Outside, we found ourselves close to the edge of the town. Moving quickly, I reached the treeline of the nearby forest. When I say forest, don’t imagine a place filled with green-leaved trees and teeming with wildlife; here in the Wasted Earth, a forest was merely a collection of dead wood and harsh scrub. Whereas before the fall such places were bastions of life, now they stood as deserts within an even larger desert. The trees resembled tall matchsticks, offering little in the way of cover, and the branches and twigs were more akin to barbed wire. A.C.E. pushed its way through the sticks with ease, and I followed closely behind, careful to avoid being skewered by a branch.

As we pressed deeper into the forest, the ground beneath our feet became crunchier, littered with fallen branches and dried leaves that hadn't felt life in years. The air was dry, carrying a faint smell of decay that seemed to permeate everything around us. Despite the desolation, there was a haunting beauty to the stark landscape, with the occasional ray of sunlight piercing through the barren canopy, casting sharp shadows on the forest floor.

We walked for a good two hours north and thankfully the Robo Rexes hadn’t followed. However, those things had been known to track a man for days so I was still on high alert.

A.C.E. maintained a steady pace ahead, its sensors constantly scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. I kept my eyes peeled, too, wary of anything that might pose a threat—not just the mechanical kind, but for the myriad of other things that might not be friendly.

Suddenly, A.C.E. halted, its body tensing as if on high alert. "Caution, sir," it said, its modulated voice barely audible. "I detect unusual activity ahead. It is not robotic—it seems to be some kind of electronic distress signal."

Curiosity piqued, I followed A.C.E.’s lead as we cautiously approached the source of the signal. The underbrush grew thicker, forcing us to navigate more carefully through the tangled web of dead vegetation. After a few minutes, we came upon a small clearing, and there, nestled among the debris, was a downed drone, its sides flickering with intermittent sparks.

"It appears to be some kind of reconnaissance drone," A.C.E. analyzed, bending down to inspect the device more closely. "It's still transmitting, but barely. It's severely damaged."

"Can you tell where it came from? Who it belongs to?" I asked, glancing around nervously. I pointed to the bullet holes in its frame.

"Someone shot it down. From the damage, they must've used a high-caliber round."

I nudged the drone with my boot. It was a design I hadn’t seen before, but given its size and the materials it was made from, it looked like it was military in origin, from before the fall. Occasionally, you'd spot drones drifting lazily in the sky, continuing on some long-forgotten mission set before the fall. With fusion batteries, they could stay airborne indefinitely. Only severe weather or hostile action could bring them down. Marauders and settlers often targeted them as they scavenged for parts.

In one settlement near where I'd grown up, there had even been a guy who called himself a drone hunter. He roamed the Wasted Earth searching for them. If they were in the sky, he'd shoot them down with his homemade sniper rifle; if they were on the ground, he'd strip them. The guy made a fair amount trading the advanced components found within. The world may have ended, but there were still some folks with the know-how to maintain and keep things running. To find a drone like the one at my feet, to someone like the drone hunter, it would’ve been akin to finding a treasure chest filled with precious gold.

“I cannot triangulate the location to which the drone is transmitting. However, it seems to be somewhere far to the north.”

I looked at the sky. The light was beginning to fade and I did not want to be stuck in a forest at night. The drone was a mystery for sure but we were losing daylight.

“Okay, leave it. We have to keep moving. The edge of the forest can’t be much further.”

We departed the crash site and continued travelling north. After another half an hour the scorched barren trees finally gave way to a road. Getting my bearings I pointed westward. That was where the homestead Beth had mentioned was likely to be. I hadn’t a clue whether the others were even still alive but if they were then the best bet was that they’d have continued onwards to find the supply drop. If the worse had happened, well, I still needed those supplies.

*

We made good time despite the harsh terrain and reached the dirt road Beth had mentioned. It wound down a narrow valley that opened up onto a wide plain. Today, it was a dust bowl, more akin to a desert than what it must have been before the fall. My father told me that when he was young, the land was covered in greenery, so much so that it was often referred to as a 'green and pleasant land.' I’d never seen it. The nuclear bombs and the fallout from the machine war had destroyed nearly all of it. Cresting a slight hill, we now overlooked the plain and there, sitting alone in the middle surrounded by more dead woodland, was the homestead. It was an old cottage, probably built centuries before the fall, made of yellowish stone and likely the pride and joy of its owner in its heyday. Now, its windows were long shattered and the structure was crumbling.

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“I am detecting human signatures,” A.C.E. said.

“How many?”

“I detect ten, sir.”

