The wind whistled as it blew through the semi empty streets of Pepper Spring, a once formidable city, home to over a million people. Now it was a pile of ruins. The buildings that once reached towards the sky, skinned with thick glass and bright lights were nothing but debris for the most part. Some stayed upright, but only just barely with whole sections being torn away.
Grey skies overhead, Angel didn’t have to look around to know it was going to be a rainy day. Time for the rain gear, then. Walking over to the closet in large strides, he strained his ears to listen through the crackling static of the radio for the news.
“Comin at you folks, live from the Speckled Pecker! We’ve got lots to talk about today people, but first, a prayer for the lost.” Angel stopped digging through the cloths for a moment to bow his head. “Okay! First off, as anyone can see if they just look up, it’s gonna rain today, and you know what that means. If you don’t have the proper protection, please stay inside. I mean it kids, or else you’ll turn out like Johnny down the street with no hair, rotting teeth and a small arm growing out of his belly. Don’t be like three-armed Johnny, wait for the rain to pass.” Angel pulled the heavy leather jacket woven with plated metal on both inside and out from the section of the closet before placing it against a torn, faded loveseat right outside.
“With the forecast over with, let’s be serious. Unusual movement from the Lyres in the downtown region have been spotted by some of the SORs, so you know it’s legit.” Angel quickly put on a tight black bodysuit that covered everything but his eyes. Grabbing a pair of scratched and slightly scorched metal gauntlets from the locked chest in the back of the closet, Angel thumbed the faded and torn symbol of the Black Daggers, three daggers of darkness stabbed into a bleeding sun, before strapping them on. “I know what y’all are thinking, ‘What’s a Lyre gonna do to me? They’re rats!’, but no. The Lyre’s we’ve seen may look like hairless rats, but the deeper you go in their territory, the more vicious they become. Some look like large fleshy alligators while others are like wild dogs. If they’re on the move, that only means one thing: a horde is coming.” Lifting a heavy black metal chest piece out of the chest, Angel admired the way it sucked the light and refused to shine back. Unclipping the side, he lifted onto himself with a heavy grunt before sealing the fitted metal. Angel pulled out some soft-metal pants, grieves, some wool socks and a pair of durable synth leather boots, equipping them on as he continued to listen to the radio. “But don’t worry kiddos, these things take time and for all we know it could be another power struggle like last time. But if not, we shouldn’t expect any big baddies to come out to play for at least a few months, which gives us time to prepare. The Coral Merchants are supposed to make their way here in the next few weeks and they’ll be sellin plenty of ammo, guns and armor. Until then, keep away from the downtown area.”
Finished with the armor and tying up his boots, Angel walked back over to the wall above the closet trunk. There, an all black helmet sported several silvery scratches on the metal, but the non-reflective, pitch black visor and mask were devoid of any blemishes. Gingerly, he placed the helmet on his head, then lowered the black visor and mask combo until it was flush against him. Once that was done, he pressed his finger to a section of the helmet for about three seconds where a powerful electrical discharge passed between the two before the interior inflated, tightening around his head comfortably and cushioning him from against banging against the metal.
‘Biometric scan reading… Black Dagger Operative, Angel O’Connor, confirmed.
Connecting with host… complete
Structural Integrity... stable
Scanners… functional
Anti-radiation suit uplink… connected
Black Dagger combat gear ready for deployment.’
Suddenly, the vague shapes seen through the black visor flared and appeared crystal clear before him. Angel began cycling through the different functions when the radio blared loudly.
“This just came in, urgent news! Raiders have appeared from over beyond the green zone and they’re coming down from the hills! The city guard says it’s only fifteen raiders, but they appear heavily armed, folks! Find shelter and stay there until the Pepper Spring Defence Force and the SORs repel the raiders. And please, bring your guns with you.”
