Редактирование

Отредактируйте страницу и нажмите Сохранить. Помощь, ПЕСОЧНИЦА

== Age of Iron 0027 ==

{cnav}
AOI: Chapter 4- The Greed of Man

Old and rusted hooves patted through the grass as Cogs finally had control of his limbs. Night was far behind him, as was the fort and the animals inside it. He had travelled far through the night, marveling in the red sky and dull grass. Every so often he would kick up his heels, at the protest of his armor, and call out in glee. Still he could not remember anything other than his name, which confused him, but he did not mind much. Dead and parched grasses eventually gave away to reddened dust and sand, mountains came ever closer and the terrain became steeper as he made his way into the muggy highlands.

He trotted along, blissfully unaware of his surroundings. Dust kicked up and clung to his rusty armor, giving it an even more aged look. He kept on trotting, going nowhere yet everywhere, zig-zagging through the patches of desert brush and scrubs, circling around boulders and rocks, growing ever closer to the lonely mountains. By evening he had reach them, optics staring up in wonder at the dead rocks, stripped of their trees and plants. Between two peaks was a pass, a worn, thin path between them. Locking onto the road, he cantered daintily towards it in curiosity.

As he cantered towards the pass, a rock suddenly chipped down the mountain, catching his attention. He curved his ears and watched as the small rock bounced and rolled down the mountain, causing more rocks to fall with it. The source of the slide appeared to be a large boulder, or something behind it which glinted brightly. He called up to the thing, which did not respond. As the small rock slide came to a halt at the base of the mountain, he braved a trek up the side, his hooves slipping and sinking into the face of rubble that covered the side of the peak.

As he drew closer, he saw movement and halted, slightly sideways but facing uphill. He was breathing hard from the short climb, but his curiosity nagged at him. About to call out again, he opened his mouth, but something shot out from behind the boulder, and with a scream of surprise and terror, Cogs rolled and crashed down the face of the mountain, his legs entangled in some sort of web. He flailed and kicked in fear but still the roped tangled around him, and as he came to rest at the bottom, he struggled to stand, but was unable. Left heaving and confused at the base, he looked around fearfully.

Figures began coming out from behind the boulder, two or three of them. They were jeering and embracing, but their celebration was short as they descended, slip-sliding down the rocks. Cogs recognized them, their species at least. Humans!

With a shocking flood of flashbacks and memory, he remembered. He remembered everything. His whole life, his experiences, his pain and his joy came pouring back. His eyes widened in wonder under his helmet. These humans, they must help him out of this net.

But as they drew closer, he read their rough, chiseled faces. They had no intention of helping. No, they had captured him. But why? All his life, humans had helped him. Why are these so different? “Two-legs, get me out, this moment!” His voice was rough and mechanical, and erupted from his throat in a demanding tone. The three humans appeared shocked, stopping at the base of the mountain, and began loudly speaking to one another, but Cogs could not understand them. One seemed angrier than the rest, and pulled an item out of the other’s paw, advancing towards the downed gelding, who snarled and growled in a fight to get up, sensing danger.

The human was drawing closer, his eyes glinted with some sort of evil, as Cogs had never seen before. The gelding was confused above all else, and his heart thundered wildly in his metal chest. The man's long black jacket billowed in the slight wind as he came closer, with long, determined steps. He was still holding that strange item. Something longish, something black… something…

A gun. The man had some sort of gun.

Flashbacks from his war days came back to him, and he roared in defiance, struggling even more. The humans laughed and jeered, but were silenced by the one holding the object. He pointed it at Cog’s head, and he froze with fear, for there was no escape. His wide eyes stared up at his captor. Confusion, anger and fear welled in him. The other two humans stood away now, waiting, with their predatory eyes fixed on the helpless horse. Once more he opened his maw with a creak, and began letting out a roar when the human pulled the trigger. Cogs felt a horrible pain in his head, and felt hot blood well up in his helmet and trickle out the bullet hole, staining his scarred face beneath.

