I throw the grenade towards the cluster of machines ahead of me, and dart into the forest. I can hear the explosion behind me, there’s a fierce roar followed by gunshots, and before I can make any sense of it a tree trunk beside me shatters into splinters. I don’t stop. If I stop, I’m dead. The ground is littered with rocks and dead branches, and I trip more than once but I don’t slow down. I can still hear them behind me. The thumps of their heavy feet, twigs breaking, the sound of metal moving, traversing the forest with ease. The woods are thick with vegetation, brushes and pinetrees. The sun is on my back, lighting the way for me as I run for my life. But not for a moment I stop. I’m marked for death by these… Hunters.
Before I know it, I leave the trees behind and I can see the cloudy skies above. My light is gone, and rainfall is not far behind. The clearing is large, and there’s no cover. Woods all around. I can still hear them behind me. My chest aches, and my body is numb. My head feels like it’s going to explode, and I feel sick to my stomach. My legs are just about to give in. This place will be where I meet my end, I grow certain of it. There’s no point in running anymore, I’m only prolonging the end.
There’s a slight, cold breeze upon the air and the pinetrees gently rock back and forth, as I sit down on my knees in the clearing. A rumble in the distance indicates thunder, and a slight drizzle of rain begins to fall.
“What a somber end” I think to myself. “Even the sun shuns me now.”
I hear them behind me, coming through the underbrush. That terrifying, bloodthirsty roar as it sees me. The sound of a blade being extended. Jesus, this is going to hurt. I shut my eyes.
The other Hunters let out similar roars. But as I expect death, something happens that not even a Hunter-Killer Machine can predict.
A brutal, deafening crash sends me to the ground as it comes smacking down. I barely have the time to see a nearby tree being obliterated by the sheer force, and the Machines standing around it, for one brief millisecond, see it approaching. Their electrical bodies contort and twist violently, before erupting in four grand, bright green explosions that send shrapnel and orange metal parts all over the area, before collapsing into nasty, entangled piles. I scream as it happens. I think that for a moment, if they could, the Hunters would’ve done the same. A bright light, then death. It feels oddly appropriate… And almost supernatural. You can’t buy this kind of luck.
It takes me a little while to gather myself before I can clamber to my feet. My ears are still ringing after the lightning strike. I don’t know how I’m still alive, though… I feel slightly singed. My antagonising foes lie spread out around the tree that’s now burnt and shattered. I slowly approach them, as if they would suddenly come back to life. One of the machines has it’s bladed arm pointed straight up, at me. It’s big enough to cut me in half.
On it’s shoulder sits some kind of device, it resembles a camera, or perhaps binoculars. It still gives off a faint glow, so I carefully pry it loose. Looking through it, I start to realise how the Hunters could’ve followed me so closely. An Infra-Red vision scope. Displays anything living or heat-source in bright yellow. Everything else is red or blue. The thrashed bodies of the Hunter Machines still glow faintly orange. I kick one of them in anger. All it does is hurt my foot a bit.
Pocketing the Thermal Scope, I start to move away from the clearing. It’s cold as hell outside. No snow yet, but the rain and the wind is not helping. I need to find a place to lay low, to hide. Anything for a cup of coffee, hell, a roof over my head. A large ridge sits in my way, so I climb it. The wet rockface makes it precarious, but after what I just survived it’s a cake walk. With all the adrenaline going through my battered body at the moment, I doubt anything would stop me now.
The top of the ridge reveals the valley below. There are roads, farms, fields… The farmlands! That’s where I am. I can see the top of a church tower to my west, but a pillar of smoke rising nearby leaves me discouraged from going. I’m in no shape to fight anything. My luck reserves feel like they’ve run out. Turning my head east, there’s mostly just farmlands and roads. I do spot a crossing, though. A few houses, and a news kiosk. A few cars as well, perhaps one of them still has the key in the ignition? It’s not much of a plan, but it’s better than freezing to death. The climb down would probably qualify as something of a risky gamble, but with some effort I manage to not trip and break my neck. Considering the state I’m in, there better be some keys in one of those cars. And a few million crowns. Yeah, and a bottle of champagne. That’d be golden.
There are a few houses at the crossing, but considering the location being so exposed in every visible direction, it doesn’t feel safe to take shelter here. A thick fog is also rolling in, blanketing the entire area in a nigh impenetrable mist. Better to get moving. Get north, to the mainland. It’s far, but with wheels… It’s doable. Just need to follow the main roads.
My stomach grumbles. Another problem that I try to just… Put in the back of my head, focus on surviving. No, that’s not happening, is it? I need to eat something. I stagger up to the blue news paper kiosk. It’s adorned with some ice cream signs, some newspaper headlines. Some news about the Berlin Wall, and the end of the Iron Curtain. Wait… I stop for a moment. The Cold War is over. But… There are these Machines everywhere. And there are no people. Cars are left abandoned in the roads, and the houses appear vacated. Were we wrong to assume that it was really over… Or is this the beginning of a Soviet invasion?
I think about it as I rummage through the garbage bin. Nothing but trash. Eagerly digging to the bottom, I end up cutting my hand on a broken soda bottle.
“FAN!” I proclaim loudly. “Helvetes satans jävlar…” I grumble a long line of swedish curses as I make my way around the back. I wipe my bloodied hand against my shirt. The wound’s not very deep, it’s more another annoyance than anything to worry about. The door to the kiosk however is completely pulled off it’s hinges. From the outside.
I cautiously peek inside. It’s dark, but empty. What looks to be drag marks can be seen on the wooden floor, and stains. Dark red stains. Shit. Another reason not to linger. I search through the cabinets, and to my delight they look like they were recently restocked. There’s Bepp Soda, Chocolate wafers, candybars, chips… I fill two bags and probably my entire mouth with candy before I head back out into the rain. The sugar helps me focus, a bit. Maybe it’s just placebo, but it does feel a little bit better. Now, to get a car. There are two cars here, a white Björk, and a Ville station wagon. Tossing the bags in the back of the Björk, I sit down in the drivers’ seat and begin to check around for keys. It proves to be an easy task, as they’re still in the ignition.
Who leaves their car just like this? But no matter. The engine hums to life with the turn of the key, and I let out an enthusiastic cheer. I am out of here! Onto the main road, then to the Östertörn Bridge, and… Wherever. Preferrably behind some heavily reinforced military barricades.
I pull out onto the main road, and speed up. As the engine growls, I barely make out the noise in the background, a kind of heavy thumping sound… Approaching somewhere up ahead. As I peer through the windshield at the foggy road, an enormous, dark and bipedal silhouette comes into view.
One single red eye staring back.