The forest was molten fire. It burned thick and hot, black smoke belching into dark skies. Waves of visible heat warbled. The translucent heat consumed the collapsing wooden building within the outskirts of MannWorks. Only brick foundations remained. Men ran in panic, rushing through the engulfed forest like wild creatures. At their heels were metallic huntsmen. They crushed young sprouts under steel feet, taking the lives of the humans fleeing in terror. The Engineer knew he was good as dead. He wasn't as slow as some of his teammates, but he didn't have the legs to run for long. All he could do to outwit his pursuers was to drop sentries behind him. His creations didn't stand long before the robots on his tail. When trees cracked in half behind him, he was certain of his fate. Men screamed throughout the forest. The Scout's shrill death cry pierced his mind. If that little terror couldn't outrun the tide— Too many thoughts snarled in the Engineer's head. What was the point of running? Wouldn't one death restore him to the safety of a new base? Why couldn't he lie down and die? One thought more horrible than any of them struck him in the heart. What if Gray Mann didn't kill him? His pulsed raced faster as he dove beneath fallen trunk. No. He couldn't surrender. No deaths, no murders, no prisons. He had to get away. He winced as he caught the sentry far behind him squeal. A gigantic robotic Heavy had stomped the small machine into the ground. A gasp escaped him. The turbulent, burning wind rushed over the monster, bathing it in sheets of flame. It didn't so much as flinch. Why would it? It didn't have to breath the toxic fumes in the air. Fire didn't burn its steel skin. It plodded forward, ripping the forest apart as it went. A new pain took the Engineer's breath away. His ankle slipped below him. He landed face-first on the ground. He growled, then pulled his legs up. His eyes widened. There was a steep drop in the forest floor as grass spilled over a ridge. He vaulted down it, rolling and landing on his back. The fall wasn't fatal, but it strung. He got onto his feet, his uniform tearing on the root of an old tree. His wound burned in the smoky air. Bullets chewed up the ground. The Engineer bolted behind more trees. It wasn't much defense. Oaks groaned as the robot's rounds burst through centuries-old trunks. His legs ached, his pace slowing despite his protesting brain. He shook his head, pulling himself forward with his hands. He couldn't stop. Cold salvation was just a few meters away. A stream through the ground. If he could get into it, he could dive below the surface and swim his way out. It wasn't faster than running, but it offered a unique advantage. The Engineer had never seen any of Gray Mann's machines enter any source of water. Perhaps they weren't waterproof. If he could get out of the range of their bullets, he could swim to safety. Wherever that was. The Engineer's body stumbled forward. He cursed his failing muscles. A thunderous crunch behind him broke his resolve. The gargantuan Heavy robot was closing in on him. Hot terror rushed across his face. Steam beaded on his goggles. His fate was at the end of that spinning barrel, the one that had cut down trees many times older than he would ever be. Whether that meant bullets or chains, he couldn't guess. Earth couldn't stand before the metal that damned him. But flesh did. A bloodied hand grabbed his left hand. It was hot and slick, hurt the same as his arm. The warm pain that reached for him caught the Engineer's attention. Eyes as cold and blue as arctic ice were staring at him through broken sunglasses. The Engineer's stomach clenched, but his lips drew into a wide grin. His legs burned, but he ran. Short and long strides rushed together. Before he had sense in his head, water rose up his overalls. The man at his side slipped below the surface of the stream. The Engineer dove as well, strong arms catching up to swift legs. The stream was as dark and obscured as the rest of the forest. The Engineer's goggles kept his eyes clear. He kept them focus on his teammate—the last one he knew he had—swimming before him in long strokes. He bobbed above the surface for air, then dove once more. The Engineer followed his smooth movements. They kept in stride, bullets streaking above them as fish fled in terror below their bellies. The stream became deeper and longer. His teammate faltered beneath the water. He couldn't see far into the black water. The Engineer caught up to him, then grabbed his right hand. White teeth flashed in the darkness. Had it been anyone else, the Engineer would have wondered if he was looking at the teeth of