Chapter 1: The Fall 

“Cap, I need you topside.” Knight pushed her shoulder to her face. Her hand shook, grasping the Mic wired to the radio on her back.

“What’s up?” Jace responded.

“Just get up here.” She said with grit teeth and wide, unblinking eyes.

Two refugees at the bottom of the hatch behind her squabbled. The group bobbed against each other, coagulating into a stormy ocean wave. The squabble intensified. Each wanted up first. Their voices blared, saturating the makeshift ice pillbox where Knight took cover. She hushed them. Bits of frost tumbled from the ceiling onto her white camo beanie, sliding into her jacket. The sudden chill across neck wasn’t enough to pull her gaze from the behemoth afar.

She expected to see one or two patrolling the plains. The machines’ perpetual march, the endless stomping, the unwavering crash of metal upon the terrain ate away at Knight’s sanity. Each day and night they patrolled. Spot lights with red and green targeting lasers contoured the land. A never-ending search for the living. After months of enduring the steady cacophony, the silence eroded her mental fortitude more than any miss could. Even the chaos in the shelter couldn’t draw her attention.

A rush of refugees flooded out from the hatch like a backed-up toilet, filling the makeshift ice bunker. Turmoil became stillness in the shadow of the frozen giant. The tension was palpable. By the time Captain Jace made it topside, he found it packed shoulder-to-shoulder with slack-jawed evacuees.

With a firm palm, he parted the sea of gawkers without speaking a word. His steely composition and knife-hand chopping through the crowd like a jackhammer. The highest decorated officer in the Republic and commander of the most distinguished squad, the 513th Upright Calvary Reserve. There wasn’t much Jace hadn’t seen. Upright Cavalry, the fancy name for the walking machines once used to defend the homeland. The same ones that now walked the plains, hunting for movement. Shuddering at the death dealer staring her down was all she could muster. The thought of being behind the controls of one similar made her stomach churn.

She was a first lieutenant and the captain’s second-in-command. Serving with him was the only mote of light in the darkness. Knight stared out at the mechs. She regretted ever signing that damn piece of paper. Ever getting into that infernal machine. The captain pushed on, unburdened. She always admired that about him.

Jace grabbed his binoculars and splayed his arms, ready to pull them to his face. He hesitated, the tatters of his pilot suit and winter camo gear wagged in the breeze like a broken weathervane. His bronze skin stood out against the ice, but it didn’t matter any. Thermal optics. 

Knight raised her head above the crowd. Upon seeing most of the bunker gathered in a small, vulnerable space, she turned, spread her arms wide and gyrated them towards the group. As she focussed on herding everyone back to the shelter, a measure of relief washed over her.  

She noticed a conspicuous eye twitch bobbing over Jace’s goggles. It was a bolt of static electricity rippling across the side of his face, off his cheek, flew through the pillbox and down Knight’s spine. As the last of the refugees disappeared into the bunker, she contemplated breaking code and keeping watch with him. She passed a glance to the wide-eyed group at the foot of the ladder before checking Jace again. It was best to stow that idea. She waved the crowd away from the landing, crouching to grab the first rung. Only one officer topside at a time.

If the silence didn’t drive her insane, the thought of countless worst-case scenarios brought her to the brink. After a multitude of patrols through the narrow concrete corridors of the bunker, Knight’s restlessness ate away at her. The rumble of stomachs in near unison sent her eyes toward the escape hatch. She stood at the far-end of the main corridor and tapped her foot with a steady beat.

“I need two for a run.” she said to the long central hallway lined with huddled refugees. Her voice echoed over the dull hum of the ventilation. A breeze from the ajar exit swept through her blond curls, retreating her nose into her red scarf. She didn’t want it closed with the captain on watch. Before starting her patrols, she put everyone outside on high alert. Knight wanted eyes outwards, prepare for an attack.

Two weary men shuffled before the lieutenant. They dragged their legs, shoulders slumped, arms dangling. The only constant here was the fatigue. This temporary air raid bunker wasn’t fit as a permanent holdout. Frostbitten concrete the only mattress space available. Guilt weighed upon her. They only had thin layers of fall attire. Their violent shivers sank into her skin from across the room.

“Cap, you dead?” Knight called up to Jace as she drew her pistol and ejected the magazine, her last. She looked up the ladder and holstered her weapon with pursed lips. Half empty.