Deciding whether testing to see if a few minor functions were still operable or to skip and go grab the rest of his gear, Angel quickly turned into the hallway to make towards the Shrine. Leaning more towards urgency, his heavy gear clanged and chimed as they banged against each other while he stomped rapidly towards the Shrine, his metal-leather coat trailing behind him slightly.
Reaching the Shrine, a separate room all in itself, he bent the knee and gave a quick prayer to Melissa, the Goddess of Death. On the left wall held kinetic weapons of variable uses; bows, crossbows, pneumatic guns, pistols, machine guns, sniper rifles, shotguns and even a mini-gun on the table below it. Reaching for a belt holding two pistols, their metal frames tarnished from time and use, despite the several cleanings, he wrapped the thick leather around his waist, securing the weapons and ammunition. Opening one of the pouches, he pulled on a pair of tough, black synth gloves and placed them on the center table. Debating, Angel decided against his default choice of his favorite elephant gun in favor of a short barrelled shotgun, which he placed on the table with a box of shells. Lastly, he grabbed and placed on the table a heavy metal crossbow made from advanced soft-machine metal and a quiver of carbon steel bolts. With that, he walked over to the right wall that carried all of his melee weapons. Contemplating for only a moment, he grabbed his trustful one-and-a-half handle longsword, still locked in it’s sheath, and wrapped his hand around the designated area.
‘Recognizing external device… Black Dagger Cyber Blade
Attempting Connection with external device…’
Another powerful shock, enough to kill someone, bounced back and forth between his hand and the hand-print on the sheath, ‘...connection complete’.
Grabbing the large handle, he pulled out the sword out partially and took notice of the small sparks of electricity flowing across the metal. Nodding approvingly, he locked it back into its sheath before placing it alongside his other weapons on the table. Adding to the growing pile, he chose rolls of rusted throwing knives and a normal short sword with a magnetic sheath for the collection, he made his way to the final wall in the middle. The Special Rack. Glancing over it all, he contemplated which was best. Explosives, lasers, plasmas, maybe some strap on launchers? Tapping his now gloved hands against his masked chin, he reached for a bandolier of home-made fragmentation grenades, some rough tin cans filled with gunpowder and nails. Should be enough for what he had planned today. Walking back over to the table, he grabbed a long metal cylinder and flipped the clasps holding the top on and began to prepare. After all, preparation is key to victory.
***
Walking out of the Shrine, he closed the door and confirmed it was locked after several dead bolts echoed through the hallway from the other side. Satisfied he began walking to the elevator, passing by his living room with the torn out view of the once sprawling city below and the barely working radio.
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“And remember kiddos, if you see someone walking around in a big metal trench-coat and a black helmet, pretend like you didn’t see anything. He's not exactly the social type. This is Raul, your host at the Speckled Dick!” As Angel unlocked the elevator door with little strain, the scraping sound they made echoed down the hollow elevator shaft. An upbeat song with foot stomping rhythm and with blaring saxophones began pouring from his living room. Looking back longingly, Angel sighed before jumping towards the middle of the shaft, grabbing onto the rusted metal cables. Swinging back and forth slightly, Angel began climbing down the twenty floors to the bottom. Each floor he passed was similar to the next, broken furniture, tossed papers, black marred walls from fires and in some cases whole sections of walls were torn away, similar to his living room. Some floors were closed, but he dared not opening them, because just remembering the scenes brought painful tears to his eyes. No one deserves to be trapped like that. He passed by the halfway mark and the groan of metal and small birds and insects began to fill the silence. His feet landed on solid metal around the third floor, the debris piled below hm making reaching the last two floors inaccessible by the elevator shaft. Walking through the doorway, Angel made his way towards the broken windows where a thick cable was hanging out.
Several angry hisses came from his left side and he stopped to turn his head. Several yards away, he saw several hundred pound Lyres, like small scaleless Drake's from old human mythology. They pulled away from the green, bubbly pool they were drinking from, several glowing mushrooms surrounding the water. They stayed low to the ground as they slowly approached, the air vibrating with their deep growls and angry glares held an alien intelligence. Their fleshy lips pulled back to show their large, razor sharp teeth.
