One Crazy Machine (Apocalypse Paused Book 9) Read online

  One Crazy Machine

  Apocalypse Paused™ Book 9

  Michael Todd

  Michael Anderle

  One Crazy Machine (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2019 Michael Todd, and Michael Anderle

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, April 2019

  The Zoo Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2018-19 by Michael Anderle and LMBPN Publishing.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Connect with Michael Todd and The Zoo

  Other Zoo Books

  Books written as Michael Anderle

  One Crazy Machine Team

  JIT Readers

  John Ashmore

  Dorothy Lloyd

  Kelly O’Donnell

  Jeff Eaton

  Peter Manis

  Paul Westman

  Micky Cocker

  Editor

  The Skyhunter Editing Team

  Dedication

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  to Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  to Live the Life We Are

  Called.

  Prologue

  Scottsdale looked around, desperate to buy time. He needed something—anything—to provide another minute to keep his chances alive. His bleak options remained the same as before. The desert stretched in all directions with nothing to break the monotony of the landscape except their insignificant little firebase. And, after a week out there, miles from the modern luxuries of Wall Two and equally as far from the unnatural horrors of the Zoo, he couldn’t pretend interest in his surroundings any longer.

  Not that they’d been impressive when he’d arrived there. A tanker glared so brightly in the Saharan sun that he could hardly look at it, a few dusty tents sprawled in a semblance of a camp, and a couple of mounted flamethrowers—these paltry indications of human habitation did not inspire enthusiasm. All that hardly counted for a distraction, which really was what he needed.

  Although, on the horizon, a faint trail of dust that hadn’t been there before might have potential. It spoke to Scottsdale’s boredom that it intrigued him. He’d signed up for action, though, not to develop an appreciation for the subtlety of a single shifting cloud.

  “Time is of the essence, Scottsdale,” Nguyen said and tapped his cards against the folding table.

  Scottsdale stretched and glanced at the other players. Despite having folded, Remus and Pullpunch stared at him like vultures waiting for the hyenas to finish. Apparently, the full house he had in his hand really was the most interesting thing around for miles.

  “I’ll raise.”

  “Raise what?” Pullpunch asked despite the fact that she wasn’t currently playing. Why she was called Pullpunch and not Always-In-Your-Business was beyond his comprehension, but he’d grown to accept it. “Your broke ass doesn’t have any money, and you already future-traded all your beer to Remus.”

  “I’ll be drinking like a fish for a week.”

  “It’s a month’s worth of booze, you alcoholic. Have you heard of liver poisoning? Or maybe liver cancer is more your thing?” Pullpunch asked. Maybe that was why she was called Pullpunch, because she never did.

  Remus shrugged. “Pickling my liver sounds better than dying from boredom while waiting for Scottsdale to play the damn game.”

  “All right, all right, all right. I’ll, uh…if you win, I’ll work your next two watches.”

  “No dice,” Nguyen said. “Walking watch is the only thing worth doing out here. It gives me a real reason to stretch my legs.”

  “Then what do you want?” Scottsdale regretted the question as soon as he’d asked it. He really was lousy at poker. Why couldn’t they play something straightforward like Settlers of Catan?

  “I want that nudy-mag.”

  “What? But you’re gay.”

  The man shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy watching a straight man suffer from lack of imagination.”

  “Fine. Fine!” Scottsdale regretted it already. The man would probably only use the damn magazine to preach about sexual stereotypes or some shit.

  “Nguyen?” Pullpunch said.

  “Yeah, yeah, I check.”

  “With what, asshole?” Scottsdale snapped. “Do you know how much a nudy-mag is worth to a man who suffers from a lack of imagination?”

  “I just got a care package from back home.”

  “So what? I couldn’t care less about a box of Vietnamese food. What the hell will I do with a stash of dried fish and pickled garlic?”

  “I’m from Houston, asshole. And there’s a jar of peanut butter in that box. Organic. None of that hydrogenated oil crap. Extra crunchy. I’ll even toss in a chocolate bar. I’m talking sixty percent dark with almonds. And you should know better. I wouldn’t trade my pickled garlic for some stupid magazine.”

  Scottsdale swallowed and glanced at his full house again. Nguyen couldn’t beat that, right? And peanut butter…real peanut butter… He leaned back and once again tried to buy more time to think. What actually beat a full house? Not much. A straight flush, obviously, and…was that it? “Hey. Hey, guys, is that a storm?”

  “Not this shit again, Scottsdale. What was it last time? A meteor shower?”

  “No, I’m serious.”

