Dead Mech Read Online Free PDF Page A

play in?”
    Mathew laughed, offering the mug of coffee.
“You want this or not?”
    “Thanks,” Jay sighed, taking a sip from the
mug.
    Mathew studied the schematics, then pointed
at the coffee ring. “If that works it’ll change the entire battle
landscape. The deaders won’t stand a chance.”
    Jay glared at Mathew, daggers for eyes.
Mathew drew back. “What? It’s fucking genius.”
    Jay followed Mathew’s gaze and saw what he
did. It was genius.
    ***
    Wrenching at his straps, Bisby tried to free
himself from his cockpit, hoping he could reach Stanislaw in
time.
    “Stan! No! It’s me! Don’t shoot!” he
screamed. “IT’S ME!!!!!”
    The pistol shot rang out, seeming
insignificant compared to the cacophony of battle only minutes
before.
    “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” Bisby roared,
pounding his fists against his cockpit’s frame until they were
cracked and bleeding.
    Slowly, fearfully, Bisby lifted his binocs,
looking down at Stanislaw’s wrecked mech. It took him a second to
focus, but when he did, he wished he hadn’t.
    Bisby prayed some day he could erase that
image from his memory.
    ***
    Masters and Harlow left the mess hall,
grabbing at each other and laughing. Harlow stumbled, tripping them
both up and they crashed to the hall floor. She quickly took
advantage and pinned Masters, straddling his hips with hers, slowly
rocking back and forth.
    Masters licked his lips and let out a
playful growl. Harlow leaned down, nuzzling against his neck.
    “Careful what you start,” Masters warned,
his breath coming in short gasps as Harlow nibbled at his ear.
    “Think we have time for a quick one before
the briefing?” Harlow asked.
    “No. You don’t,” Capreze said, stepping past
them both.
    ***
    Using all his skill as a mech pilot, Bisby
carefully pulled apart Stanislaw’s cockpit, exposing the body of
his mentor and friend.
    The colossal hands lifted Stanislaw’s body
away from the wreckage and into the air. Bringing the body to eye
level, Bisby said his silent goodbyes, then deposited the corpse in
an auxiliary cargo pocket.
    Bisby turned his mech 360 degrees, trying to
get his bearings, not trusting the minimal info his navigation
scanners were giving him.
    He spotted the ridge and pushed his crippled
mech in that direction. The direction of the mech base. The
direction of home.
    ***
    “Okay, everyone settle down,” Commander
Capreze said. “Let’s get through this as fast as possible and get
on our way.”
    The mech pilots grabbed a seat, ready for
the daily briefing. Capreze sipped at his coffee, glanced at his
tablet then started in.
    “Alright… Only real order for the day is to
keep an eye on Balsam Ridge. Harlow noticed some activity out there
yesterday and we should probably keep a watch on it. Harlow?”
    “Nothing, really. Just some Rancher
movement. They didn’t engage, so I didn’t either, but they watched
my ass the whole time.”
    “Okay, next quick item…”
    ***
    Bisby pushed his mech as fast as he could
without the thing falling apart. He knew the damage was bad since
he couldn’t engage the motor drive; he was walking the thing in to
the base. Even with the hydraulics working, the long trek was
starting to take its toll on Bisby’s legs.
    Off to his right he caught movement. He
tried activating scanners, but they were shot. He was walking
blind, a 50-ton target with a living meal in the cockpit and a
quickly putrefying corpse in the auxiliary cargo pocket. He raised
his binocs.
    “Fucking great,” he muttered.
    ***
    Downing the last of his coffee, Jay rubbed
his eyes and pushed away from his worktable. “That might actually
work…” he muttered. “But first, some real work.”
    He crossed the hangar to a partially
dismantled mech, grabbing a span-hammer on the way. He surveyed the
mech, taking in the wounded behemoth.
    Nodding to himself he raised the
span-hammer, took aim and whacked the mech in a junction point just
above its ankle. He listened carefully then