The captain grunted and kicked the metal spine connected to the hatch. He’s fine. Still alive, at least.

She motioned to the refugee hugging a knapsack near the mouth of the hallway and squatted next to them. They snarled, tightening their embrace and leaning away from her. She flicked her tongue and sucked her teeth before motioning with her index finger. Deflated, the evacuee pulled the backpack off with a huff. After putting two fingers beneath the top strap and lifting, Knight stumbled from the weight. With both hands and a grunt, she hoisted the bag and upended it.

A smorgasbord of miscellaneous junk poured out, from unfilled shampoo bottles to broken eating utensils, a disintegrating brick and a piece of mangled rebar. With a furrowed brow and pursed lips, she shook her head and tossed the empty container to a volunteer. Nothing new, hording became a coping mechanism for many refugees. As her explorers climbed, watching the ragged survivor scooping up the trash with their arms, she fought the urge to help them. She needed to get back to Jace. As she closed in on the ladder, she paused and turned, finding the refugee tucking their hoard beneath their arched legs.

“Knight going out, Captain has the watch.” She said, scanning the bunker. Dazed zombies huddled against concrete walls, mustered grunts in response. Her companions struggling to pull against each rung welled disappointment within. Not that she had anything left either.

Everyone felt the same: emerging topside was always an exercise in masochism. Cover was critical so far south. A stiff gust burned in seconds. The sun also a danger, with the thick layer of ice that settled, the landscape was a giant laser refractor. Jace didn’t care. The skin exposed on his wrist, between his glove and jacket peeled. He held a firm grip on the binoculars resting against his chest.

“Cap, it’s time to go inside. I’m going to find us something to eat.” His lieutenant placed a careful hand upon Jace’s shoulder and softened her blue eyes as she rounded his hood.

A layer of flakes caked his eyebrows, furrowed at the sight of her. The slivers of what Knight assumed was ice, fluttered off his exposed lower forehead from the motion, carried away in the stiff breeze. “I want you back here by sunset. No overnights.” Jace said.

She rolled her eyes with a smirk. “Ok dad,” she chuckled as the words flew from her mouth. He was only a few months older than her, but his command style came with a measured, parental tone, “I won’t do anything you wouldn’t-“ Her hand being snatched from his shoulder snapped her attention to him.

“I’m serious. This shit chafes my nut hairs. No field trips, no special requests. In and out. Clean.” Jace said, the light reflecting off his goggles, staring unblinking. His upper cheeks, the only skin protruding from between his black eye wear and face covering, bubbled purple.

Knight batted her eyes at the captain. “Ro… roger that. Hot and fast.” The mechanical titan lingered in the distance. It towered over the highest of the skyscrapers in New Canterbury. The sight unnerved her still. It was easy when you were high to take for granted their scale. Her resolve wavered in the scope of the lifeless mech. It made her evermore grateful for this dank old bomb shelter.

With a pat on Jace’s back, she called out her leave, as is protocol, and ushered her two fellow explorers toward the dug-out snow tunnels. Jace backed away and retreated into the refuge. Watching him break from his self-assigned watch despite his clear unease was another reason she admired the captain. Rules were rules, even for him. 

They descended makeshift wooden steps into the mouth to the manmade caverns. She placed the tips of her fingers on the pistol holstered to her belt line. The first drone attack gave them plenty of parts to reinforce fortifications, but a fool left unprepared. They passed under the long, thin metal legs linked with haphazard welds that formed arches. Attached to the outer walls, small support beams made from the drones’ actuators tied the arch to the ground. The losses from that assault sickened her.

A low-built opening meant they needed to duck to get into the tunnel. As soon as they hit the carved floor, she wanted to take off her coat. The sides and lower parts of the rounded ceiling lined with a layer of steam. The cacaphony of tools cutting and digging drowned out the wind’s threatening howls. An azure glow from the sun piercing the ice above illuminated every corner. This winter was especially rough, its viciousness a bittersweet blessing. Precipitation they usually got in a year, came down in a week. A wall of snow three people high was the only reason they could evade the machines’ unwavering gaze. Despite not getting along with them, she endured their antics. After all, no one forced them to leave the bunker to build a path to keep the supplies flowing.

