George
easily spotted a machinegun sticking out of the top of some rocks.
From there, he easily made out the buggy the weapon was attached to,
though he could not see the gunner. The gun was firing at Tricia's
power armor.
The
Vixen had crouched behind a rock for protection and had a shielded
arm up to protect her head. She tossed another smoke grenade to
provide herself with more cover.
Most of
the vehicle was behind cover so George doubted that he could hit it.
Instead, he tried aiming for the weapon. A few of his shots knocked
the gun's aim, giving Tricia a chance emerge from the cover of smoke.
She sprinted the distance to the light vehicle.
Once the
armored Vixen was among the rocks, the wasters sheltered there were
in trouble. Tricia easily wreaked havoc with her pneumatic pike and
enhanced strength.
"Keep
the armors off me!" Tricia requested.
"This
walking can's mine," Mabel claimed.
George saw the power armor marching in Tricia's direction. Before he
could train his gun on the armor, he heard a crack. The armor jerked
in response. He guessed that the Vixen sniper was hitting vulnerable
parts of the armor to slow it down.
The
armor twisted in the direction of Mabel's window, aimed an
arm-mounted gun and fired. George turned his gun on the armor but
resisted pulling the trigger when he noticed Tricia springing out of
the rocks.
Tricia
drove her pneumatic pike into the midriff of her opponent. Her weapon
discharged a sharpened spike into her target, piercing through thick
plate into vulnerable circuitry and systems within. She continued to
savage the critical systems of her opponent.
"The
other armor!" Tricia called out. It was a wonder that she kept
track of her surroundings.
George
looked around for the other power armor. However, Iona found it
first. She leaped onto the metal warrior, knocking it to the ground.
Then she started scratching furiously with claws. Somehow, her claws
were able to rip pieces of protective plates off her victim.
The boy
had no time to watch, though. For at that very moment, a spray of
bullets hit his shield. George turned the gun around onto the source
- another light vehicle from which a mounted machinegun and armed gang
members were firing at him.
He was
in danger! Fast moving pieces of metal, alloy and ceramic were flying
all around him. His safety was threatened and he was allergic to
pain. He had to make them stop!
George
fired wildly. He was not sure if he was hitting anything. He could
not see with all the sparks and shrapnel flying around him. His
shield took a lot of hits. Bits of the shield broke off and scattered
past him.
In his
excitement, George squealed. It was that high-pitched girlie sort of
squeal but he did not care. He was in an exciting gamble for his
life. At anytime, he could get hurt or his opponents could stop
firing.
Bullets
were still flying past him. The shield was breaking up. He was sure
at least a couple of bullets did hit him. But since he did not feel
any pain, he assumed that his armor held. It was a contest to see who
would last till the end.
The gang
gave up first - they abandoned the vehicle. A moment later, there was
a disappointingly small explosion at the back of the buggy and fire
started to engulf the vehicle.
George
let out one final high-pitched cry, one of victory! He had survived!
"Squirt!"
Tricia called over the radio, interrupting his celebration, "I
need some support here!"
There
were few wasters left to shoot at. Seeing their comrades being
smacked around by a Vixen in power armor or savaged by an armored
panther was enough to unnerve most of them. Once the first few turned
and ran, others started to follow.
Soon,
they were all running away, on foot or on the remaining two buggies.
"Squirt,
pack up and let's go!" Tricia ordered, "Quick, before they
regroup."
George
removed the machinegun and its ammo box carried them downstairs. The
equipment was heavy without Tricia's help but adrenaline from the
excitement of battle gave him strength.
Mabel
dashed past him and reached the transport first.
George
dropped his equipment and Mabel's into the back of the transport
while the sniper started the vehicle's engine.
Then
Tricia came in with a few pieces of souvenir - a few weapons, pieces
of armor, and one vehicle engine. George had to clear some space in
the back cargo area. He moved some of the equipment into the
passenger cabin in the middle.
"Why'd
you take the engine!?" Mabel exclaimed from the driver's seat,
"Laura's not here to make anything of it."
"Habit.
Maybe we can sell it for scrap," Tricia replied as she stuffed
the engine in the back. "Squirt, close the door. You'll have to
secure the engine with straps later."
"What
about Iona?" George asked as he hit the button to close the
transport's back door.
"We'll
pick her up later," Mabel said, "And you might want to do
something about your fashion."
"My
what?" George looked down at his outfit. He was horrified to
find that his coat had been torn in the fight. Pieces of his damaged
effeminate armor could be seen. He hurriedly looked in the cargo for
something he could use as a cloak.
Hopefully,
no one else had noticed.
Once
Tricia had entered through the side door of the transport, they were
off for home.
***
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