A child’s song…soft and sweet…almost like a lullaby. It was pure innocence, floating on a gentle breeze. It lingered in the air, a delicate and fragile thing. Then a churning tide of darkness surrounded it. Something approached; the blackness cut by a fine thread of red light.

Gray bolted upright. The thick haze of sleep receded. The air was humid and heavy with the aroma of damp hay. He blinked and spun around to see large double doors open to the outside. He was in a barn. He heard the child singing.

Annabelle.

Two giant strides and he was at the doorway. He turned the corner to his left and saw Henry standing behind his sister, holding a pitchfork. The boy looked up at Gray.

“I’m just keeping guard,” he said, holding up the farming tool.

Annabelle glanced over and smiled. “You’re awake!”

Gray did not respond at once, scanning the surrounding land to gauge their position…to measure their degree of safety. He saw a ramshackle structure about two hundred yards away and his sluggishness lifted. He remembered where they were. “How long have we been here?” he asked.

Henry shrugged. “Since it first got light out.” The boy pointed toward the structure. “That’s where the man in the wall lives. You went in there to give him food, remember?”

Gray nodded, finally meeting their eyes. He did remember that. And avoiding the Machine, with help from the dog. It was a pity to lose the protection of the bunker, but he knew of a better place. “How long did I sleep?”

“A bunch!” laughed Henry.

Gray took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m sorry for that. I think I’m growing again. When that happens, I get tired.”

The twins came closer to the giant. He motioned for them to go into the barn and he followed. They sat on the bare floor after Gray swept the hay aside with his foot. “Don’t touch the hay, could be bad stuff growing on it.” The children nodded.

“I could tell you were growing more,” said Annabelle.

“You could?” replied Gray.

She nodded, pointing. “Your thumb is gone.”

Gray held his hammer-hand up and examined it. Indeed, the thumb, the last remaining digit, had finally been absorbed. “How about that.” Henry got up and walked over to investigate.

“And,” Annabelle continued, “your words are better.”

Gray nodded. “I feel clearer up here,” he added, tapping his skull. “Like thinking is a little easier.”

“Wow…” said Henry, still examining Gray’s appendage and marveling at the thumb’s departure.

“That’s why you’re so tired?” asked Annabelle.

“Think so,” said Gray.

“Ooh!” shouted Henry. “It’s like you’re…molting!”

Annabelle frowned, seemingly contemplating her brother’s statement. “You’re right, Henry! It is like that!”

Henry’s eyes were wide as he turned to Gray, then back to his sister. “Ha!”

Gray laughed. Then the smile on his face fell and his expression became one of great concern and then, dread. He heard a noise outside. Bright sunlight squeezed through the spaces of the barn’s lumber, painting vertical rows on the opposite wall. These rows were broken by a moving mass of shadow. Gray rose and turned toward its source. There was a loud WUMP! and he was launched backward, crashing through the structure and into the adjacent field.

Annabelle screamed and Henry’s mouth fell agape as he stared up at the black metallic Machine as it stepped into the barn. A red beam came from its faceless head and washed across the boy, then across his sister. It reached for Henry but was halted and raised off the ground. Gray threw the Machine through the wall from which it had come.

Dropping to one knee, Gray clutched his chest and winced. Dark fluid leaked from a deep gash, trickling between his thick fingers. He pointed to a hole in the wall. “Go!” he muttered through heavy breaths.

Annabelle grabbed Henry’s hand and led him to the rear of the barn. Ducking beneath old, rusted tools hanging from the wall, they wiggled through the aperture and into the grassy area behind the building.

Gray rose and met the Machine outside. They grappled to a stalemate until the Machine’s left arm separated into two, revealing a sharp weapon which raised and swept downward, lodging in Gray’s right shoulder. His grip failed and the Machine broke free, and slammed its right fist down onto the weapon, driving it further into the giant.

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Gray cried out in pain. He swung his hammer into the black globe, but it merely bounced off, without leaving so much as a scuff.

Again, the Machine shoved the weapon deeper into Gray’s wound, causing a split to snake across his upper torso, where it united with the gash in his chest. He hollered and pummeled the Machine’s right leg with his hammer fist, crushing the knee joint. He uppercut and broke the weapon-wielding appendage, dislodging the blade and sending it flying deep into the field.

The Machine withered on the smashed leg and dropped to Gray’s level. From its chest came a white, blinking light.

WUMP!

Some sort of concussion weapon sent Gray tumbling backward again, further opening the wound in his chest. Now, the dark fluid dripped from his mouth and nostrils. He issued a thick, wet cough which spread shockwaves of pain outward from the injury.

The Machine rose, hobbled toward Gray and loomed over him. It raised its fist but halted as it was struck by a rock that bounced off its metallic hide with a soft dink!

Henry had left his place of hiding, armed with a handful of pebbles. He grunted as he hurled another at the enemy, this time missing wide. Annabelle, appearing inspired by her brother, joined the attack.

The Machine emitted the red beam again, inspecting the twins. With its attention on the children, Gray rolled onto his back and raised his hammer to strike, but the enemy noticed and stepped down on the limb, trapping it against the ground. Gray struggled but was gravely wounded, his strength gone.

Again, the Machine prepared to strike, when a metal ball rolled across the ground, stopping when it contacted the robot’s foot. The Machine stared down at it, inspecting it with the red light. Gray stared at the object’s dull, gray exterior. It featured a single, tiny dot of blinking, green light. The intermittent flashes became faster and faster until the light went steady.

Gray closed his eyes, expecting an explosion, but instead came a burst of some invisible wave, experienced as a deep vibration. The object went dead. Stirred by the sound of creaking metal, Gray looked up and witnessed the Machine’s right limb, poised to strike, fall lifeless to its side. The damaged leg joint buckled and the Machine slammed into the ground.

The twins rushed to Gray’s side. Henry reached him first. “Are you alright!”

Gray shook his head. “No.”

Annabelle began to cry. “You’ll be okay.” Henry nodded.

Searching the area from which the metal sphere had come, Gray saw movement in the shadow of a tall maple tree. A man emerged and walked toward them. Gray struggled, but got to his feet, standing in front of the twins.

The man was armed. His weapon though, was not in his hands, but slung over his shoulder. He wore a helmet with round, protruding domes for eyes and a rectangular apparatus where the mouth should be, which Gray guessed was a breathing device. His clothing was dusty and frayed in spots. He approached with his hands in a non-threatening gesture. “It’s alright,” he said in a voice that was eerily electronic. “I mean no harm.”

“Who are you?” asked Gray, although he suspected he knew.

“An ally,” replied the man.

Gray pointed to the sphere. “What was that device?”

The man stopped ten feet from them. “Low-level EMP.” He pointed toward the Machine. “It might be back online in twenty minutes or so. Better get moving.”

“You know where I’m going, don’t you?” asked Gray.

The man nodded. “Yes. It’s the only option.” He stared not at Gray, but at the children, who hid behind the giant. “Just wanted to look upon them again.”

“You remember,” said Gray. He could almost feel the man’s loss.

“I do…so long ago.” The man just stared at the twins. The cloudy eyes of the helmet concealed his emotions, but Gray suspected he was burdened by tragedy. He turned to leave. “It’s too much. I have work to do.”

Gray waved. “Thank you.”

The man walked off into the forest.

“Who was that?” asked Annabelle.

“Someone who saved our lives,” replied Gray. His wound continued to bleed profusely. “Come with me,” he said, limping away from the barn, toward the fields.

“Where are we going?” asked Henry.

“I know a place. I know someone who can protect you.”