The sun’s rays warmed Block’s metallic frame. Autumn had come, and he watched as Fenn and Sweep worked in tandem harvesting pumpkins, turnips, and zucchini. The task was simple, a far cry from the previous months’ battle against the dangerous Rovers.
“Who would’ve thought,” Sweep’s voice carried on the breeze, “that two CleanerBots would end up as FarmBots?”
Fenn, never missing a beat, shot back, “You never know. At this rate, you might end up replacing the goats next.”
Sweep paused in the middle of uprooting a pumpkin the size of her head. “Mr. Fenn, it’s physically impossible for me to emulate the goats. For one thing, their bodily functions, such as producing milk—”
“I’m joking, Sweep.” Fenn tipped his wide-brimmed hat back and wiped sweat from his brow.
Sweep looked at Block. She was still adjusting to being in the presence of humans and robots who acknowledged her. Humor was a new concept. Block was her mentor, teaching her about life outside the office skyscrapers she’d worked in. He found the companionship of another CleanerBot pleasant.
They’d built something valuable here. The farm, once a temporary safe haven, had transformed into their home. The echoes of children’s laughter and shared meals around the broad outside dining table made every day fun. Now that the Rovers were gone and the Chicago SoldierBots had mostly been destroyed, they had time to be more relaxed.
Block looked down at his hands, once meant only for cleaning, now grabbing a yellow squash from the ground. The soil was rough, and dirtied his metal palms, but he could clean up later.
The vegetables they plucked held more than just the promise of a harvest; they symbolized their collective determination to keep moving forward. Block was where he needed to be—not just a CleanerBot but a protector, a friend, and a father. All part of something greater.
Under the warmth of the afternoon sun, Block leaned down to cut loose a particularly heavy pumpkin. Across the farmstead, the sound of laughter carried on the breeze, and he caught movement in his periphery.
Shadow was at the heart of it all. The black fur on her Rover hide glistened. She loomed over the children who ran in awkward, messy circles as they tried to keep up. Wally was strapped into a saddle on Shadow’s back, her delighted giggles filling the air.
“Fly me, Shadow. Fly!” Her tiny arms were outstretched as if she was a bird rocketing through the sky.
“You’re flying.” The electronic hum of Shadow’s words tinged with affection. “You’re as swift as an eagle.”
Block hoped Shadow was being careful not to go too fast. Maxwell had fashioned a small saddle from an old one in Fenn’s barn. He’d made it small enough for the toddlers to use and added safety features like a seat belt. Ever since, rides on Shadow’s back were all any of the kids could talk about.
Wally’s laughter echoed across the field, bright and clear. Sweep stood nearby, watching the kids. “I like it here,” she said.
Block had Nova to thank for finding Sweep, and from the sounds of it, she’d saved Sweep’s life along with thirty or so other robots. They’d hidden in an underground train car when the EMP detonated. Afterward, the robots were given a choice as to what they wanted to do. Some decided to venture outside of Chicago and explore the country, while others volunteered to live and work the farms adjacent to Fenn’s. The Chicago Defenders needed a food supply. About ten stayed behind to help Nova and the rebels recruit other robots in and around the city.
Shadow carried Wally back toward the farmhouse with the other children trailing behind them like a cheerful parade. The rumble of an engine cut through the peaceful lull, drawing Block’s attention to the gravelly road leading to the house. Dust kicked up in the air, settling gradually as a blue SUV parked. Nova stepped out from the driver’s side. She’d cropped her long brown hair and tucked it behind her ears. She wore jeans and a red Chicago Bulls T-shirt, more casual than he’d ever seen her look.
“Nova!” Block dropped his tools and made his way toward her. She grinned, and they embraced. Nova was safe and well.
She broke their hug and clapped him on the shoulder as she looked around at the barn and home. “You’ve done well here, Block.” She stood back and did a double take. “What’s that? Dirt on your hands?”
“Some things have changed, and thank you,” he said. “It’s been a team effort to get the farm in shape.”
Together, they took a stroll around the property with Block pointing out the renovations and the thriving crops, and he introduced her to Garnet and Fenn.
Sweep ran up to Nova and asked politely for a hug. “Come here.” Nova grabbed her and pulled her close.
Block had never seen Nova smile so much. “You’ve created something wonderful here, Block.”
“How are things with you? Can you stay awhile? Wally would love it.”
A frown crossed her features before vanishing as fast as it had come. “We’re making progress. With the SoldierBots no longer a threat, the city is uniting like never before.” She hesitated as if leaving something out. “Sorry, I can’t stay. Where is Wally anyway?”
