Dex looked over at Robin.
“I’m not really a prisoner, am I?”
“Of course not, ha, ha, ha!”
boomed Robin. “Release him! He has enjoyed our themed adventure, I think? No?
See the twinkle in his eye? He enjoyed that, I think! Am I right or am I right?”
“Can I have my Makarov back?”
“Of course!” beamed Robin, and
gave Dex the weapon whilst slapping his thigh. “Would you like to come to
Nottingham Castle and meet the Sheriff? We’re really rather good friends, you
know. Except when we are jousting! Hurrah!”
“You’re mad,” said Dex, lips
compressed tight.
“No, no! We’re Robin Hood and his
Merry Mentals! Hurrah!”
“What was all that with the SIMs?”
“Hmm?”
“The killing. The slaughter.”
“The SIMs know not to come on our
turf. These are
our
tourists. This is
our
themed section. There
is no trespassing between sections. Or else we are forced to put the SIMs out
of action.”
Dex scratched his head. “So I can
go?”
“Of course! Go on, into the ride
central. Enjoy the leaves and acorns, the dung and peasants! Hurrah! I can
personally recommend the High Tree Vertical Drop. There are naked nymphs inside
that ride!” He gave a hearty wink, and Dex was sure, if he’d allowed it, Robin
would have slapped
his
thigh.
“Okay. Okay. I’m going.”
Dex had it in mind to skip the
village, head back into the woods and try and rediscover his hover bike. The
only problem with
that
was that more SIMs might have caught up with the
situation and found the bodies, and he’d be walking straight into the heart of
another damn fire-fight. Last thing he needed.
Dex walked through the peasant
village and glanced back, to see Robin and Friar Tuck waving at him. He was
sure he could see the gleam of machine madness in their eyes. It was certainly
a situation he’d never forget... as indeed was the whole holiday on Theme
Planet. Monolith Corporation had made damn sure of that!
A huge rollercoaster reared over
him as he walked, weaving in and out amongst the trunks and thick branches of
mammoth hardwoods. Some of the trunks were green, yellow and red, and Dex idly
wondered how they had managed to alter the colour of bark; but then, maybe
these were
alien
trees, or imported from far away exotic lands where the
natural colouring of such flora was different from the usual boring old Earth
shades?
An explosion detonated behind
Dex, and he stopped and turned. Everyone else in the village stopped also, and
chatter ceased - which meant this was not a usual occurrence, or part of the
local theme. Smoke rolled up through leaves, and there came the unmistakable
rattle of SMKK fire.
“Shit,” muttered Dex, and hurried
on, between the trees supporting the vast rollercoaster. Another detonation, up
ahead this time, closer than the last. Amazingly, despite an obvious fire-fight
kicking off in the forest, the rides continued to run - and even more amazing,
punters
continued to scream and giggle. Eyes were turned, yes, and Dex realised
with a start that they thought it was just the beginning of some kind of show!
Another cabaret! There was no fear. No panic. The bloody tourists thought it
was all a game!
Dex started to run, but more
explosions rioted through the jungle. More SMKK fire rattled, and several
errant arrow shafts hummed through the clearing. One struck a woman in the
shoulder, punching her back off her feet. Somebody screamed, panic swept
through the village, and people started to run...
SIMs appeared, and Dex groaned.
From the corner of his eye he saw Robin Hood and his Merry Mentalists, and
arrows hissed and snapped across the village in expert volleys. SMKKs roared,
and Dex ducked, veering left under a row of support struts. He ran, behind a
group of women and children. Up ahead, more SIMs appeared.
“DO NOT PANIC!
DO
NOT RUN! YOU WILL BE SHOT IF YOU
RUN!”
SMKKs roared, and three of the
women up ahead were punched from their feet in a bloodbath of spinning steel.