Opening his left hand quickly, a powerful bolt of electricity arced outwards, striking the metal inches away from the three large Lyres. Their aggressive attitude shifted instantly as they prostrated themselves towards the floor, their growls turned into whimpering as the smell of ozone filled the air. But Angel just snorted and continued on his way towards the weekend window. Before Angel began to climb down, he reached for a pouch on the inside of his heavy trench coat and pulled out three slabs of wrapped meat. Gaining their attention immediately, the three Lyres ran over before stopping several feet away. They looked at him expectantly before we made a closed fist gesture with his right hand. Instantly, the one in middle sat down on it's rear haunches.
“Good boy.” Throwing it a slab, it chewed happily on the tough meat, causing the other two to glare jealously at their brother before also sitting, though more reluctantly. Angel then made another gesture, forming his fist into an L shape with his thumb and index finger, while bringing it down slowly. Both of them laid down with little trouble and Angel threw them each their treat. Shaking his head in slight amusement, Angel climbed down the last couple floors to the ground outside the tower. Turning around, he observed the broken down buildings that surrounded the downtown area, former businesses and apartments, destroyed without prejudice. What a sight they must’ve been before the bombs dropped, but Angel wouldn’t know.
Walking forward, he headed over to his buggy. Though the chassis looked rusted and beat up, it was strong as an ox, it’s former engine replaced by an eight cylinder from a heavy muscle car he found parked underneath the tower one day, a bitch to haul that thing out of the collapsed garage ramp, it was worth it. The all wheel drive black tires sporting large blotches of red from several road kill that refused to get out of the way. He pulled off a large metal canister that hung horizontally from his lower back and put it behind the driver seat, which he promptly entered afterwards. Flipping switches and making sure the gas line to the engine was good, he pulled a pair of keys from inside his coat and ignited the engine. A mechanical roar passed through the empty streets as his mighty chariot was brought back to life once more. Smiling behind the mask, Angel caressed the steering wheel, enjoying the feel of the engine. After a few moments, Angel felt it time to get things going and pulled a thin, layered steel skirt over the top of the buggy and similarly to the driver and passenger sides, only to about chest height though.
Grabbing the stick, he shifted the gears and began driving down the cleared road towards the outskirts of Pepper Spring, a small community called Saltville. Several minutes passed by when he saw another draconian Lyre, though smaller than his pets. It lifted it’s head from whatever meal it was eating and turned towards the incoming vehicle. Opening it’s mouth wide open, it roared a challenge before charging at it.
Smirking, Angel shifted gears again before hitting the gas and pulling his shorty out just in case. As they rapidly approached each other, the monster took notice of the heavy metal spikes attached to the front of the roaring buggy and at the last minute, jumped upwards. As if in slow motion, Angel angeled the shotgun out of the front empty space where a glass window should be and pulled the trigger, effectively splitting the Lyre in half as its vulnerable underbelly took an almost point blank shotgun blast. Toxic blood sprayed everywhere as the Lyre spun ass over heal towards the side and as Angel passed by, he put his gun in the passenger seat. Where there’s one, there's more.
***
When Angel reached the perimeter of the walled suburb, he backed his buggy In a broken alley, causing trash and dust to evacuate into the other end with due haste. He got out after shutting the engine off and lifted the steel skirt the rest of the way, sealing it from anyone, or anything, trying to get inside. He pulled out a couple of old fashioned heavy duty locks to secure the skirts to the frame, just in case. With that finished, he walked back out towards the broken sidewalk, the dirt and pebbles crunching beneath his feet.
Heading towards the large, formidable gate, armed with rusted steel spikes crudely welded on and several well distanced towers, he could hear the sounds of combat in the distance. Gunfire crackling in the distance like the disjointed staccato of some amateur composition, unintelligible screams filling the roll as the vocals and the banging sound of bodies switching from cover to cover as the drums. If one listened closely enough they'd hear the song in all those sounds. It makes the blood pound faster and the heart beat louder than anything ever before.