Thrashing wildly and convulsing, Cogs began to go into shock. The men began to panic, and loading another bullet into the chamber, the firearm fired again. Cogs felt no more, his body now still. The man who had shot Cogs called something on a walkie-talkie to more men somewhere in the mountain pass. All three untangled the small horse from the net, removed the clamps from his body and looked him over in wonder and curiosity. A truck rolled up soon after, the driver yelling feverishly. Hooking a cable to Cogs’ back leg and connecting it to the truck, they set off, pulling the gelding behind them, and then the pass was silent and still once more.

“WE ARE NEVER GOING TO FIND HIM OUT HERE.” Steampunk growled to himself as he, accompanied by Rayzorblade and a young stallion named Selach landed with a trio of thuds after they leaped the boundary wall. The highlands stretched out before them, dusty and dry in every direction. Saddened mountains hovered over the horizon, and with a sigh and a lurch, Steampunk burst into a long gallop. Selach and Rayzorblade quickly followed their leader, and the thunder of hooves was soon echoing across the flat land. But their thunder was soon stolen by the sound of whirring overhead as the helicopter passed them, sending dirt and debris into a dust devil.

Slowing to a trot, the three watched as the copter made a bee line straight for the mountains. Seeing as the humans had that area under control, Steampunk began to look for tracks, barking at the others to do so as well. In the distance, of both the east and west, he could see the other fera, or what animals called each other, searching as well. Despite what humans thought, animals could understand one another vaguely in the animal kingdom, and each had a precise language. However, with the aid of man and his technology, now every fera could understand one another almost perfectly, within the facility anyway.

Selach, a tall palomino, whose body was covered in a thin silicone-like material save for his head and legs, suddenly whinnied at Steampunk. He threw his head up as he called for his leader, the only scrap of mane visible—his forelock—billowing in the wind. “Sir, I’ve found tracks!” Steampunk wheeled and came over, looking down at the winding trail of hoofprints that skirted brush and boulder. “Good, Selach.” Steampunk said gruffly, setting off at a canter, following the tracks. Rayzorblade gave the younger stallion a sort of smile, and the young palomino felt proud, for it was hard to garner a compliment of any kind from the gruff infantry captain.

A few times, the trail was lost, and each time the three had to halt and search the area, looking for any sign of tracks. During one of these episodes, Steampunk’s ear crackled, and he could hear a human speaking. He hated the ‘radio’, as the men called it. It was loud, and pierced his ears painfully. Plus, he had to concentrate hard to both understand the men and to respond in the strange, flowing language of man. “Steampunk? Tracks, by the mountain. Blood too. Go quickly!” The radio fizzled and crackled, irritating his ears. “Ey…Yes.” Steampunk rolled his tongue, saying the word and sounding like he had never said it before, even though he had spoken it many times. It was better to play stupid with man, he had decided. Humans began to get suspicious if one got too knowledgeable.

As the other two horses heard the strange word come from Steampunk’s maw, their noses lifted from the dust and they immediately knew he was speaking to a man. Without a word, all three set off at a dead run towards the mountain. Around them, in the distance, they could see the other fera running as well. They must have gotten the message, too. However, the horses reached the mountain scene first, and their nostrils flared and ears flicked when they came upon the spectacle.

It was obvious that there was a struggle. Loose rocks had showered from the mountain and lay strewn across the dust, which was tussled up and had indentations of where a body had thrashed. An imprint of a net was noticed as well my Selach, and tire tracks to the right near the pass. “Man’s work,” Steampunk hissed, leaning down to inspect the earth. Below his nose was a splatter of blood, which was nearly dry, but the wet area was flecked with dust. “This happened early this morning.” Steampunk concluded, looking in the direction of the pass. He was about to go to it when the helicopter suddenly surged over the mountain again. The huge craft hovered, and a rope was flung from the gap in the side, and two men began to descend.

