You drive someone from their home. They will only come right back. In force.

Chester, 13:09, 19th March 2037, Wyatt's POV


This was exactly how I planned my day to go. With me and several others, stuck in a restaurant. Bullets flying in all directions. Piercing metal of what was left of cars just outside, shredding tables and chairs inside. Smoke came to my nose, stinging it with it's smell. Splinters float in the air mere seconds before dropping to the ground like wooden hail. Of all the places we could have gone, this was not the best. On either side were the team members I took with me. One had a bullet clip his arm, the other got splinters in one eye after a table blew up in their face from a hail of bullets. If he hadn't been wearing goggles, it would have been worse. Much worse. The brown jacket of the one with the clipped arm was beginning to become coated in red. As it turned out, the chip was more than a clip after all.

Another explosion sounded outside, rubble raining in through the broken window. The building rumbled from the blast, the roof threatening to cave in. I lift my armed hand over the cover, blind-firing my USP handgun over cover. No cries of pain were heard, but that could have also been good. Because that could have been a sign of hitting a target's head, ending their life in one lucky shot.

"Keep your heads down!" the resistance fighter on my right shouted, the one with an injured arm. I could not resist giving him that 'no shit' look at him, mixed with a frown. But it did not last long, as my mind drifted. To think of the others. Were they surviving this large fight? Holding their own? Or were they writhing on the ground, in pools of their own blood? All I could do was hope against that and worry about the now. Yet I was too much of a worrier, and that would be a very tough thing to do. Unless someone decided to shove me, which is exactly what someone did. Just a light shove to the shoulder.

I found myself looking into a face full of urgency, and pain. "Hey, Wyatt! Need you in the fight, now!" I nodded, quickly glancing back to the man with blood seeping from around his eyes. We had to get him out of here. He had no way to see, and no way to fight.

"Come on. Help me with him!" The other nodded, and began a barrage of suppressing fire by blind-fire.

I pulled the other man up to his feet, getting one of his arms around my neck. Another explosion is heard from behind. My guess is one of ours this time, as no enemy fire followed. By the time we reached the bar at the back, the amount of fire heard increased, and I knew then that my other partner needed help. I lowered him to the ground, leaning him against the back of the bar. I ducked down, waiting for a break in the enemy fire. And when that moment came, my feet carried my across the boarded floor as if it were on fire. With one quick slide, I slammed into the wall under the window, holding my pistol in my right hand and my left shoulder against the wall.

With my other hand, I grabbed the other man's shoulder. "We need to go. Now" I insisted, quietly with a calm tone. He looked me in the eyes. By the look of it, he wanted to stay and fight. Not understanding what I wanted was only to fall back, not retreat back to our headquarters. "Tom. Now." Those two words were enough, with a small tug to his brown leather jacket. We both started to run back, ducking down. But if we had continued on, if I had not heard that whistle through the air, we would have all died. I pulled on his jacket, stopping him in his tracks just as an RPG went flying by. hitting the bar and shattering it to splinters. Leaving nothing, even behind.

We both lay in shock, the deafening blast ringing in our ears. The blast had saved us in some way, knocking us to the ground and out of the way from the continuing barrage of bullets. Using my feet, I started pushing away, my boots scraping against the floor. Pulling him with me. We stopped against a flipped table, leaning against it.

"We're fucked, man! He's fucking dead!" I grabbed him by the jacket, pulling his face to mine.

"Pull it together, and fight." My voice was quiet, but cold and dark almost like a hiss. I handed him his Diablo SMG that he had dropped on the ground. "So, you can either cower here, or use that weapon of yours. And shoot them." He nodded slowly. Then, looked around the corner of the table and fired, peeking around it.

When he pulled back, he spoke while reloading. His voice shaking with fear. "Where's our help when we need it?" I took my turn in firing. I already knew the answer. We would be getting no help. We had done our part to help the resistance group here. Now, all we could do was hold our own. At least, that's what we believed. A sudden roar of heavy gunfire sounded from outside, followed by screams of agony. Wheels squealed against the road. Not soon after, the sounds stopped. Followed by a door opening, and boots hitting the ground. Peeking around, I couldn't resist the smile that crossed my face.

"Hey, Tom. You wanted help. Well, you got it." He stood up. His armed hand fell to his side, along with the SMG.

"It's about time." A Chester rebel came running over, holding an M4 rifle.

"Are you all here?" I shook my head, pointing a thumb back to the remnants of the bar. That was all he needed to know. "I guess you've had enough time fighting alone out here. So let's get you out of here." We followed the rebel to the grey utility truck, with another rebel holding an LMG me and my team had brought with us when coming here, standing on the back. As soon as when we were in, the truck started off.

"How does the fight go?" I questioned.

