08-17-2016, 04:43 PM
In high school, Jay ran like the wind. There was no track team, and that was lame so he wouldn't have been on it, but if he had, he would have won every fucking race. Football saw him run till he puked, even as quarterback. Then, in the marines, he learned a new level of pain and realized he'd never really tried to run as hard as possible for as long as possible. The mountains of California cut new muscles that he tended, built, and worked until the day came that his body needed to perform like it never had before. Today was that day.
The armor suit gave him a skeleton on which to run faster and easier than humanly possible. He felt like his boots barely touched the ground, fleeing, no, flying across dirt, hurdling cars, sailing around corners. The HUD directed his path, and aim assistance gave a chest shot to every target that thought to stand in his path. He cut a bloody fucking trail through Freetown, until the fires of the Embassy darkened the sky.
He and Jared directed their squad to plow through the blockade of enemy troops. Jared was without his spells while his helmet was on, and the order that their only wizard remove it was difficult to give. But they needed every advantage. There were hundreds of soldiers between them and the embassy - and Natalie - and if two squads of battle armored Legionnaires hell bent on decimation, they were about to shit themselves scared.
"Rip them apart, Vanders!"
Jay yelled triumphantly as they entered the battle.
Explosives took out armored cars. Fresh gunfire cleared the field, mowing down the enemy force. Jay's ammunition was used wisely, but swiftly. He swapped in a fresh magazine, and advanced. Always advance. Never stop moving.
"I'm going to look for civilians!"
He told his team otherwise busy with chasing down runaways.
Through the old gates. Around the wall. There was the bush he once found the kitten. The building he barely remembered seeing for the first time when he was brought in after Ekene hamstrung him. Blackness swallowed him. His helmet filtered fresh air through the smoke.
He entered the building carefully. HUD gave him some direction. Bodies were in the main hall. Heat trails of an explosion filtered red on the display. Two bodies lay lifeless. Bio picked up heartbeats though. So unconscious. A third was coming to his knees. Jay had the sense that this was what firemen go through, deciding which victim to tend first. In the rolling smoke he couldn't see faces, or pick out slender, feminine bodies; blonde hair.
He switched his mic on, "I'm coming to help you!"
He called in case they could hear him, but his voice was unrecognizable through the speaker, filtered and mechanic-sounding.
He dropped to his knees to peer under the blanket of smoke. Even through the cooling systems of the armored suit, the heat of fire fanned nearby.
On all fours he crawled to the first body. An African woman. He clamped onto her wrists and yanked, pulled, and stood. The armored suit helped him throw her across his shoulder, but he heaved her weight anyway.
Dumped outside in safety. He went back in again.
This time the man met him halfway inside. He roared unintelligible language and pointed a gun. Assuming he was a Mende soldier, Jay attacked, kicked at him, disarmed him, and had him on his back in a minute. He deposited the confiscated gun away, and lifted his own firearm. "Your President Wallace fucking general Johnson is dead. I put a bullet in him myself."
He fired clean. Head, chest. The pounding of the gun echoed in the vast chamber, and Jay moved on.
The third body. Small. Heart beating. Blonde hair.
Natalie.
Damn it! It had been her the whole time! Heart racing, he knelt beside her lifeless form. The smoke grew thicker. He couldn't see the light of day, and would not know the exits if it weren't for the HUD marking his path. There was nothing to cover her face from the smoke, so he ripped part of her shirt, (and tried not to look at what was underneath) and wrapped it across her nose. Scooping her up, he ran for fresh air.
The HUD told him battle was ongoing, but dying faster than the loyalist troops. "Vanders. Come to me if you can!"
He laid Natalie outside, blonde hair splayed in the dirt, and knelt over her, wiping ash from her face.
The armor suit gave him a skeleton on which to run faster and easier than humanly possible. He felt like his boots barely touched the ground, fleeing, no, flying across dirt, hurdling cars, sailing around corners. The HUD directed his path, and aim assistance gave a chest shot to every target that thought to stand in his path. He cut a bloody fucking trail through Freetown, until the fires of the Embassy darkened the sky.
He and Jared directed their squad to plow through the blockade of enemy troops. Jared was without his spells while his helmet was on, and the order that their only wizard remove it was difficult to give. But they needed every advantage. There were hundreds of soldiers between them and the embassy - and Natalie - and if two squads of battle armored Legionnaires hell bent on decimation, they were about to shit themselves scared.
"Rip them apart, Vanders!"
Jay yelled triumphantly as they entered the battle.
Explosives took out armored cars. Fresh gunfire cleared the field, mowing down the enemy force. Jay's ammunition was used wisely, but swiftly. He swapped in a fresh magazine, and advanced. Always advance. Never stop moving.
"I'm going to look for civilians!"
He told his team otherwise busy with chasing down runaways.
Through the old gates. Around the wall. There was the bush he once found the kitten. The building he barely remembered seeing for the first time when he was brought in after Ekene hamstrung him. Blackness swallowed him. His helmet filtered fresh air through the smoke.
He entered the building carefully. HUD gave him some direction. Bodies were in the main hall. Heat trails of an explosion filtered red on the display. Two bodies lay lifeless. Bio picked up heartbeats though. So unconscious. A third was coming to his knees. Jay had the sense that this was what firemen go through, deciding which victim to tend first. In the rolling smoke he couldn't see faces, or pick out slender, feminine bodies; blonde hair.
He switched his mic on, "I'm coming to help you!"
He called in case they could hear him, but his voice was unrecognizable through the speaker, filtered and mechanic-sounding.
He dropped to his knees to peer under the blanket of smoke. Even through the cooling systems of the armored suit, the heat of fire fanned nearby.
On all fours he crawled to the first body. An African woman. He clamped onto her wrists and yanked, pulled, and stood. The armored suit helped him throw her across his shoulder, but he heaved her weight anyway.
Dumped outside in safety. He went back in again.
This time the man met him halfway inside. He roared unintelligible language and pointed a gun. Assuming he was a Mende soldier, Jay attacked, kicked at him, disarmed him, and had him on his back in a minute. He deposited the confiscated gun away, and lifted his own firearm. "Your President Wallace fucking general Johnson is dead. I put a bullet in him myself."
He fired clean. Head, chest. The pounding of the gun echoed in the vast chamber, and Jay moved on.
The third body. Small. Heart beating. Blonde hair.
Natalie.
Damn it! It had been her the whole time! Heart racing, he knelt beside her lifeless form. The smoke grew thicker. He couldn't see the light of day, and would not know the exits if it weren't for the HUD marking his path. There was nothing to cover her face from the smoke, so he ripped part of her shirt, (and tried not to look at what was underneath) and wrapped it across her nose. Scooping her up, he ran for fresh air.
The HUD told him battle was ongoing, but dying faster than the loyalist troops. "Vanders. Come to me if you can!"
He laid Natalie outside, blonde hair splayed in the dirt, and knelt over her, wiping ash from her face.
Only darkness shows you the light.