Page 164 of Dustwalker

“Why are we talking about this again, anyway? We’ve had the same conversation every time we’re stationed at this post together.”

“Because this post is dull enough that I worry my joints will rust and I’ll be stuck in this spot forever,” Reg replied.

“Another irrational thought process. We would?—”

Ronin cut his audio receptors back to his immediate vicinity. “At least two gearheads, guarding the main entrance.”

“We can take one of these other doors,” someone suggested. “I count four from here.”

“No idea if they’re barricaded from inside or just locked, and mymapping only covers the active portion of the building. Maybe fifteen percent of the complex, at best.”

Maul shifted closer. “We’re going to have to deal with all these gearheads at some point.”

“Would be ideal if we had control of the clinic before we attracted attention.” Ronin ran his optics over their surroundings again. Everything was relatively still, relatively quiet. That only meant a raised alarm would be heard all too clearly by the bots deeper in the district.

“Yeah. So, we need to make this as quick and quiet as possible. Dodge and Dozer, you’re with me and Ronin. Time to introduce ourselves to our hosts.”

Two synths stepped forward. One was a slight female with short blonde hair andDOZERpainted across the front of her helmet in thick black letters. Ronin’s memory contained information on large, powerful, pre-Blackout machines called bulldozers, but it was fragmented, and he couldn’t guess if it was somehow related.

Seemingly sensing Ronin’s unspoken question, Maul said, “At some point before we were all wiped, someone modified her. She wasn’t retrofitted for combat, like a lot of us were, but her actuators are the most advanced we’ve seen. Might’ve been some experimental shit.”

Dozer offered Ronin a lopsided grin and fell into place behind Maul.

The sergeant gestured to the other soldiers. “Gracie, Eisener, Palitto, and Morrison, flank around the east side. Keep below the windows and stick to the shadows. I want you in position and ready to open fire if necessary.”

The group hurried off, disappearing around a corner.

“Rest of you, hold tight. Ears on for the signal to advance,” Maul said before pressing forward.

Ronin followed, his footfalls hushed over the soft grass.

Were Lara and her team in position yet? Was she safe? For several seconds, the urge to change course threatened to override his current processes.

Somehow, he resisted, crossing the lawn to the clinic’s brick face. As he readied his rifle, he found himself missing the familiar grooves worn in the grip of his old firearm. His prior weapon had served him reliably for fifty-seven years. He knew his attachment to it was sentimental, and therefore irrational, but he couldn’t deny it.

Maul halted at the corner, pressed his back against the wall, andpeered around it. This section of the building ran north-south, and the next was perpendicular to it. The front entrance was at their meeting point.

The sergeant turned his head toward Ronin and the others, lowering his voice so it was barely audible. “Two armed targets. Eighty-five meters between us and that door. And they’ll have optics on us the moment we leave cover.”

Ronin’s processors ramped up, tumbling through thousands of simulated approaches. Leaving cover was a necessity, and the highest chances of success afterward involved immediately opening fire on the guards.

But the consequences of doing so…

He stepped away from the wall, unslung his rifle, and held it out to Maul.

“The hell are you doing?” the Sergeant asked.

“Taking the most direct approach.” Ronin gestured to Dozer. “Give your weapon to Dodge.”

“You must be in the throes of a critical error,” she replied, stone-faced.

“Gunfire will draw attention. We don’t want that yet, not until we’re ready.”

“So, the answer is to walk up to them and ask if we can go in?” Maul asked.

Ronin shook his head. “No. She’s going to walk up to them, dragging me along.”

“And what will that accomplish, besides giving them some easy targets?” Dozer held her rifle across her chest, casually resting her left hand atop the handguard. It was an incredibly human pose.