Ten? I dove to the ground and crawled to the lip of the hill, hoping I hadn’t been spotted. I turned and gestured for the robot to get down too. Understanding the command, A.C.E. bent its leg joints inward and lowered its torso to ground level. I scanned the scene, and there in the treeline were two vehicles. One looked like a truck similar to the one we lost in Automaton Springs. The other was a rust bucket of a car, surprisingly still operational given its condition. My attention then turned to the house’s door, where a tall, skinny man wearing the typical weird attire of a Marauder stepped out. I swore under my breath. Two more joined him, and then Beth was shoved outside, falling heavily to the ground. She scrambled to her feet and shouted abuse at the men. One of the Marauders walked over and grabbed her hair roughly, eliciting a scream. I itched to get down there and put the bastards into the dirt.

“I can hear what they are saying, sir. Shall I patch it through?” A.C.E. remarked quietly from beside me.

I nodded.

“-go to hell, asshole!” snarled Beth’s voice through a speaker in A.C.E’s head. The robot had wisely kept the volume low so we wouldn’t be heard.

“Nah, I think me and my pals here are gonna have some fun with you.”

“Where are the others?”

“Your friends? The tall, angry-looking guy and the skinny kid? They’re fine. Well, I say that. We’re gonna take them and you, and we’re gonna sell you to the Dominion.”

Fuck. Slavers.

As if killer robots, mutant freaks, and bands of killers weren’t enough, we also had to contend with these vermin. Slaver gangs preyed on whoever they could overpower, often selling their victims to marauder gangs who’d use them as labor or force them to join their ranks. These ones clearly dealt with the Dominion. I glanced at A.C.E., and an idea formed in my head.

*

A.C.E. shifted into its diversion protocol with mechanical precision. “Commencing tactical maneuver,” it intoned, just loud enough for me to hear. It stood and began to move towards the cottage, its movements became deliberately jerky, mimicking the unpredictable behaviour of a rogue robot.

“Remember what I told you to say,” I hissed.

“Oh yes. Forgive me sir,” A.C.E. replied before swivelling its head about and emitting a loud and far too accurate for my liking imitation of an infected machine. “HOSTILES ENCOUNTERED. ELIMINATE,"

From my vantage point on the hill, I observed the chaos unfolding below. "Robot!" one slaver shouted, panic evident in his voice. Bullets began to fly, pinging harmlessly off A.C.E.’s reinforced metallic exterior.

Seizing the moment, I sprinted down the hillside, using the dense patches of dead brush as cover. My boots crunched on the dry, cracked earth, the sound masked by the ongoing gunfire. Reaching the perimeter of the cottage, I pressed my back against its cold, stone wall, pausing to catch a brief glimpse through a shattered window.

Inside, a slaver was distracted, and panicking to reload his weapon, his eyes fixed on the robot's approach. I slipped through the window silently, my knife drawn and ready. As I moved closer, the floorboards groaned under my weight, alerting the slaver. He spun around, rifle in hand, but his reaction was too slow for my swift advance. I hurled myself forward and we collided with a thud, grappling fiercely. In the struggle, my knife found its mark, plunging deep into his side. The slaver choked on his breath, a mix of surprise and agony washing over his face as he slumped to the ground, life fleeing from his eyes.

Quickly I moved through the cottage and in the back, I found Trevor and Ethan bound and gagged. "Stay quiet, you’re getting out of this," I whispered, swiftly cutting through their bonds. The gunfight outside provided a noisy cover for our escape.

"Time to finish this," Trevor muttered, snatching up his pistol and other weapons that had been placed on a table in a side room. Ethan did the same and within a few moments we were all packing. I sheathed my knife and pulled out my trusty Glock.

“Let’s go kill these motherfuckers.”

We burst out of the cottage, our sudden appearance catching the remaining slavers off guard. A.C.E., despite being shot at, continued to advance menacingly towards them, drawing their fire away from our position. We capitalised on the distraction, opening fire with precision. Soon, silence reclaimed the homestead, broken only by the faint whirring of A.C.E.'s servos and the groans of the wounded. I stepped over the bodies of two slavers, the first had been killed by a headshot from Trevor, the second from three shots to the torso by yours truly. The tall skinny slaver who’d assaulted Beth was trying to crawl away, a bullet having severed his spine. I walked over to him and placed my boot on his broken back. He screamed in agony.

Ethan, still tense, mistook A.C.E.’s post-battle approach for a new threat.

“No, wait!” I called. Too late.

Without hesitation, he raised his rifle and fired. The shot struck A.C.E. in the chest, sparks flying from the impact point.

"I am not a threat," A.C.E. stated calmly, its voice cutting through the sudden stillness.

“Hold fire!” I shouted, stepping between them. “It’s not a threat!”

Ethan hesitated, his weapon wavering. “It’s a robot,” he said suspiciously.

“Yes, but it’s on our side. Helped me get to you,” I explained quickly. “It’s a long story. You good?"

"Systems functional. Damage is superficial," A.C.E. reassured, its voice devoid of any resentment.

I walked over to Beth who had wisely crawled for cover once the shooting had started. I offered her my hand and she took it gratefully.

“Good timing scavver,” she said.

“I have my moments.”