Chapter 48…

Only a few moments after catching the handheld radio did Ashley burst out the front doors of the bar. Ashley's mind was a few steps ahead of her body - which explained why she nearly tripped over a corpse.

Ashley huffed in annoyance and quickly righted herself. The corpse she had tripped on was one of the men harassing the bar.

For a moment, Ashley gazed critically at the body below her. While the man's weapons had been confiscated by the occupants of the bar, the belt of grenades around his shoulders had not.

Ashley's pockets were rather light from stashing her looted gear; so she reached down to unclip the grenade belt. She strapped the belt loosely around her chest like a bandolier - feeling the cluster of Arc grenades jingle.

Reaching the lowest step, Ashley sprinted around the armored technical still sitting outside the bar. The dark haired woman wrapped her hands against the handle of the driver seat door and wrenched the panel open. To her surprise and elation the key FOB was sitting on the driver's seat.

"Idiots…" Ashley mumbled as she clambered up into the driver seat. She was, of course, referring to the former owners of the technical.

With the simple push of a button, the truck's modern hydrogen engine hummed to life. Ashley slammed her foot down on the pedal; and after a little bit of wheelspin in the muddy street, the truck lurched forwards.

Ashley tugged the wheel to the left to navigate the truck in the direction of the mill. The suspension shook and rumbled on the bumpy road, the roar of the engine rising and lowering in pitch over the rattle of the suspension springs.

When had Ashley last operated a motor vehicle? She honestly couldn't remember…

Four-wheeled vehicles had been exceedingly rare on Erebus II; mostly because no one really needed cars or trucks in the tiny port town Ashley had once considered her sanctuary. If someone did have a vehicle… then they were rich.. very rich…

Vehicles of the older variety certainly weren't uncommon in the tiny town of Antheia. Ashley had ridden in plenty of them, but had never been behind the wheel…

Despite the internal musings and the feeling of dread eating away at her chest - Ashley did find herself enjoying the experience somewhat.

The roaring hum of the hydrogen engine, the bumps and jumps that the road had to offer, the visceral feeling of the wheel rubbing against the scarred skin of her hands…

If the situation Ashley found herself in wasn't so dire, the woman may have even rolled down the window…

But, this little moment of peaceful elation was very short lived. As only moments after cresting the hill that led to the mill did Ashley spot her newest opposition.

A few hundred meters ahead, two trucks had been parked in the center of the road. Their bumpers were touching in the center of the path and their running lights cut through the darkness of the early morning. While it was difficult to see much from Ashley's distance - she could imagine that the trucks were surrounded by enemies.

Ashley switched off her truck's lights. Perhaps they already saw her coming, but the new darkness surrounding Ashley's vehicle tipped the odds back into her favour.

At her current speed it would take only moments to reach the roadblock…

'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'

Ashley pushed her foot down harder on the accelerator…

'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'

She was now close enough to spot the light machine gun emplacements on the beds of the other trucks. Panicking, Ashley ducked her head down in an attempt to shield herself…

'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'

With a bone-rattling crash Ashley's technical collided with the front bumpers of the two trucks in the roadblock. If Ashley's new vehicle had been less heavy or lighter armored it would have been totaled. Luckily, Ashley's technical smashed through the trucks with little issue.

Over the screech of metal and the blood rushing in her ears, Ashley could hear men yelling - as well as the staccato of gunfire. Bullets pinged harmlessly off the metal plating of Ashley's truck; but the new cracks in the windshield did not fill the dark haired woman with confidence.

Not wanting to wait around, Ashley continued to press her foot down on the accelerator. The hydrogen engine was now making a high-pitched whining noise where there had once been a roar.

'Don't die on me…' Ashley thought to herself, her teeth gritting together.

The dark haired woman laid off the accelerator as the road began to run alongside the local river - the same one that the mill waterwheel used to generate power. The mill itself was still far in the distance.

Ashley would have to watch her speed here. The topheaviness of the technical could send the vehicle careening into the waters at the slightest provocation.

Over the whine of the engine, Ashley could now hear a crackling noise.

Looking down, Ashley spotted the handheld radio that Dema had tossed in her direction. A low crackling was coming from the device; so Ashley scooped the radio up with her hand and held it to her ear.

"Anyone there?" Ashley asked into the receiver. Her left arm was now in charge of navigating the truck; and the constant jolts and tugs were irritating the welt on Ashley's shoulder. "Hello!?"

"Ashley?" A harsh voice crackled out of the device. "You there?"

"What is it, Dema?" Ashley winced as another jolt went down her arm. "I'm almost at the mill. Be careful, they've set up roadblocks around the town…"

"Just another problem then," Dema growled. "We are making a push and it is going well… I do not think that they expected a counterattack…"

Ashley prepared herself for the eventual "but".

