Weekly Ramble #43

And so the final words of Jack Thorn appear on the horizon. What stands before me is still a mountain of a task but behind me is 100,000 plus words drafted of a story that I originally created fifteen years ago; the first attempt came out with 40,000 words, I guess that’s the true reflection of how much I’ve grown over the years much like this book which will change science fiction – I suppose one can dream… 

This book and it’s contents I carry with me, everywhere I go, I have done since I was a teen so why did I decide to write this now?

Jack Thorn is and always will be home to me, it’s my dream book, the one I have always wanted to read. This year has been hard, I knew that from the onset, and so because I moved into my own place I needed something to make me feel at home, and I’ve decided now to that this attempt is justifiable by the fact I’ve learned how to write and tell stories by simply doing that.

I care so much about this story that I was willing to put it to one side and delve into other worlds so I can hone this craft I now have before me. I wanted to be my very best for this tale and it’s been a long journey and even now I have battled to carve a path I mostly already knew, it just needed to be updated, polished and adapted to today’s standards.

The full title I have now chosen and will reveal in time. Hopefully by the end of the month ‘Jack Thorn’ would have been drafted. I said next year’s plan I would be querying, but I will probably be editing for a long while.

The ultimate question you probably have is what’s the premise of Jack Thorn? Like all of my stuff it appears as one thing but is actually a stack of different things – right?

Jack Thorn is a science fiction epic about robots in the future. But it’s really about; friendship, family, war, prophecy and above all humanity. From what started as quite simple story has spider webbed into a epic mess of a story and journey of darkness, action, fun, emotion and destiny.

After all these years this dream stands strong, every single word of it…

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Jack Thorn: A story of the Future: Chapter 4, Part 2

Empty brown vastness faced the First where he stood. From overhead came the whooshing rumble of jet engines. A trio of needle shaped air cruisers hurtled past and made for the horizon. He had watched them travel out and return from his rooftop vantage point all day.

His top advisor stood to the right. The Secretary of defence and with that eastern European tongue he spoke,

“The Army of Earth frontline has been reduced significantly First.”

His holographic image flickered momentarily.

“We have done more than enough to buy us the required time. Perhaps now we should think about…”

The First held up a solitary finger and interrupted,

“Retreat? There will be no such word used in this campaign Secretary. Everything you have given me has failed, minus the fighters currently pummelling those silly little humans at the other end of this planet.”

The glare he gave almost burned through the flickering image of his cohort.

“I am in agreement with you First, but you must consider the airborne resources for the invasion. Troop numbers will not grant us victory alone. I urge you to follow our plan.”

“And I urge you to do I say! Plans are subject to change in the current circumstances Secretary. Just keep building that unlimited army you promised, and I’ll keep buying you more time. In the next coming days my army will pull back, not retreat, into the rocky ridge. You can then have the cruisers back, in time.”

The First tapped his wrist commy and the Secretary’s image faded away. He spun around and then stopped dead.

“Time?” The concealed voice of Robot-K said. His darkened hood angled down to the First.

“Something which you promised me First, no?”

Robot-K extended his cloaked arm and gripped the First’s shoulder. A huge leather glove began to close.

“And you will have your time Robot-K. That is what I promised you.” He tried to move but Robot-K’s grasp strengthened.

“That is what, you earned,” he added.

“There are more whispers from the battlefield First. That name, Thorn, a Maverick…”

“I will strike down anyone who utters those two words!” The First forcefully broke free.

“They seem to forget what I did to the last Maverick,” he added and looked up to the shadowy hood with two wide eyes, and then turned away.

“John Thorn,” Robot-K said in a long breathless whisper.

“Gone, forever. To be never spoken of again,” the First said.

“Don’t make me ask you the questions Robot-K,” he faced the shrouded hood again.

“I, uh, remember her…” Robot-K’s stance loosened and his superior stepped in.

“Look at me Robot-K!”

In that moment images of the past raced around Robot-K’s vision. Everything centred around him in darkness looking down at one person. More memories seemed to flood in. Sunlight and birds chirping. Gentle and playful laughter. His gloved hand ran through blood red hair. Muffled speaking echoed to him.

“I know you,” the voice of a girl said.

The sunlight immediately shut off with a thud. Laughter and voices clunked to silence along with those birds. A more familiar voice led Robot-K out this trance. He came back to the reality of X43.

