Ryan Somma - The Spiraling Web

"No," the room snapped back. "He might find me. I don't feel the pain anymore. He put the pain inside me, to control me. I'm safe now. If I tell you who I am, he will find me. Just leave me alone."

Devin considered running for Dana. She was the detective, and would know how to get answers from this suspect who was more like a victim, "How did he control you? What did Flatline-"

"Don't speak his name!" the man shouted. Devin's eardrums protested and he twisted the volume knob. The voice dropped several decibels mid-sentence, "He might hear you! Then he will come for me again! Just leave me alone!"

"You are safe," Devin assured him. "You are on an isolated computer system. You aren't connected to the Internet. There is no possible way he can find you here."

"He's everywhere."

"No," Devin said with authority. "He's not. He's on the Internet. You are on an isolated system-"

"The Internet is everywhere," the speakers countered, "He's watching us right now on a camera, or a nearby computer... or..."

The voice continued rambling, mumbling fears that became more incoherent and outlandish each second. Devin had to change the subject, "Are you LD-50?"

"Please! Don't say that-"

"Are you Trevor Hickcock? The hacker who goes by the handle LD-50? "

"I don't know what you are talking about-"

"I'm Omni," Devin spoke over him. "I was Flatline's friend, and if you don't calm down and start answering my questions I'm going to turn you over to him. Do you understand me?"

There was a long silence before Trevor spoke again, "You're the floating eyeball."

"That's right, and you're the psychotic cyborg," Devin said. "A giant robot has just killed several innocent people and destroyed half a building. Were you in control of it?"

"I was responsible for its movements," Trevor was calmer, suppressing his panic, "but I wouldn't call it control. I was just trying to stop the pain."

"The pain?" Devin asked.

"The pain that was coming from that boy," he explained, "I could see him in my mind... if I destroyed him, the pain would stop. I could see him in my mind and I knew where he was. I needed to smash him, tear him to pieces, kill the pain."

"Where did you come from?" Devin asked.

"I remember a factory. There were others..."

"Others?"

"Others," Trevor replied obscurely, "He was building an army."

"Where?"

"I don't know."

Devin thought for a moment. Trevor knew nothing. Whoever he was in the real world, he was a victim now.

"Are you in pain now Trevor?" Devin asked.

"No," he replied calmly, "Flatline is pain. I am safe now."

"I'm going to turn you off."

"That's fine," Trevor said, "I won't know the difference."

Devin shut down the system with Trevor on it. The room was silent, leaving Devin with his thoughts.

Murphy picked off the Moth with two shots. Dana shouted another alert and pointed to the sky. Three more were descending on their position.

Murphy stayed cool, and drew aim over his head, "You clear the area, I'll keep them from detonating the fuel tank."

Dana nodded and turned to the contractors, shouting and waving her hands, but they were slow to respond, a confused mob, alarmed at the gunshots and trying to identify the danger. Murphy saw this chaos of inaction and grimly focused on his own responsibilities.

After wasting three rounds trying to hit one still flying, Murphy decided to let them land, and took position alongside the truck to prevent a ricochet hitting the tank. The moth-bots were tiny, but also slow and less mobile on the ground. As they touched the asphalt, he picked them off, sparks spraying the street.

Murphy dispatched the three moth-bots as they landed, looked up, and counted four more coming over the IWA rooftop. Dropping to one knee he took position and waited. Higher up in the blue skies were more darting black dots. He quickly lost count of them, only knowing he was outmatched.

"Murphy!" it was Dana, she was pointing at the trashed compact car. A moth was taking aim beside it. Murphy picked it off and turned back to the truck to dispatch another.

This was hopeless; he could not defend two targets simultaneously. He spotted a nearby fire truck, its hose off the ravel and engorged with water. Keeping his gun on the two vehicles he backed up to the fire truck. A moth landed beside the compact car and, at this distance, it took three shots to hit it. Another was already taking its place.

He holstered his gun and pulled up the fire hose, twisting the valve, he leaned into its recoil. The torrent was too strong for the fragile bots and they were quickly washed away. Once the ones on the ground were gone, he aimed for the ones in the air, the heavy droplets pulling them down from the sky. It was looking like he might come out victorious.

Then the water pressure dropped. Murphy turned to the fire truck, where a geyser had sprung from its side. Beside the hail of water, a moth was crawling away. It had cut through the line.

The metallic insect dropped to the pavement and took aim on the fire truck's hydrogen tank. A sharp pain shot through the bottom of Murphy's foot when he stomped on the invader, and he fell onto his rear, finding a large needle stinger protruding from the heel of his shoe.

"Cripes," he gritted through his teeth and fell on his side.

Pain traveled up his leg and into his torso, more fluttering metallic insects dropped all around him. Fire radiating through his chest like a heart attack, he managed to pick off two more bots. One had focused its laser on the truck's tank long enough to burn a black pinhole into the casing.

The moth-bots fell out of the air like heavy raindrops. Some broke when they hit the street, trying to position their lasers on the fire truck with whatever legs and wings still functioned. The numbness crawled into Murphy's shoulder; both of his legs were completely numb.

He raised his pistol and fired at another bot. The recoil jolted the firearm from his unfeeling hand, and he reached for it weakly. Through clouding vision, he saw more robots gathering around the fire truck, all focused on the hydrogen tank. The metal glowed red, then yellow. A flash of white consumed him.

The explosion rocked the headquarters like an earthquake. Devin fell under the desk where he was working, throwing his arms over his head. Just in time, as shelving and furniture from the upper floor fell through the ceiling to crash all around him.

Half the building fell away in a waterfall of concrete and plaster. It drew closer and Devin waited to get swept away, bracing for impact, but the rain of debris stopped short of taking his half of the room with it.

Shinning through the swirling dust was the bright orb of the sun. Silt poured over the fractured ledge above in tiny streams. Devin's eyes teared and he squeezed the water from them, trying to clear away the dust. He lay there; breathing slowly through the fabric of his shirt, until the crashing sounds finally subsided.

When he opened his eyes again, the entire city was spread out below him. He did not to move, afraid the floor might collapse and send him plummeting five stories to his death. The scene below was incredible. A mountain of debris piled high, where nearly half the building had crumbled into dust.

Beyond that, on the street where LD-50's remains once were, a gigantic crater was torn into the asphalt, thirty-feet wide and ten feet deep. The pick up truck and compact car were gone. A stunned crowd of people were slowly sorting themselves out, brushing off the dust and checking for injuries.

Devin crawled to the edge of the precipice on trembling hands and looked straight down. His head swam seeing the precariousness of his position and he retreated back under the desk. Being five stories up was nothing when you had the comfort of an enclosed space to deceive you. Now Devin was trapped on an unstable cliff face.