The Cold, Cold Ground.
[x]
"Fuck!"
Sean dropped, Anthy coming from nowhere to apply a bandage to his neck. It was just a graze. Nothing serious. She taped the bandage down and he nodded, coming back up out of the position with the Mulcher ready to go. Lambent and Locust. It was all out war on the streets. Gears were dropping everywhere, but his vision was too tunneled to care. He had Lambda Squad, and that was all that mattered. That was all he was trying to save. There wasn't any real way out for them, not now. They were getting as many wounded out as they could, but Sean doubted they were on the top priority list anytime soon.
He could hear Lucas behind him, trying to raise someone. Anyone. They needed ammo, they needed supplies, fuck, he'd take a crowbar to clear the dead bodies away for just a moment. At least the Locust were here too. That took some of the Lambent attention away from them. It didn't give them much of a break, but it was something. Nevada was next to him, and she was pegging as many headshots as she could. It was a good day for the record books and counts at least. He dropped down again, wiping sweat and blood from his face as he struggled to reload the ammo belts.
"Last box Nev. We gotta start workin' on gettin' out of here."
"C'mon Stretch. You know we ain't leaving."
He nodded. That's what she thought. Before he could stand, Lucas was worming his way up to his side. The poor rook had been taken out early, the bandages around his head already soaked through. He was pale too. But they didn't have time to worry.
"Just got off the wire with command. Last King Raven's coming in, it's picking up us and some stragglers. If we don't make that bird, we're not getting out."
Sean nodded, readying his weapon. "Just let me know when it gets here Rook. I ain't lettin' my team die down here."
They kept fighting. On and on. Anthy worked as much as she could, alternating between firing and patching up their small wounds. Nevada was out of ammo on the Longshot, and Sean passed over his last magazine for the Lancer. She was making it count. Even Lucas was firing again, the blood leaking from his bandages making him stop to wipe his face clean every few seconds. Sean was the first to run out. The Mulcher cycled, but no more withering fire came out. The big gun was down.
"Fuck!"
The only thing he had left was the shotgun. It was helping though, the fucking wretches were so close that it was the only thing to help push them back. Then, he could hear it. The King Raven. The whup-whup of it's whirling blades was like the voices of angels.
"Alright Lambda! Get ready to run for it!"
The Lambent were coming, but they were moving out. They were almost all there, some other Gears climbing on board, when he heard a soft cry. He whirled around. Anthy was down. Sean ran back, grabbing her, trying to carry her. She was holding her stomach, bright red blood pooling over her fingers and hitting the ground. He lifted her, feeling some bullets ping off his own armour, something cut into him, his body going hot then cold, but he didn't pay attention. He had to get her to the helicopter.
They finally reached it, the big man lifting the love of his life onto the floor, getting her in there. Nevada was still taking shots, still dropping Locust and Lambent, whatever presented itself. Lucas was getting the field dressings ready, trying to help Anthy. His squad was safe.
"We're overloaded! We can't take everyone!"
The words crashed down around his ears, like Jacinto sinking. Overloaded? Too many people. More than they thought. Not enough room. Someone heavy would have to stay. Someone big. And really there was only one man for the job. He crawled in, cradling Anthy's face in his own, his forehead touching hers.
"Gonna miss you love. See y' again one day though. Be happy."
Nevada looked like she was thinking about staying too. Couldn't have that. "You stay. Look after her, look after the Rook. And just to be sure..." He decked her as hard as he could, catching her sagging and unconscious body. Had to be sure, didn't he?
"You got ammo?"
The pilot shouted an answer, and Sean lifted as much Mulcher ammo as he could carry. Then he stepped off the chopper. And they were gone. Flying away. His Mulcher was loaded, in his hands. It was mechanical. He wasn't dying here. His soul was already gone. Flying away with his Ataahua. But he was going to take some of them with his body at least. He opened fire, and it was like he was watching them fall from a great height. Like he truly was in that chopper with them. His grandfather had once told him, that a warriors enemies would be there, in the afterlife. All those that he had killed, so that the other warriors would see him and know his strength. He didn't think that'd be so bad.
He could feel the bullets hitting him, feel himself fall. But he was watching from far away. Hands not his own, but attached to him, drew his pistol, firing into the crowded mass of his enemies. It all started going black. Bullets riddled his form, but he didn't hear them, didn't feel them. All he could hear was the noise of the King Raven carrying his squad away safe. Lambda's bad luck could die with him. That's all that mattered. Was that he didn't let anyone die again.
His eyes were fluttering shut, and every time they opened, the scene changed. Finally, the city was gone. He was on a beach. He walked forward, the now useless pistol dropping from his hands, the white sand feeling warm on his feet. He looked down in surprise. His armour was gone. He was wearing a piupiu and tatua belt, like he had worn in the old days, when visiting or staying at his grandfather's fishing hut. Speaking of... there was an old man, out on the water, paddling in on a board. Sean could see the tattoos from here, and knew who it was. It was his grandfather. He walked to him, too the ocean. His grandfather was taking him home. And one day, his Ataahua would meet him there. But not too soon. Not too soon.