“I am, Robot-K.”

“And what will you do?” The First asked, his voice clearer than ever.

There came no reply from the darkened space from inside the robot’s red hood. A firm breeze whistled by in what seemed like an eternity for the First who couldn’t move.

“And what will you do?” This time his words came through gritted teeth.

Another lengthy pause was filled by yet another burst of wind. Just before the First’s words would reveal his panic, the tall and cloaked robot spoke,

“I will fulfil the destiny of our leader the Keeper who ruled before me over the robots and Warriors of old. I am Robot-K, guardian of the sword and have sworn my allegiance to the First.”

Robot-K looked down to see his gloved hand entangled in the First’s dark hair. He sharply stepped back and stood firm.

“As promised, you will have your time Robot-K, but you are not to forget who you are and your place. I chose you for what you did for me no matter what prophecies were laid out. Maverick or no Maverick, Jack Thorn will perish like the rest of the humans out there in that mud. If the battle doesn’t kill him, then I will.” The First charged away leaving Robot-K to stare at the murky horizon.

“There is another, a girl,” he said to himself.

*                      *                      *

“I want to wake up now,” Jack Thorn said in what tried to be a shout.

The croaky words that flowed out of his dry mouth brought him back to consciousness. All around the sounds of his surroundings tuned in. People talking and moving around. A bleep and a hiss here. The warmth, nothing like where he last lay cradling a rifle in frozen mud on the inside of a crater. He felt calm now, perhaps even sedate.

“Vital signs nominal,” an electronic voice said.

Jack slightly opened his eyes. The white burned the back of them for just a moment until he adjusted. A shimmering image lay in front of his view. A camera of some kind, it pixelated to almost transparency and then floated away revealing the room. The medical wing or even a hospital.

“Uh, what?” He panicked for a second to realise his two legs and two arms were intact. He felt stubble on a seemingly unharmed face.

“About time you woke up,” a deep voice said from the left. Jack recognised it from somewhere and just when he glanced to the next bed over, he remembered.

“Jones? Brock Jones?”

“In the flesh and horizontal. We took quite a hit out there on the battlefield,” Brock Jones said.

Jack saw the broad and tall man adjust in the less than comfortable sized bed.

“But don’t panic. We’re not off this muddy rock yet. This the HQ hospital,” Brock added.

“Wait a minute, that was you out there. The suicide artist running in to the field alone?” Jack asked.

Brock chuckled and cracked a smile,

“Ha, yeah. That was me. Got bored of talking shit in my alcove. Guess the big freeze got in my head, thought I saw incoming robots.

“What happened to us out there?”

“We got caught up in an enemy airborne offensive. Apparently the both of us were all blood and puke when they brought us in. They flattened most of the front-line base, all those tents and huts, taken down in a few swoops. By the time Army of Earth airborne could mobilise it was too damn late.” Brock made an exploding motion with both of his wide hands.

The others, I left them again. 

“But don’t worry, the trench lines are still there and pushing the enemy back. So your trench buddies are probably holding up. For a while I didn’t think it was you, without the hair and all. Good to see you in crewcut, like me. Not in a million years did I think I would be bumping into you on this rock.” Brock chuckled again, his deep voice bellowing throughout the medial wing.

“Likewise. It’s been a while,” Jack said.

“Since the academy I’ll say Too long. Especially for you, man that short time you were there. Pure comedy gold dude.”

“You were the one who had a big future planned after the academy. Me? Not so much,” Jack shrugged.

“I remember when you came strolling in, scholarship kid and all. Big ass chip on your shoulder but you were a decent athlete.”

Jack smiled as Brock took him back. He recalled a youth where mostly rebelled against anything resembling rule and order. Those days were so much simpler.

“And you decide to major in ethics at a sports medical academy. Jack Thorn, the ethics major.”

“Huh, yeah. Ethics. The snooty bastards didn’t know how to take that until I dropped out. I don’t know how you stayed,” Thorn said.

“Me. I looked more like a rich kid than you. Plus, I did that thing where you talk and socialise, what’s it called again? Integrate. Do remember that club you started? Roaming the streets of Cliffeville picking fights. What was it called? Robot fighting something?” Brock asked.

“That was Frank Connors brainchild. The robot fighters. We took it from the academy’s initials on their sports jackets,” Jack explained.

