To be fair, he hated a lot of things ' bureaucrats, inquisitive neighbors, domestic cats, warm cola and nerds all drew his ire reliably ' but most of them simply ceased to matter once he was in the Zone. Not so for surprises, however. It had been shaping up to be a really nice day, a quiet day when he could sit by the fire and enjoy a drink in peace... until they came over the hill and wandered into the derelict village that was his home away from home.
Of course that was before the bottom level of the small farmhouse erupted in front of him, the figure of a nugget bursting through the upper window, sprinting along the porch roof and flinging himself into what had once been a small vegetable garden.
Elias dived for cover behind an old Lada, keeping his rifle up trained on the farm house... what ever was in there had scared the dickens out of the Nugget, and since most things in the Zone were too big, too insane, or just plane immune to pain after the radiation had wrecked havoc on their nervous systems, that it could very well still be alive.
He decided to play it safe, shaking his head at the waste of ammunition, he sprayed the lower floor of the farm house with gunfire, standing from his cover and beckoning the nugget to get running, while he advanced slowly on the farm house, changing magazines for his last clip, cursing Nuggets and other things that were sent from above to give him a rotten day.
He was used to watching prospective Coalition Nuggets take their first steps. This was where the perimeter obstacles were thinnest, where men with nothing to loose crawled under barbed wire fences and through minefields. The lucky ones usually appeared at night or in the early morning, stumbling over the crest to the south with clothes and hopeful faces covered in grime, to be welcomed into the ranks of the Coalition Army.
Sighing he stopped at the body of a dead nugget, coldly dropping to a knee and removing the ammo pouch, feeling it clink reassuringly with full magazines.
At least one of his problems...
He'd spoke too soon as something moved in the wrecked lower floor of the farm house, and Elias didn't wait to figure out what it was, he ran for it, leaping what had once been a white picket fence, and running for all he was worth up the road.
Enrico cracked open an eye as he was shaken awake, looking up into Pasha's face, standing over him with a mug of coffee.
"My watch already?" he asked rubbing his face and clambering out of his bunk, pulling on a thermal fleece and taking the coffee, trying to shake off the fog of sleep that was like cotton wool in his head.
"We lost one," Pasha said as he followed Alvarez up into the cockpit.
Slipping into the pilot's seat, Alvarez checked the thermal scans, confirming that there were, indeed, one missing.
"What are these three?" he pointed to three new heat signatures not bearing recognition tags.
"They could be bandits, or some of our ground troopers," Pasha answered. "Though I am sure this one," he tapped the screen. "Killed our man."
"Bandit then," Enrico presumed.
"Yeah, but they gave him hell for it. Explosions from Miller's signal, and then this one..." he tapped the other unknown signal. "He opened fire."
"Well we should assume that's one of our ground pounders then," Enrico presumed. Entering data onto the TAC system. Identifying the Bandit and the Coalition soldier. "We still have this one, over in the village near to Warner's house..." he pointed. "Couple of the nuggets heading that way."
"We're still getting calls from regional HQ," Pasha noted. "Still garbled, the storm is very bad over their position... we still can't land there."
"Well it's going to have to wait," Enrico concluded. "I'm not landing the Social Credit in the middle of an anomaly storm. We're going to maintain our altitude and keep overwatch for now."
"Less praying, more shooting!" The jeep tipped up on a stump and rode on two wheels for several seconds before crashing back down to the ground.
"How the chamber do you expect me to aim when you do crazy stunts like THAT?!"
"You're a gunner, aren't you?" Fie onto potholes, said the jeep, driving straight over one.
"Yes, but you're a lunatic!"
"That's insubordination, you know! I could have you tortured!"
"THIS IS TORTURE!" There was a thud and a loud animal squeal as the jeep ploughed through one of Jiangxi's rare and endangered species.
"Honestly, you marines, buncha girls' blouses..."
"We're not... river river RIVER!"
"I'm not blind!" The jeep hurtled off a pile of rubble and leaped out over the rushing waters. The gunner weighed his options and decided now was a good time to start sobbing.
Miller kept running, not even activating his night-vision. He needed to conserve the batteries, and he knew they would be useless once he reached the ravine anyway. From one of the pouches on the backpack for larger items he removed what he needed to cross the ravine: a compressed-air-powered gun, designed to launch various objects over a large distance. The launcher was about the size of his AK-74, a long spike on the end designed to be planted into the ground to turn the launcher into
He left the AK-74 to flap wildly as he ran and wielded the air gun, loading the first object needed: a flare. He needed to reach the ravine, then he would light the flare and launch it over a distance. He needed to know if the other side was in range of the launcher.
