The Cambria Series: Wound | Teen Ink

The Cambria Series: Wound

January 8, 2016
By Hetzer BRONZE, Savage, Minnesota
More by this author
Hetzer BRONZE, Savage, Minnesota
1 article 0 photos 6 comments

He had been wandering ever since the blizzard set in, desperately trudging forwards through an unending sea of white flurries despite making no visible progress towards shelter- towards anything at all. The wind howled at him in laughter, poking fun at his futile efforts. It had been his only company for hours now. His nose stung and his gloved hands had long since gone numb from the cold, along with his feet. Harvey feared that if things kept up frostbite would set in.

The outline of an automaton revealed itself from a bank of snow to his right, buried up to its head. The two circular disks it had for eyes weakly flickered a bright cherry from within their skull-shaped home, which was fashioned from polished golden brass. Half of the casing appeared to have been crudely torn off, revealing a jungle of wires all rooted to a cranial bed of circuitry and miniature protruding gears.
“Extensive ele-ele-electrical damage detected within cra-cra-cranial structure…” Harvey knew the machines usually had a higher tone of voice, but this one spoke in a quiet and distorted metallic drone. “... DN-1 unit in need of re-repairs.” 
Harvey pressed his hands to his neck, feeling a chill rush through the whole area despite only his gloves touching it. He approached the machine and knelt over on his tiptoes beside it. “DN-1 activate system diagnostic.” He said. A few sparks flew from the machine’s head as it turned a little to look Harvey in the eyes, a deliberate piece of programming created to make the machines seem more human.

The face twitched a little before the entombed man of metal spoke. “DN-1 d-d-d-diagnostic shows extensive damage to chest, leg and arm structures. He-he-head structure also indicates extensive damages, but operable.”
“Activate location recognition.”
“Location recognition systems offline due to in-in-insufficient data.”
Harvey sighed in frustration, placing his hands on the automaton’s head and looking through the various multicolored wires that were exposed on the leftmost portion of the skull. He found one of them had been unplugged from its port, but appeared to at least be intact, unlike its primarily burnt counterparts. He plugged it into a port at random, hoping to meet with success.
“Activate location recognition.”
“Gathering environmental data,” Said the unit, taking another length of time before saying anything more. “Scanners report an a-a-anomaly in this sector. If organic life remains in the area for t-too long, there is a 99.86% likelihood of expiration here. It is recommended you eva-eva-evacuate immediately.”
Harvey cursed under his breath. “Yeah, great, but where am I?”
“Gathering environmental data,” Another pause. “Results a-a-are inconclusive. Alternative documentation is available during these cir-circumstances. Would you like me to read this documentation?”
“Alternative? Whatever, just read it.”

Above the screaming wind around him, Harvey could now hear the clickity-clack movement of gears turning from within the head of the automaton as it accessed its database. “Recitation of log 4187,” What followed was a completely different voice that was still distorted but sounded as if it belonged to an actual person, perhaps in his late thirties. “Our current research has been both very intriguing and very frightening. We’ve discovered the existence of these sort of rifts, theoretical wounds within the fabric of reality created by some kind of unknown energy. Now, uh, you’re either a member of the Regiment 8 High Academy or in one of these wounds right now. I’m going to put a script into this program inclusive of each scenario, so hold tight. Also, keep in mind a lot of this is classified, so now would be a good time to exit out unless you are in one of the aforementioned groups. Thank you.” More turning of gears and the voice had changed back to the original one. “If you are a member of the Regiment 8 High Academy, please say ‘aye’. If not, please remain silent.”

Harvey did as he was instructed, remaining silent and feeling utterly lost by what was happening, but holding on to the faint sliver of hope that this could somehow help him escape the frozen nightmare around him. 
“Secondary re-response is available under these conditions. If you believe you are in a rift please say ‘aye’. If you do not, please remain silent.”
Hesitantly, Harvey said “Aye.”
“Accessing d-d-data,” Expecting another length of relative peace, Harvey jolted upon hearing a resounding metallic screech in the distance. It sounded as if a bird, perhaps a parrot or hawk, had its call amplified a dozen times and filtered through some kind of aluminum funnel. It frightened him, shaking the very earth beneath his feet. The voice of the presumed human returned. “So it appears you may be caught within one of these strange rifts. If this really is the case, I regret to inform you that escape may not be, errm… Possible,” A chill ran down Harvey’s spine for a reason other than the cold. “I personally think your first order of business should be giving us an explanation as to what is going on so we can get a better understanding of this phenomena.”

Harvey’s eyes briefly lifted towards the ‘sky’, which was concealed by a torn sheet of white, casting its dark grey blotches only through what few cracks existed in the storm. Another screech rang out from the distance. It was closer. The voice returned again after a little hiatus, breaking Harvey’s nervous gaze towards where the cry originated. “You see, uh, we’ve sent drones into these storms before and they don’t tend to come back. Sometimes they do, though, and they… They, uh, don’t look all that pretty, you know? A-Anyways, DN-1 and 2 variants have been modified to send out a powerful distress signal and create an audiolog for these kinds of theoretical situations. Should prompt you in a second.” The gears started to turn again, but Harvey felt more preoccupied with the rhythmic shakes in the Earth that were slowly encroaching him.

He stood back up and turned around, a shaky hand falling to his hip and struggling to wrap around the handle of his flintlock pistol. He drew it and held it at the ready, trying to ignore how much it was shaking for the sake of his own confidence. Robot voice again. “If you would like to activate the distress signal, please s-s-say ‘aye’.”
“Aye.” Harvey said in a half whisper, not realizing his mouth had fallen open a little.
“Emitting distress signal. Please prompt for access to audiolog recorder or further in-in-in-information.”

Then, at the edge of Harvey’s limited vision, something revealed itself past the swirling depths of the storm. It was a hulking figure, about seven feet tall at the least and elevated by what appeared to be a set of giant metal talons. Through the sudden rush of adrenaline, Harvey could tell it was some kind of robotic bird. It remained perfectly still, watching him with two bright red eyes on either side of its beaked metallic face. This thing was a nightmare version of a raven, body adorned with miniature spikes and colored as dark as pitch.

Harvey’s feet were tree stumps, rooting him in place and not daring to take a single action. Some kind of terrible staring contest had emerged between him and the razor-clawed machine. Neither side produced even a decibel of sound. The gun in Harvey’s hand began to shake more and more, his finger slowly applying more pressure to the trigger. The thing facing him tilted its head to the side in a quizzical way, each movement sending a squeaking groan into the frigid air.
“Begin audiolog.” Said Harvey.
“B-B-Beginning audiolog recording.” Harvey pulled the trigger expecting the projectile to have no effect and not being disappointed as a brief flash and deafening crack marked his position. The round caught the creature square in the neck, sending out a shower of sparks as it ricocheted harmlessly off, leaving a patch of its metal hide glowing a bright red.

Harvey lowered his weapon and watched the creature unfold its razor-tipped wings. “If you’re listening to this, don’t send help. If you find this, run.”

There was a earth-shaking screech.



Similar books


JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This book has 0 comments.