machines stepped forward, rifles raised; immediately starting to fire at Butcher's legs, below the shield.
As Butcher grabbed his new hand-cannon and started to raise it up.. Cobalt slammed into one of the two machines with an audible splat. The machine was immediately crushed, and the blue, transluscent metahuman seemed more like a pool of jello than a man for the moment...
Butcher looked down at the puddle, blinking for a moment. The machine... simply backed away from the puddle, dropping a grenade into it. Instant decisions, instant assements...
But a complete inability to survive the 40mm slug that slammed into its center of mass, shattering the machine's CPU and sending the two halves falling to the ground. As the less effective Pale Ones continued firing at him uselessly, he simply stepped around; holstering his gun and reaching out to crush each of the orange boxes, one by one... leaving the people who wore them collapsing to the ground.
For the police.. that was it. They stopped moving. For two of the cartel members who'd been converted, they instead spasmed on the ground, groaning in pain. One of them turned up to Butcher. "Please... kill... me..." While the other struggled to sit, clearly each movement a terrible pain, but refusing to give in.
Butcher tapped the side of his helmet. "Boss, I've got a couple of guys who survived being turned into Pale Ones. One of em is asking me to finish him off. What do we do about it?"
"Clone told me that, if you left the things in until they got to a hospital, they might survive. Probably never recover all the way, but survive." The whistling of the wind against his helmet muffled his words; Eyeball was falling in, his parachute slowing him down, carefully guiding himself to land in the area Butcher had just cleared.
"Let them know that. If he still wants to die, put him out of his misery. Its not gonna stop hurting for a long time. If he's willing to fight through and try to get to a hospital... help him out. We'll take him with us until we get to the border."
As Eyeball drifted in for a landing... he saw.. a sudden flash of light, and ducked his head. A bullet whistled by, where his head had been moments ago. Fuck. He shifted, moved around... barely avoiding a few more incoming bullets. Thankfully, they stopped just before he landed; he was able to roll properly instead of coming to an abrupt, jarring halt, and let his parachute blow away.
"Fuck. Got more machines in the village. Cobalt, you up?"
A brief gurgle sound.. Cobalt was pulling himself together. "Ahhg... Yeah, gimme a sec. One of the damned machines hit me with a grenade before I pulled together. Didn't really hurt, but slowed me down." He formed himself back into his classic humanoid shape; his grenades and his shorts still intact, but his shirt, of course, torn apart.
"Alright. Cobalt, find a working vehicle. Something we can drag a few people out with. Butcher... lets go hunting."
***
Penelope leaned against the wall, eating some delicious stew her new temporary host had been making.. stew that her family might never be able to eat. The girl; Maria; seemed surprisingly calm about things... but then, her mother, as it turned out, was still alive, just a bit bruised, and helping some of the neighbors now.
"Thank you. If you two need a place across the border, my family is currently hiring. We.. well. It was one of our people that took out the cartel here. Give me a few hours and some more of this stew and I'll be able to make it out on my own, can get a message out."
A sudden loud 'pop' sound... and the lights flickered. Outside, one of the Pale Ones simply dropped to the ground, limply... and started to groan in pain. Penelope stuck to the wall, peeking out. Who the hell would be bringing EMP grenades to some backwater village? Was it a general offensive? Or... had Daddy sent someone for her?
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
***
Side-by-side, Butcher and Eyeball moved through the village, heading towards the fallen Cartel compound; launching EMP grenades just before a group of Pale Ones moved around the corner, watching them simply collapse as a group after passing by.
After making sure that none of the six men were getting back up, Eyeball headed to the next street.. and stopped. There we go, the machine that probably shot at him coming down. He fired another EMP grenade off, letting it arc in the air... and the loud pop as it went off. He started to simply step around the corner, Butcher going with him... but stopped.
The machine... didn't just collapse, like the Pale Ones. It twitched. It seemed sluggish, less effective... but it was still moving. Raising its rifle. After taking an EMP grenade less than a meter away. He frowned... "Hold up. Gotta try something out." Rather than proceeding, he shot another EMP grenade; this one directly smacking into the robot before going off.
Even the most hardened of military gear he'd dealt with would've been shorted, but repairable, after the first round. The second should make it completely useless.
The machine dropped to the ground, unable to keep its balance as the grenade smacked into its torso, before the capacitors fired... another EMP going off. But... it started climbing to its feet.
"...Fuck." Eyeball switched to an armor-piercing shell, put his 40mm revolver around the corner, and fired it off. The projectile smacked into the machine's torso, oriented; and detonated. Finally sending it to its grave.
He tapped the side of his helmet. "Cobalt. The EMP grenades are great against the Pale Ones.... but don't kill the machines themselves, just slow them down."
He turned to Butcher. "We still need to find Penelope. But... honestly, its probably almost as important we get a few of these bots to the military across the border. These guys are probably making plans assuming they can kill these things with EMP. We need to figure out whats keeping it going."