Children screamed. Grimly, Dex drew his Makarov and began firing. Bullets
chewed into two SIM faces, and they were knocked back, spewing blood and brains
from gaping holes. The third caught a bullet in the neck, and Dex leapt
forward, slapping his boot on the SMKK arm and gazing down at the wounded
Justice SIM.
“What the fuck are you doing,
motherfucker?” he snarled.
“THIS AREA IS UNDER CLAMPDOWN. THE
AIS HAVE REBELLED.
WE
ARE TAKING
THE FOREST OF IRON BACK UNDER CONTROL FROM MONOLITH.”
“You’re shooting women and
children, you dumb bastards!”
“The
area is under clampdown.
I
repeat, the area is under...”
Dex
put a bullet in the SIM’s face, smashing his mechanical eyes. He pocketed his
Makarov and picked up the SMKK, stashing five magazines from the SIM’s belt.
SIMs were notoriously a bastard to drop. The more firepower he had, the
better...
Dex glanced around, breathing deep.
Smoke plumed from twenty or thirty explosion sites now. Everywhere, people
seemed to be running, all in different directions - which suggested to Dex that
the SIMs had surrounded them. More guns roared, and more tourists went down in
bloody mists of torn and tattered limbs.
Dex ducked sideways, and caught
sight of at least ten SIMs advancing on him. “The day just gets better and
better.” Behind him was a hollowed-out tree, a doorway, and Dex ran inside, to
find a spiral stairway leading up. Guns roared, and bullets chewed at the door
frame beside Dex’s head. He sprinted up the steep stairs, bullets chasing his
heels and throwing up splinters of wood. Upwards he ran, realising with sinking
dread that this had to be either a tree-top restaurant or the entrance to a
fucking rollercoaster.
Just what I need. A fucking rollercoaster ride in the
middle of a firefight!
Outside, screams tore through the
village. There was another series of explosions, and from a window Dex glimpsed
Robin Hood striding towards a cluster of SIMs, firing arrows in a smooth,
steady stream... guns rounded on the AI, and he went down in a flurry of
tangled limbs, torn flesh, stitched nylon and Lincoln green.
“So much for his rebellion,”
muttered Dex, and paused on the stairwell at a particularly tight corner. He
cocked the SMKK, leaned slightly around the corner, and waited. There came the
stomp of heavy boots, and Dex tried to work out how many SIMs were chasing him
- he couldn’t be sure. There was more than one, at least. And that was too
many.
A SIM appeared, mechanical eyes
gleaming in the sunlight, and stopped abruptly on seeing Dex, so that the SIM
behind him cannoned into him. Dex shrugged, and opened the SMKK hard and full.
Bullets screamed, deafening in the confines of the stairwell, and the lead SIM’s
face disintegrated, hands coming up in supplication far, far too late. Dex kept
the trigger pulled, and as the first SIM tumbled back the second got it in the
face, then the third, fourth and fifth. Dex released the trigger. Smoke filled
the stairwell. The pile of SIM bodies caused a blockage, and that could only be
a good thing. Blood trickled down the stairs, and turning, Dex ran on up, face
grim, mood worse than bad, good humour all gone and pissed away in a nuclear
storm. “Those bastards,” he said, and arrived on a high platform. A cool breeze
caught him by surprise, and he gasped, and looked out across the Forest of
Iron. Trees rippled, to the edge of his vision.
Unfortunately, this was no
tree-top restaurant with bridges and lifts to other restaurants - like Dex had
seen in the brochures. Oh, no. How could Dex ever be that lucky? This was a
one-way stairwell to the beginning of a vast rollercoaster ride. It spread out
before him, twisting and turning and vast, a single thick metal rail zipping
and winding between high tree trunks and branches like a singular strand of
thick green spaghetti. He looked to his right: there were ride CARs, but they
had stopped. The whole thing seemed to have powered down - which meant no way
out. Dex was trapped...