But passage wasn’t free, at least for Knight. Side-glances and hungry stares came from every corner. As sweat beaded on her neck and back, the lieutenant was sure to secure the buttons of her jacket, straightening her posture and lifting her chin. She fought to hold her gaze ahead, watching those straying from their duties using her periphery. If she got into another scuffle with the miners, especially today, Jace would light her up. She flinched at the thought.

Warmer humid air washed away the damp dinge of the bunker. It made breathing easier, but she couldn’t get used to the front-and-center musk. The atmosphere changed as the legion of diggers noticed the expedition’s presence. They formed a hole for Knight’s team, backing against walls, hugging their tools. Not enough for the lieutenant. But with a few choice elbows, she managed. Her group needed a strong pace to beat the tight deadline. Earlier expeditions stripped the nearby buildings clean, so came the long haul.

The tunnel’s maintained section traded blue luminance for dull gray. Shrieks of the wind quieted. The sounds of picks and buckets faded. Fewer diggers lurked so deep. As they closed in on the final outer perimeter checkpoint, they discovered the tunnel still collapsed. She let out a mild groan. The last attack was weeks ago, no reason for it to stay blocked. Knight kicked the foot of the first miner she saw. Found sleeping, no less. He tipped up his hood.

“Off to gallivant in the ‘burbs again?” His gravelly voice pulsed off the walls, and he displayed yellowed teeth.

“The bunker needs food. We’re doing a deep cut.” The lieutenant said, leaning around the corner, finding only collapsed rubble.

“Good luck then!” He pulled his cover over his face.

She slammed him in the shin. “Get up.”

He recoiled, rolling his back towards her, and peered over his shoulder. “We don’t take orders from you people. Hack up your own fucking ice.”

She flashed the holstered pistol under her jacket. “We fight and die when you inevitably dig up a mech looking to churn your guts into chum. You do answer to me.”

He scoffed, slinking to his feet. “You assholes are slave drivers.” He dragged his pickax from the wall and leaned over into a small relief tunnel, hollering. A few more miners emerged and began arguing amongst themselves. Their grandiose gestures directed square at Knight. Reverberation and echoes drowned out what they were saying, but it was turning ugly. Shoves and clenched fists. She psyched herself up to pistol-whip at least one of them. A deep holler boomed from farther along the path, silencing the group.

“Get that fucking cavern open before I have you chopping ice with your goddamned teeth!” Pierre emerged, the lead miner, waddling with a dreary approach. He kept his rotund frame through this. Streaks of silver laced his black beard. He was dependable: the first one in, last one out. Not a single worker dared to challenge him. A diesel engine, he was slow to start but hard to stop. And he hit like a freight train. Through will or circumstance, he removed the group’s glow plugs.

The miners scurried over, hacking away at ice and rubble. Before Pierre’s helmet plopped upon his head, the path showed promise. It always impressed Knight at how well the lead miner commanded and garnered obedience. His body listed toward his buckling leg. He swept his beat-up shovel under his arm and righted himself. Faster than it took the lieutenant to argue with them, the way cleared. The three forged on, Knight on point, her pistol drawn at high ready.

They found themselves in the lobby of an office building, the musk of the tunnel traded out for the mild stench of rotting flesh. This was the outer reaches. No miner dared venture out here without immense bribing. Glee filled the lieutenant at the thought of a digger team with her. The structure protruded several stories out from the ice layer. It was like walking into a giant hornet’s nest. But those hornets hunted humans and had machine guns. As they crossed the threshold, a lone drone splayed flat on the ground next to the reception desk, hydraulic fluid still leaking out onto the carpet from beneath one of its six legs. Knight fended off the desire to put another bullet in it. On the other side of the room, numerous bodies laid square, cloth placed over their faces. She knew them, residents of the bunker. Now left here, refrigerated, nowhere to bury them.

“See if you can find anything. Food only, nothing extra today.” The lieutenant turned to her fellow explorers who gave a dreary nod, staring at the corpses as they disappeared into the building’s hallways.

She paused and looked over the bodies. Her pursed lips twisted into a frown. Her furrowed brow loosened, but remained low. Knight holstered her weapon and dropped her hood, pulled her beanie off, clasped her hands together and muttered a brief prayer before the dead.

“A bloody mess, this whole thing is.” Pierre removed his helmet with one hand and leaned his weight on the top of his shovel’s handle with a bowed head.

