Unknown - The_Growing_589064

“Thanks. Let’s just keep throwing these things till they’re gone.”

“The grenades or the droids?” Manny asks with a grin.

“Both. NOW!!”

The androids only now begin to return fire as grenade explosions surround them, taking down many of their number with the first blows. A young mechanic, Tasha Kim, cries out as a bullet finds the crease between her shoulder and neck. She manages to keep hold of the injured airman she’s helping, however, and eases him into the back of the APC just as another round misses her by less than an inch. She drops to the ground and reaches for her weapon, a service pistol that will do less than nothing against the androids firing at them.

“Is everybody in?” Tacoma shouts down at her.

From her vantage point, she can’t see much. “I…think so, sir!”

“Don’t think, Corporal! Know!”

“Y-yes, sir!” The air, thick with smoke and the stench of exploded charges, crackles around her as she struggles to her feet. Keeping as low as possible, she sprints toward the demolished APC, throwing herself to the ground once she’s behind the wreckage. Corporal Talbot is pinned down by heavy fire and is completely out of ammunition. “Are you okay?” she asks, shouting to be heard over the roar of the fighting.

“My leg! I think it’s broken!”

Kim looks down, but doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary, for which she is silently grateful. “Is everybody else secured?” she asks, eyes darting from one position to the next like a hummingbird in a field of Honeysuckle.

“Yeah,” Talbot gasps, trying not to writhe from the pain in his leg. “Menendez just got the last of them in his rig.”

“Alright, then. We need to get back to the Sergeant so we can get outta here.”

“I—I don’t think I can.”

“Sure you can. C’mon, Talbot. You can do it. We’ll go together, alright?”

With a wincing nod, he reaches up and grasps the small, strong hand reaching out for him. Using it, and his now useless gun, he manages to struggle to his feet. Flinging an arm around Kim’s narrow shoulders, he half-hops, half-stumbles back to the APC, white faced, sweating and praying like he’s never prayed before.

An open door suddenly appears before him, and he’s unceremoniously thrust through it, landing half on-half off the lap of a singed airman who’s none-too-thrilled with his rather abrupt presence. The others settle him more or less comfortably, then hold on tight as the truck lurches away at roughly the speed of a rocket launch.

In the cab, Manny hangs on for dear life as Tacoma puts the truck through its paces, his burned hands swathed in bandages from the meager first aid kit they’d found. “Are they following us?” Tacoma shouts over the roar of the over-stressed engine.

“Fucked if I know!” Manny shouts back, twisting his hurting body like a contortionist in an attempt to see behind him. “Does it matter? They’re on foot!”

“The ones we know about, maybe!”

Manny shoots his cousin a withering glare. “You had to say that, didn’t you. You just had to say that.”

*

Still seven miles out and hauling hell bent for leather, Tacoma stiffens at the wheel as he spies several vehicles heading his way at a high rate of speed.

“Aww fuck,” Manny grunts, slumping against the backrest. He turns his head to the side. “What are you grinnin’ at?”

“The cavalry’s just come over the hill, thanhanshi. Look.”

Manny leans forward against his harness, squinting his eyes to get a clearer picture of the oncoming vehicles. A jeep is in the lead, and on the passenger’s side, a tall figure stands, one hand wrapped securely around the padded rollbar. It’s a figure he knows, with long, inky black hair streaming behind like a war bonnet in the wind. “Dakota!” he yells happily. “Hot shit! Yeah!” His jubilance fades, however, as a second Jeep roars into view. The driver is also a figure he knows—and all too well at that.

“So much for sneaking in the back door, huh ‘cuz’?” Tacoma needles, grinning.

Manny flips him an abbreviated peace sign and slumps further into his seat. “I’m fucked. Well and truly fucked,” he groans.

“Have faith, thanhanshi. It’s not over till it’s over. We’ll play you up as the Hero of the Wind Fans. Get your sentence beat down to two weeks in the brig…three tops.”

Whatever nasty reply Manny is about to make is aborted as the lead jeep catches them, and Dakota jumps out before the vehicle has stopped rolling. Tacoma breaks quickly as Koda trots to his window.

“Is everybody ok?” she demands, eyes flashing.

“We got some burns, bad ones.”

“Fucking droid played suicide bomber on us,” Manny adds. “Took out one of our APC’s. Few dozen more of ‘em came outta nowhere and started shooting.”

“Did they follow you?”

“I don’t know,” Tacoma replies. “The ones we saw were on foot, so if they did, they’re far behind us now.”

Dakota eyes both of them. Unconsciously, they find themselves straightening into a position of attention, ache, pains and all. There is a commanding presence to her; a dark, roiling energy that they can almost see, hovering around her like a malignant cloud. “Get yourselves back to the base and to the hospital, best possible speed. We’ve got a few assault vehicles to escort you. Don’t stop for anything, understand? Nothing.”

“Understood,” Tacoma responds.

Her expression softens only slightly. “I’m glad you guys are alright. Now, take off.”

With a sharp nod, Tacoma does just that, throwing the truck into gear and rumbling off, the others in his abbreviated caravan following like ducklings. As they pass the second jeep, Manny winces. Allen stares through the windshield, marking him, letting him know in no uncertain terms and with just the power of her gaze that fighting the androids was the easy part of this adventure.

“Think it’s too late to go AWOL?” he whines to his cousin.

A bark of laughter is his only response.

*

“Turn down this way. We’ll come at them from the back.”

Following the direction of Koda’s pointing finger, Kirsten wrestles the jeep onto a narrow, rutted path—‘road’ would be a definite misnomer in this case—and shakes the leaves from a passing branch from her hair as she straightens the vehicle out. “Do you really think it was an ambush?”

“It’s looking that way,” Koda replies, lifting a hand to brush the hair from her eyes and mouth. “We’ll know more once we get to the site, though.”

“If you’re right, that means there’s someone on the inside.”

“Could be,” Koda muses. “But let’s wait till we know what we’re up against before we make any assumptions.”

“Right.”

Ten minutes later, they arrive at the site of the ambush, Maggie’s jeep right behind them. The Colonel hops out of her vehicle and takes a quick look around. “What a mess.”

“It is that,” Koda replies, squatting and sifting through the still smoldering rubble.

“We’re just lucky nobody died,” Maggie comments, squatting beside Dakota.

Koda pins her with a look. “We don’t know that for sure. Tacoma said they had some pretty bad burns.”

Maggie looks at her for a moment, then sighs, nodding. “You’re right, of course.” She looks over the rubble carefully, gingerly picking up several pieces of jagged metal with just the tips of her fingers, and turning them this way and that. “Well, what do you think?”

“I’m not sure,” Dakota replies, then looks up. “Kirsten?”

Joining the duo, Kirsten lowers herself to her haunches, her expression somber. “I think we’re in trouble.”

Dakota gazes steadily at her. “What do you mean?”