Urban Decay

[arvg]

The Coalition had a favour for the old and reliable. mechanical, wheeled vehicles instead of the skimmers that flitted through the sky scrapers of Manhattan. Bullets instead of laser weapons. And people instead of robotics. Which, given Pasha's current situation, wasn't exactly in his favour.

The BJ02 Jeep was built to be durable, Pasha ducked as one of the Raiders let loose with a hail of bullets, drumming off of the armour, and creating a line of spiderweb cracks along the rear windshield. The Jeep swerved around a massive crater in the road, careening up onto what had once been a sidewalk, flinging newspaper boxes off of the front fender, exploding into a shower of moldy paper behind him.

Wrenching the wheel back around he bounced off of the sidewalk and back onto the main street. One of the bikes, that had gone the otherside of the hole, bounded and roared up alongside of him, the driver sighting in with a magnum pistol, aiming for one of the wheels.

The Raider's were far from stupid, and they knew that as long as the Master Chief was mobile, they'd eventually loose him.

The shot went wide as Pasha shook his head, hauling the wheel over again, the Jeep bounding off of the road, crashing into what had been a pedestrian concourse, slipping on the marble pavement, as the bikes screeched after him. He had few options with which to loose the mob, and it meant using every advantage he had. Bikes were fast, more maneuverable, but the Jeep was tougher, more durable.

He lined the jeep up for the glass doors to the shopping mall and hit the accelerator, whooping a battle cry as it ploughed through the glass and steel doorway, exploding into the shopping mall, as the door frame tore the pintle mounted Kalashnikov off of the frame. The jeep spun around as the wheels struggled to find purchase on the highly polished flooring, the jeep crashing through an Estee Lauder booth, sending a fortune of make up scattering, as the bikes tried to follow him.

Four made it through the opening his Jeep had carved, while two slammed into the glass, flung headfirst at high speed through the glass. An age old lesson on wearing helmets while driving motorcycles like maniacs.

Pasha grinned, gunning the engine, as he shifted the Jeep into reverse, backing through the mall's main concourse, knocking aside booths and displays of useless fashion, a tie rack, and a rather expensive display of silver jewelry.

The Bikes were having a hard time, the floor was slick and each time they tried to accelerate, the bikes threatened to spin out beneath them. Pasha gritted his teeth, as he floored the accelerator again, ducking at the jeep crashed out of the far side exit, pulling on the wheel, bringing the front end around as he shifted into gear, bounding up the steps and out onto the street again.

Behind him, the motocycle gang limped out onto the street, watching their dinner skid around a corner, the high powered whine of the engine echoing through the town's streets.

The chef pursing his lips, and leveling his meat cleaver at a road sign that said "New HangZhou"... Though Pasha may have escaped for now, there really was only one place to go.

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