Bzzzzzzz
The propellers of the drone damn near gave me a haircut as I dove away.
“Shit,” I cursed - the mud smothering my face muffling the word.
I didn’t want to be here. I hated it here. But, when America called, I was expected to do my duty.
Lifting my face from the muck, I just made out the autonomous drone as it swung out in a long arc. Though the drone was far, it stayed relatively low to the ground. Algorithms alone optimized its flight path.
Pushing off, I made my way back to my feet. After falling so many times, I could hardly make out the camo pattern of my uniform from behind the dirt. With my unit patches ripped away, only the single American flag on my shoulder remained. I wiped away some of the bigger clumps from my fatigues. I didn’t have much time.
The drone, with four whirling blades, turned around. With no human pilot, it could fly for as long as it’s batteries remained charged. Based on what the Sargent said, that could be hours from now. Hovering, its machine brain scanned the surroundings for its target. Like before, it quickly found what it was looking for: me.
Tilting down, the hovering drone plunged forward. As it came closer, I could make out the contact fuse of the explosive charge strapped below. I felt like a medieval peasant facing down the lance of a charging knight. Move too soon, and the drone would have time to maneuver. Wait too long…
Did I wait too long?
My feet lifted off the ground as I shifted my entire body weight to the side. My left shoulder dug deep into the mud as the drone whizzed by. It stung from the impact. I took several deep breaths; the sweat sticking the dirt to my cheek.
I was getting too tired. I was losing.
Even in the twenty-first century, with its hunter-killer drones, sentry guns, and autonomous search and destroy rovers, armies still needed men. After four years of conflict, the US army needed them more than ever. Like many of my friends, I was unlucky enough to be chosen.
Again, the drone swung wide to begin its search. Standing, I took a second to survey my surroundings. The Eastern European countryside, burned, bleak and dead, showed no signs of life. Like the Great War before, this one had also fallen into a stalemate. Explosions and shrapnel had shredded the farms and fields into a thick clay. The landscape was flat and featureless except for the one landmark: a single dead tree.
I had to make it there.
The drone flew towards me again. It came as fast and as effortlessly as before. Again, aiming for the direction of the tree, I dove to the ground. The drone buzzed my ear.
I clenched my fists, smacking them into the dirt. Lifting off, yet again, I crept towards my target. Each step fell heavy with exhaustion.
One step. Two steps. Three steps.
I heard the drone again. It grew louder as it approached at chest height. I turned and dove quickly away as the drone barely missed me. I noticed what looked like the enemy’s flag on the drone’s underside. I didn’t give it much thought.
Rolling to my back, my chest heaved as my lungs searched for air.
Earlier that day, my squad had left on patrol. We were supposed to test the enemy’s defenses. Setting off shortly after sunset, we penetrated a few miles into no man’s land. Before long, we found the trap they left for us.
I suppose we did succeed in our mission. My squad-mates mangled corpses proving the enemy had plenty of defense left.
I got to my feet again. I had to move. If the drone found me on the ground, this ordeal would come to a swift end.
The drone swooped closer. Again, it came at me. Again, I dove away. My body aching from the pain of repeated impacts.
Placing my right, then left hands below me, I rose shakily from the ground. I had to do better.
I took a step, then another. Somewhere behind, I heard the drone again. It grew louder. Again, I took a step. My feet depressing into the mud.
Louder, the drone’s propellers chopped and bit at the air as they forced the craft forward.
I took another step. I came closer to the tree.
Louder, the noise filled my head.
I stepped again. I wasn’t close enough.
The hairs at the back of my head stood straight up. Was I too late?
Exhausted, I let my body’s weight pull me to the safety of the earth. My hair was tousled by the wind of the passing propellers. The drone missed my head by inches.
I let the wet mud drip from my mouth as I rose. Getting no further than my knees, I stretched my arms out to either side and raised my chin to the sky.
A screech like that of a dying animal leapt from my tongue.
Breathing heavily, my head tilted down. I could see the distant drone reaching the end of its arc.
“Hey!” I called out. “You robot mother FUCKER!”
I waved my hands.
“Over here asshole!”
I let a small smile cross my lips as the drone began to search again. It grew even larger as it became clear the drone had found me. Somewhere in that silicon mind, the drone had identified me as a person. It also knew I was a person to be killed. With machine patience, it began it’s attack with no less vigor or capacity than the countless times before. I resigned myself to the knowledge that not one human soul would carry the burden of my murder.
But, from the corner of my eye, I could see that the tree was close now. It was much closer than I had known - barely a few feet away. It was just out of arm’s reach. I rose to my feet as the drone sprinted closer.
Again, I dodged the drone. But this time, I fell into the tree. My body smashing against the dead, yet hard roots fused into the soil.
Through the aches and pains, I knew that something had snapped. I couldn’t dive away again. My hands felt the roots of the tree; they were callous and cold. I clambered up the slight slope to the fat trunk.
Standing high, I searched for my true goal. Grasping, I felt the dead branch that stuck out from the trunk. Yanking and tugging, I felt the dead wood begin to give way and snap. In the distance, the drone begun its well-practiced attack.
Snap. Snap. Snap. Each bit of the cellulose gave way.
The drone felt very close. I couldn’t see it, but the sound was as loud as ever. It rumbled my gut like a passing freight train.
Crunch. The branch broke free.
Swinging the limb behind me, my makeshift bat met its mark. The drone cracked and wheezed as it broke against the attack.
Completing the arc of my swing, the drone sputtered and spiraled chaotically.
Landing with a thud some ways away, the drone fell upside down in the dirt. The contact fuse of the payload failed to meet a solid surface.
“Fuck, yeah!” I yelped and gleamed, though no one was around to witness my victory.
I laughed as I let the frustration and exhaustion wash over me. I’d get to go home. I’d get to see my friends and family. I’d get to live.
Quickly, my mood drooped. I had to remind myself not all of my friends were still around. Most of them had died in the last few years, and a few more that morning too.
Peaking towards the crash sight, I saw the hunter drone was no longer a threat. The drone’s propellers sputtered and whined with resistance as they dug into the mud. Inert and damaged, I almost felt bad for it.
Utilizing my now liberated branch as a cane, I crept forward. My curiosity guiding me more than any common sense. I simply had to know more about this thing that wanted me dead.
A few hours earlier, while walking back to base after the initial ambush, this flying monstrosity had discovered me exposed and alone. Though I was able to dash and evade, it had taken every bit of strength to overcome it’s machine patience.
Making my way slowly, a strange feeling washed over me when I recognized the text on the drone. I hadn’t noticed it before. It was in English.
Keeping my distance, I took steps in a wide circle around the drone. Coming to the other side, my eyes grew wide with recognition.
Clear as day, I saw the faded red, white and blue of the American flag.
My flag, My side, My drone.