The other fera were beginning to appear, their sides heaving. First were the deer, then the dogs. Others began to come in as the men’s booths touched the dust. They wore what they always wore around the infected fera; black clothing, thick boots, and a strange combination of a mask and a helmet. Gripped tightly in their strange paws were long, menacing rifles. The men appeared to pay the animals no mind, inspecting the ground and coming to their own conclusions. “It appears that Cogs has been kidnapped,” one human yelled to the other, pointing to the tire tracks and the impression on the ground. The other was heading for the mountain pass.

“No,” Steampunk yelled, the strange man-language coming out of his mouth. “Cogs is--“ but it suddenly hit him that the human had only glanced at him. Anger swelled in his chest, and he stomped the earth, sending dust everywhere. Still the human paid him no mind. With that, Steampunk lurched forward, causing the human to let out some sort of muffled yell and spring back. The fera gasped; harming a man could mean death. Steampunk knew this, and only buffeted the man with his great head, catching him off guard and sending him sprawling. The other man yelled, raising his weapon in preparation to fire if needed. Steampunk merely ignored him; bullets could not pierce his armor.

Below him, between his front legs the man stared wide-eyed up at him, his gun flung a few feet to the left. Steampunk’s bottled anger at always being treated like a stupid beast suddenly came flooding out in his own language as he roared down at the man, who attempted to escape but decided against it when the yelling stallion raised a steel hoof. As the huffing stallion calmed, he cleared his throat and opened his sharp-toothed mouth. “Cogs is dead.” He said slowly to the human, as if the human were a stupid beast. “Shot in the head.” Steampunk continued, letting the astonished man get up. Ah. This must be one of the new recruits, Steampunk thought, and smirked to himself beneath his helmet. This young human must not have been told that fera could talk.

The other man ran up and angrily grabbed the younger by the shoulder, yelling loudly at him in front of the tall metal stallion, who only lopped his ears in disinterest. With that, the men ran towards the pass, followed by Romulus, Steampunk, and the leader of the dog pack, Bruiser. The three captains looked at the ground between the thin walls, which reared up high above them. The pass stretched on for half a mile, but at its end there was only disappointment. The tracks had been wiped away by a sandstorm. The elder man swore angrily and turned around to head back into the pass. Steampunk recognized the voice; it was a man who often did repairs on armor and was known to be ornery and vulgar. He also appeared to believe that animals would always be for the purpose of serving man, and the next action he performed showed that.

He walked up to the great and powerful Steampunk, grabbed the small patch of mane at his withers, and swung onto the stallion’s back. Anger once again swelled in him, and his muscles bunched to buck. However, he thought of something better to do later. So he merely turned around and began trotting down the pass as if the human were not even there. Romulus, Bruiser, and the younger human were dumbstruck, but followed without a word. When they once again reached the end of the pass, all fera and men were also in disbelief. The helicopter had landed some ways away, and the rest of the men were inspecting the earth. Steampunk halted as if to let the man off his back, but just as he leaned forward to do so, Steampunk rocketed into the air, and the man yelped loudly as Steampunk spun mid-air, landing hard on his front feet. As his back hooves touched earth, he kicked off in a mighty buck, and with a yell the man flew from his back and into the dust. Snorting, Steampunk called his team over and they began to head back to base. The fera cheered in glee, throwing their heads or barking in amusement as the man, unharmed but his pride wounded, picked himself from the dust, having landed dangerously close to a pile of droppings.

Nothing more could be done for Cogs. Steampunk had smelled death in the pass, but he knew the humans do not let such things go easily and a search party would be conducted. In the meantime, however, Steampunk’s body ached and his stomach growled loudly as the large herd of fera trudged back to camp.

Продолжить редактирование после сохранения

Имя этого сайта на английском, маленькие буквы Пожалуйста, оставьте это поле пустым:

Сводка изменений

Примечание: редактируя эту страницу, вы соглашаетесь на использование своего вклада на условиях следующей лицензии: CC Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 4.0 International