Breaker's Ruin (The Wrecking Squad Book 6), page 1
Breaker's Ruin
The Wrecking Squad Book 6
Nick Snape
Nick Snape
Copyright © 2026 by Nick Snape
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information please use: nick@nicksnape.com
First Edition
First edition April 2026
Book Cover by Getcovers.com
www.nicksnape.com
(No generative artificial intelligence (AI) was used in the production of this work. The author expressly prohibits the use of this publication as training data for AI technologies or large language models (LLMs) for generative purposes. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative Al training and the development of LLMs.)
Also by Nick Snape
Weapons of Choice Series
Hostile Contact
Return Protocol
Zuri's War
Finn's War
Alien Rebirth
Invasive Species
Legion Earth
Nemesis Earth
The Wrecking Squad Series
The Wrecking Squad
Butcher’s Folly
Warmonger’s Wrath
The Queen's Spawn
Emperor's Fall
Breaker's Ruin
The Scorching Standalones
The World in My Hands
Just Press Play
Warriors of Spirit and Bone
A Dragon of the Veil
A City of Ashes
A Queen in Blood
Praise for the Author
'A masterful voice in modern sci-fi’ ★★★★★ SPR
‘Nick Snape's creative storytelling, rich world-building, and engaging characters make this book an unforgettable journey.’ ★★★★★ Literary Titan
‘Stunning series. Very highly recommended.’ ★★★★★ Goodreads
‘Sci-fi with pace, heart and unafraid to tackle deeper questions of what it means to be human.’ ★★★★★ Amazon Customer
‘Wildly creative’ ★★★★½ Self-Publishing Review
For those who believe
Contents
Part One
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
20. Chapter 20
21. Chapter 21
22. Chapter 22
23. Chapter 23
24. Chapter 24
25. Chapter 25
26. Chapter 26
27. Chapter 27
28. Chapter 28
29. Chapter 29
30. Chapter 30
31. Chapter 31
32. Chapter 32
33. Chapter 33
34. Chapter 34
35. Chapter 35
36. Chapter 36
37. Chapter 37
38. Chapter 38
39. Chapter 39
40. Chapter 40
41. Chapter 41
42. Chapter 42
Part Two
43. Chapter 43
44. Chapter 44
45. Chapter 45
46. Chapter 46
47. Chapter 47
48. Chapter 48
49. Chapter 49
50. Chapter 50
51. Chapter 51
52. Chapter 52
53. Chapter 53
54. Chapter 54
55. Chapter 55
56. Chapter 56
57. Chapter 57
58. Chapter 58
59. Chapter 59
Part Three
60. Chapter 60
61. Chapter 61
62. Chapter 62
63. Chapter 63
64. Chapter 64
The Wrecking Squad Series
Books by Nick Snape
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Wrecking Squad Free Novella
Part One
Chapter 1
Almaar
The rubble slipped, tumbling down the pile to crash against a half-formed wall. Dust swirled about the ruins, while water ran freely from broken pipes, forming a pool amid the debris. A second section of shattered stone shifted, and a jawed hand burst from the pile.
“That daylight?” asked Arin.
“Yes, our glorious leader. Though a little dirtier than the last time we saw it.”
“Hey, Captain. Do you know how to sew a ‘I rescued our glorious leader’ badge onto a warbot?”
“Shut the fuck up and get me out of this hole. Fuck my legs hurt.”
“Copy that, Captain. ZZ3, open up and do a perimeter check,” said Arin, swinging below the warbot in a makeshift sling, legs dangling, while suit lights played against the upper section of the lift shaft. ZZ3’s elbow servos squealed as the huge warbot pulled the combined weight of bot, man and suit out of the hole. Rubble scattered to the side as Arin rolled out of the sling, grabbed his maglocked carbine, and swept the area while ZZ3 did the same. “Anything?”
The warbot paused, shifting up higher, stretching lower limbs. “No identifiable heat signatures, no radio comms. Static and interference that would be associated with a recent explosion but not the radiation levels expected if a large ship’s engines had blown.”
“Always a silver lining somewhere. I hate to ask, but the Ingblack?” Arin entered a crouch, taking his eyes from his gun sight to survey the devastation. He whistled low, a tremor to his lips. Almaar had fallen; there was no other way to describe the devastation. The shockwave from the impact to the north had ripped through the taller buildings, removed roofs, and crashed gables of those lower to the ground. What had been a nearly empty, preserved city had become a disaster zone in just a few seconds.
“Negligible. The contagion is airborne and lives for only a few days on bare surfaces. There will be pockets, however. Especially where people gather.” ZZ3 dropped back to its normal size. Its eyes swirled once, then landed on Arin. “I should help the Captain up here.”
“Copy that. I’ll stand on guard. Be gentle, she’s in a shitty mood.”
“I heard that,” cut in Rebekah. “You have a building land on your fucking legs and see if it improves your fucking mood. Hendricks, you go first. I can get in the sling by myself.”