  At that moment, a giant, blue flightless bird with too many eyes and the curling horns of a ram ran through the camp. Its tail twitched behind it as it kicked up a huge cloud of dust.

  “Okay…” Scottsdale said and resisted the urge to pinch himself. “Did anyone else see that or have I finally lost my mind from boredom?”

  “That was a chimera.” Remus scrambled for a flamethrower but before he made it five paces, another of the birds rammed into him with its curled horns. He tumbled through the sand and clutched at his ribs. “Yeah…that was a chimera,” he wheezed. “But the fucking bastards have grown some since last I saw them.”

  The creature screeched, and others joined the call. Scottsdale couldn’t be sure how many, not in the thickening cloud of dust. Ten? Fifty? A hundred?

  “Stations people!” Nguyen commanded and scrambled
aside as one of the unexpectedly large chimeras smashed through the card table and spilled the pot of poker chips everywhere. A small blessing, Scottsdale thought. But before Nguyen could make it to the closest flamethrower, one of the birds knocked the weapon over with its horns and proceeded to shred it with its powerful clawed feet.

  “It knows that’s a flamethrower? These things are supposed to be smaller and as thick as a brick.” Pullpunch scrambled to retrieve a second weapon but another chimera had already toppled that one too. The creature lowered its head and screeched at Pullpunch as if it dared her to run past it. When she hesitated, it proceeded to crush and rent the flamethrower with vicious efficiency.

  More of the monsters sprinted through the tents, shredded them, and destroyed everything inside, including Scottsdale’s nudy-mag. Pages of women in various states of undress joined the cloud of dust that now obscured the firebase.

  “You bastards did that on purpose.” Scottsdale made it to the rack of assault rifles, snatched the first in line, and checked the mag. “This is for Jessica.” He released a barrage into the damn beasts as pictures of Jessica—page seventeen, who also loved Settlers of Catan—fluttered in all her nudity in a cloud of dust.

  He spun to face the tanker filled with fuel when a pounding, banging sound triggered a mental alarm. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”

  “Get clear! I don’t want anyone getting that crap on them,” Nguyen shouted. He too had reached their weapons cache and armed himself with an assault rifle. His expression grim, he fired at the chimeras, but the freaky blue goat-headed birds immediately vanished into the swirling dust at the sound of the rifle fire.

  Those attacking the tanker didn’t flee, though. Instead, the noisy assault grew louder before it joined with a gushing sound as the fuel spilled into the desert.

  “Bastards!” Nguyen shouted and fired at the now retreating chimeras with little effect until they vanished.

  “Should we pursue them, sir?” Pullpunch asked and glanced at Remus, who groaned. The man was alive, then, but badly hurt.

  “Can we?” Nguyen responded.

  Scottsdale was already at their vehicle. “No, sir, the JLTV is damaged too. They managed to slash three of the tires and bashed the hell out of the hood. The engine’s ruined. Fucking animals.”

  “Anything but,” Nguyen said and glared at the cloud of dust that was now the only evidence of the creatures’ retreat.

  “Wait, isn’t the Zoo the other way?” Scottsdale asked, his attention also focused on the slowly-moving swirl of dust.

  “Well, I’ll be… Scottsdale actually noticed something before I did.” Pullpunch smiled a little too sweetly.

  “Get me the damn radio—unless those chimeras smashed that too. They’re headed for Wall Two.” Nguyen’s face mirrored the alarm they all felt. In the past the chimeras had been more a nuisance factor in the Zoo hierarchy. Now, however, they had morphed into a canny, aggressive creature considerably larger than the original. And they seemed hell-bent on taking out anything in their path—including the damn wall.

  Chapter One

  “Do you guys want to play cards or something?” Ava asked and earned only a scowl from Peppy and a shrug from Gunnar.

  “It’s kind of a waste of time, isn’t it? What’s the point of making a couple of extra bucks if we’re stuck out here without anywhere to spend it?” Gunnar focused on the entrance to the hangar they were in. It was built into Wall Two like everything else, with a massive reinforced door that faced the Zoo and flimsier doors on the opposite side. His gaze hadn’t left the entrance to the outside world since they’d arrived there to meet Manny.

  “And there’s always the chance that the Zoo will have another Surge and we’ll all be swallowed and murdered, thus making our last moments on earth wasted on a stupid card game.” Peppy cracked her knuckles and adjusted her aviator sunglasses. For someone who could face anything the Zoo dared to throw at her, Peppy could be a real downer.

  “Ok, jeez. I was only asking.” Ava and her friends had been grounded at Wall Two since their last mission into the Zoo when they’d saved Dr. Kessler from being digested—he had already been swallowed—by a giant constrictadile and losing his mind to a patch of zomberries. She had enjoyed their first few days of rest and recuperation, but compared to being in the Zoo, sitting a few miles from it and protected by the world’s most cutting-edge tech was downright boring.

