Fighting Boy Meets Girl

Crashing shoulder first into the snowy, muddy ground, she tumbled to a stop. Although laid out like a doll, the girl had no desire to move.

But her cloudy consciousness cleared. When she slowly lifted her head, she saw the mostly destroyed Jeep snapped in half like a twig, its rear wheels spinning futilely.

The girl tried to get up, but there was no strength in her shoulder—it was either broken or dislocated. Oddly enough, however, she felt no pain. She half-crawled toward the automobile wreckage, spotting the battered and bloody driver pinned beneath some of the car's plating.

"Take this," he gasped, holding out a CD case with a trembling hand. "Go… south…"

His eyes were wet with tears.

"Hurry. Run."

And that was it for him. His tear-filled eyes were still half-open, forever frozen in anguish.

The girl did not understand why the man was crying. Pain? Fear of death? Something else?

Suddenly, her survival instincts kicked in. She stood, took the CD case, and began to plop one dirty, bloody foot after another through the mud. She had no idea which way south was, but she walked in a straight line regardless, continually biting her thumbnail as she went.

Rotors chopped noisily through the air. An engine howled as it sucked in air and gas. It was a helicopter—and it was approaching quickly! The forest swayed in the man-made wind.

The girl looked up to see a gray attack helicopter, its body rugged and gnarled like an old tree.

How ugly, she thought.

"Halt!" warned the helicopter's external speaker. "Or you will be shot to death!"

Of course, she did not halt. She continued to drudge in a straight line.

"Where do you think you're going?" The helicopter's machine gun fired a few rounds into the ground near the girl. Chunks of earth flew through the air, and the girl fell to the ground.

"Bad girls get punished."

As she tried to pick herself up using her one good arm, a smattering of shots struck the ground around her.

The impact of the bullets in the ground near the girl made it impossible for her to get up. The sound of laughter came through the helicopter's loudspeaker.

Determined, the girl continued to crawl.

"Oh, poor little girl. Look how worn out she is! And still, she keeps—" the voice cut out, leaving only the sound of the chopper's spinning blades.

"Look out! It's an AS. Increase alti—"

The high-pitched sound of crushing metal interrupted the pilot. The helicopter became a veritable spark factory. The girl looked up and saw something sticking out of the machine's nose.

A knife?

It was a huge knife—a throwing knife as large as a person. The red-hot blade stuck clear through the helicopter's nose.

Fighting a losing battle with gravity, the attack helicopter lurched in a great spin. Fishtailing like crazy, it hurtled toward the girl. She had neither the time nor the aspiration to move from its path. She stayed rooted in place, watching the hunk of iron that would bring her demise.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of an extremely large figure.

The mysterious figure straddled her, spread its arms, braced its legs, and stood in front of the oncoming helicopter.

Crash!

Scraps of metal flew around, and small parts rained from the sky. The grating sounds of grinding gears and uselessly spinning turbines played an aircraft's dirge duet.

When the girl looked up, she saw that the giant humanlike shape had caught the helicopter with its upper body. Its back bent vigorously, and steam gushed from the joints in its arms, shoulders, hips, and knees.

It began to walk, its heavy footsteps kicking up chunks of dirt and snow. The machine carried the helicopter a sufficient distance from the girl, whereupon it tossed the whirlybird into the forest. The chopper wreckage fell to the ground and exploded.

The machine, which was roughly twenty-six feet tall, turned around. It was backlit by the flaming helicopter.

Finally, the girl was able to get a good look at the mysterious behemoth, which greatly resembled an athletic person with its long legs, tight waist, massive chest, and burly arms; it just happened to be coated with armor plating. The machine looked like a fighter pilot wearing a helmet, and it carried a proportional gun and backpack, just like a person would.

"It's an… Arm Slave, an assault trooper!"

The AS, a mechanized giant, returned to her side.

"Are you injured?" asked the humanoid machine in a calm male voice. "I had to use an anti-tank dagger because the helicopter was so close to you. My shot cannon would have been much too powerful."

Still in a state of shock, the girl said nothing. The AS knelt, braced itself with one of its giant mechanical hands, and lowered its head. It looked like a scene from a fairy tale: a gray giant kneeling before a tattered princess.

Ssssssss.

A hatch on the Arm Slave's torso opened, and a soldier popped up through the hatch behind the machine's head.