There was movement on the horizon. The shimmering motion of sand being kicked up caught my attention against the backdrop of stillness in the desert.
“Here comes the cavalry,” I muttered as I sat slumped in the driver’s seat facing the windshield clutching the mini-welder and top of the rotor. It was the first sound spoken in the last hour as my nemesis had remained eerily quiet over the airwaves. Glancing back to the left where her skiff sat askew in a dune, I wondered what she planned to do with me.
The approaching skiff grew nearer as it floated over the dunes. It was designed exactly like the pair that had been stranded after the collision. In surveying the damage to mine, I determined that the uplift was compromised as a start. They were designed to survive inclement weather, not a crash. Inside, I had set to work over the last hour to begin repairs on the rotor that I had discreetly grabbed when I stepped outside to survey the damage.
The second vehicle from Pangaea II slowed and then set down on the ground close to the first.
The hatch from the damaged skiff opened and someone in a suit stepped out and marched towards me carrying a taser. As she drew closer, I could see the spiteful countenance behind the mask of the woman who was marching towards me.
Watching her, I sat paralyzed. There was nothing to be gained from opening my hatch and confronting her in the desert with a second vehicle carrying an unknown number of people inside.
Standing outside, she stood and stared directly towards me. From under her helmet, I could see the slight upturned corners of a twisted smile.
“How does it feel to know that you have absolutely failed?”
The voice cooed softly in an unsettling manner as she stopped to face me and spoke into her suit.
I swallowed unnerved by her approach but determined not to let her sense any weakness. “What happens next? You want me to come on out and then you tie me up like a present for Roy to come pick up? Or you stay with option two, the tie me up and stuff me in a bag approach?”
I reached over and grabbed my helmet, preparing to go outside for a fight rather than surrender. It had to be better that way, to try against the odds.
She walked around the back of my skiff and I quickly put my helmet on realizing that she was coming in after me. My suit instantly pressurized as I readied myself for a fight knowing that I would not go quietly.
“You never make things easy on yourself do you?”
I reached over and grabbed the grey weapon that had been sitting on my dashboard. Aiming it at the door, I prepared myself for her entry.
“It’s a bad habit of mine.”
I heard the sound of metal scraping against metal and the clang of something popping lose. And then there was quiet. As I pointed the weapon at the door, I started to shake and watched the taser wobble in my hands.
“Goodbye,” whispered the voice.
I spun around to the front and looked outside. A few steps in front of my vehicle, the woman held up a piece of metal that I instantly recognized as the lithium generator. My eyes went wide.
The suit turned and walked towards the newly arrived skiff. The hatch opened and she climbed inside the other vehicle.
I scrambled towards the exit and popped the door open, but I was too late.
Without saying another word, the skiff departed leaving me alone standing next to my metal coffin in the desert.