"It goes as well as one could. With the resources you gave us, and the transmitters down, we have contacted everyone in Chester. We now have everyone's support. But there were a few against us, who we have captured, and are now keeping under heavy surveillance." The truck rounded a corner, into a clear street. "Most of the fighting is downtown, a bit in our area. But the main problem, is that damn airship. We have no way of taking it out."

I smirked. "We do. Have you hit the armory?" His look obviously was meant to say something like 'Are you crazy?' or something like that.

"You're crazy, right? That's where most of them norks are! They'll kill us if we approach!" I shook my head.

"Not if we hit them quickly. We only want one thing. A-" I couldn't finish, as an explosion rocked the side of the vehicle. A wall of a building next to us exploded, showering them with bricks. Following the smoke trail, I saw where it came from. The airship itself. "It's targeting us! Get off the streets!" The driver turned into an alley way, another explosion hitting just behind us. The poor guy in the back must have had a headache by now. "Call in a team to hit the armory. We'll meet up with them." The rebel tuned into the radio, grabbing a walkie-talkie attached to it. He began giving orders, in a way I did not like. No codenames what so ever. It's like he wanted to give away our entire plan. Luckily he got it out, because we exited the alley, only to ram right into a lone stalker, the crash flipping our vehicle forward. But I knew better. Stalkers never traveled alone. And I was right when I spotted another few to my right. And my left.

I kicked against the door repeatedly, over and over until the door swung open. Quickly, I crawled out, holding my pistol in one hand. The sudden crash left me shaking a bit. I lifted my USP.45 to aim at one of them. But my hand was waving around too much, I couldn't get a clear shot. One Stalker leaped onto the the underside of the truck, ripping and tearing at the metal while making robotic/animal like screeches. The single orb in the head lit up the metal.

My hand moved to that one, aiming for the single red eye. Yet still, my hand waved around too much. In no possible way, could I hit it. I fired, hitting it's shoulder. It flinched, then stared at me. The red light glowed against my face. "Come on, then." One clawed metal paw moved onto the road next to me, then another. The head hovered above mine. Then, the blue sparks from the contact tazers appeared.

Out of nowhere, a gunshot sounded. And a bullet ran through the back of the neck. The robot collapsed. Another gunshot. Another down. This went on until there were three of eight down until I rested my head against he road, looking backwards. To see Jason with a Diablo SMG and Lydia with an M40 sniper rifle.

I reached out to them. Lydia shouldered her rifle, leaving Jason to keep on firing. He had grown so responsible since I first met him. Yet still, I doubted he would kill another human. Robots, he was fine with hitting down. Lydia grabbed my hand, hauled me to my feet. I staggered to a wall, regaining my wits and my nerves. By the time Lydia had gotten the others out, and the stalkers were down, I was myself again. And there was Jason, there to check on me. He looked scared, dirt covering half his face. I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder from the young man, and I was amazed how brave he could be, coming out here despite the fear in his eyes.

"Hey. You alright, Wyatt?" I nodded, resting my back up against the wall of a building. "Can you stand properly? Are you hurt? Does your head-"

"I'm fine, Jason...I'm fine." That was enough for him to leave me be. But he didn't walk away. He stayed with me. The driver of the truck came to me. I knew what was going to be said, and stopped him before he could speak. "We will get moving right now." That earned me a confused look from Jason. "The airship. We are going to try and take it out, but we need to hit the armory first."

Lydia was obviously skeptical on the idea. "And how far would that be?" I pointed up the street.

"Only two blocks away. There are others to meet us there." I started to walk, stumbling at first. But I got my balance eventually. "We will go on. You two" I added, pointing at the Chester rebels. "Get back to your base. We'll be fine. And take my partner with you" They did not even bother to hesitate, and scampered off with their weapons, carrying an unconscious Tom with them. Luckily, there was another M4 in the truck. I took it, collecting two extra magazines. Their resources really were very scarce. "Let's get moving."

I took the lead, moving down the street. Lydia and Jason followed behind. "Where's Milo?" I asked, aiming down my sights while scanning the street ahead.

"We found the head quarters. He's there, waiting for all this to blow over...We kind of forced him to go there." I gave a light chuckle. Just like the old, casual Milo. Never wanted to be left out of a fight.

"Just what I thought." Silence then fell upon us after. I had questions for them, and I was sure it was the other way around. We continued on trudging forward. And it wasn't too long before we arrived. We knew we had when we heard the gunfire. Instead of going straight in, I directed us into a side alley. We knelt down at a corner. And just around, is the fight going on.

"Alright, here's the plan. Jason, join the rebels. Now, you don't have to kill any soldiers. Just cover them from flanking Stalkers." He nodded, yet was a little slow with leaving. Obviously hesitant about leaving us. Once gone, I looked at Lydia. "Lydia, you come with me. Close quarters, so use your pistol." She shouldered her rifle, unholstered her pistol and stood up, taking the lead this time.

The gunfire grew as we drew near. I could only hope Jason would be okay.