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, as
he ran to the guard rails and climbed over. His boots hit the thick metal
rollercoaster track with a solid thud. Glancing up, ahead, he paled a little at
the wide open expanse, with vast drops to either side. He glanced below him, to
see the SIMs gathering like insects around sugar. More guns rattled, and
tourists were mown down like skittles. Dex heard boots on the stairwell;
obviously more SIMs pursuing. He had to move, and had to move fast...
He ran, thudding along the
rollercoaster track.
“The
human must stand still!”
“Yeah, right, fuckers.” He fired
off a volley from the SMKK, then ducked under a thick bough, grabbing it to
steady himself. The world was a tapestry beneath him. For a second, the whole
image wobbled and Dexter felt very, very sick - as if the track and everything
connected to it was going to uproot, and spin up above him. His hands clasped
the bough tight as vertigo swamped him, and his eyes closed, and his insides
churned.
Not now, oh, God, not now!
Bullets whined past Dex, chipping
the rail and sending sparks flashing around him. He grunted, let go of the tree
and sprinted on, boots crashing down, SMKK gripped tight, head flashing with
thoughts of murder and death. The world spun beneath him, and Dex gritted his
teeth, his body cleaving through warm air. Tree branches whipped him like a
mistress, only most mistresses wouldn’t want you
dead
; well, not
generally.
Up ahead, he saw a stalled CAR.
Inside sat four tourists, strapped in tight, looking around in confusion; stupidity
surrounded them like toxic perfume. One, a tall thin man with a hooked nose,
was feebly whining for help. Dex sprinted to the CAR, grabbed it, climbed over
the roof and landed at the front. The riders were gawping at him, eyes drawn
unconsciously to the SMKK.
“This whole place is under
attack!” Dex shouted. “You’ve got to get out, find an emergency ladder down to
the ground. You understand?”
“Hey, you’ve no right to shout at
us like that! “ stormed a red-faced woman in an obscenely tight bikini, which
bulged like a sack of wriggling eels. She was flowing out all over the place.
It made Dex shudder.
Dex gave a brief, tight smile. “Yes,
ma’am.” He turned and carried on running, as more shouts followed him.
The track wound between trees,
and hit a sudden vertical drop, which climbed into a loop. Dex stopped dead,
mouth agape. “Aww, bollocks,” he muttered. He looped the SMKK’s strap over his
head, turned and hooked his fingers into the thick central chain, and edged
himself over the drop. It was heavy with grease, and the climb tortured his
fingers, but with no other option Dex started to creep downwards. He picked up
the pace as bullets whined around him once again, and there were shouts, more bullets,
then screams. Dex didn’t dare look; he was too focused on his descent.
He heard the fat woman whining
and complaining. It soon ended.
After what seemed an eternity,
and with fingers aching, he dropped the last few feet to the beginning of the
loop. He swayed giddily, holding out his hands for balance, and then turned and
looked up at the vast loop - spying an access hatch.
Of course!
There’d
have to be some emergency procedure in case a CAR got stuck near the top of the
loop. Dex ran to it, and heaved on the heavy door between the tracks. Inside,
Dex saw a ladder to the top of the loop, and a tunnel shortcutting it
altogether. He ducked into the door as a fresh hail of bullets fell about him,
then turned, peered around the hatch and waited -watching five SIMs begin the
descent of the vertical drop.
“Let me give you something to
think about,” Dex muttered, flicking the SMKK to single shots. He lined up the
SIMs and started, casually, cracking off rounds. Sparks fluttered and the SIMs
looked around. Two attempted return fire but nearly lost their grips on the
track chain, slick with grease. Dex fired off more rounds, and managed to hit
two of the SIMs, who grunted, but did not fall. Dex flicked the SMKK to
automatic, and began spraying the SIMs. It took a couple of minutes, but he hit
them all, watched them plummet from the vertical drop, bounce from the
rollercoaster track, and soar off into the vast forest below. More SIMs
appeared at the top, and opened fire. Dex ducked back into the tunnel and ran
for it.