Cottontail Chapter 5 (Patreon)

Gosh. Writing has been a challenge recently. I keep adhd hopping between stories writing like 5 lines and then moving to the next.

As for how my RL situation is going... it's stressful. Girlfriends are rushing to get to NZ as soon as possible, I'm negotiating with my landlord for more time, and I'm trying to find a place for us to live once they are here. Thanks so much to those who sent money to my paypal too! I really appreciate it. My paypal is Amelialesbun@gmail.com btw, but please please please don't send money unless you can afford it or whatever. God I feel anxious just posting that. Thanks mum, really needed trauma around asking for financial help. Anyway sorry for the rambling, please enjoy the chapter!

What we did next was make sure the coast was clear around the shelter, then we all jumped in the trucks and headed for the cattle ranching station that initially put out the distress call. Unfortunately, my van was busted beyond repair, so I was forced to ride in Chazza’s passenger seat.

“So, what are you going to tell your friends?” he asked me as we bumped down the road.

His question struck me with the most unexpected bolt of lightning, and I stared at him in shock. I did actually have friends, or at least I used to. My job made it exceptionally difficult to have a social life, and so after countless times when I had to turn down invitations, they stopped inviting me to stuff.

“Honestly,” I said after a few moments of thought. “I have no idea. You can probably imagine how hard it is to stay in touch with people while we drive all over the outback. I don’t even know if we’re actually friends anymore.”

“Oath, dude,” Chazza agreed with a bitter laugh. “Between the company scrip forcing me to only use AusExpress stores, and the long hours with no downtime leeway, I definitely get you. Hell, I haven’t seen my folks in four months. Just send me mum the corp stipend each month and video chat her when I can.”

I winced. “Man, why does life suck so hard?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged, then threw me a smile. “I gotta say though, it ain’t all bad. Like, you’re a fuckin’ samurai now, and I was there to see you become one! Not many get to see that, hey?”

His little pep talk had me reevaluating the man. At first I’d thought he was just a cool dude who’d make a solid friend and a fun drinking partner, but it seemed like he had a lot more emotional intelligence than I’d expected. Was that prejudiced of me?

“Thanks, dude,” I said, and patted my new gun. “I guess I do have this baby now.”

Rather than reply verbally, he just gave me a friendly nod and kept his eyes on the road.

When Bonney Downs cattle station finally came into view, it was clear we were too late. The old cattle station was as much a part of Australian history and culture as the few remaining colonial buildings over on the east coast. Some cattle stations were over two hundred years old, with unbroken family lines owning and working them for their entire lives.

That wasn’t to say the history associated with the stations was necessarily all good history—it was part of colonial history after all—but it was still hard to see that small piece of history laid to ruin like this.

The main station house was a brick building with a porch that ran around the entire house. Its roof was corrugated iron with more rust than iron left, yet somehow it probably still did its job fine. Or at least, it had before tonight. Something big had torn right through the old building, leaving a gaping hole filled with rubble and small flames.

The building itself might’ve been old, but its surroundings were as high tech as it comes. There’d been a period of time a couple dozen decades back where the stations were struggling to make ends meet, but with the advent of the tech boom, all that changed.

A huge steel and concrete warehouse looking building was out beyond the neatly kept garden of the old homestead. Inside it would be an entire “herd” of hanging mindless meat sacks with one job—to make cheap and slightly odd tasting milk for the masses. Then, beyond that nightmare milk factory was a high tech but still recognisable milking shed. Real cows would be brought there once a day to produce milk that was fit for consumption by the ultra wealthy.

All that juicy steak and milk wasn’t without its dangers here in the outback, obviously. Anything with digestive enzymes and an appetite for meat would flock to the station to eat the herd if not for the huge mechanised defence network. A network that appeared to have been torn asunder like a walking steel shredder had been grazing on it.

Robots were sitting in chunks strewn across the ground, turrets had been ripped entirely out of the ground to crash down wherever was convenient, and the few human defenders… Discarded weapons and splatters of blood marked where they’d fallen, but their bodies were gone.

It was pretty obvious where they were now, though. Model eights were being loaded up with meat sacks from the barn by swarming model threes. At least two large spiny bear-shaped antithesis were keeping guard, I think they were model fives? Either way, they were terrifying and as big as a flipping car. Not like, a car that was in the middle of a crash, but just… wait, nevermind.

The antithesis heard and saw us approach, but the boys gunned their engines and we raced past the driveway to the property. Shit, what did we do? Could there be survivors there, or even hiding out in the wilderness nearby?

