Chapter 4: The Whirling Dervish
The Voice in the Darkness / Chapter 4 of 5 / Exclusive Paid: Author Notes
This is not the first chapter. Start here
Time slowed for Murph.
He swung the rebar with all his wiry strength at the head of the monster before him. Fear made ice of his veins as acid rain slowed, flashing in the yellow the high spotlights casting deep shadows across the courtyard. The smell of wet garbage awaking in his nose.
What are you doing?
The bar moved as if through treacle. Hot metal popped and groaned as water channels and cooled.
Too slow.
The monster’s head whipped round and the sensor bank where its eyes should have been, flared a warning red. A silent predator’s growl.
But Murph was committed, and he followed through, throwing everything into it. His feet planted in the slick mud and grime.
He had to save her.
The bar stopped.
The monster grinned a lipless rictus at him, the steel bar held firm in its fist. The force of it shot back up the bar into Murph’s shoulder.
And a whirring, buzzing thing slammed his side.
Sprawled on the ground, Murph blinked back the stinging rain and fought to regain his breath. He couldn’t suck in air fast enough. He remembered being stronger than this.
The wind swirled in the small close space, lights flicked off in overhanging hovels. He saw eyes wide like saucers through grubby curtains. Watching, but wanting no part in this.
Fool! You’re no match for a Seeker!
“And who are you?” said the machine-man, stalking toward Murph.
It cocked its head at the rusted steel bar in its hand. The Seeker hefted the bar, taking an end in each hand. Stilling grinned madly at Murph, rain dripping off its face, the blue light reflecting off exposed teeth.
It bent the bar in half.
The bar blurred, then clattered out of sight. Now it moved toward him and barked a laugh as it kicked at Murph’s ribcage. Something snapped and white fire flared in his side.
The carbon steel exoskeleton enhanced the Seeker’s strength, protected the weak human places, and broke Murph’s ribs without much thought.
Murph clawed at the mud, trying to crawl away as blows struck him in every targeted critical place. Finding the organs, the bones, and the joints. The most efficient strikes to render him immobile and useless.
He remembered knowing how to do that.
A kick to the stomach launched him into the air and as he spun by instinct, he reached out to the drones and flung them at the Seeker.
But nothing happened. He wasn’t that.
All you can do now is die.
He landed heavily on his back, something hard and unforgiving dug into his spine. A cry of pain escaped his cracked lips.
He tried to reach for it, but the Seeker kicked him again. It circled, still grinning, flesh tight across its skull, drawing out the fight, a cat playing with a mouse. Relishing the game. Stun and release.
Break bones and watch ’em crawl.
All you can do is die.
“Then dying is what I’ll do,” Murph said feeling the familiar shape pressed against this spine.
The cold, hard metal of the thing he’d put there this morning.
Murph rolled over, and saw the girl still there with the eyes of a deer, rooted by fear. Sucking in air and forcing out one word, he yelled, “Run!”
Her panicked eyes met his, and thank Turing, she listened. She ran.
Half the drones zipping after her, the Seeker’s head whipping toward the direction she’d run. Murph reached behind him and grabbed hold of a handle.
Good.
“A distraction, hmm?”
Murph said nothing, but climbed unsteadily to his feet, his side screaming at him. His lung wasn’t punctured, and he said a small pray for that miracle. Now that she was out of the way, he raised his revolver in a white-knuckled grip.
“Die abomination,” he said, firing.
The first bullet hit a container, the second hit meat. The third and fourth were stopped by drones before they spun off in a shower of sparks and broken motors.
The fifth went straight up as the remaining drones knocked Murph back down, gun skidding across the ground, lost in the debris. He heard shouts of alarm, a wary siren in the distance.
“We don’t need you alive,” said the Seeker, fingering its shoulder. The hand came back red, and it licked the blood from its fingers.
It raised its good arm, an open hand became a fist, which it brought it down in a smashing gesture.
Murph looked up as the hornet swarm of drones rose, grouped tight together and dived towards him.
Now you die.
Again instinct stirred, and he tried to swipe them away.
Time slowed again for Murph, his thoughts tragically clear.
He’d failed. Thrown his life away for a moment’s distraction. He hadn’t saved her. He’d be dead, and she’d be caught.
He closed his eyes and swiped both arms at the drones.
The drones smashed, metal screaming and motors dying in the mud.
Then silence.
< That was for the girl. >
The drones lay scattered pieces in muddy furrows on either side of him.
They’d missed him!
He was alive, save for a new sharp pain. He was unharmed.
And alive!
His shaking hand found blood and a jagged piece of shrapnel. A shard of a Blue Nile drone stuck out of his leg.
The Seeker roared and rushed toward him.
Through the blood loss and pain, recognition flashed like a bolt of lightning. The sky flickered, and the rain fell.
But he knew.
Murph made a sharp cutting motion. A blade slicing.
The Seeker fell.
Forward momentum made it crash on top of Murph, its body locked. The human part of it screamed, trying to bite at Murph and writhing in an inactive power frame.
Trapped.
Murph heaved it off him and vomited from the strain. He pulled himself free and lay panting, rain falling into his eyes and mouth. Stinging.
He was alive!
On the floor next to him, the Seeker continued to wrestle and break free.
It moaned and keened, an animal howl rising in the sudden hush.
No more motors whirred. Just the soft patter of rain falling on two bodies lying in the dirt. One frozen and furious, the other broken and smiling.
Heavy footsteps squelched behind him. Murph couldn’t fight another. There was nothing left in him. Nothing left to give. Nothing more to take.
But he’d done it.
His vision faded as strong hands dragged him into a complete and enveloping darkness.
Final chapter is out next week
{ Read the final Chapter }
Author’s Notes
A behind the scenes look at how I make stories like this.
Actionable shortcuts, lessons, AI prompts and insights from my readers.
Paid subscribers only.
They follow my version of the Writer’s Journey:
Psychology: simple mindset magic
Production: consistently writing high quality stories
Presentation: making things pretty and professional
Promotion: growing a subscription community
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to The Reader Experience to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.