The forest was silent and the sun rose above the trees to cover them with its rays. The density of the plant life didn’t allow the light to enter inside the forest except for a few stray beams. One of the beams managed to make its way to Deacon’s eyes. Even though they were closed the brightness managed to bug him until he rolled over.
He laid on top of Ragnar’s shoulder and the side of its head; it wasn’t the most comfortable spot, but he had no other options.
Although, the silence was soothing. Something made him want to open his eyes, but he looked around with his groggy vision and saw nothing.
“I almost feel like I’m in horror movie or something.” Deacon sniffled then snuggled himself back to sleep while Ragnar continued staring into the forest waiting until Deacon was up.
Deacon listened to nothing but the sound of the moving tree branches, birds singing, and the wind howling peacefully around him. The white noise was something that would make the most severe insomniac fall fast asleep. But not Deacon, who was already behind on his sleep schedule for days.
He quickly opened his eyes to get over the haunting feeling and again he saw nothing. Just the falling leaves that floated on top of him.
“Ragnar, do you see anything?” Deacon sleepily asked.
The Golem gave him a message and continued to stare away: No.
“That’s so weird.” Deacon slowly closed his eyes hoping to catch whatever was the source of his uneasiness.
The young man began to breathe away into another slumber. His exhaustion prevented him from even staying awake for anything urgent or otherwise. His clothes were the only things that kept him comfortable on top of the steel armor that made Ragnar. Cold was an understatement and made Deacon live out his dream of sleeping in an igloo.
Only if that dream existed.
Deacon imagined himself spending his free days in his bed, sleeping off a hangover while playing reruns of some reality TV show that didn’t interest him only to serve as something that would keep him occupied until it was time to drink again.
That’s what he looked forward to every week and damn it— he enjoyed it. If someone had told him that he would be instrumental to possibly saving the world from a possible world-ending catastrophe, he would’ve laughed at their face and say how that person hasn’t seen his personal record in his schooling days. Some days if he was drunk enough, he would take a shower and suffer from reliving his memories of being called into the principal’s office because he exploited a zero-day on the school’s new grading software. He wouldn’t have gotten caught, but after attacking twenty-two different programs— it was bound to happen. Then he hacked into the court office’s system and posted that his community service hours were fulfilled and called it a day. High school was a different time.
His face soon felt a gentle puff of air hitting his cheek. Warm and a bit moist, not exactly nature’s touch.
“Ragnar, when did you learn how to breathe?” Deacon opened his eyes and quickly yelped in shock.
It wasn’t Ragnar since Deacon was laying on him; it was a masked person who perched in front of him. The masked person’s build was average, almost athletic. Movements were ninja-like and no sound was uttered behind the mask. Six eyes illuminated from the mask, either the person’s face behind the cover had six actual eyes or it was used as an intimidation tactic.
Either way, the intimidation worked.
The masked mysterious figure had a large sniper rifle strapped around the person’s back. The gun looked as if it was ripped from a tank and then converted for personal use. Whatever this person was hunting, it wasn’t elk or rabbits.
“Who are you?!” Deacon slid down from Ragnar’s shoulder.
The masked person’s eyes shined toward Deacon and then did a backflip from the robot’s shoulder landing down in a ninja pose.
“With those eyes, I’m surprised you missed this.” Deacon whispered to Ragnar.
Ragnar messaged: I thought it was a squirrel.
“Of course you did!” Deacon scoffed at the remark.
“I should be asking you that,” The masked person’s voice sounded feminine, but a tough as nails feminine like if she’s seen her share of battles and dragged corpses like suitcases wherever she went. The masked woman drew out her rifle and aimed it at Deacon, “Shadow Cannon scum.”
“Whoa, whoa! We don’t have to shoot anybody!” Deacon tried to get her to put the giant rifle down, but she wasn’t having it.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“That’s what they said,” She sounded angrier than before, “Then you burned them to the ground! Now give me whatever you have and kneel down and face away!”
“Okay, I see this is not going to end well.” Deacon nodded at Ragnar.
The Golem lunged at the masked person, but she fired off a round that barely missed its armor. Ragnar’s speed was a little faster than before thanks to its recharged batteries. He pinched the masked person’s shirt and lifted her up while taking the gun away.
She helplessly swung her feet to escape, but her legs dangled in the air easily showing the height and strength disadvantage between the pair while Deacon watched it unfold. He began to get the hang of having Ragnar as a bodyguard, but the fact that he needed to use him as one proved to be a little disheartening. Since again he didn’t think he was going to bump into any violent obstacles of any nature. Now here he was staring at a barrel of a heavy-caliber sniper rifle while the gunwoman angrily kicked at the heavily-armored war machine to let her go.
Ragnar didn’t know what to do about it and just looked over at Deacon to figure out what was the next thing to do besides hearing her yell expletives.