“Yeah they didn’t like that. Then what happened? There was that girl you followed out of that place. Katie?” Brock asked.

“I married her, and we got two kids. I guess the plot thickened after I broke out of there.”

“Sounds like you did something right.”

“Only a couple of things, I guess. What brings Brock Jones to X43?”

“Felt like a career change. My Father lined me up with a job working for him way back when. Something about robot crime. I became a pro wrestler instead, toured the outer planets for a few years but it didn’t come to anything.”

“Wait, you were a pro wrestler?” Jack asked.

“It kinda makes sense. You were the best on the academy team. If only they knew that,” he added.

“You tell my old man that. After turning his job down, we haven’t spoke since, asshole,” Brock said.

“That sounds all too familiar. So when do we get out of here?” Jack asked.

“Today soldiers,” a senior nurse said as she stepped between their beds.

“Your vitals are fine, and we need your beds.” The authoritarian looking nurse momentarily glanced down at a handheld tablet.

“Soldier Thorn, Jack Thorn. Guess you were right Jones,” she said and looked to Brock.

“Damn right I was, I mean, yes mam.”

“Soldier Jones insisted on staying here until he knew you were ok. Guess you are friends after all. The news is somewhat a little better from the front line today. They are saying it will be over in the next three months. You’ll both eat and then I’ll have your uniforms brought to you. Then you will both be discharged this afternoon.”

“Thanks mam, that sounds great mam,” Brock said. They both watched her glide away to the opposite bed.

“So that job your Father lined you up with. Did it have anything to do with something called the World Force?” Jack asked.

He then realised the son of a man he knew as Sarge was looking back at him with a semi-confused expression.

End of Part 10

NEXT WEEK WILL BE THE SEASON FINALE OF JACK THORN

READ THE FINALE HERE

Tune in Next week for another edition of Jack Thorn. Same Jack time, same Jack place… Remember if you enjoyed reading, tell a friend, leave a comment and share it around on social media…

Copyright 2004 – 2019 ‘Jack Thorn’ and ‘The Thorn Legacy’ Written By Lee Hall 2019 All rights reserved.  

 

Jack Thorn: A story of the Future: Chapter 1, Part 3

Jack eased himself onto a wooden bench and sat back. Green grass surrounded him with a line of flowers following the nearby path that snaked away from the scene. Birds were chirping and the trees rustled gently as a warm breeze blew. He unzipped his army tracksuit jacket and at that moment a beam of light broke out from the clouds above.

“Could be worse,” he said. Even the smell of summer filled his nostrils.

“Hey, new boy!”

He could see a little further along the path whilst a figure approached. At first she seemed a blur until coming closer. Blonde hair flowed down over the shoulders of a white lab coat she wore. Her face smiled towards him.

“Katie,” he said and slowly stood. She crashed into him and wrapped both arms around his shoulders.

Just when the warm familiarity consumed them both, their whole world flashed. Alarms blazed and sirens rung.

“No full body contact! No full body contact! Disperse now! Disperse now!” A computerised voice commanded on repeat. That was until they separated.

“Ah, I guess it’s prison rules for us,” Jack said, “of the non-conjugal persuasion,” he added looking up and all around before moving to the bench.

“We can still hold hands,” Katie said and interlocked her fingers with his. Both of their images flickered momentarily and there they sat in this near perfect backdrop.

“How’s life?” He asked while briefly finding her blue eyes.

“Probably better than the rock you’re on,” she said.

“And the two dependents?” He asked.

“Growing up without their Dad, quickly.”

Those two ‘dependents’ were the only thing Jack Thorn had any pride for in life. His marriage stood at joint top although he didn’t boast about his private affairs to anyone, it was a sort of protectiveness. Thorn hardly showed affection to anyone unless he knew them quite well and even then he still had to like them, but around Katie, he let his guard down.

“So how’s my war hero?” She rested her head on his shoulder and removed contact just before the alarms sounded again.

“I’m hardly a hero. I just helped out a little and got awarded a star of honor. The wage doesn’t change.”

The couple had done well considering both of them were once outcast kids of a private academy. She played the goth type once upon a time, he was the fish out of water scholarship kid. They were a match made in heaven from the very beginning. Even after she lost the piercings and spiky black hair. Their rebel drop out phase came and went, now they were adults. Then came the war.

“Well about that. Things have been rough back at home, especially with the move and all…”

“Move? What happened?”