Angels world of broken metal and tilted buildings switched to one of darkness. Standing still, he spun around slowly, but all around was the same thing, complete darkness. As if lightning struck, the world around him flashed for just a moment and all around him we're bodies. Some were ripped open from bullet wounds, others by what looked like claws. Surrounded by darkness once more, Angel stopped moving. He knew what this was. The world flashed again, and this time there were other bodies mixed with the humans, Lyre bodies. Breathing heavily, Angel clenched his fists as once more he was submerged in the inky blackness that surrounded him. A bright flash, coming from the Barrel of several rifles lit up the darkness once more. The owners of the rifles dressed in black, similar to Angel, about four standing tall with one sitting against a building wall with a pistol in their hand. Some aimed low, at monsters gliding down towards them. The others aimed low, at charging beasts, more viscous than the draconic Lyres.
The flashes began to happen more frequently as the group repelled the oncoming wave. Angel twitched with every shot, watching as beasts fell by the dozen against the well trained fighters. Every now and then, one broke through the hail of fire and injured one of the defenders. But even then they fought back. If they lost an arm, they'd use their other. If they lost a leg, they'd take take a seat and keep firing. But even these super soldiers can't live from extreme blood loss and they began to die, one by one. When a third soldier died, the last standing ran over to be beside their comrade who had begun to push himself up the wall, one hand shakily holding the Pistol while the other held a wounded gut. Blood pooled below him and smeared slightly against the wall.
Angel reached out, a desperate want to save her, to tell her to run. But as he saw a monster, bigger than anything he'd ever seen reach out and snap its jaw around his once dear friend, he screamed.
“Nooooooo!” A bolt of lightning arced forward from his outstretched hand, the heated plasma ripped apart the shroud that had covered his world and connected with one of the rusted spikes protruding from the wall, a loud crack splitting the air louder than the gunfire from before. He watched as electricity sprouted from the spikes, dissipating along the other pieces of metal in a shower of bright blue Sparks.
“Uh… Reaper? That you?” A nervous male voice asked, with a slight nasally whine to it.
Looking up slowly, Angel stared at a man dressed in home boiled leather in the rifle tower above, flinching from Angel’s expressionless mask, an eerie visage of black as if the light around him is afraid. “You, uh, okay?” He asked.
Angel held his gaze for several lingering moments before nodding slightly. “Oh. Good. Can you, uh, lower your hand? Please?” Looking back down, Angel took notice of his outstretched arm, fingers bent forward, trembling erratically as Sparks of electricity danced between his fingers. With an effort of will, he forced his fingers to close into a fist and they did, but unwillingly. They twitched as they slowly closed, as if another was trying to wrestle control of his own body from him. A side effect of so much energy as once, he feared. As his fist finally formed and the light show stopped, Angel felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, across his whole body exactly. Another side effect he feared, but at least this one had an easy cure.
Gunshots sounded off in the distance again with renewed vigor, causing the rifleman in the tower to turn away with a pair of barely functioning binoculars towards the distance.
“Ah shit! Them damn raiders are pushin’ hard. Okay Reaper, I’m openin’ the gate, don’t go blastin no one now!” Not waiting for a response from Angel, a flashing red light brushed against the surrounding area in rhythmic sweeps as the gate slowly opened outwards.
Tightening his several leather harnesses and confirming his cannister was still attached to his lower back, he took the crossbow off his back and cocked the string back in one smooth motion, despite the visible strain on the metal. With his weapon loaded with a long, sharp bolt, Angel walked forward into the small community of Saltville.
Maybe afterwards he can pay a visit to the hills, see what’s going on beyond this small haven of civilization, or maybe visit the Lyre nest downtown. Well, first thing’s first. After all, raiders aren’t going to just drop dead now, are they?