Nicholas Smith - The Biomass Revolution

To the east he could make out the shape of a Scorpion patrolling the edge of the highway, the gunner bobbing up and down as the vehicle made its way over the rocky terrain. Obi rested his back against the charred metal of the pickup and then crept along the pavement to the back end, once again peering around the bumper to find the location of the other Scorpion.

A fierce blast of wind ravaged his face as he stuck his head around the corner. The wind was picking up again, with rocks and pieces of dirt sailing aimlessly about. Obi knew it was only a matter of time before he wasn’t able to see five feet in front of him, and it was imperative he found the commander’s Scorpion before it found his squad’s location.

He crouched, waiting for the two Scorpions to make another pass before taking off in a sprint, hoping the swirling debris would disguise him.

Through the dust he could hardly see the outline of the third Scorpion. If it weren’t for the faint humming of its engine he would have run smack into the middle of it. He dove for cover behind the wreckage of another truck, his heart pounding in his chest.

Deep breath, deep breath.

Quickly he snuck a look around the corner of the truck’s deflated rear tire. He crawled underneath the bumper and maneuvered the rocket launcher onto his shoulder, waiting for the crosshairs to lock onto its target. He gripped his weapon tightly.

Patience.

Obi lay in the ash, reciting a customary prayer for the soldiers he was about to kill. And then, without hesitation, he pulled the trigger, watching the fiery trail of the missile streak towards the idle Scorpion before exploding under its brush guard. The crimson wave of heat blasted the vehicle ten feet into the air before bringing it back to the dirt in a flaming ball of fire.

The second the missile exploded Obi was up and running, the fire singeing the hair on the back of his neck. The remaining two Scorpions were on him immediately, their mini-guns spitting hot lead into the pavement around him, sending chunks of asphalt into the air. He tossed his weapon to the ground and brought his hands to his face, shielding himself from the concrete shrapnel as he ran past a charred sedan. The bullets narrowly missed him as they blew holes the size of melons in the ruined torso of the car. Behind him the ping of the bullets rang out, the white streaks of lead zipping past his head. It was only a matter of time before one of them would tear into his exposed flesh.

It was at that moment, when Obi couldn’t differentiate the howling wind from the bullets racing towards him, that the world slowed to a crawl. He watched as razor sharp bullets exploded out of Ajax’s assault rifle. The muzzle erupted with flames as his friend fired blindly in the direction of the Scorpions—first at the one opposite his position, and then at the one heading towards him. But the bullets had little effect as the rounds bounced off the armor harmlessly on impact.

Obi closed his eyes. He had never felt so vulnerable, knowing at any second a .50 cal round could tear through his soft flesh. The ping, ping, ping of bullets exploded around him as he continued to run, holding his hands around his face as bullets whizzed past his goggles. He was now within 15 feet of Ajax’s position, so close to safety and yet so far. He stole a quick glance behind him, to see the blue glow of the gunner’s goggles as he slowly trained his mini-gun on him.

His legs were now carrying him faster than ever before. The muscles stretched, pulled and groaned as he leapt onto the hood of a car and then into the air, before coming down on the concrete floor of the bunker. He tucked his knees to help break his fall, landing with a thud. Obi coughed into his bandana as a thick cloud of ash rose into the air.

Ajax stopped firing and slouched down onto the bunker floor, scanning Obi from head to toe for injury.

“How did I just survive that?” Obi yelled, laughing as he frantically dusted himself off and scuffled across the floor next to Ajax.

“Holy shit, sir, that was awesome!” Ajax yelled, as he stood to fire off another clip.

Obi coughed again and massaged his inflamed right knee. “Don’t waste your ammo, Ajax. We’re going to need every round we can get,” Obi said, bringing his wrist radio to his face.

“Creo, this is Obi. I took out another one of the Scorpions. Can you get a visual of the remaining two from your position, over?” At this point, Obi didn’t care if the CRK heard their radio transmissions; they were cornered and needed help fast.

“Negative sir, the dust storm is too violent for us to get a visual, please advise, over.”

Obi cursed under his breath, pulling his pistol from the holster attached to his right boot.

“We need to get the hell out of here,” Ajax shouted over the gunfire.

“I know, god damn it, I know, but Creo and Nathar are too far away to get a shot. I think we’re going to have to make a run for it.”

Obi stood with his pistol at the ready. Ajax followed suit, jamming a new clip into his rifle with a click. They both peered over the edge of the bunker and were immediately forced back down as a barrage of bullets rained down on their position, sending chunks of concrete into the air.

“Creo, Ajax and I are going to try and make it back to the rock formation. Can you give us covering fire?” Obi asked, slumping back down next to Ajax.

“Negative. Visibility is zero,” he said, an obvious quiver in his voice recognizable even over the static.

Obi paused, memories of past battles racing through his mind. Never had he been in a predicament like this: Cornered and outgunned. Sure, he was used to overwhelming odds, but a squad of Scorpions? No one in the TDU had lived against those odds.

Another barrage of bullets snapped him back to reality. He knew he needed his wits if they were going to survive. Reliving the past wasn’t going to help.

“Ajax, on the count of ten, I want you to take off out of here. I’ll lay down suppressing fire for you. Hopefully that will distract them enough for you to get out of range.”

Ajax looked over at Obi. His face was covered with a black handkerchief and his eyes were hidden behind his goggles, but Obi could still see the emotional strain on Ajax’s features.

“That’s an order, Ajax. Go!” Obi shouted, firing off a round from his pistol into the air.

“Roger boss, you get back safe,” he said, patting Obi hard on his shoulder.

“You got it, man, I’ll be back with you guys as soon as you know it! Now go!” Obi yelled again, pulling the pin out of a grenade and cooking it in his hand. He stood up and looked for the outline of the nearest Scorpion through the dust before tossing the grenade like a baseball. As soon as the grenade left Obi’s hand the wind took control of its destiny, sending it on a trajectory straight for the Scorpion closest to the highway.

He turned to watch Ajax strap his assault rifle to his back and shove himself against the wall of the concrete bunker, bracing for the impact of the grenade. Obi followed suit and put his hands over his ears. Before the gunner had time to react the grenade exploded in mid air, sending red metal raining down on the turret nest. The soldier was killed instantly as the red hot jagged pieces of shrapnel tore through his goggles and lodged in his skull.

Obi peeked over the concrete ledge again, squinting in time to see the dead gunner fall out of the turret and slump down the front of the Scorpion. A bright streak of red trailed his lifeless body. The blood looked almost surreal against the gray landscape, like an alien on a foreign world.

In the distance Obi could make out Ajax’s vague outline through the dust. He was halfway to the rock formation, climbing up a steep path.