Hey hey it's a new chapter of FP! Like... Usual. After all, it is Friday (and thank all the good things above for that.)
So what are you waiting for? Strap on your armor and pick up your weapon, soldier, because we're going to war.
Chapter Thirty Six – Lloyd
Everything seems to go right, which makes me nervous.
Besides the compounding factors of Nindroids on your tail, the whiz of bullets and the shatter of mortar shells above your head, and the fear that pumps through you with enough intensity that you may very well crap your army-issued jumpsuit.
My squad clusters together despite Phil's efforts to get us to spread apart, keep hold over a wider area. The proximity gives me strength, being close to one another in a world where the very dirt of the ground seems like it wants to kill you. Phil's barking commands drill into my ears like a hostile attack, bawling commands over the world crumbling around our ankles. That's what it feels like, at least.
"Sabina! Get over there and man your territory!"
Sabina gives me a glance of pure horror and peels away from my side, her hands white-knuckled on her gun. I see the flash of metal on the rise of the next hill and discreetly summon a little lightning, shorting out the Nindroid's circuits before it can fire on us.
In the hell that is the battlefield, I somehow find strength in my newfound abilities. Back in Army I was just another kid with a gun, but now I feel... Empowered. I have defenses that Nindroids can't accommodate, skills that can protect me if need be. The power stirs within me, tied to the war around us like strings.
It's hard to explain, like the elements respond to my touch, fashion themselves to my liking as I call upon them. I can tug lightning down from the sky and stir fire in the metal guts of a tank like I'm manipulating real objects... Ming probably knows the science and crazy magic behind it all, but I'm focused on keeping my squad alive as we walk over the line that used to be the forcefield, which has now crumpled to dust. Sorry about that, Borg.
Phil knows we're scared, and I'm sure he is too, but he does a remarkably good job of hiding it. He's a rallying presence for our squad, and I find myself drawn to his orders, the skill at which he commands us. So far no one in my squad has been killed, although two have been seriously wounded. I remember with a grimace the bolt of energy coursing from the Nindroid that tore through one of my squad-mate's ribs – with another grimace I realize I don't remember his name. We're practically on the front lines, so it's thanks to a hovercraft full of luck, and Phil's skill, that so many of us are still alive.
The Nindroid advance is frightening, a sea of metal rushing down the hills from Borg Tower with the sheer intention to destroy. Tanks tear through squads, blade monsters like the ones in the Games slicing soldiers into ribbons. I'm surprised the battlefield isn't slick with blood.
I must be going into shock, because the sight of the grisly wounds and blood-caked dirt doesn't faze me. Every second I'm looking forward, looking to the next mission, the next Nindroid, the next hill.
As I watch explosions ripple through the sea of robots swarming us. A tank charges over the hill, crushing a squadron of Nindroids and spinning its barrel rapidly to decapitate even more. I wonder if Zane is the one who's steering it, and when a blast of ice freezes an entire legion of robots ahead of us I know my suspicions are confirmed.
Thinking on the battlefield isn't like thinking in real life, methodical and precise with one event falling after another. Instead everything melts together from the pressure of shock and fear. I fire bullets left and right, and bullets are fired back at me. Fire and ice swirl from my hands, lightning sparking through the rows of Nindroids as one after the other topple like dominoes.
I realize in the moment that Thrace was right about the war. Nuclear warheads and soldiers would be good enough, but it's us, the tributes, who are the deciding factors of the war. A bullet can take out one Nindroid, but the ice that creeps up and freezes the robot's circuitry? I can take down at least fifty with one blast.
It's funny how I didn't realize it until now. All the talk in the rebel base about the amazing tributes and how we're so powerful seemed to buzz through my head like mindless drivel, but as I see the damage we tributes are inflicting... We can turn the tide of this war.
The power incredible, but the fear makes me humble. I can freeze fifty robots, but one of their bullets can take me down. I have one goal, and that's Borg Tower.
A scream echoes above the din and I turn to see Sabina frozen in terror on the ground, the barrel of a gun inches from her face. A Nindroid stands over her, blank and emotionless as always. Its finger twitches to the trigger...
My body reacts and I yank a bolt of lightning from the sky, shattering the Nindroid's upper half into dust. Sabina screams even louder and covers her head as shrapnel dusts her shoulders, but she's safe for now.
Phil marshals us forward over another hill, and I recognize every indent and ridge in the terrain. Moreover, I feel the power of the earth pulse beneath my heels, waiting for my call. Unable to resist the urge, I tug a shelf of rock out of the ground and a group of Nindroids go flying as a pillar thrusts itself up from the earth. A tank rams full-force into the rock and crumples like a tin can, and the crunch seems loud enough to wake the dead.
"Nice one, Lloyd." Cole remarks over comms. "Let's show 'em what we tributes can do."
The smile fades from my face when I see the soldiers climbing up the adjacent hill. They're not Nindroids with enhanced weapons or armor. They're not tanks, they're not blade monsters. They're so, so much worse.
They're people, eyes full of hatred and fear, and they raise their guns to fire. Shots ring out and my squad staggers, shocked and unable to find cover.
Next to me, Zaria falls to her knees, red blooming across the front of her jumpsuit.
The world turns to tinny ringing in my ears and cold. I abandon my post and run to Zaria's side, clutching her hand in mine and applying pressure to the wound. Her face is pale and her eyes fearful as she grips my hand so tightly I fear the bones will break. Her lips form the trace of a word and I struggle to discern it...
Why?
"Zaria, no, you're going to get out of this. Medic!" I scream, staring into her wide eyes. Zaria struggles for breath and I can feel her grip slackening. Phil's hand grasps my shoulder and shakes it slightly, pulling me back to my senses.
"She's gone, Lloyd. We need to move."
When I look back, searching Zaria's face for any sign of life, I know that he's right. I want to move, but my legs are leadened and as unresponsive as Zaria is. I've never seen someone die in my life, never held their hand as the fight trickled out of their eyes.
I want to puke and cry and scream at the same time, but now I have to fight. For Zaria.
Raising my gun, I direct it at the nearest Nindroid and release a storm of bullets, mingled with the snap of electricity and burning fire, the rumble of an earthquake and the biting cold of frost. Every ounce of my new power pours across the battlefield, a flurry of gold that sears my eyes and chars the stone of my heart. I'm empty inside, and my powers reflect that.
Across the battlefield Nindroids and humans alike drop. Some just crumble to ash, but the rest collapse like a tide. I'm frozen to the spot while the wave of death rolls over the crowd. Rebels watch with shock as entire squads of Borg's soldiers and Nindroids tumble to the ground. The last of the human ranks nearest to the Tower are left standing, but the rest of them...
I turn and gag, the stench of death clogging my nostrils. My body is in betrayal of what I've just done, how many people I've just killed. Would Zaria be proud now?
"Remind me never to piss you off." Phil gives me an appraising glance. "Just a little more, soldier. Let's finish this."
Short chapter, I know. Hopefully it'll tide you over for another week? *smiles winsomely*
That's all folks. Until next Friday! :)