“You haven’t heard the news?” Katie swivelled and faced him.

“We don’t get much news out on this rock.”

“The government, they shut down every department in Cliffeville. The whole state is cut off. The western divide has fallen. We had to leave it wasn’t safe,” Katie explained.

“Where did you take the kids?”

Kate leant forward and hesitated momentarily,

“Look Jack, you know this is hard. You’re away from home and I’m working full time with a seven and a four-year-old,” she said.

“Katie, what is it?” He took her hand.

“It’s your Father.”

He immediately turned away in defence, but Katie kept her grip on his hand.

“He reached out to me. He offered us all a room at his place. We’ve moved in with him okay? He was so helpful and nice…”

Jack pulled his hand from her. He then fully turned away. There was a history. A history of no contact for many years.

“Yeah that’s how he starts. Look I have no time for the guy but as long as you, Shane and Kristie are fine, that’s all that matters,” he said and faced her again with a hand held out.

“He is a good man Jack. After all, if it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be here.”

“If you say so. We’ve never seen eye to eye, and we haven spoke in literally years. How is he with the kids?”

“He’s fine Jack, please don’t worry okay. Just worry about getting home. And I‘ve got a job in the city. Daytime clinic hours at the Grace hospital. Maybe when you get home, we could think about moving there full time…”

The surrounding area began to slowly darken and flicker.

“Attention, credit is running low, credit is running low. Please transfer funds into your account,” the loud announcing voice said.

“That’ll be the complimentary army credit. Look Katie I got to go. I’ve got some meeting with a Sergeant.”

“Jack?” She took his other hand and looked him in the eyes. That was when her image began to flicker.

“I love you and I miss you. Come home safe, please…” Katie’s image disappeared just as Jack lowered his head and muttered

“I love you, too…”

From out of the darkness came blinding light of pure artificial white. Jack lifted a hand and waved it in front of him. Nothing. He patted his head and slowly removed the V.R. helmet. There he lay on a narrow bed with each of his limbs connected to various wiring by oversized clear plastic boots and gloves.

Surrounding him were several other beds, some with soldiers in, others without. He sat up and got out of the gloves and boots, then he pulled himself out of the bucket style vessel and made his way past the several V.R. beds. Near enough every wall surface was plastered with the logo ‘Pluto’ and slogans like ‘Pluto sponsors the Troops’. This was a corporate war after all, even his army tracksuit had corporate tags.

 

Jeremy Jones hadn’t felt this nervous for years. He stood in front of an empty classroom. The individual desks filled with nothing but air and the only sound came from the constant hum of electricity probably from the various sponsor type posters projected onto the walls. He looked at the nearest slogan, ‘Pluto is in every business, even the war business…’.

“This war is just a damn commercial,” he muttered and perched his large frame against the front desk.

Where was this kid he was supposed to be meeting? He was due five minutes ago, Jones didn’t like bad punctuality; if you say you’re gonna be somewhere then be there. Regardless of who you were.

“Where is this damn kid?” He muttered and turned to face a large screen.

From the back came the sliding sound of double doors opening.

“Sorry I’m late Sarge, I had to call home to my wife sir,” Jack said with that army assertiveness as he stood to attention.

“No need for the ceremony kid. I lost my rank a long time ago,” Jones said.

“All for a good cause mind.” He smiled and turned.

Jack was smaller than Jones expected although Jones stood taller than most people with his wide shoulders and now slight gut.

“You must be Jack Thorn. The name’s Jones, if you want you can call me Sarge,” he added.

“So you’re not a Sergeant officially but, people call you it anyway?”

“It’s a long story son, but I have heard reports of what you did out there on the battlefield,” Jones said as Jack readied to mount a defence.

“Yeah, I guessed that’s why you were here. If you want me to admit it was risky and dangerous then…”

“No, no. The reports I have heard are only good. In fact, not only did you make an Army of Earth Major’s battle report but a Secret Earth Services Mercenary-General’s report. They were right to reward you with that star of honor. I’m sure with enough time on the battlefield you’ll earn more, but I’m not here to talk about a corporately sponsored war.”

Jack kept a curious focus on Jones,

“Then why are you here?”

As much as Jones wanted to mention what he knew Jack to be. He left the prophecy and destiny talk for now.

“If I said the words ‘World Force’ would they mean anything to you?” He asked as Jack shook his head vacantly.