Miller stopped five metres from the edge of the ravine. He could hardly see a thing, but he knew the flare would soon help. He pulled the fuse on the flare and it lit up, the sudden light blinding. He pointed the launcher at the best possible angle, and pulled the trigger.
There was a reassuring fump as the flare was launched and went soaring away into the ravine. He tried to remember where things were as the flare lit up the surroundings. It flew in a massive arc, Miller hoping that would give it the best chance of landing on another side. If there was one.
It turned out, much to Miller's despair, that there wasn't another side. The flare flew in its arc and landed on the ground of the ravine. So it wasn't a ravine: it was a cliff.
Miller took the backpack off his back and rummaged through. He found the load bearing harness, and a length of rope that could be tied to the launcher. He plunged the launcher into the soil, hoping the wet soil would be able to stay firm as he abseiled down the cliff, but be weak enough to give way when he tugged on the launcher. He'd probably need it again soon.
He made sure the knot of rope tied to the launcher wasn't going to come undone, then threw the rest of the rope down. He'd just have to pray there was enough to reach the bottom. The rope was two hundred feet long, a thin but strong plastic designed to occupy as little space as possible in storage.
He attached the harness to the rope, more to boost his confidence than to save his life, as there was no brake system to stop a fast descent. Miller would have to climb down the rope on his own strength.
He stared once more at the flare in the distance. It was starting to burn out, the rain shortening its burn-time from hours to minutes. He needed to start his abseil now.
With a sigh he put his backpack back on. Then, clinging onto the rope with all of his will, he began to move his legs over the edge.
He felt something tear into his bag. It was a sudden impact, a thump. Somebody was shooting at him. His night vision activated as he scanned around for the assailant. He saw a figure, and moved one hand down to his side-arm. He brought it up and fired. One shot, two shots. Then, realising there was no climbing back up now, he dropped his pistol and began his abseil. If it survived the fall, he could pick it back up once he reached the bottom.
[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.
' Wrote:Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.
A squealing, snarling pack of Rodents ' the name was applied loosely to these lanky jerboa-like animals ' swarmed around the foundation struts of the elevated pipeline that spanned the ravine. Elias walked along the top of the rusted tube undeterred, holding his AKM like a tightrope walker's pole. When it came to getting around the Wild Territory, the best way was the high way. It left one exposed to opportunistic shooters, of course, but few mutants had either the brains or the traction to hunt Coalitioners on the rooftops. Following the pipe's curve to the left, the loner left it behind and climbed onto the low roof of a onetime pumping shed. The sprawling maze of dead steel and concrete would be a good place to look for another Crunch if Elias were feeling adventurous, but he wasn't. He wanted to be somewhere else right now, and this deserted factory complex simply happened to be in the way.
Elias knew quite well that his following the Nuggets was extremely dangerous, but what else did he have? They needed the extra set of eyes, and he hadn't been so fired up in a long, long time ' the feelings of excitement and anticipation were strangely welcome.
His path took him across the roofs, around the mouth of a debris-choked underground garage and under the empty skeleton of an incomplete building with a no less skeletal crane tower still standing beside it.
Turning left and then right put him on the road to the abandoned city of New Hangzhou, a winding route which emerged from the far side of a wide underpass choked with Burner anomalies. These hazards were relatively trivial, being stationary and easily visible to the patient eye.
The happiness of making this find lasted barely a minute, however: emerging from the underpass, the loner saw a figure staggering in circles just down the road. It was a zombified Coalitioner, an unfortunate soul who'd no doubt wandered here from New HangZhou after suffering terrible brain damage in the powerful fields of radioactive energy which hung over the deserted complex overlooking the dried-up lake. In Elias's perhaps jaded opinion, the matters of the radioactive psi-fields' nature and origin were lesser mysteries than the way a seemingly infinite stream of Coalitioners came to that gloomy place to try their luck at penetrating the depths of the forbidden ruins. They all ended up the same: mindless shells in the dirty uniforms of almost any rank and faction, shambling aimlessly until they died of exposure somewhere.