a demon. He grinned back. Both madmen had a reason to swim faster. Hell washed away. Fresh water turned salty. The types of fish changed. So much debris flowed downstream. Hunks of downed trees and metallic panels served as life rafts. The Engineer and the Sniper held together. It wasn't until they were free from the hot winds and black forest that they dared leave the safe veil of the water. A cry escaped the Sniper. The Engineer whooped as well. The two men threw arms around each other's necks. Whatever sounds they made were something between fear and joy. They had lost so much. They were still in incredible danger, as long as they were separated from their missing teammates. More than anything, they were so damned happy to be alive. "I thought we were gonna burn to death," the Sniper panted. The Engineer laughed. "I don't know how we didn't drown." The night sky sent a shiver between the two of them. It seemed impossibly bright compared to the blackness of the burning forest. The moon hung full and heavy over them. White stars glittered over the silver sea, the Milky Way smeared over the forest and a nearby city. The Engineer stood up first, then took the buckling Sniper and pulled him onto his feet. If there was safety, it was in its orange glow. Like wind-whipped moths, the duo followed the luring light of the city. It brought them through white beaches and black streets. Cars and vans rushed past them, fire-trucks and helicopters racing towards the source of the fire. The Engineer raised his head, more dark thoughts taking hold in his brain. Were all the robots still in the fire? What if they hurt someone else? The Sniper straightened his back. "Truckie?" "Just worried," the Engineer replied. "It's…" The Sniper couldn't find the thoughts needed to finish that sentence. He trailed off. "We've gotta call Helen. Or Miss Paulin'." The Engineer agreed. "Right. Gotta tell them we failed." "'N find the others," the Sniper added. "Yeah," the Engineer murmured. "The others…" His thoughts consumed him as the duo made it to the outskirts of the city. A ramshackle trucker's motel was their fortress for the evening. As the Sniper led him towards the squat, peeling complex, the Engineer lost control of his concentration. Had they left anyone behind? Did anyone else make it? What would happen to those they lost? If anyone gave them awkward looks as they entered the motel, the Engineer didn't notice. The Sniper made arrangements for the evening while the Engineer stewed. Where did his teammates go? The nearest base? Was it robot free, or had Gray Mann seized control over it? What if the Administrator or Miss Pauling were in danger? He felt himself sinking beneath a tide he couldn't control. A warm hand rescued him again. The Sniper tugged the Engineer towards their room. He wandered in a dizzy stupor. His legs had burned so badly that now, when they were hardly moving, he couldn't feel them. He floated into the room, landing in a heap just behind the door. When the Sniper snapped the locks shut, his brain went dull and silent. "Ya okay?" the Sniper asked the Engineer. The Engineer swallowed. "We're safe." The Sniper nodded. "For now. I expect we'll have a rough day tomorrow, though." All the plotting, planning, and fretting disappeared from the Engineer's mind. At that moment—that instant—the threats of death and confinement were far away. He was worn down, but so was his teammate. His teammate. The man in his garage, the man in his van. His. A new enthusiasm burned in his core. He looked to the scratched, torn hands that had caught and saved him. He couldn't put out any other fires but the ones in his grasp. "Thank ya fer savin' my neck," the Engineer said. "Glad to have ya with me," the Sniper replied. He tipped his head. "Are ya sure you're okay? Need a drink?" The Engineer took the Sniper's hands. His thoughts snarled again. He needed a lot of things at that moment. Whatever he required was meaningless compared to the warmth that he held. His gut burned with a churning fire. Water couldn't quench it. He smiled. When his grin was echoed, the Engineer's skin went hot. Searing, mindless fervor consumed him.
I don't know if this is a one-shot or the start of something more, but it was great.
I was about to ask if this was a one-shot, too. It feels complete enough to be one, but it also has so much potential to go somewhere. Plus I'm not ready for it to be over. It's a fucking good story.
This is what I like to see here. Your stories always make me feel warm and fuzzy, which is something I desperately need these days.
Maybe I'm biased because you wrote this for my birthday, but I think it's just wonderful.