“He mustn’t have mentioned anything,” Jones said to himself but out loud.

“What about robot crime?” He asked.

“I know my father had something to do with robot crime when he worked in the Police Force. Then he became a lecturer for a while.”

“That’s correct Jack. In the past, myself and some others put together the first robot crime fighting force in the world. We originally worked out of the New York Police Force and separated soon after. We were called the World Force. For some years, we made the city a much safer place, especially in times where human crime was all but zero.”

“What has this got to do with me? I’m just a soldier,” Jack said.

“But you aren’t Thorn. Those battle reports describe you as single-handedly taking on robots with a combat expertise never ever seen on the battle field. I want to use your skills in reforming the World Force. The robot crime problem has never gone away even with the recent rebellion. I want you to come to the Secret Earth Services just for a no strings attached try-out of sorts. If the reports are true, then you will make the ultimate robot fighter.”

“I don’t know Sarge. I’ve still got a war to fight here on X43 and then I plan on getting home to my family.”

“The endless battle on this rock can wait. There won’t be a job in the army after this war for you but there will be in robot crime. Think about it Thorn, this is in your blood. I knew your father and your mother, they were both fine robot crime fighters, this is what you are destined to do son,” Jones said without realizing he was clenching both of his fists in passion.

“You knew my mother? Do you know what happened to her? I never got an answer from my father, but it looked like a robot killed her. What happened Sarge?” Jack looked to Jones with a firm stare. It was in those eyes Jones saw a fire and motivation to find answers.

“You will find answers if you choose to join me Thorn.”

“Sign me up,” Jack said.

The one thing Jack Thorn never understood was the past. Although he’d always been destined to fight robots, his personal purpose to find the truth drove him. And at that moment the first flame towards an eventual fire of destiny sparked to ignition.

Jack Thorn’s journey to being a maverick had just begun.

*                      *                      *

He’s coming.

From a very young age Anne-Marie learned to hide the torment of her inner mind and keep everything under the hood. People asked less questions when faced with a fake smile. She chose to scream on the inside and swallow down the fear of what sleeping had become. Insomnia used to work as a teen, but even she knew from the confines of a ‘secure hospital unit’ that if you wanted to retain your looks, you had to sleep.

Her alleged doctor even helped with that by hooking some ungodly device to her intravenous line. Every time she would wake, normally with a heavy breath and a fast beating heart, the machine would click in with a whoosh and administer another damned sedative. Asleep is what he needed her to be if they wanted ‘collate’ information about her ‘wonderfully gifted’ brain, that along with the head gear strapped to her which in hand was tethered to a computer. She really hated that doctor, with his white coat and silver hair. The typical older creep, normally with a syringe in one pocket and something condescending to say, even his name Dr Leecher sounded creepy.

Whether the doctors were helping passed her by, especially after years of confinement, white coats and experimental procedures. Anne-Marie had become quite the paranoid soul. Underneath all the sedatives and tormented sleep she knew one day her guardian would return and bust her out of there.

When the dreams fuelled by fire and lightning ended, a pure black stared back at her and that was when she chose to awaken. Slowly her eyes would open but she did not move a muscle or dare increase her breath intake. Any sign her body had found consciousness and that machine would kick in. Her eyes wandered around the plain dark room, they ached as they reached the extremity of right and left.

Something disturbed her and it wasn’t the dreams. An almost premonition kicked in, something was coming.

Directly in front stood the door with a pane of opaque glass. Weak light beamed through from the corridor. A shadow drifted by, the night orderly, or one of them anyway. Hopefully it wasn’t the handsy one, although being a patient of her caliber and the lack of dignity, it still never ever felt right to be groped in any way by someone perceived as trust worthy staff.

Again a shadow passed and then another, both were in a rush and their erratic voices spoke. Would this be the night where her guardian would finally ride in and sweep her away to safety?

“Call for security! Wait no…” A shadow violently crashed into the door with its mass filling the window. It slid downwards without struggle.

He’s here.

After more commotion the door handle got firmly gripped by a looming shadow. Anne-Marie watched with two wide eyes as this tall and wide mass entered the room.

“Warrior, is that you?” She asked breathlessly and so that machine wouldn’t inject her again.

The reply didn’t come straight away, and the mass seemed to stand there just watching. Then a voice spoke,

“Yes my dear. I have finally returned to you.” The square shouldered figure known as the Warrior spoke with a deep computerized style voice.