If Elias were to approach this one, he would be able to make out the bloodshot eyes and hear the incoherent mumbling of meaningless snatches from the man's former existence. He would also find out whether the old-model assault rifle in the zombie's hand still functioned, a risk he neither needed nor wanted to take. There was only one thing to do, an act both practical and decent. Dropping to one knee, the loner slipped the AKM's sling off his shoulder, pulled the round knob of the rifle's cocking piece back and twisted it into the firing position. A single shot rang out, rolling up and down the ravine through which the road passed, and the zombie crumpled. Elias waited a minute to see if a second was called for, then moved on.
After some time Petko heard a scream through the rain. He took his Dragunov and and started to run towards the scream, thinking it was from one of his recruits. As he drew nearer, it became clear that the scream had come from a farmhouse near his position, and that explosions and gunfire were pointing to a battle somewhere nearby.
After several minutes, he reached the farmhouse from which the scream had come. He didn't enter, however, instead taking a position near the house and waiting for the killer to come again - whether to finish the job or take a trophy.
By that time, the fire from Miller's grenades had been extinguished by the rain. An hour had passed since the explosion, and Petko saw that there was nobody around - Miller was about two kilometres away from the house. Petko entered the house and saw the corpse, immediately realising it wasn't one of the creatures, but something worse. Unfortunately, whatever it was had left no tracks for him to follow.
Petko sighed and saw, through one of the windows, that someone had managed to get away. He quickly got outside and saw the tracks of a man who had apparently fallen over at some point before continuing his flight from the house. He decided to investigate, following the footprints to his quarry's position. When he saw the small figure of a man, he stopped and raised his sniper rifle. He aimed his scope and magnified: it was Miller, preparing to start abseiling. "You'd better move faster than that, Comrade..." Petko said to himself.
He loaded the Dragunov with the 15mm ammo and took aim at Miller, who had taken a moment to have a drink of water. Petko aimed and fired at the canteen, blowing it from his backpack. Sensing where the shot had come from, Miller returned fire, his bullets only just reaching his assailant due to his gun's poor range. Petko took a deep breath and lined up his next round. "I am not your enemy, comrade..."
He fired again, the bullet passing inches from Miller's ear and nearly deafening him. Miller started running at the source of the gunshots, but Petko had another problem: his Dragunov didn't had its silencer on and the rifle's report attracted one of Jiangxi's larger specimens of carnivorous wildlife. Petko didn't notice, still waiting for Miller to go to the bottom and leave his sights.
Petko didn't sense the creature behind him until it was too late. The beast roared and attacked, jumping him before he could turn around. Petko dropped the Dragunov to prevent the creature from eating his head and scrambled for his shoulder-mounted tachyon cannon. Somehow, he managed to aim at the creature's body and fire, blowing it away from him. Petko got to his feet and left a mark near the creature's body.
He sighed and headed for the nearest military base... unaware that Miller was also on his way there.
Something cracked outside a few seconds later another crack. Marcia was awake again, having the gun ready to kill whatever would be out there. She turned the night vision googles on again and moved some of the wood she placed above her away, to see what happened out there. While looking around she couldnt spot anything that could have caused the sounds.
She slowly crawled out of the hole, trying to realize even the slightest movement, but there was nothing. Nothing then trees and darkness. She checked the radiation meter, it still didnt reach dangerous levels. She sighed "Guess I wont be able to sleep again... And its definitely good that I dont have a mirror here, wouldnt like to see myself right now...". She checked the direction and just wanted to start walking towards south as she realized a liquid dropping down in front of her.
She looked up and saw the pig-like animal she killed, but there was only a part of it left, hanging in the boughs. Then something started to move behind the corpse, a bird, a big bird. It just seemed to have been able to see her as well and jumped from the tree towards her.
She pulled the gun up and fired a half magazine into it and once it dropped to the ground she started to run into southern direction.
She kept walking and walking, until she reached the worlds end, at least that was what it looked like in the first moment, on a second look it was a big canyon, the other side barely visible. The sound of the jeep stilled filled the air, accompanied by a few gunshots.
Vargas tried to spot a way over the canyon, but it didnt look like there would be a possibility, it was too big and as it seemed very deep. "Thats a problem... a big one" She decided to walk into western direction to find a place where the canyon wouldnt be that wide. Walking in a distance of a meter, sometimes less, to the abyss felt strange, but she thought it would be better then ending as some monsters food.
