Season 1:13 ‘Dinosaur Jr’

by P WIlliam Ross

Ingot dodges out of the way of the rampaging beast and it crashes into the building next door. I think it was a specialty ice cream shop. Talk about rocky road.

Steam rises from the Rex’s nostrils.  It’s more like a neon vapor than steam.  The plates along its head and body glisten under the dim street lights.  None of us have moved from the front entrance.  It takes a few steps forward, lurches its head back, and then thrusts at us with a booming roar.

I think we can handle the Tyrannosaurus-Mechs better than we did Cougar.  This thing is just meant to intimidate us.  If we work as a team, we can take it down faster than you can say “meteor”.

“So I’m going to guess this is a robot and not the real deal,” Mach shouts over the harsh noise.

LED lights piped along the outline of the beast flicker on, giving an orange glow to its silhouette.  Gnashing metal teeth force us to spring into action.  Ingot breaks off a few plates from the tail and fires one back as a distraction.  It gives the rest of us time to come up with a plan.  A few people from the club have gathered in the entranceway to watch the fight.

“Brains, keep those people inside.  The last thing we need is to have them end up as a snack,” Ingot says.

“What about us?” Mach shouts after dodging an attempt by the robot to eat him.  Well, it wouldn’t be eating so much as it would be shredding him with metal teeth.

“It’s big, but we can take it.”

I turn and focus my attention on the crowd.  The music in the club has been switched off and the lights are back on.

Stay inside.

They definitely heard me, but they’re choosing to ignore me.  A mechanical dinosaur is far more compelling than a polite psychic request.  I have to think bigger.  I clench my fists and close my eyes.  A few deep breaths, and the deafness in my ear, clears the battle unfolding around me out of my thoughts.  I focus on the bystanders.  Then I give them one command.

SLEEP.

All of them drop to the floor; some hit the pavement a little hard.

“Nice going,” Ingot says.  I nod.

So far, Dragonette and Ingot have had the most success against the robot.  It’s slow and easy to dodge, but we still maintain our distance.  There’s a cluster of scratches near its right eye where Ingot has been hurling shards of the tail.  Mach keeps it busy circling around the club.  The one thing we really want to avoid is having it rampage through Stockholm.

“Jason, once I disable one of the eyes, you need to jump onto its back and take out the brain,” Ingot says.

“Yee haw,” Chase adds.

“How do I do that?” Jason asks.

“Punch through its fucking head,” Ingot says.  She pierces the eyes with a shard.

The robot roars and charges towards Ingot.  Sparks spray from the fractured eye which oozes some sort of lubricant.  Jason takes the opportunity to jump onto its back.  He grabs a hold on two larger plates near the base of the neck.  Ingot dodges out of the way of the rampaging beast and it crashes into the building next door.  I think it was a specialty ice cream shop.  Talk about rocky road.

It whips around to face us; its tail smashing the glass storefront.  Jason tears off a panel from the back of the head and tosses it onto the ground.  He punches through the exposed wiring and rips out what looks like the brain.  He hops down from the dinosaur as it comes crashing to the pavement.   The impact creates an imprint in the asphalt.  We’re the only ones standing on the lot.

“Nice work team,” Ingot says.

Jason walks over to rejoin us.  His knuckles are bloodied, but otherwise he’s fine.  The glow around the dinosaur sputters to darkness.

“I’d say this means our guy is definitely in the basement of this place,” I say.

“Let’s get him then,” Dragonette says.

“Guys can we hold up a second, I just punched the brain out of a fucking dinosaur,” Jason says.

“Dude, you’re standing.  You’re fine.”

We step over the sleeping revelers and enter the club.  The layout is very similar to the last one we had been in.  I’m kind of expecting another wave of robots to attack us before we can make our way down into the basement.  The DJ is slumped over his turntables, snoring.

Ingot descends the stairs first behind the booth.  There’s a dark corridor, presumably leading to a secret room.  She tosses an empty bottle down the hallway before proceeding.  No motion activated machine guns or lasers I guess.

At the end of the hall is a tall metal door.  Above it in red letters is the name “Einstein”.

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