By David C. Daoust
Charles the First felt fairly useless in the passenger seat of the boxy brown vehicle that the tall balding lawman of Grady, Sheriff Dunn, was navigating through the onslaught of chaos that was their current situation. The small vehicle had spun about so much that Charles was no longer sure which direction they were facing. The swarm of Battle Drones seemed to be coming from every direction, and the missiles… The explosions seemed endless; his heart was racing.
Sand was everywhere, kicked up through the air, directly into Charles’ eye. He shoved his face in the nook of his arm as he tried to rub the stinging menace free from his now watering eyes.
Charles had just managed to clear his vision, when he noticed the massive shadow blot out the skies above. He spun in his seat, only to find the sandcrawler bearing down on them. His racing heart jumped in his throat as he slapped the dash in front of him, repeatedly. “Go, go,” was all Charles managed to get out as he indicated the looming threat behind them.
His grandfather spun about to see what he was looking at, let out a ‘woohoo!’ as the old man caught sight of the oversized vehicle.
The sheriff himself seemed to catch a glimpse of it in his rearview, then gunned the accelerator. The lawman pulled out wide, and they got a better look as the sheriff guided them out of the massive vehicle’s current path.
The wide, oversized vehicle absolutely towered over them. Its russet plating was dark in the given light, obscured not only by the thick torrent of sands that swirled around them, but by trails of smoke from the previous explosions. High above, jutting from the topmost tier of the roving structure, was the yellow sheen of the windshield that wrapped all the way around the vehicle’s small bridge. It almost appeared like a crazed grin from Charles current angle.
The Crawler turned towards them again! Charles got the distinct impression that the driver of the Sandcrawler, whoever he may be, was trying to run them over.
“What is happening?” Charles asked dumbfounded, giving voice to the very thought of each passenger in turn. It seemed the whole world was out to blow them to bits or smash them to smithereens!
The Sandcrawler wasn’t letting up, though Charles did notice that the drones had stopped firing at them– they were now firing at each other!
The battles raged above them as the many Battle Drones seemed to take aim at each other. Missiles, rattling machine guns, sudden blasts of laser zaps, could be heard above as the Spider Drones exploded in midair! This would be okay- well, far better than the war machines firing at them- if it wasn’t for the falling debris of exploding battle drones that came raining down on their heads.
His grandfather, in the backseat, let out a start as one such piece of destroyed machine struck his arm.
“Are you okay?” Charles asked as he positioned his own arm over his head, in a futile attempt to protect himself.
“Fine, fine, just a bruise,” Grandpa Haul assuaged the boy’s worry as he retrieved the chunk of machinery.
The Sandcrawler was still coming straight at them… he knew the sheriff was going as fast as he could, though still, the sandcrawler was on top of them in moments. Charles considered yelling for them all to jump from the vehicle straight off, though knew they’d never clear the width of the massive machine’s girth. Charles’ eyes grew wide as he envisioned his coming end.
Just as it was about to mash them under the wide treads, Charles let out a, “Grandpaaaa!” that could only be considered a plea.
As if in answer Grandpa Haul leapt to action, twisting about he jammed his knee into the backseat of the speeding vehicle as he hurled the chunk of machinery fiercely at the looming threat. It crashed against the plating, left a decent sized scratch, and then fell uselessly into the sands below.
“Great, that’ll help,” the Sheriff muttered sarcastically as he witnessed the old man’s futile assault on the charging colossus.
To everyone’s surprise -it suddenly backed off and pulled to the right, veering off course.
Charles felt a rush of relief as it turned away. He could not help but laugh, and his grandfather let out a guffaw he’d never forget.
“I’m getting us out of here!” the Sheriff yelled as he guided the speeding vehicle away from the Sandcrawler.
Charles had no idea which way, exactly, they were headed, and he doubted the sheriff truly knew either, but anywhere other than under a swarm of exploding machines, was the right direction in Charles’ book.
They had managed to break free of the chaotic battle above them. Many of the hovering battle drones, on the outskirt of the battle, seemed to be watching those within, like spectators. Even as they passed, Charles could not help but hope, they did not suddenly turn and give chase.
The Sheriff was still speeding like a madman when the skies above cleared, and the obscuring sands seemed to vanish from the air around them.
Charles turned in his seat and watched as the swarm grew ever smaller, the further they got from the massive midair battle.
The Sandcrawler appeared to be racing free of the swarm as well, albeit in a completely different direction.
Ratchet was on that vehicle.
Charles had no idea what was going on in there.
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