center CHAPTER 2: ON THE RUNcenter
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My kingdom, my kingdom for a jump pack. The Orkz, with their bolt pistols and crude knives, ran at us at top speed. Then came the only too-familiar battle cry.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" The cheer erupted like a geyser from the oncoming green mass.
"Over there! Behind the stones!" Milhouse signalled for us to hide behind them. Milhouse, Juman, and I dove behind the rocks and aimed our boltguns at the rushing Orkz. They reminded me of a history class about ancient sports. I now knew what it was like to play football.
"What about the bike?" asked Arier, his voice showing a clear sound of panic.
"Ditch it," I said, unsuccessfully trying to hide the panic in my voice. Arier swerved the bike beside the row of rocks, and hopped off. He easily ripped off the two guns on the bike, and joined us taking cover behind the rocks, which we were unusually lucky to find. We aimed, and fired. I'd say there were about 20 Orkz, maybe even 30, which could easily be taken down by a squad of marines. But seeing that our Sergeant and two other troops are dead, it would be a lot harder. About 3 went down, victims of our gunfire. Orkz were stupid, but not stupid enough to run away when you know you're going to win. Besides, what would a few dead comrades do to them? Juman ran out of bullets, so Arier tossed him one of the bike guns, replacing it with his own boltgun. It was too bad Milhouse went down due to a bullet - no, make that 2 - in his head. His body flew a few feet before landing in a cloud of dust. That's when I remembered our frag and crack grenades. After throwing my emptied boltgun at the Orkz, I collected our green saviours, readied them all, and threw them all at once. This would've killed almost all of them, except for the fact that something happened; something that's not supposed to happen. The Orkz shot all but one of the frag and crack grenades right out of the air. The remaining one felled 4 Ork Boyz. That meant 2 Orkz left, thanks to Juman's amazing accuracy. When the last Ork fell, we held our breaths. Was it over? Was it finally over? Yes, it had to be. Or so we thought.
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My kingdom, my kingdom for a jump pack. The Orkz, with their bolt pistols and crude knives, ran at us at top speed. Then came the only too-familiar battle cry.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" The cheer erupted like a geyser from the oncoming green mass.
"Over there! Behind the stones!" Milhouse signalled for us to hide behind them. Milhouse, Juman, and I dove behind the rocks and aimed our boltguns at the rushing Orkz. They reminded me of a history class about ancient sports. I now knew what it was like to play football.
"What about the bike?" asked Arier, his voice showing a clear sound of panic.
"Ditch it," I said, unsuccessfully trying to hide the panic in my voice. Arier swerved the bike beside the row of rocks, and hopped off. He easily ripped off the two guns on the bike, and joined us taking cover behind the rocks, which we were unusually lucky to find. We aimed, and fired. I'd say there were about 20 Orkz, maybe even 30, which could easily be taken down by a squad of marines. But seeing that our Sergeant and two other troops are dead, it would be a lot harder. About 3 went down, victims of our gunfire. Orkz were stupid, but not stupid enough to run away when you know you're going to win. Besides, what would a few dead comrades do to them? Juman ran out of bullets, so Arier tossed him one of the bike guns, replacing it with his own boltgun. It was too bad Milhouse went down due to a bullet - no, make that 2 - in his head. His body flew a few feet before landing in a cloud of dust. That's when I remembered our frag and crack grenades. After throwing my emptied boltgun at the Orkz, I collected our green saviours, readied them all, and threw them all at once. This would've killed almost all of them, except for the fact that something happened; something that's not supposed to happen. The Orkz shot all but one of the frag and crack grenades right out of the air. The remaining one felled 4 Ork Boyz. That meant 2 Orkz left, thanks to Juman's amazing accuracy. When the last Ork fell, we held our breaths. Was it over? Was it finally over? Yes, it had to be. Or so we thought.