“Some days, I hope I just suddenly wake up from this sick nightmare.” Knight held her neck low for another moment before putting her hat on and pulling up her hood. “On others, I wonder what vile sin I’d committed to have to live through this hell and pray I can redeem myself before judgment.” She offered a salute to the body before turning to the main hallway.

Pierre stared at the corpse in camouflage attire. The nametag was missing. A large caliber round tore it from the chain, dragging through the gaping hole in their torso. He swallowed hard as he replaced his hat and scurried to catch up to the lieutenant.

“Word is moving about the boys; things are growing sparse. We keep digging farther and farther to find supplies. We’re going to end up downtown or running out all together.” Pierre said.

Knight remained silent as they climbed the stairs. The lead miner grumbled, slamming his tool against each step as he ascended, his limp causing a widening gap between them. The sharp clang of the shovel hitting concrete grew louder as he scaled.

“You can’t ignore this!” He stammered between gasps for air.

Plastic vertical blinds danced in the breeze, reaching for them as they crested the last flight. Darkness challenged only by the fluttering light from the overcast sky.

“Next comes the cannibalism!” Pierre slammed his tool on the floor.

Knight squared off with the window. “I know we’ll make do until Spring breaks, then figure out something.” She said, monotone and straightening her jacket.

“Fuck off, woman. If you didn’t notice, hordes of murderer machines are out there hunting for us. What are you going to do, rent land from them?”

The howls of the wind squelched the silence. She stepped back from the window and shrugged. “I don’t know, ask him.”

Pierre found a 117, medium upright tank with a strong angled chin frozen mid-step. Less than a hundred yards out from the building, its many guns pointed straight at him. He stumbled backward and yelled, close to tumbling down the stairs. She batted her eyes at him, then turned and squared with the mech again.

“Something’s up. Things have changed.” She said, folding her hands in front of her. A distinct lack of machines skittering around below mustered a shudder. She found herself relaxed, despite the death dealer matching her gaze, the remains of New Canterbury in the distance. Discomfort rose at the realization. And thinking about the fate of those still trapped within ate away at her. The sights of the skyscrapers brought back the images of chaos. She evacuated as many as possible. Most came empty-handed. The illustrious capital city, now ground zero to the machine uprising.

“Contact!” an explorer’s voice bounced up the stair from afar returned her to the present. Her hand clutched to her pistol, drawing it in one smooth motion as she turned towards the sound of the cry.

Knight bounded down flights of stairs. She called out the challenge. “Thunder!”

She found herself in a sub-basement before she stopped. The silence evoked a tremble in both of her elbows. She shouted again. Her voice shook as she spun to search for any sign of life.

“Flash!” The other explorer responded. She turned and kicked open the metal double doors beside her. She got lucky; they were close. Across the wide basement floor, lined with pillars, she found two diggers and one of her compatriots leaning against a rattling thick steel exit way. The other was sitting on the ground, holding his arm.

Knight sprinted up to the casualty and pulled out a makeshift bandage from the pouch on her hip opposite her holster. Nothing serious, a surface scratch. “What the hell happened?” the lieutenant asked.

“We found a drone.” One miner piped up, struggling against the rattling metal.

“It’ll shoot through the door, move!” Knight stood up and threw her hand out.

“No!” They shouted in unison.

She furrowed her brow and cocked her head. 

“That’s not what’s in there. Some… thing blew past us. Tore the mech up like a wood chipper.” The first explorer said.

She blinked before taking a knee, holstering her weapon, and applying the dressing to her compatriot.

“Lieutenant, I don’t feel so hot.” The wounded second volunteer slurred his words. After finishing the bandage, she patted him on the shoulder.

She sized up the three holding against the thuds before drawing her gun, leveling it against the door. “Open it, we’ll eat hearty tonight.”

They shook their heads at her.

“I got something!” A miner emerged with several lengths of rebar and rushed to press it through the handle and across the outer steel frame.

“Drop it!” She pointed a free hand at him, “I said open it!” Knight advanced. They struggled to hold back whatever was smashing and denting the metal like an angler hacking away at ice. Her form tightened, and she brought her gun up to a high ready, aimed at the center of the door.

She got her wish. The creature threw the four bracing against the steel to the ground and burst forward. It was half dog, half lion with five eyes, two on each side, one in the middle of its forehead. Its mane filled with quills that shuddered as it roared. With a sudden stillness, it pivoted and locked onto Knight.

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Art By Alessandro Paviolo