With Rook's body dug up and placed back on the sand, Maxwell quickly removed the ECHO from the corpse's belt and activated it. The screen flashed with a bluish light before displaying the stored items. Meanwhile, Benjamin, still breathing heavily from the effort, approached to observe.
"Let's see what we've got here," Maxwell muttered, his fingers working deftly to navigate the files. Meanwhile, Benjamin put Rook's body back in his tomb.
(Welcome back Alexander, wait a moment until your items are categorized.)
(...)
(1: Scorpion Turret x1
2: AR490 Glorious Havoc x1
3: 7.62x39mm 20-round box x10
4: 9x19mm 50-round box x3
5: MRE x5
…)
"Hmm... Glorious Havoc." Maxwell's eyes slowly drifted down, checking each item on the list before returning to the beginning, fixating on the icon of a gun with a fire symbol. Meanwhile, Benjamin seemed lost in memories of the man using the gun.
"This is Rook's favorite weapon, a fire element Atlas HMG. A capacity of 72 shots, you'll need a lot of strength to hold that gun." Benjamin comments, his eyes going unfocused.
"Fire?" Now that Maxwell thought about it, the Geneva Convention was a joke in Borderlands since almost every corporation creates and sells incendiary and toxic weapons, not to mention the countless heinous acts that are and will be committed by corporations.
It's no secret how Dahl treated his prisoners of war, forcing them to engage in dangerous mining operations on Pandora and leaving them to rot on the planet after failing to receive generous returns. Not to mention Heitor...
Hyperion would be following behind as he continues his excavations for Iridium and the Vault, and not stopping there, Hyperion carries out countless tests on the inhabitants of Pandora using Iridium. All this with the intention of awakening an ancient Eridian weapon to commit a huge genocide on Pandora.
Then there was Jakobs, Zombie Island was just the beginning of the countless biological experiments carried out by Jakobs. Even though the company was focused on making weapons with wooden finishes, that didn't stop Jakobs from trying to enter other fields. Jakobs' next victim would be Gehenna, and Maxwell was looking forward to visiting the planet soon.
"Max?" Benjamin shook Maxwell's shoulder as he saw the man lost in thought while looking at Havoc.
"It's nothing, just thinking about war crimes."
"What did you say?"
"I said we need to go and find a man called Dr. Ned. To get information about a claptrap unit, this man was responsible for the island's medical care."
"Right, but we'd better take a look at the Scorpion. There's not much 10mm ammo left, and I have to be honest it's a bad idea to rely on a gun that uses a caliber that's not as common as 10mm."
"The P2016 is just a stand-in, I was going to swap it for a revolver and an SMG, but I ran out of money at the time." Maxwell had plans to buy a B3 or Elite Wingman, both of which would destroy anything meaty in one shot, and a CAR as his primary, second favorite Titanfall weapon.
Removing the Scorpion Turret from its ECHO, the machine raises a cloud of sand as it falls to the ground after being fully digistructed.
*Bam*
The design was quite simple: a thick iron rod supported the entire unit, which consisted of a machine gun with a laser sight. It could operate in automatic or manual mode. It could receive attachments such as shields, ammunition replenishment, and a first aid station.
The Scorpion came with an SD that stored all the resources needed to make ammunition, as well as bandages and some metabolism syringes for emergencies.
Maxwell just wanted to use the Scorpion's forging functions, and with Benjamin's help, he made the machine produce more ammunition for his P2016 and rifles. The machine produced a little noise during manufacture, but there were no zombies in the vicinity.
Having obtained a decent amount of ammunition, Benjamin filled the magazines of his rifle and handed the P2016 over to Maxwell.
"Are you really going to use Rook's gun? No disrespect to you Max, but Rook was a mountain of muscle and you're skinny in comparison." Asks Benjamin when Maxwell doesn't pick up his rifle.
"It's my best choice, a fire gun will be a great help against the zombies." Maxwell knew that a weapon with a fire element caused more damage against the flesh, the effectiveness would be worth the effort. Turning his attention to checking the coordinates given by the claptrap on his ECHO, he would be paying a visit to Dr. Ned before leaving the island.
After a tiring walk along the sands of the beach to the east, they finally reached the docks. The sight was desolate —abandoned boats and house structures submerged in the seawater.
The infirmary was unmistakable, marked by the holographic badge in the shape of a cross that floated above the roof. Built of gray bricks adorned with green moss, the structure rested on the surface of the sea, supported by thick wooden logs. A rustic wooden bridge connected the cliffs of the beach to its welcoming entrance. The windows gave off an inviting orange glow and the chimney exhaled clouds of black smoke, signaling the presence of residents.
"Dr.Ned's bleeding heart infirmary. Better off red than… undead." Benjamin read the large sign, which was resting on a thick log that was lost in the depths of the sea. The last part caught Benjamin's attention.