  Not that she had done nothing. She’d read up on the Zoo, as always, and had gone to the shooting range with Peppy. But still, compared to the adrenaline-fueled Zoo missions, it wasn’t even remotely exciting. More than once, she’d wished Manny was around more to give her additional flying lessons, but he’d been noticeably absent and busy with some secret project. Whenever she’d asked about it, he’d simply answered by way of waggling eyebrows.

  “We could go to the shooting range,” Peppy said. For her, that practically counted as an invitation to her baby shower.

  “No. We should wait. Manny said—”

  The Australian pilot chose that moment to jog in through the entrance that faced away from the zoo, grinning like a fool. “Did I ever tell you dickheads about Christmas down under?”

  “Is that when you all take presents out of a kangaroo’s pouch and call your friends horribly offensive curse words?” Gunnar snarked.

  “I didn’t call you mate, mate, because you’re my friend and not an asshole. There’s no need to be so sensitive about me being polite, but I’ll be sure to fix my language for your poor American ears, mate. And that kangaroo thing only happened to me once. It was rather a disappointment, to be honest, as I only got a pair of socks and they were soaked with kangaroo milk. That smell never comes out.”

  Manny’s big arms and broad face were covered in grease and his shirt a mess. His slightly crooked grin glowed through the grime.

  “What were you working on?” Ava said.

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s like Christmas, right? Like everyone’s stayed up late to see what kind of meat ol’ Father Christmas will bring. Everyone sharpening knives to be ready for the battle for the first bite. Oh, it makes me want to fire up a barbie even thinking about it.” He hopped from one foot to the other, obviously excited.

  “Are you saying you got us a present?” Gunnar looked skeptical. “Because I hate to play favorites, but Dr. Kessler’s new and improved mecha-soldier suit will be a hard gift to top. It’s like the PlayStation of Christmas gifts for a lead-head like myself. Some homemade batch of burnt cookies simply won’t compare.”

  “What I got will make your little soldier suit look like a wind-up toy. One of the new plastic ones that break all the damn time.”

  “So where’s the Christmas gift?” Ava put her hands on her hips.

  “Uh…the other thing about Christmas is that it never comes soon enough, you know?”

  “So you told us all to meet you here only so you could tell us that your stupid project still isn’t ready?” Peppy said.

  “It would have been ready…but then I got distracted—arm-wrestling contest, you know. Some of these damn soldiers didn’t believe me that I’d beaten a rhinoceros in a test of strength, so I had to show them what was what.”

  “Did you win?” Ava asked. Despite knowing Manny well enough, she still sometimes asked him questions she knew she shouldn’t.

  “Nah. The blokes didn’t want to go nose to nose. They got all homophobic about it.”

  “Your vocabulary is improving,” a new voice interjected. Dr. Kessler stood framed in the doorway.

  Peppy scowled at him.

  “So’s your sneaking up ability, Doc. At this rate, you won’t be surprised by a berry next time you go into the Zoo,” Manny said.

  “Now, hey, ease up on that,” Gunnar said. He stood and rubbed his hands together like a kid trying to please the owner of a candy shop. “Dr. Kessler is an asset to our, uh…operation. He er…singlehandedly led a group of soldiers to the constrictadile, and without his help,
we wouldn’t…um—”

  “No need to ingratiate yourself.” The scientist cut him off curtly. “We both know I’m here for a reason, and it’s definitely not a conversation with unimaginative soldiers hell-bent on bragging as implausibly as possible.”

  “I’ll have you know my bragging is almost eighty-five percent plausible,” the pilot protested.

  “Oh, thank God,” Gunnar said, ignored Manny, and released the breath he’d held. “What are the new features?”

  “The controls should be more intuitive. That’s mostly what I would like a report on. I’ve added light armor as well, although there are still gaps—especially near the joints, so mind those don’t get snagged.”

  “Are you saying my robot’s elbow might get stuck to its knee cap?”

  “Nothing about my design is yours. The patents belong to me and the research is funded by the military. You’re merely the most convenient drone available at the moment.”

  “We’re all tax-payers, asshole. That means we own your little toys as much as the American citizen owns us,” Peppy said

  “Mmm…which is to say not at all unless you truly believe the American people were the ones who orchestrated this entire operation.” Kessler appraised them and glared as he always did. “I didn’t think so. However, if you continue to be insolent, I’ll find a team with a more respectful demeanor toward a man of science.”