Her heart began to beat quicker and she was awake now. The machine began to whirr as it came to life.

“Please, the machine…” She weakly pointed to it in shadowy darkness. Her saviour had already got there.

A large hand moved to the intravenous line that fed into her hand. Although big and clunky looking this Warrior moved gently in disconnecting her. He moved to the headgear and carefully raised it from her blood red hair which flopped down.

She shuffled herself into the beam of light shining from the hallway. Her blue eyes and pale face stared up in wonder at this rescuer.

“I waited and waited. About time you got me out of here,” she said.

Two glove covered hands began to scoop her from the bed.

“It would be great for you to pick me up and whisk me away but I can manage,” she said and speedily jumped out of the bed. Her bare feet touching the shiny floor.

“Very well. We must move with haste.” They linked hands. One of flesh and the other of a being known as a Warrior. Just when she gripped firmly the room flashed red. Alarms began to ring.

“That’s the lockdown alarm!”

“Come on,” the Warrior shouted, and he led her to the door.

They stepped out just when the alarms muted but the flashing lights continued. Either side stood security guards, each of them with handguns outstretched. Behind the line of security were two orderlies, both looking worse for wear whilst standing beside a white coated older man, Doctor Leecher.

All of them cast their eyes upon the pair, one, a pale red headed woman in all white; the other a considerable figure in an all-black armoured type of wet suit. His shape resembled machine more than man.

“Please whoever you are. Whatever you are, that girl is very very important. You have no idea, she is vital to much of the research conducted here…” Doctor Leecher shouted and the Warrior interrupted.

“No human, you have no idea how important this girl is to the future of mankind. Stand down all of you!”

“It’s woman, not girl,” Anne-Marie said breaking the tense silence and raising a hand.

“Please Anne-Marie talk some sense into this, this prowler,” the doctor demanded.

“Actually it’s Rouge, and this prowler is a Warrior. ‘The Warrior’ and he is here to bust me out Leecher,” as the blood red haired Rouge finished talking the guards from either side moved in aggressively.

The Warrior scooped her into his large arms and spun.

“We are leaving,” he bellowed. She was cradled in large robotic arms that lay under the tight armouring. Her only safe place ever.

Guns fired into the back of this wide protector, his protective attire deflecting the bullets. He groaned in reaction and took her back into the dark room.

“Aim for the damn head of that thing!” The doctor demanded and the guns aimed up at the equally armoured balaclava of this Warrior.

“Go for the window,” Rouge shouted. She pointed towards a wide barred window.

He charged with her still in grasp and turned at the last minute. His bullet deflecting back crashing through bars and windows.The view Rouge had represented spectacular destruction. She felt the air of a clear evening and a bright moon shining down above. Her airwaves breathed in fresh oxygen and she could smell flowers and grass.

“You are okay?” The Warrior asked while holding her close. She nodded and his two thick legs sprang into action. She couldn’t help looking at the hole where the barred window previously stood.

“You took the whole wall out,” she said.

“A necessary act,” the Warrior added.

“What happens now?” She asked in that slightly condescending manner like her protector hadn’t thought of a plan.

“We run, like always.”

*                      *                      *

 “The revolution will come, and the freaks shall rise. We will reclaim the streets as our own and our master the Keeper shall return to lead us into revolution. It will be a hard battle and many of us will not see freedom. That we all know too well is the price for such a thing…”

From behind came the rusty metal on metal sound of the truck’s back window sliding open.

“Hey Freak. You talkin’ to yourself again?” The large robot known as F.G asked. So large in fact he couldn’t fit in the passenger section of the old beaten pick-up. His wide head offered to the much smaller opening looking to the driver.

“I was just re-living an old memory and envisioning another time. If only I knew what I know now, then,” said a robot known as the Freak with a deep sigh. His white balaclava covered head paired with large dark sunglasses matched the namesake well.

No longer did an audience stand out in front looking up to him but a darkened street instead.

“What memory was that?” F.G asked.

“Oh, of days gone and perhaps never to return. Days I found myself at the forefront of revolution, not of robots rising up, but of robots playing their part in the crime fighting efforts our kind have become known for. Working shoulder to shoulder with men and women of the World Robot defence force. Looking up to our ancestors known as Warriors. Bringing the fight to the First and spawning the Robots with Humans. I had a purpose back then, and now, what of now?” The Freak sighed.