“Getting a ride from Shadow, much to the dismay of every other child here.”
Nova halted in the field where they walked when she caught sight of Shadow. “I’ll never get over the look of that robot.” She shook her head. “You’re sure it’s safe for Wally?”
“Shadow’s one of us. She and Wally have a bond.” Other than Block himself, Shadow was the robot most protective of Wally.
As they walked past the vegetable garden, he told Nova about his encounter with Raze. He shared his decision to let her go, choosing empathy over violence. “It wasn’t easy, but it was the right thing.”
Nova nodded. “That’s why you’re different, Block. I think you’ve always been more than a CleanerBot. You’re a leader. Look at how you’ve protected Wally all this time. And now you’ve given this place something that can’t be programmed—a heart.”
Block processed her words, turning over the magnitude of what she’d said in his logic module. Was it true? From the assembly line where he’d been crafted, to Chicago, New York, and then full circle back to an Illinois farm, he’d journeyed far from his origins. He’d learned, adapted, and fought for his and Wally’s lives. He was still a CleanerBot, and then some.
The serenity of the moment was shattered by the unmistakable roar of an engine—a deep rumbling that stoked alarm from G5 standing guard in the watchtower.
But it was a sound familiar and very dear to Block. “It’s okay,” he yelled to G5. A trail of dust marked the approach of the eighteen-wheeler along old Route 14. The familiar silhouette of Number 21, the autonomous semi and Block’s longtime friend, came into view.
“Looks like you have more visitors.” Nova’s lips curved into a smile.
Block buzzed with anticipation. “It seems so.” They’d returned sooner than expected.
As the truck came to a stop in the yard, its side door slid open, revealing Cybel’s elegant black steel frame and Oxford’s twelve-foot-tall Mech body with his bright yellow armor. He’d gotten an extensive polishing and repairs done somewhere along the way. They were finally home.
Before long, Emery, Fenn, and the curious children poured out of the barn and the farmhouse, their chatter and excitement filling the air.
Spoon, clutching a baby girl in his arms, waved enthusiastically. “Welcome back, Oxford and Cybel.”
Shadow, usually guarded, had a noticeable lightness in her movements as she bowed down so Sweep could unbuckle Wally and set her on the ground. Even the typically standoffish Vacuubot hovered closer, its lights flashing in a buzzy greeting.
Block made his way toward the group, the gravel crunching under his feet. As he approached Number 21, a familiar connection pulsed in his core. “Welcome back, Twenty-one.” He patted the semi’s side panel.
“Good to be back, Block.” 21 said.
There was laughter, stories exchanged, and a sense of relief from the traveling robots.
“Let’s eat,” Emery said after a while. She kept the kids on a routine eating schedule to keep their moods in check.
As dusk settled, a soft golden light from the barn spilled across the large picnic table set in the yard. Block, Nova, and the others gathered around, watching as the children tucked into a well-deserved dinner.
Cybel and Oxford, now dust-free and powered up, held court at one end of the table. The children were remarkably quiet as they stared at Oxford’s tall form. They’d never seen a robot so massive. Block, seated next to Nova, found himself hanging on every word.
“The east is different than what we expected,” Cybel said. “Mach X’s grip is not as tight as it used to be.”
Block’s focus sharpened. “What do you mean?”
“The SoldierBots are dwindling,” Oxford said. “It appears that a new faction of robots has risen. They’re not like us, but they’re also not under Mach X’s control.”
Vacuubot buzzed overhead, its sensors glowing brighter.
“Are they allies?” Nova asked.
“We don’t know yet,” Cybel admitted. “They seem to have their own agenda. But they’ve been causing trouble for Mach X’s forces.”
Nova leaned in, her gaze intense. “This could be a game-changer.”
“Yes,” Cybel agreed. “But we need to tread carefully. Not all who oppose Mach X are friends.”
Emery had been silent until then, chewing her food and listening with care. She spoke up. “He’s damaged or dead. If he hasn’t attempted contact with Shadow, and the SoldierBots are faltering, it has to mean he’s beyond repair.”
“I wish we knew for sure,” Nova said.
The conversation ebbed and flowed, their speculations and strategies weaving a tapestry of possibilities. Yet amid the uncertainty, the news from the east brought them a sense of hope. Their stand against Mach X had not been in vain.
Block looked around at his chosen family—Nova’s cheeks lit by the warm glow from candles, Wally asleep in his arms, Shadow’s muzzle nestled against his foot. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, there was a sense of peace. Being together meant everything. Unity was their most potent weapon.