Butcher nodded... and slung the broken machine over his shoulder as they moved on. Whatever controlled it was ruined, but hopefully what was left would give some good information.
As they reached the next corner, Eyeball stopped again. "Well, hell."
Around the corner were fifteen of the machines, dozens of the Pale Ones, and... a mexican army tank. Well, not really a tank; no treads. Maybe an armored car with six giant wheels and a giant gun on it... one that could probably actually hurt, or even kill, Butcher. Getting behind cover, setting positions... in less than a minute they'd determined the direction Eyeball was going, gathered enough equipment to possibly stop him...
These things were going to be a pain. He couldn't dodge that many attacks, they could flank him, turn this into a drawn-out fight and finish him. Still. They weren't going to stop him. Holding one of his breacher cams, he visualized what he'd see if he were to scope out the area. All of the nearby streets were clear. The machines had gathered all the local forces into one group, to avoid giving him a chance to pick them off a few at a time.
Which would make perfect sense if he either weren't willing to kill the pale ones... or didn't have anything with a good area of effect. So far he'd used EMP grenades on them, so it could be the thought.
"Butch, stick to the hand cannon, keep the shield up. They have a tank. The moment they decide we stopped moving they're gonna come charging after us. I'm gonna empty out six EMP grenades to stun em, a couple of incendiaries on the tank. They're... getting behind cover, onto rooftops, just trying to make things bad for us overall, but I can handle that. Not sure how I'll be feeling in about ten seconds, so... after I shoot, go get em. Check on me once they're all dead."
He loaded up the revolver 40mm with six EMP shells, loaded the launcher under his rifle with incendiaries; double-checked. Yes, the 15mm rifle rounds could pierce them. Good.
And... smacked himself under his right armpit.
He'd given himself small, weak doses before. Never a full-strength dose. As the Reflex kicked in... he raised the revolver. Fired. Six shots. Each landing in exactly the right place, all fired within less than a second... and pop.
He grabbed hold of the roof above himself, pulling up atop it; and slung his rifle off of his back, leaving his revolver to fall to the ground.
The world seemed to be moving in slow motion as he fired the two incendiary grenades; the first, right down the barrel, ensuring that it couldn't be a threat to Butcher. The second, into the ridiculous gap at the base of the turret; a hatch that someone could look out for some reason. Closed, but a thermite grenade would still cook off the ammunition.
As the machines twitched, stunned, and the Pale Ones began to collapse, he started firing; aiming at torsos where they were exposed, three-round bursts that crippled the machines; and for the camera assemblies on the rest.
By the time he came down off the Reflex and collapsed onto the roof... the tank was aflame, the pale ones gone... and only two of the machines were fully intact.
As Butcher ran around the corner, and Eyeball crawled to the edge of the rooftop to start shooting again, he caught sight... of the two intact machines literally sprinting away, in a somewhat awkward gait that might be due to the EMP. The remaining bots, all damaged, some crippled, charged in at Butcher... giving him the opportunity to cleave them apart with the massive blade, apparently something he'd been looking forward to.
The tank barrel, despite the vehicle being on fire, swiveled to aim at Butcher; and when it went off, the vehicle erupted. The misfired round not just destroying the barrel; but cooking off the ammunition inside the tank.
As Butcher crushed the last of the machines, slamming the handle of his machete through its torso as if it were made of glass, Eyeball gingerly slid down off of the rooftop. His radio crackled.
"Hey, boss. I got us a truck. Not sure what the hell's going on, but like a minute ago the two bots patrolling over here just ran your way like crazy. Want me to meet you at the compound?"
"Yeah, go for it. If the target is close to it we'll grab her, any Pale Ones still alive, a few of these broken parts, and head for the border."
A scraping sound from one of the nearby homes.. Eyeball heard it before the door even opened, and had his rifle centered on it... Ahh, hell, he was sore. Felt like someone had gone to work on his arms, especially, with a bat.
Penelope; a piece of bread in one hand, a wooden pole being used as a crutch in the other; was standing in the doorway. "You actually passed by me already. But thats fine. Not like it hurts to walk or anything."
She started to limp out into the street, looking out at the carnage. "You're making me look bad, Eyeball. You got us a ride out of here?"
Eyeball turned to the nearest street sign.. and paused. "Cobalt, we found the target. Just... head for the smoke. We've got some cargo to take with us, so I hope you got something big."
After a moment... a rugged old farm truck with an open back pulled around the corner, the blue-skinned meta behind the wheel. He stuck his head out the window. "No computers! The EMP won't kill this one if we gotta use it!"
"...Goddamnit, Cobalt." Eyeball looked the truck over. Well, he was right. And it had enough space to carry whatever they wanted. Just... not gonna be a comfortable ride.