Reaching forward, I picked up the radio and hit the transmit button. “707 here, what do you guys think? Willing to stop a ways down the road and come back to shoot some bugs?”

The antithesis are actually closer to plants than to bugs, despite their appearance, Gyre interjected, but I ignored him. He’d learn sooner or later that Aussies didn’t have time for details and nuance.

“Will you buy us some guns to shoot them with?” Valu asked, ignoring radio protocol. I guess we were throwing that out the window, considering we were probably the only people out here.

“I’ll need to kill some of them first, but yeah, absolutely,” I replied.

“Sick, let’s get our boy some kills!” Said Valu, making the radio peak slightly.

Ugh. Why did they always have to hit me with the boy? Like, I know it’s totally a term of endearment or whatever, but it still made me uncomfortable. The worst part was that I didn’t actually have a reason for it. It was just a pet peeve of mine.

We continued down the road for another two kilometres before we finally pulled over. Antithesis might be somewhat mindless in low numbers, but they were always relentless. If they could still see, hear, or smell you, then chances were they’d come for you.

When we hopped out of the trucks, I gave my first gun to Valu, along with a fresh magazine. I also bought some more shotgun shells for Chazza so he could defend himself. The other two boys, Eric and Sizzle, stayed behind with the trucks. I hadn’t spoken to either of them properly yet, but they seemed like your average chill trucker dudes.

The road back to Bonney Downs was dark and quiet, despite the growing blaze of the homestead. God, hunting genocidal aliens in the outback was a tense experience! A flicker of movement to the side could be idle movement of the dry desert brush, or it could be something far more sinister.

“It’s so weird that we still can’t get internet,” Valu whispered. “My augs can’t get satellite reception. How the hell does that work? My truck has the antenna on it and it’s not like there’s anything to block the signal.”

Model Nines. Gyre said, and I paused in my tracks while a sudden spike of worry lanced down my nerves.

“What’s a model nine?” I asked slowly.

The generic version is a mimic that uses fine fur to imitate seemingly innocuous objects. The outback variant, however, is used primarily for its lesser known ability to jam digital signals. They will use their stealth capabilities to shadow human prey and keep their ability to call in reinforcements dampened while they wait for their own to arrive. Why do you not know this? It is standard information that should be provided to you when you take a job to drive out here in the wilderness.

I grimaced and once again cursed my co-workers under my breath. “Yeah, well… I didn’t exactly get proper training for this job.”

I see. In that case, the outback model nines are not the type to attack even an unarmed human while they are up and mobile. Attempting to find them while there are other more dangerous models about is a very quick way to get yourself killed. I do however suggest that you do not sleep without first testing every object in your vicinity. They will undoubtedly take the opportunity to kill you while you are unconscious.

“Oh, lovely,” I muttered, and when I noticed the others waiting expectantly, I informed them of our lurking admirers.

“Figures,” Valu muttered. “I didn’t get told shit about that either.”

Chazza, on the other hand, looked somewhat chagrined. “I uh… I did, but I forgot about them.”

“Oh, sick,” the polynesian man groaned. “Two of us fucked over by the corpos and the other one hittin’ the turps too hard every night. I’m heaps confident.”

DUCK.

I dropped to the ground faster than I could’ve ever imagined myself moving even an hour ago, and something dark and sinuous lashed through the air above me.

Scrambling to roll backwards and get my gun up at the same time, my ears were almost blown out by the sound of Chazza’s shotgun going off. The barrel of my SMG came up before I did, so I unloaded into the dark shape looming over me. Bullets tore through the antithesis creature, and it fell backwards, dead.

Target Eliminated!
Reward... 15 Points.

My breathing was ragged as I stood up and swivelled my head around to check for more. Nothing.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Valu hissed, poking it with the barrel of his gun.

The antithesis model was about the size of a bear, but other than that and the four legs, the similarities ended there. Tentacles hung limp and dripping ichor from the front of the creature.

“It’s a model four,” Chazza supplied. “I actually remember this one from the information packet. It creeped me out in pictures too. They uh… shit, I can’t remember what they’re for.”

Ambush predators. This one was hidden under a layer of sand and scrub, laying in wait.

“They hide out and try to kill people like me who aren’t paying attention,” I said, rewording Gyre’s little snippet of information. “I think we should probably keep our eyes on the ball and do the theorising and talking later.”

“For sure,” Valu agreed, and we each hefted our weapons once more, but with even more wary apprehension than previously. Nothing like almost getting impaled by a plant-based hentai monster to keep you alert.