“We have to try and ally with the rebel bots in the east,” Cybel said. The silence that followed hung heavy in the air.
She’s right. Vacuubot messaged Block. Cybel usually is.
Nova spoke first. “If there’s a chance this new faction could help us make sure Mach X and his SoldierBots are destroyed, we should explore it.”
Oxford nodded. “It won’t be easy. And there’s a risk, as always. We’ll back you up.”
Block’s optical sensors stayed fixed on Nova. There was worry etched into his processor’s logic circuits, but he understood the weight of Nova’s drive to form an alliance. He’d seen her brave dangerous situations countless times before.
“I know.” Nova’s voice was firm. “But it’s a risk I’m willing to take. For us, for the children, and”—she looked at Sweep—”for all the robots still chained under Mach X’s control.”
There was a collective hum of agreement around the table. Under the table, Nova squeezed Block’s hand in hers. Despite her fears, she was ready to take on a daunting task for the greater good. It was what made her who she was—a leader.
Number 21 flashed his headlights from thirty feet away where he sat parked. “I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. If it’s east you’re heading, Nova, I’ll get you there.”
The reality of the situation sank in for Block. Nova was about to embark on another stride toward freedom. But this time, the battlefield was much larger, and the future—if they won—was brighter than it had ever been.
In the deepening twilight, Emery announced a diversion. She unfolded a set of paper lanterns she’d been saving for a special occasion. Wally and the kids gathered around her, their eyes wide with excitement as she explained the process.
“We’re going to write down our wishes, and then we’ll set these lanterns into the sky.” Emery handed out crayons and scraps of paper. “Kids, draw a picture.”
Wally was the first to doodle her wish. She sat in Emery’s lap as she scrawled onto the rough paper. “Shadow and Daddy,” she declared and tossed her crayon away. Her rendering of Block and Shadow was a cartoonish sketch of two stick figures that made Emery chuckle and Shadow wag her tail.
One by one, they each drew out or wrote down their wishes. Block watched, a gentle heat coursing through his circuits as he took in the scene. When it was his turn, he carefully took the pen in his metallic grip. The words came to him easily. “For the continued strength and protection of our family,” he wrote.
They ignited the lanterns one by one, their soft light illuminating the faces of the unconventional gathering. The robots, adults, and kids watched in silence as the lanterns floated higher, their glowing forms receding into the darkness.
They watched until the last lantern was a mere speck in the night. Block knew their journey was far from over, and the path ahead contained unknown dangers. But standing under the starlit sky, watching their wishes fly to the heavens, he knew they were ready to face whatever lay ahead.
The farmstead, bathed in moonlight, was peaceful. The chatter that had filled the evening was replaced by the tranquil sounds of the night—the rustling leaves, the distant hoot of an owl, the soft snores of the five sleeping toddlers who had curled up on a blanket next to Shadow.
Block scanned the familiar faces around the table. There was Dr. Emery, her face softened by the moonlight, eyes sparkling with a rare peace as she sipped a glass of merlot that Fenn had retrieved from his cellar. Wally, fast asleep against Shadow’s neck, the remnants of her wide grin still present even in slumber. Shadow’s mechanical tail softly swaying as she kept a vigil over the children. Cybel, Oxford, Fenn, Maxwell, Forge and Vacuubot, each caught in conversations or lost in their own logic processing.
And then there was Sweep, who’d found a new purpose in farm life. She’d seamlessly integrated into their newfound family and was a welcome addition.
Each of them had their unique stories and individual paths that had led them to this night. And now they were a part of something larger. Something worthy. They were no longer just bots on the run or a disconnected group of survivors. They were a family—a pack.
As he settled into his nook inside the barn and powered into standby mode for the night, Block’s final thought for the night was simple. We are a pack, and this is our home. Tomorrow, we build our future.
Block’s story continues . . .
Dear Reader,
Thanks for reading the Rusted Wasteland series! The next book in the series is Steel Legacy.
Have you read Block’s journal logs from Chicago? You’ll discover what happened in the days before the Uprising and how the aftermath affected him and others at the hotel.
You can download STEEL APOCALYPSE (A Robot’s Journal) for free by visiting: CameronCoral.
Enjoy,
Cameron Coral
P.S. - Did you enjoy this book? I’d love a review wherever you purchased this book if you have a few minutes. Thank you kindly because reviews mean a lot to me. They show me you want me to keep writing, and they help other readers discover my books.