Chapter 64: May Day Rescue (Anarcho, #4): Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten—Intersection

He was close—very close.

“John, someone’s shooting!”

Glancing up suddenly, John heard the sound of staccato weapons fire and stopped running. As he breathed heavily, the high pitched whine followed by explosive scoring echoed through the trees.

 “Yeah,” he said, glancing at his wristlet holo-display. “And it’s coming from May’s location.”

“They might need help!”

Taking in a deep breath, he doubled his speed as he sprinted through the forest up the hill.

 

Kyle leaned out from behind the thick tree and fired a burst of six shots. They screeched through the air and hit the scout bot. The machine whirred mechanically and exploded with a crack, leaving behind little more than a trail of hot smoke in the air as the slag went to the ground.

May fired off a few energy rounds, then paused, followed by a fusillade of weapons fire before Kyle saw another bot go down.

“That’s three down,” she said over their wristlet coms.

They were in sight of one another, but not close enough to share easy communication.

“Yeah,” he said, coming out of cover.

With his weapon pushed up firmly against his shoulder, he moved forward, keeping his ears open for scanner pings and his eyes alert for any signs of movement.

Even with a high tech wristlet like his own—provided by May and her people—scanners were not always reliable. They could be jammed or interfered with, or the wristlet could become defective.

Too much reliance on machinery was deadly—and Max and Staxx’s use of ballistic weapons were often a testament to that fact.

At least for the overlord lackeys we put lead into.

The hot slag remains of the scout bot had caused the underbrush to catch flame. They billowed softly at his feet as he moved forward.

“Advancing,” he said.

The coms unit chirped. “Keep your eyes open.”

“Yeah.”

Through his scope, Kyle had a thermal view of the forest. Everything looked rather fuzzy and hard to see, but a heat-projecting enemy would appear bright and yellow in his scope.

Above his main scope was a smaller site with a little laser dot.

He moved up behind a fallen tree. “See anything?”

There was a pause.

“Nothing.”

“They know we’re here,” he said.

“Lancet,” May said over the coms. “You done yet?”

His voice came back, the sound telling Kyle that he was somewhat harried and nervous. “Should be ready to go in about five minutes.”

The roar of the Strogaus shuttle filled the sky.

“Max,” May said, “We need to move—draw that shuttle away from the crash site.”

“On it,” he said as he moved up. He glanced at his wristlet. “Let’s circle around our north by cutting east.”

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“All right.”

Kyle saw May’s black shiny latex recede behind the trees. Glancing left, or to their north, he scanned visually and with his rifle tech one more time for any signs of enemy movement.

Seeing nothing, he sprinted after May, the weight of his rifle tiring him even more than before.

“Keep up,” May said.

Saying nothing, he increased his speed.

“I can hear you breathing over the coms.”

“Well sorry,” he said. “It’s not every day I have to run laps like some sports star.”

“I see something,” she said.

“What is it?”

“I definitely see something. Looks like a squad of Strogaus douchebags.”

She sounds like me.

“I’m coming!”

He ran, jumped over a protruding root, but his foot caught the thing and he crashed heavily to the forest floor, a grunt of paint coming out of him as his gun slammed onto the soft ground.

Shots erupted from up ahead.

“Shit!”

“Move it, Max!”

Grunting, he pushed himself to his knees and grabbed his gun just as a large green fern at the base of a tree rustled.

Bright lasers screamed at him.

They hit the dirt with heavy penetration sending debris into the air. Max screamed and fired his weapon full auto into the fern, using the lasers as a guided site while he rolled out of the way.

The sound of a BD-S unit cracked.

Coming back to his stomach, he stopped and held his breath, his eyes wide and his muscles tense as he fired another fusillade of screaming hot lasers into the fern, the dirt exploding and the tree bark smoking.

He waited.

The fern rustled and Kyle raised his rifle.

The Strogaus agent fell over onto the dirt, his face obscured by tech goggles and his body covered from head toe in combat boots and black BDUs.

The roar of the Strogaus shuttle overhead filled the air, the thrust from its engines rustling the trees with agitation. Debris got kicked up of the forest floor and into the air. Kyle raised his arm to keep his eyes safe.

“Kyle!” May barked.

“I’m coming—dammit!”

“Hurry up, I’m getting flanked!”

“Shit!”

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