Welcome Weekend Writing Warriors!
Follow the link above for some awesome storytelling.
Links to the beginning of this story:
The Burning Sky #4
A serial number or a name etched in its hide would be ideal.
The goggles were still around my neck so I put those on, and then my worn driving gloves from my back pocket. The tattered white underlet had no sleeves or collar; the heat had called for informal driving gear today, but I had a red kerchief wrapped loosely around my neck to catch the sweat. My trousers, tucked into knee-length leather boots, gave me protection if it kicked me, but if it went for my throat, I was done for.
Carefully, I picked it up. It made a sound between a beep and a squawk, and I almost dropped it in surprise. The mechanical’s legs began to move, to churn the air as if it was walking and knocked against my hands and arms as it did so. It wasn’t fighting me.