Saturday, April 24, 2010

Self Service

Self Service
Word Count: 390
By Scott Wilson
Bruce tinkered with the circuitry in his left leg, pulling at the frayed and spilt wires recently severed by the attack. He was pretty sure that he would be capable of repairing the electrics, but he didn’t know if the bio casing would repair itself this time. Even the life sustaining plasma was beginning to lose its bright red colour and looking more and more like pink lemonade than blood. After splicing the wires and pulling the flesh back over to cover his internals as best he could, Bruce used his rifle as a crutch and stood up. He flinched as a sharp pain shot up his leg.
“Looks like the pain circuits are back online,” he said to himself.
Jake, his dog, barked in an uneven and screeching tone. Bruce looked down and frowned. Jake was in worse shape than he was, what with two uneven pieces of metal for the legs on his right side and an almost flat battery cell, Bruce didn’t know how much longer his companion would be around to keep him company.
“Yeh, Jake. Good as new.”
Jake jerked his head and licked his metal leg, or would have if his co-ordination and judgment hadn’t missed the mark by a couple of inches.
“Aarf.”
Bruce patted his dog gently on the head.
“Let’s head back home,” Bruce said. “Hey, boy. Might take us the rest of the afternoon. But we should make if before nightfall.”
“A....aarf.” Jake barked, well almost.
Jake nudged Bruce’s leg, almost knocking him over, before hobbling in front to lead the way down the rocky hillside. Bruce winced at the pain, both from putting pressure on his injured leg and at the sight of his sole companion of the last ten years, falling to pieces, just as Bruce was himself.
Halfway down the hill, Bruce stopped to view the disturbing horizon. The sight of the open desert with the Sydney Harbour Bridge protruding from it still upset him, as did the fact he couldn’t travel further in a day, without his power cells running low, to seek out other survivors.
“Back home in another five hundred yards, boy,” he said, but Jake had stopped moving, his cells finally gave up.

THE END

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