“What about the days of anarchy?” FG asked.

“An empty reboot of a day even further from reach F.G. None of us apart from the one they now call Mimic actually wanted to partake. I long to find myself involved again with battles, even to be caught in the cross fire as a civilian would thirst a longing quench. On my chest of this uniform once read the letters ‘R.W.H’ now it is plain and without purpose.. Much like the once enigmatic Robots with Humans.”

“You mean quench a longing thirst?” F.G asked and momentarily checked his chest and the matching dark blue camouflage uniform. Much like the Freak’s his once was labelled.

“Precisely old friend. I just want something purposeful F.G. Waiting for this supposed lone Warrior to emerge is just another false promise,” the Freak said.

He looked right to see a fenced surrounded building drowned in shadows.

“Is this even the correct location?” he asked.

“This is the place. He’s been seen here hanging around.”

“And then what F.G? What do we say to this Warrior when he faces us?”

“That question is something I think you’re about to ask?” F.G said. His chunky finger pointed to a bright mass of light which burst from the building they were parked opposite.

A piercing alarm sounded, then came the crashing followed by echoing gun fire. Movement came from the grassy area between the building and a surrounding mesh fence.

“Something is indeed happening. Look a figure, is this a break out?” The Freak asked. He watched two shadows move out of the motion sensed lighting.

“There’s two of them,” F.G. said and moved across the flat bed of the truck.

 

Rouge felt momentary joy when her bare feet touched soft grass. Just when she was about to express her happiness there came another overwhelming feeling of exhaust. She watched the Warrior run ahead.

“I think I’m drunk…” She began to fall. The Warrior doubled back and scooped her up. From nearby they both heard the struggling of a starting motor.

“Guess you gonna have to carry me,” she added.

Voices and thumping footsteps came closed in. The Warrior frantically looked all around for a way out. The fence stood high and capped with reels of barbed wire.

“We, need to go,” Rouge drunkenly said and stared up the Warrior’s balaclava covered head.

“We need a way out,” he said.

It would only be moments until more armed guards arrived.

“How did you get in?” Rouge asked as a beam of light closed in from the nearby fence.

It shone brighter and brighter and came closer. A clunky engine struggled and then came the sound tyres mounting a kerb. Those same tyres screeched and the Warrior cowered away when the incoming light hit mesh fencing. It burst through with one try and skidded around on the grass to reveal itself as a truck.

“I must recommend! That you endeavour to join us in this vehicle,” the Freak shouted from the front. He shoved the vehicle into gear.

The Warrior stared at the large robot in the back and hesitated for a moment. Gun fire burst towards him, one stray bullet hit the truck.

“Quickly, if you please?”

“Here, hand the girl to me,” F.G. said whilst holding out both hands.

The Warrior gave an unconscious Rouge to the robot known as F.G. and hopped in to the back of the truck.

“And, accelerating.” The Freak footed the gas pedal and wheels spun on damp grass. Gunfire bounced off the rusty metal truck which found the road and sped off into the night.

 

End of Part 3

READ CHAPTER 2 HERE

Tune in Next week for another edition of Jack Thorn. Same Jack time, same Jack place… Remember if you enjoyed reading, tell a friend, leave a comment and share it around on social media…

Copyright 2004 – 2019 ‘Jack Thorn’ and ‘The Thorn Legacy’ Written By Lee Hall 2019 All rights reserved.  

COMPETITION TIME : Read my book for free!

‘In the future there will be robots. They will look like us, work with us and even try to be us. But they are not us.’

Since august the Hall of information has been building a following! People from all corners of the world, mostly US and UK have been reading the various reviews and ramblings I have had to offer.

In my efforts to gain blog supremacy I am going to run a competition! In conjunction with this competition I am happy to announce that the first chapter of my book, CLARK THORN AND THE WARRIOR PROJECT, has made its way onto this site and you can read it for free!

The competition is simple, read my work and leave a few comments reviewing what you thought.

A winner will be selected, I will be taking into account what you thought (obviously) and if you are a follower of my blog, liking my Facebook page and following me in the land of tweets may also give you an advantage (nudge nudge wink wink, say no more say no more!)

The prize, an exclusive copy of my unpublished novel in its entirety!

Get reading and get commenting!

Competition closing date, when I decide, keep you all posted.