undoubtedly spot me, I decided to play my ace in the hole. The last four gunmen were trying to reach the two wounded who still lay where I had shot them, bleeding out and begging for help. Once they were sufficiently close together to suit my intentions, I took out my grenade, pulled the pin, counted to two, and then let it fly.
I played pitcher for my high school baseball team, and when I throw an object at something, it usually hits where I want it to. The grenade flew straight and true, right into the middle of the marauders’ congregation, and detonated with an ear-splitting WHOMP . I broke cover and ran toward their position, staying low and moving fast. I got close, took cover, and after a moment, realized that no one was shooting at me. I risked a peek around the trunk I knelt behind.
The two men I had wounded looked like they had been dragged over a hill of glass shards, and three of their would-be rescuers lay motionless in similarly gruesome condition. One of them, however, was still moving. He didn’t look like he was going to put up much of a fight, being that he was bleeding out of his eyes, spitting up blood, and gasping around a lungful of shrapnel, but I wasn’t about to take any chances. I stood up, took aim at his head, and squeezed the trigger twice, putting him out of his misery. I did the same to the remaining bodies, and then moved on.
Not wanting to get caught out of ammo, I pulled the magazine out of my M6, stashed it in a pocket as a last resort, and smacked in a fresh one. A few tense moments went by as I waited to see if anyone else was going to show up. No movement caught my eye, and the only sounds I heard were gunshots to the south where the others were still engaging the Legion. It occurred to me that I might have just taken out the entire force that had been sent to this side of the ridge.
Yay, me .
Breaking cover again, I worked my way across the embankment and down, trying to put myself behind the gunmen advancing up the hill toward Flannigan. If I could draw their fire, maybe I could lead them away from the others and split their forces. It wasn’t the best plan in the world, and it would leave me isolated and outnumbered, but for now, it was all I could think of.
Following the sound of gunfire, I didn’t have to go far to get a visual on the enemy. They were about thirty yards down the hill from me, and it looked as though they had divided their forces into two groups: one going straight up the middle at Gabe and Flannigan, and the other flanking left to take out Sanchez. That meant the gunmen I had just dispatched on the farther end of the ridge had been sent with the intention of taking out yours truly.
Sorry, guys. Better luck next time .
The fact that my side of the hill was now unoccupied meant that if I could somehow get Gabe and the other’s attention, they might be able to fight their way over and we could make a run for it. But I didn’t have a radio, or any other way to get word to them, so that plan was out.
I’d like to say that the idea of just turning around and slipping quietly away didn’t occur to me, but it did. And it was a damned tempting idea. I had enough food on me for three days if I rationed it, plenty of ammo, the means to make fresh water, and two well-maintained firearms. I could bug out, leave Hollow Rock behind, and head west. Live off the land, and forget I ever saw this place.
But that was just the old Eric talking. I could no more abandon Gabe and the others to their fate than I could stand the thought of never seeing Allison again. No, running away was not an option. That left only one course of action.
As I drew closer, being careful not to let the raiders see me, I noticed that quite a few of them wore balaclavas and scarves, probably to protect their faces from the cold. My hand went to the thick wool scarf around my neck, and I grinned as a plan took shape.
Moving quickly, I made my way down the hill and around behind the
I played pitcher for my high school baseball team, and when I throw an object at something, it usually hits where I want it to. The grenade flew straight and true, right into the middle of the marauders’ congregation, and detonated with an ear-splitting WHOMP . I broke cover and ran toward their position, staying low and moving fast. I got close, took cover, and after a moment, realized that no one was shooting at me. I risked a peek around the trunk I knelt behind.
The two men I had wounded looked like they had been dragged over a hill of glass shards, and three of their would-be rescuers lay motionless in similarly gruesome condition. One of them, however, was still moving. He didn’t look like he was going to put up much of a fight, being that he was bleeding out of his eyes, spitting up blood, and gasping around a lungful of shrapnel, but I wasn’t about to take any chances. I stood up, took aim at his head, and squeezed the trigger twice, putting him out of his misery. I did the same to the remaining bodies, and then moved on.
Not wanting to get caught out of ammo, I pulled the magazine out of my M6, stashed it in a pocket as a last resort, and smacked in a fresh one. A few tense moments went by as I waited to see if anyone else was going to show up. No movement caught my eye, and the only sounds I heard were gunshots to the south where the others were still engaging the Legion. It occurred to me that I might have just taken out the entire force that had been sent to this side of the ridge.
Yay, me .
Breaking cover again, I worked my way across the embankment and down, trying to put myself behind the gunmen advancing up the hill toward Flannigan. If I could draw their fire, maybe I could lead them away from the others and split their forces. It wasn’t the best plan in the world, and it would leave me isolated and outnumbered, but for now, it was all I could think of.
Following the sound of gunfire, I didn’t have to go far to get a visual on the enemy. They were about thirty yards down the hill from me, and it looked as though they had divided their forces into two groups: one going straight up the middle at Gabe and Flannigan, and the other flanking left to take out Sanchez. That meant the gunmen I had just dispatched on the farther end of the ridge had been sent with the intention of taking out yours truly.
Sorry, guys. Better luck next time .
The fact that my side of the hill was now unoccupied meant that if I could somehow get Gabe and the other’s attention, they might be able to fight their way over and we could make a run for it. But I didn’t have a radio, or any other way to get word to them, so that plan was out.
I’d like to say that the idea of just turning around and slipping quietly away didn’t occur to me, but it did. And it was a damned tempting idea. I had enough food on me for three days if I rationed it, plenty of ammo, the means to make fresh water, and two well-maintained firearms. I could bug out, leave Hollow Rock behind, and head west. Live off the land, and forget I ever saw this place.
But that was just the old Eric talking. I could no more abandon Gabe and the others to their fate than I could stand the thought of never seeing Allison again. No, running away was not an option. That left only one course of action.
As I drew closer, being careful not to let the raiders see me, I noticed that quite a few of them wore balaclavas and scarves, probably to protect their faces from the cold. My hand went to the thick wool scarf around my neck, and I grinned as a plan took shape.
Moving quickly, I made my way down the hill and around behind the
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