Had the infection been spreading for so long on the island? It seemed that Jakobs kept things well under wraps, hoping to sweep things under the carpet afterward. After all, an incident like this could jeopardize the value of his shares. Experiments using humans were commonplace, but that didn't mean that investors liked them, as they could be the next guinea pigs, a not-at-all-pleasant thought.
"Ben, do you see that?" Maxwell asked in a whisper, pointing to the sky.
Benjamin looked up, his expression hardening.
"Rakks," he said, recognizing the creatures. "They're fast and attack in swarms. We need to be careful. Better to cross the area without attracting too much attention."
"We have no cover, I'm surprised we haven't been noticed yet. Besides, we've already made a mess back there, it's wrong, but we're going to do it anyway because I love a bit of trouble." Maxwell says as he pulls Havoc out of Rook's ECHO and starts filling the gun's magazine.
"You're getting too confident, Max, it seems that the Pandora air is finally driving you crazy. And it was you who messed things up back there, we could have followed the forest path, but you want to insist on acting like a teenager."
"But I am a teenager." Maxwell wasn't lying, he was twenty before he was reincarnated.
"You're not, I've seen your ID, Max."
"My soul is... *pfff* hahaha." Maxwell can't resist and ends up laughing, Benjamin would never understand what he was saying.
Benjamin just rolls his eyes, not expecting his companion to have a Peter Pan syndrome.
'If I'm attacked by one of these, does the secondary mission of not getting bitten count as a failure?' Maxwell thinks, watching the zombified Rakks with his magnified vision. The creatures, once inhabitants of Pandora's skies, were now transformed into grotesque monsters, with chunks of rotting flesh dangling from their wings.
There were three at the entrance to the infirmary, busy devouring a rotting corpse. Most were busy flying above the building.
Finishing the tedious task of putting 72 bullets into the magazine, Maxwell cocked the gun and aimed. His level in Trigger Discipline couldn't help much with the weight of the gun, which made his aim wobble a bit, but that only meant missing a few shots.
Maxwell holds his breath, Benjamin does the same as he notices his companion's preparation and raises his Atlas rifle, praying inwardly that all the Rakks are dead before they empty their magazines.
*BRRRRRRRRT*
"OH SHIT! HOT! HOT! HOT!" Maxwell's cry of surprise was completely drowned out. He had expected such a vicious recoil from the gun, but what he certainly hadn't expected was the intense heat when he fired.
*Trrrra* *trrrra* *trrrra*
*KYYYYA*
Benjamin didn't let up and fired controlled bursts at the Rakks on the ground, easily dispatching them and turning his attention to the Rakks that began flying towards them.
*Trrrra* *tic* *tic* *tic*
*BRRRRRRRRT*
Benjamin calmly made the change of runners, taking advantage of the suppression fire created by Maxwell's incessant bursts. He was inwardly impressed by Maxwell's strength to keep firing for so long.
In a matter of seconds, the Rakks were decimated without being able to cause any damage, a complete massacre.
After firing several bursts, the barrel of the Glorious Havoc glowed an intense crimson red, signaling the extreme heat generated by a fire element weapon. A snake of white smoke rose languidly from the end of the barrel.
"*Sigh* I'm starting to like the smell of gunpowder in the air after a gunfight." Maxwell inhales deeply with a tired smile. "But that smell of burnt flesh is new to me."
"You're starting to go mad. You're going to have to go through some psychiatric swabs when we get out of here." Benjamin comments, following Maxwell towards the infirmary, his shoulders slumped.
"Yeah, and it's not even a year since I entered this soldiering life. I should retire, how about starting a career as a singer?" Maxwell turns, casting a questioning glance at Benjamin. "What do you think?"
As they walk side by side, Benjamin replies with a resigned tone. "Whatever, if singing makes you feel better, then I recommend it."
"Right, *Ahem*, doooooo the bad thing, take off your wedding rin—"
"Shut up, what kind of fucking song are you singing Max?"
"Jealous of my fucking tuneful voice? Dude, I sing like an angel."
"You really... never mind, let's focus here."
Silence falls for a moment before Benjamin adds. "And as a doctor, I strongly advise against a singing career."
"Ooof." Maxwell replies with a feigned expression of pain.
Stopping in front of the door, Benjamin notices a piece of paper pinned up with the message: "Back in, never, minutes."
"What luck, the doctor isn't here."
"Let's check, on three, you and I will kick the door in."
"One! Two!"
"Or we could just knock on the door and see if anyone answers. Let's not scare the civilians."
*Knock* *knock*
"I don't think there's anyone."
*Knock*
*BOOOOM*
Maxwell didn't know what happened the next moment. One moment he was banging on the door and the next his body had been thrown through the air onto the beach, his body rolling in the sand until it lost speed.
A trail of blood had been left all along the way. A feeling of sleep came over Maxwell, his eyes beginning to close.
'Not this time bitch!!!' Biting his tongue, Maxwell felt his consciousness return. His trembling body began to rise, a strong tingling sensation.