To whom it may concern:
Much thanks for all my faithful readers. I'm so delighted that you're enjoying this little fanfic of mine. It gives me hope that regardless as this story is a OC/AU type, that there are those who don't condemn it for this. Thank you for being open minded. :)
I especially want to give grateful shoutout to Catbite, who has been there since the beginning of my little endeavor. Of course I don't want to leave out anyone who has taken their precious time to read my fanfic. Without you, this story wouldn't be possible. It is my desire to weave this tale to entertain you and that's what has carried me on to continue this fic even when it had started as a one-shot to begin with. Who knew that it could evolved from there to this!
Sadly, I may not update as frequently as I do for the next five months. With my residency in teaching World Geography, I'm pretty tied up. But I will strive to finish this story, which means a lot to me than my other old fandom fics. This one is more personal since many of the OC characters are the incarnate fragments of my personality. I write what I know, so if these OCs become too Mary Sue-ish I would greatly appreciate any feedback and creative criticism to fix this, or if the canon characters become too out-of-character.
Once again, thank you. Read on, my friends. ;)
Sincerely,
Dismal-Spectre
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Aftermath: The Age of Desolation
Chapter 7: Keeping the Lead
Ask any war veteran and they would tell you the same thing. Everything they did was done out of necessity. They would embellish the tale, saying how they took on an entire platoon single handedly. Nevertheless, it revolved around the same theme. In the midst of hell, they lived because of the courageous leadership of their commanders or that they just knew what to do at the time.
Of course what they spoke of was what a seasoned solder experienced. They conveniently forget to mention the fear, the penetrating numbing fear that takes hold of one in their first taste of combat. They never mention how your mind shuts down and your body seemed to run on its own, as if a secondary programming kicked in. Some would not remember what happened after regaining their senses, staring back with amazement at how they managed to survive the impossible. Nor would they tell of the accounts of the gory nightmares that would haunt even beyond when the fighting was long over. Then the blame and the guilt that followed when one is left wondering why they were spared while their comrades perished.
It wasn't until you found yourself in a life-threatening situation that you would know what kind of person you are. Some become rooted in place, transfixed and petrified. Others break down or flee from the danger. Then there are the few who stand their ground, refusing to let their fear dominate them. They take it, transform it that energy to fuel their inner strength to take the challenge face on. It was moments like this that make or break a person.
Despite all the training he had done with Kup, and all the brawls he engaged in to protect his salvaged goods from thieves, Quickstealth was not prepared. Always he faced his opponents as his mentor taught him, with calm and focus, studying their movements and looking for weaknesses. But none of the lessons did him any good now, not when going up against a multitude of ravenous Chops.
Tearing down the ruined streets of Iacon at break neck speed, it took all effort to keep ahead of the great dark tide that threatened to engulf them. Like the incoming sea they came, merciless and unrelenting. Creeping as one black serpent, the Chops revving engines blended into one shrill drone of a raging swarm. From their spinning side turrets bolts of hot-white energy lashed out, coming down thick as rain upon their quarry.
Firing round after round of laser gunshot, Axle never let up his assault. Yet for every one Chop he plucked off another took its place, the gap closing among the tight ranks. "Primus, they're like retro rats," he growled. "They keep coming."
On the other passenger seat of the hovercraft, Sidesweep snorted even as he shot out the tire from under one Chop. "I warned you earlier, kid, not to get involved. But you had to insist…"
"Oh, shut up."
Quickstealth grimaced as a stray shot nearly punctured his left temple. Dust kicked up by the high wind battered against his optics, distorting his vision. Before them, the roads of Iacon stretched. But vorns of disuse and neglect had taken its tool. Scattered about were debris, boulders, and broken machinery and junk. Deep yawning cracks and potholes marred its surface. If there was any sign that the obstacles impeded the Chops, it did not show. They seemed to scale and glide effortless over them, using the giant slabs of broken concrete as ramps to gain distance.
"Just hang on," Quickstealth yelled. "I'm going to try to shake them off!"
Yet no sooner than the words were spoken then a high feminine scream rang out. Quickstealth turned his head sharply to find what he dreaded. Though the dozer was efficient in destroying whatever lie in its wake, not all obstructions were destructible. Large and cumbersome, even with the skilled driving of Roadtorque behind the wheel, the bulky machinery was not as agile as the hovercraft at handling the turns. Precious nano-klicks were wasted as it negotiated each bend, often threatening to topple over. Slowed, the Chops caught up to the dozer, latching themselves unto its sides as they clawed at the occupants aboard.
Sidesweep raised his arm mounted ion blaster only to have the Harbinger captain knock it aside. Axle shook his head. "Too risky. You need a clear shot."
Gritting his teeth, Quickstealth pulled a hard right, aiming for the dozer. "Then allow me to give you one," he growled.