The silence was deafening. Arin hadn’t had time to run a full diagnostic on Rebekah yet. The suit had held, just, but she was full of enough painkillers to knock Savvo out, and she was still going.
“No,” said Hendricks. She said nothing else; the words final. There was a battle coming, unless Rebekah was in better shape than he feared. “My spinal implants are firing on all cylinders, while your spine is locked rigid until we get you out and assess. Do as you’re told. ZZ3, sling.”
The warbot reversed and approached the hole, scattering debris aside, planting its feet a little deeper into the detritus before tossing the makeshift sling into the dark and lowering it. Stripped-down wires wrapped in soggy cloth; it was strong and reliable.
Arin focused on the immediate area, ignoring the slurred growls echoing in her comms. The sky was filled with billowing dust and soil, a near twilight that would be repeated across the continent to different degrees depending on where Srenik’s chosen sacrifice had struck. That they lived was testament to the size of the ship, or possibly one that had been broken up before it struck, spreading the impact. Either way, the attenuation on the laser comms would have gone to shit and affected the Butcher’s plans. Bought time for Shema and the outlying space stations. But how many had died on Almaar to achieve it? Survived the Ingblack only for their own people to land a bastard spaceship on their heads?
“Shit,” he mouthed, “can’t think like that. Not our call.”
“Arrrghhh. Gentle, you fucker.” Apparently, Rebekah was out of the dark and enjoying the twilight.
Arin waited, knowing there’d be an earful if he did anything else but be on guard until Hendricks emerged and they had a full complement. Another grunt from Rebekah, and the sling whiplashed against the rubble at the same time a building gave up the ghost and collapsed a few hundred metres to their east. He tried desperately not to see it as an omen, but it was hard.
“I’m up. ZZ3, hands off.” Hendricks’ fingers slid across the dust-filled stonework about the edge of the hole. Arin risked a glance back at the ornery engineer. She needed help; the climb up through the remains of the shaft had been tiring, their suits powered down to preserve battery. At least they could switch to filters up here; the Ingblack too big to find a way through, and the dust choking.
ZZ3 sneakily left a limb close by, Hendricks switching tack and grabbing hold, pulling herself out.
Evolved bots, huh?
“Finally,” said Arin. “I was beginning to believe you were taking a piss down there.” He felt, rather than saw, the glower; his barbs hitting home as planned. Keeping her sharp, away from the worry over Rebekah, whose moan rose in his ear.
“Stow it,” snarled Hendricks, and she appeared at his side. There was sweat on her brow, cheeks red, but it was the worry in her eyes that caught Arin’s attention. She tilted her head, indicating towards Rebekah. Arin nodded, a hand on her arm before moving away to kneel beside his captain.
The suit’s integrity wasn’t in doubt. No tears to be seen; the armoured plate scarred where the lift walls had collapsed inwards. Rebekah was unconscious, lids closed, eyes flickering back and forth as her lips moved. Drug-induced, he decided, and connecting to her HUD, ran through the diagnostics with a silent prayer on his lips.
Blood pressure was up, but that was on the amber list. Heart rate had calmed since he last checked, and the suit had assessed the rest of her signs as hovering in the same range. With a puff of his cheeks, he ran down the muscle and bone damage to her thighs. Deep bruising flashed up; trauma but no breaks. No signs of fracture. The hip, knee and ankle servos had locked solid, and despite the weight, ZZ3 had arrived in time to ensure her suit had kept those areas safe. Her shin plates, however, had disintegrated on impact.
“Gonna have to saw them both off,” he said with a grin. “You hear that, Captain?”
Rebekah mumbled in reply.
Arin let out a long sigh. “Dricks. No breaks. Minor fracture of the left tibia. I mean minor, so the suit can compensate once the swelling drops. Got a lot of bruising, mind, so super grouchy once we start reducing the meds.”
“We got enough?” replied Hendricks.
“For a few days at least, a little more if we scavenge each other’s suits. Battery power and ammo may be bigger issues.” Arin eyed ZZ3, who had taken a position to the north of the hole, scanning, he assumed, for threats amid the remains of the city.
Hendricks pulled up her carbine, resting it on her shoulder as she turned around. Her eyes met his, and despite the good news, they still contained a sadness. Was it for the city? The people? Perhaps the amount of sacrifice that lay around them. He had a quip handy and found himself choking on it, denying its viability against the enormity of where they stood. What the Butcher had done.
His drone pinged, its battered surface and cobbled-together propellers looking as lost as he felt at that moment. Recharged, he could send it up, scope the city from above, but he couldn’t face that nor what the images might do to Hendricks. Better to wait; use it as they tried to survive this new wilderness the Butcher had created.
He nodded to Hendricks, refusing to let the moment overwhelm him when a warbot loomed behind. Its arm spun, jaws clanking before they rested slowly on Arin’s shoulder. No words from the bot, just a touch that nearly broke the dam.
Hendricks puffed out her cheeks. He could see the steel return, that sense of duty.