Chester, 13:26, 19th March 2037, Jason's POV


It was absolute hell. I was there, shooting horribly while being fearful of imminent death. Fighting for my life.

The battle really was not going well. Surely was not in our favor. Already, one rebel was dead, and two others injured. A smoldering wreck was what remained of a vehicle they luckily got out of. The airship was far from us, heading in the direction of the rebel base. Whatever Wyatt had in store for them, I wished he would hurry. Or otherwise, we were about to lose the battle for Chester.

I had one other rebel with the same task as me. Holding Stalkers off. Two Stalkers appeared down road, charging at full speed. A screeching howl from one announced their arrival to the battlefield. The rebel with me was the first to fire. Already, I knew he was the nervous type, like me. He fired half a magazine, each shot missing or pinging off the armor on the Stalker's front. I, on the other hand, got it right on target by some amazing shot. The first flipped over. But the anxiety hidden within resurfaced when three more arrived. I fired again, missing. The rifle bucked up in my unsteady, clammy and sweaty hands. Trying to steady my next shot, an explosion from an RPG hit nearby, sending vibrations through me and my ears ringing. War really was harsh, and I started to regret coming out into it.

The rebel by me emptied the next half of his mag, hitting one Stalker in a couple of joints at random. But that did not slow the robot's approach. They kept on leaping forth, coming closer and closer at a slow and steady pace and they got nearer. You could swear they were tigers stalking prey, and we were the prey to those electric teeth. They just kept on getting closer. Every time one went down, another two would leap down from the rooftops to take it's place.

We had to fall back, or risk getting trampled as they began to stampede our way. I started to fall back, firing in short bursts with the weapon bucking up. I had no control of where the rounds hit. Fearfully watching them advance. The rebel with me was way ahead of me, running for cover further back. In fact, he was already there before I started moving back. I hurried along as well, dropping my gun to my side.

From the cover another weapon joined ours. A buff looking man appeared next to me, with a helmet on his head. A repainted KPA police helmet. "Push them back!" the man shouted. And instantly, I recognized the voice.

"Marcus?! You're alive?."

"Yeah, nice to see you too. Still a shrimp, I see." I smirked, hope reentering my veins. The hope of victory. Just the same Marcus as before I left. Well, not physically. I could see he had grown more muscular. "So. Joined the Resistance, I see? Finally decided to man up?" I shrugged. The last of the Stalkers fell before we went on.

"I'm not the only one, from what I see." He nodded, then went around to the main fight on the armory. I wanted to follow, but then more Stalkers came. And I didn't want to fight other people. I never had the guts to do that, and only thought non-living opponents. Things that didn't scream in pain, or spray blood all over you.

Another firefight ensued. More metal vessels laid across the road. But there were just not enough of the rebels to combat them. We had been reduced from eleven to six in a manner of minutes. Three of which were dead. The losses were becoming too great, and before I knew it, Marcus saw the same. He began to fall back, ordering the others with him. And I did the only thing I could do. I followed them from behind, my back to the group as I tried to make my last fight the manliest I had ever done. But before we knew it, we became the airship's new targets. A missile hit right in front of the group, killing one instantly and injuring another. Everyone else was knocked down. My weapon was flung from my hands. Me, Marcus and one other were all that remained. The others laid still in pools of blood and asphalt.

"Cover! Get to cover!" We all ran into doorways and alleys. But it wasn't enough. The airship continued to hammer the road. Killing the injured that writhed on the ground. It looked like the end. Then I saw it. A missile. Like an RPG, but this one curved through the air, like it had a mind of it's own. Right into one of the rear engines. Yet the airship continued to remain in the sky.

Till another followed. And another. Soon, there was a small storm of nine missiles, all flying right at the airship. The sky lit up, and soon the airship fell slowly from the sky, fire burning through its outer hull and engulfing the material that made of the skin of the airship.

Cheers ran through our little group, and soon after, another utility truck arrived, with several more rebels to clean up the mess. But I sat there, watching the monster in the skies descent in a blaze of fire. Knowing how close I had been to death.


An Hour Later...


Finally, it was done. After much bloodshed, we had won. There were still some remaining, but when Jill and Hank showed up, with everyone else. What remained of the KPA occupants fled, either from the town or deeper into it. Hoping to reclaim what they had lost. The City Hall was taken soon after the destruction of the airship.

People took to the streets, and the roofs, cheering for their well-earned freedom. As did I, along with my family, who had survived. My father had helped in the fight with fixing the rebel vehicles, while my mother helped prepare food and heal the wounded.

In our triumph, we gained a large arsenal. A couple of APC's, some light armor, and a tank, as well as a couple of choppers. And whatever we could salvage from the airship. But it was far from over. They would be back for Chester. In force, and with an army, no doubt. All we could do was wait until that came. And hope that this victory would not be short-lived.


So, that's another chapter done. And for those wondering, Norks is a term used by the American Resistance when referring to the KPA. So hope to see you all again soon!