Aboard the dozer, Kup drove the bottom end of his musket rifle to the jaw of a Chop. A sick, crunching sound followed, and with a strangled cry, the brute toppled off. Its gangly body fell, crushed beneath the dozer's grinding treads.
"Hell, this is more like it," the old timer whooped. "I haven't seen this much action in years."
But while Kup reveled in the moment, Shadowhydra was horrified by it. Having never been exposed to the harsh reality outside of the Market where their home was, she never knew of what Quickstealth faced day to day as he struggled to earn their living. She never knew the violence of the streets, the rivalry gang fights, the brothel/bar brawls, and the fisticuffs between Junkers as they fought over the limited resources of the landfill. In a way, she knew that a part of what her brother spoke was true, that she had been sheltered, ignorant of cruel world that existed outside of the Shack. For as thrilling and exciting it was to imagine and relive the heroic and glorious battles of the Great War, it was quite a different matter when you were forced with danger yourself.
Nevertheless, her concern for Kup and Roadtorque was what drew her from her shocked trance, and she strove to fight back as best as she could, limited as her skills were. If only she paid more attention during the oilcan shooting lessons her mentor gave her and not dismiss them as unnecessary and barbaric. For a while she was able to bring down a small number of the enemy with her laser rifle. However, when a Chop snagged her ankle, she panicked, never having been taught close combat fighting. She let out a distressed yell, but a cold metallic hand quickly muffled it.
Gripping her wrists and pinning them down, the fiend overpowered her, pulling its leering face close to hers. Hot, sulfuric breathe poured from its maws, caressing her check. Its thin body trembled with excitement as it pressed against her frame.
"My, what beautiful optics you have," it crooned, with not a trance of warmth in it, as if its words could freeze the air. A slender finger stroked her chin, sending shivers through her circuits. It lunged forward, aiming for her neck, when suddenly it pulled back. Hissing and writhing, it struggled as Kup's restraining arm hooked fast about its throat.
"Stay away from her, you bastard," Kup pressed the barrel of his rifle at the mid of its back, causing it to cease its efforts. Then the dozer lurched, off throwing Kup's balance. He let out a yelp of surprise before disappearing from sight.
"KUP!!" Shadowhydra shrieked.
Startled by the sudden release, the Chop let its guard down ever so slightly. Taking the chance, she drew up and rammed her feet into its chest. Back arched and arms flailing, it snarled before vanishing off the side, rolling and bumping behind the dozer before being swallowed up by the black horde.
Just as grief for Kup's loss was about to overtake her, Shadowhydra heard Roadtorque calling over the roaring of the engine. "Whaddya doing standing there? Kup's stuck on the side!"
The smelter's voice snapped her out of it and she bent over, peering down as bided to. Her spark leapt with joy as she caught sight of her dear mentor's form, hanging upside down and waving his arms madly. With his leg caught, only the handrail stood between Kup and his doom.
"What are waiting for?" Kup bellowed. He gritted his teeth as his nose came inches of the fast moving treads. "Pull me up already!"
She slinked forward, watching her footing. Yet as she got a hold of his thigh, a shadow loomed behind her, armed raised to strike.
A shot cracked the air. Turning she saw the Chop behind her fell backward, with a gapping hole glaring through its forehead. Its lifeless corpse struck the ground and was soon covered by the dust.
Looking up, she smiled as she saw her brother returned it with his usual smirk, one hand on the control stick and the other wielding a smoking Twindicer pistol.
Kup scoffed. "Show off. Now let me up!"
Righted atop the dozer, he peered over Roadtorque's shoulder. "Can't this thing go any faster? We just repaired it."
The smelter scowled and shot back, "The cylinder may be new, but the dozer is as old as the Rust Sea. If you wanna go faster, then git out and push."
While this bantering went on, Quickstealth was becoming more anxious as he noticed Sidesweep had used the last of his ammo with Axle not far behind. Covering for the others had severely depleted what little firepower they had. It was time for a new tactic.
Kup must have thought the same. His cool turquoise optics strained as if searching for something faint on the horizon. Then he cried out. "Figured we were in the area. Listen both of you," he shouted at Roadtorque and Quickstealth. "I say we give these guys a helluva ride. Head for the subway systems. We'll lose them there."
While Quickstealth had his doubts of whether the plan worked, he couldn't think of anything better. Unless they shake their pursuers off they'll keep going till they were out of fuel or they were captured. Both options did not look appealing. Still, confined in a tight subterranean tunnel did not seem any worse. Here's hoping Kup knew what he was doing.
As if sensing that their prey was tiring, the Chops howled in ecstasy, in a hellish cacophony. Death was drawing near. Their jaws gnashed hungrily, their claws eager to throttle and slash.
'Why delay the inevitable, dear ones? Oh you've kept ahead of us so far, but the result is always the same. Come to us. We've waited so long for this.'
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Until the next chapter, dear readers... Dismal-Spectre signing out.
Till all are one!