“Okay, Private. We’ve got the basics to sort. Shelter, water, food, and a reconnoitre. We won’t be the only ones who survived, and I’ll be screwed if I’m gonna let anyone else die on my watch.” Hendricks’ eyes rose to meet ZZ3’s. The ex-captain seemed to drink the warbot in, her thoughts for a rare moment hidden from Arin. “ZZ3. I want an ongoing threat assessment. Analysis of what this bastard AI may be doing if any of it made it down here. Understand? And extrapolate as we gather intel. Keep me informed.”
“Yes, errm, … Dricks,” replied the warbot.
“And we need something to carry Rebekah. Get on it, you two. Now. Be ready in ten.”
A wind blew through, raising dust devils from amid the debris. It wasn’t a sign either, just their new reality playing tricks. But as long as he had his squad, his friends around him ‒ Hendricks at his side ‒ Arin had purpose. That was enough.
“Yes, El Capitaine,” he said.
“Not your captain, Arin,” she said. “Just your glorious leader until Rebekah is up and about.”
ZZ3 chuffed.
Chapter 2
Almaar
Gunfire. Carbines.
“Arin, unstrap me from this fucking contraption,” Rebekah snarled.
“No can do,” he replied, kneeling at her side, sighting into the valley of debris between two buildings. It was as if night had fallen, despite the time being late afternoon. Filthy rain fell. “You didn’t say the magic word.”
“I fucking order you to get me out.” She thrashed a hand at the buckle, but the makeshift sled’s design meant the strap ran across her upper arm and she couldn’t reach. Frustration built.
Arin grinned at her. “That’ll do it” Without looking, he stretched beneath the buckle and clicked it open.
Rebekah rolled onto the rubble, ignoring the bruises about her body that yelped in pain. With her left leg frozen, she leant against a broken bath to heave herself up, engaging her HUD. It flagged Hendricks up high to the right, and she checked her ex-captain’s feed. There was a drone ahead, sweeping the alleyway, and hints of another further back.
“The Butcher?” she asked, trying to drag her mind out of whatever painkiller shit Arin had dropped into her veins.
“That’s a dunno, Captain. Everything’s screwed up.” Arin suddenly swept west, carbine up and synced, scanning a side access to the hole they were in created by a slowly collapsing wall.
Rebekah reached for her own gun, only to find it absent, settling on her battered sidearm. Her HUD showed nothing, but she trusted Arin’s instincts above her own right now. “What you got?” A faint buzz echoed from the remains of a wall the second drone had snuck behind. She stared at the data dropping into her HUD. “Arin?” she queried.
“Yeah. It’s a kid’s toy,” stated Hendricks.
“It works,” said Arin, and the drone’s light blinked on, barely cutting through the murk. “But who’s on the other end?”
The drone dipped, once, twice, spinning about to aim along the valley where they were originally heading. Arin tensed, his finger on the trigger when he seemed to change his mind. “I don’t think it’s the Butcher.”
“Not unless he’s really desperate. Where’s ZZ3?”
“On our six. Why?”
“I could do with a lift,” she replied, tapping the frozen leg, and she connected to the warbot.
“Threat level is low,” stated the bot. “On my way.”
The drone bobbed and weaved as if impatient, and by the time ZZ3 had her in a comfortable position, the green battery light in its undercarriage had shifted to a worrying orange. Hendricks had clambered down, a sour look to Rebekah an indication she wasn’t happy she was up and about. But there was no way, despite the level of bruising and the inconvenience of a shin fracture, she was about to be dragged about the ruins of the capital. She could just about cope with being carried, face forward, legs resting on the warbot’s arm limb.
“The first drone has disappeared,” said Hendricks, pointing to the one that now spurted ahead. “Reckon it’s the same type. Dipped into the red.”
“Then we’d better get moving,” said Rebekah. She looked at Hendricks. “Your show.”
“As if you can let go,” Hendricks replied, a half-grin on her lips. “Where do you want me?”
Hendricks was right, of course. She couldn’t. “On our six, Arin on point.”
“Copy that. You heard her, Senior Tech. Get your arse out front and keep that head out of the firing line.” Hendricks clambered down and headed for the rear, eyes sweeping the rubble, while Arin stepped ahead, taking point.
He hurried after the drone, trying not to lose it amid the destruction, while ZZ3 maintained a steady distance six metres behind. In a war zone, they were vulnerable from on high; valleys like this were often the easier route and ripe for ambush. But they’d all caught the urgency in the drone, the way it bobbed while waiting for them to catch up. This wasn’t a trap, and if it was, ZZ3 was here.
Arin took a right, climbing over the remains of an office. A desk strangely intact sat on top, a mangled chair on its side, blood splashes from its last occupant upon the seat. ZZ3 strode on past, keeping Rebekah lower than its line of sight, and therefore out of the firing line should the warbot encounter any threats. By the time they crested the rubble, Arin was kneeling on cracked tarmac, scratching his head as the drone lay in pieces upon a smashed kerbstone.