“Let me go you hulking piece of—”
“Why are trying to pull with that giant cannon?” Deacon stepped by the masked person, hoping to get some answers as to why she’s hellbent on putting a bullet between his eyes.
Ragnar pulled the feminine-voiced bandit’s mask to reveal her face, her skin was a light brown and her hair was black except for the red tips that hung in front of her face. Her eyes were angrily slanted, but the hazel in her eyes stood out even when she had the scowl written on her face.
Attractive? Just depends on the person that was looking at her… and if that person was alive to tell the tale.
“I’m not answering to the likes of you! Or this tin can!” She desperately tried to squirm out of its grip and managed to slip out of her coat to fall on the ground. She couldn’t recover fast enough and Ragnar merely held her back up, but this time upside down, hoping to get her balance thrown out to prevent another run at Deacon’s life.
Her body swung back and forth, toward and away Ragnar. Her face stayed at a blank, angry expression with her arms crossed. She refused to look at the both of them, even if she was at their mercy. She didn’t give a damn.
She then decided to quickly glance at Deacon and then turned toward Ragnar’s whose patched chestplate got her eyes opened and her expression went from anger to disappointment.
“It’s you!” She yelled out pointing at Ragnar while still upside down.
“What are you talking about?!” Deacon stood below her. “You’ve seen Ragnar before?”
“Ragnar? You named this bastard!” The girl angrily continued pointing at the robot.
“It’s kind of a long story, but we’re not asking about my story. How do you know Ragnar?” Deacon asked again. “Not like you got anything else to do, besides hanging around.”
She didn’t appreciate the pun or his question for that matter. Letting him climb down from Ragnar was another regret.
“Hazlan.” The girl simply said.
“What about it? He wasn’t there.” Deacon argued.
“The Hazlan militia shot this thing down.” The girl said.
“Is that why the city got destroyed?” Deacon grew curious about her answer. “In retaliation for shooting down their weapon.”
“I don’t know! I was there when they saw this… Ragnar.” Her face showed disgust. “For all we knew, he was a spy!”
“That’s impossible! He was trying to escape from Shadow Cannon!” Deacon revealed.
“What do you mean?! You expect me to believe you?! A stranger I just met whose robot bodyguard has me hanging upside down!”
“To be fair, you tried to attack me first.” Deacon said.
Ragnar nodded in agreement.
“Great.” She sighed. “You trained it. Can you let me go first?”
Deacon nodded at Ragnar who in turn dropped her as fast as it picked her up.
She let out a grunt as soon as she made contact with the ground below; she used her hands to pat off the dirt and stood up to make her case.
“Hazlan has been a small town that stayed away from the conflict. The militia had brought in an experimental weapon that was created by their ally, Elvander. Now when they saw… that hovering over the city, they had to make a decision to shoot it down or not. They knew the consequences of doing it and sacrificed their lives to protect us. But that didn’t seem to help when this thing’s friends came in to wipe us out. My dad stayed behind to fend them while my mom escorted me away from the border to make sure I didn’t witness the destruction. All I had left was this prototype rifle and a vengeance that will not go away… until that thing and their leader is dead!” She aimed her rifle at Ragnar.
“Show her, Ragnar.” Deacon signaled at its chestplate.
Ragnar quickly opened up its chestplate to reveal Elvander’s fuel cell that it was attempting to smuggle out of Shadow Cannon’s grasp.
“That’s what you shot down.” Deacon explained. “It was trying to deliver the fuel cell to Elvander, but now its stuck with me because it got wounded.”
“How the hell were we supposed to know?!” She protested.
“Not like it matters,” Deacon sat down on the grass below, “it needed a human escort to get to Elvander.”
“So? Where is he?” The girl sighed trying to stifle her anger. “Aren’t you his human escort?”
“I don’t know, Ragnar said that he never saw him or never made it out of wherever it escaped from. I’m not sure which one.” Deacon sighed. “I saw him fall crashing down outside of my house and I ended up patching the wound. So now I’m babysitting this big guy until we get to Elvander.”
“Was this before or after it said it didn’t work for Shadow Cannon?” She tried to get to the bottom of it.
“Before? It doesn’t matter now. I took the gamble! Besides, I’m just a phone repairman and Ragnar is just… Ragnar.” Deacon answered.
“Well.” She put away her rifle. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, I guess. I’m Ashe. My last name is not important to acquaintances.”
“I’m Deacon Maynard, and I’m glad you’re not going to shoot me.” Deacon extended his hand for a handshake, “So I take it you will be joining our little bandwagon?”
“By the looks of it, you don’t have a gun or any sense of combat skills. Plus if I get a better chance of killing their piece of crap leader then I might as well roll with those odds.” Ashe began to walk past the duo.
“Thank you? I guess?” Deacon looked over to Ragnar who just shook its head in shame and followed the girl that was almost going to shoot it.
“You don’t have to be like that, Ragnar!” Deacon followed them out of the tree line of the forest.