Another one and a half kilometer was made as she saw a glow in the forest, a house and as it seemed one with fire in it. It didnt take her long to make the decision to look why this house had a fire in it, so Marcia sneaked into its direction. She was just about to look through the window as she heard a cracking behind her, then she felt a gun in her neck.
"Look what we have here... a visitor, isnt that nice?" The mans voice sounded slightly distorted. She remained silent as he implied her to go into the house where a small fireplace generated warmth and a bit of light. "Sit down!" The man clothed in rags pointed at a chair in the corner after he took her AK. "Nice weapon you have here... wont mind if I keep it?" The man laid his rifle on a desk and pointed the AK at her. "Now... why are you here?" She looked for a way to escape, but there was no possibility that wouldnt have ended with her being shot. "I take part in a Coalition survival training here." The man laughed as he removed the rags from his head, showing his skinless skull, the only thing that seemed to keep it in its shape were the burned shreds of muscles. "I dont need surivial training... I survive and thats it." He seemed to be interested in her suit and came a bit closer. "Now... you dont need this suit as bad as I do. So hand it over to me and I wont kill you." Giving the suit away would mean dying, she didnt want to die. "Could you give me something to drink? Then you can have it." The man laughed and walked to the other end of the room to pick the pot up from the floor. "They dont even give you wat..." Four pistol bullets finished his sentence. Marcia sighed as she stood up to get her AK back.
While walking over to the mans corpse she saw a few sheets of paper on the desk with the water pot. One of them seemed to be some kind of a hand drawn map. She looked at it for a few seconds and put it into her pocket, while looking at it she saw 2 small lines on over something that could have been the canyon. One of them was pretty close so she decided to move towards it. She left the house with a smile "Thank you."
Every alert siren on the Social Credit went off at once.
Enrico jumped in his seat, knocking over his coffee, and he uttered some curses as he fumbled with the controls.
Like a shot, Vance was up in the cockpit, clambering over a console to press some buttons to shut off the sensor alarms.
"What the Frak was that?" Enrico demanded, trying to mop up coffee and fly the ship at the same time.
"Tacheyon discharge on the planet's surface," Vance reported, still kneeling on the rear console to reach the forward one, tapping switches and flipping knobs. "Localized in the region of our nuggets... alien technology... but I can't tell you more than that..."
"Tacheyon discharge," Enrico sighed. "That's gotta be Dimitriov playing silly buggers with his alien ray gun. Scared the hell out of me!"
"Yeah well, we're up now," Vance said scrambling into the gunnery seat, and slipping on his headset. "So much for sleep... oh we lost a nugget..." he sounded sad.
"Yeah well, this isn't a walk in the park," Enrico replied. "I'm taking us down for a low pass over the main road, remind people that we're up here if they're scared and want to go home."
The Social Credit dived, streaking low over the Zone, curling about as Enrico played with the pedals, using the cyclic to guide the gunboat down over the Ravine, it's flood lights lighting up the edge, zeroing in on some poor nugget clinging to the rockface in the rain.
"Oh fiver says he falls," Vance chimed in.
Enrico glanced at Vance, "you're sick, you know that? Let's keep him lit so he can climb down."
Record decryption...
Done.
Press any key to play the record.
Playback started.
No more signs of~ HOLY CRAP! *gunshots*
*growl*
*gunshots*
HA-HA, take it! *gunshots*
Like it, beast? *single shot*
Wow, that was awesome! Gonna look closer a bit... *footsteps*
Meh, what a disgusting creature. Gray skin with green stains, huge deformed head, short arms and one leg is thick as... Thick as something VERY thick and deformed too... I think that was a human... Long time ago. Huh. Gotta go. Pieck's out.
"Just the good ol' boys, never meanin' no harm, beats all you never saw, been in trouble with the law since the day they was born. Straight'nin' the curve, flat'nin' the hills, someday the mountain might get 'em, but the law never will..."
Vicenta pounded the dash. "What is this garbage? Honest to McIntosh, we got a choice of all the songs ever recorded and we get some toothless Libertonian with a banjo?"
Beside her, the gunner was clutching his assault rifle like a life preserver, whimpering and rocking back and forth.
"I mean, who chose this music? Can you believe that - ay Dios mio!"
The jeep abruptly plunged over the ravine Miller had been abseiling into, the gunner screaming at the top of his lungs.
Them Coalition boys have sure got themselves in a pickle, haven't they?
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