"But," Dema muttered. "Fedorov is missing…"

"Missing?" Ashley frowned.

"Clean your ears!" Dema spat. "He is not in the clinic. I think that they took him."

"Why?"

"Don't be daft! Why else? A man with Fedorov's talents is rare out here; they wanted him as their own doctor."

"Fuck…" Ashley swore. "Fuck! Fine, I'll head back to town as soon as I-"

Ashley was cut off when something massive smashed into the back of her truck. Her head swung forwards and smashed against the headboard, and the radio flew from her grasp.

With a huff, Ashley lifted her head off of the dashboard. Her forehead throbbed with pain - most likely a new bruise to add to her growing collection. Over the whine of the hydrogen engine, Ashley could hear bullets pinging off the armor plating of her technical.

Clearly, Ashley had not smashed the trucks in the roadblock as thoroughly as she had throught. In her cracked side mirror Ashley spotted the running lights of a pursuing vehicle. One man was driving, another was hanging out of the passenger side window and taking pot shots with a pistol.

The mill was a few hundred meters ahead; and assuming that there was already an enemy presence there - Ashley needed to shake her pursuers.

Taking her foot off of the accelerator, Ashley slammed the brakes until her vehicle was more or less in line with her pursuer's vehicle. The river sat on the far left side of the road, so Ashley was in no real danger of careening into the river.

The same could not be said for her opponents…

Ashley jerked the wheel back and forth to deliver several smashes to the side of the pursuing vehicle. She could see the men in the other cabin spitting and swearing from the vehicular attacks; and Ashley's teeth rattled when they too began smashing their vehicle into hers.

The sound of grinding metal filled the air as the two trucks became locked in a stalemate. Ashley's new technical did not have the weight needed to force the other truck into the river.

A new idea entered Ashley's head; a riskier one… but the former pilot knew the benefits of being bold…

So… Ashley rolled down the window of the driver side door…

The dark haired woman turned her head to view the twin looks of shock on her pursuer's faces. Stupidly, the gunner sitting in the passenger seat took the bait and stuck his arm out of the window - a pistol clenched in his grip.

Before he had a chance to fire, Ashley tore her left hand off of the steering wheel and gripped the man's hand. With her other hand, Ashley tore one of the arc grenades off of her newly acquired belt. She primed and tossed the explosive into the cabin of the pursuing vehicle - only then did she let the man's hand go.

Ashley could hear her opponents swearing and panicking as she revved her engine. She peeled off down the road - keen to put as much distance between herself and her pursuers as possible.

With a small tinge of satisfaction in her chest, Ashley watched in her rearview mirror as the arc grenade went off. The cabin of the pursuing truck shone with a blue light as both its engine and occupants were fried.

The enemy driver was convulsing and unable to control the vehicle. With a metallic screech, the enemy truck hit a bump and was sent careening into the nearby river.

Fortune did always favour the bold…


Ashley made sure that her truck's running lights were still off as she pulled the vehicle over. She let the truck come to a gentle stop in a small ditch and turned off the engine - not wanting the high pitched whine of the damaged machinery to alert anyone to her presence.

Once again, Ashley emptied out her pockets. She resolved herself to carry just a knife and one pistol - an older Hammond P2011 - and as many magazines as she could possibly carry. Unfortunately, Ashley's new radio had been smashed to bits. The dark haired woman found the mangled remains underneath the passenger seat and the device wasn't turning on. She was now deaf to what was going on back in the town; and that didn't fill her with confidence.

With her pockets full of bullets, Ashley abandoned the damaged truck and sprinted off into the mill.

To Ashley's surprise… the mill was almost silent - completely devoid of the large enemy presence that she had suspected.

It made sense in a way. The town was much larger and would require far more manpower to cover… but the mill still felt far too empty. Other than the creaking of the water wheel and the rustling of wind in the nearby grass - the entire area was silent.

"-you sure that this thing's ready to move?" A voice was carried by the wind.

Scratch that… Ashley had just heard a voice. The dark haired woman stayed low to the ground and stuck to the darker shadows cast by the mill's many buildings. Her destination was Big Ivan's resting place.

With a knife in one hand and the other hand left empty, Ashley peeked around a corner to spot her opposition.

Standing in front of a crouched Big Ivan were two figures; in the low light, Ashley assumed from their bodily dimensions that they were both men. Both were dressed in cobbled-together white armor, which shone in the dim moonlight.

"-mechanically… yeah…" The figure on the left muttered to their companion. They stepped forwards and delivered a gentle kick to the side of Big Ivan's curled up leg. "But when I heard that we were gonna grab a titan… I expected something more-"

"Modern?" The figure on the right interrupted with a scoff. "This thing is ancient. Why the hell are we here wasting our time for this rustbucket?"

"It's either this or we're raiding a Militia base," the other figure reasoned. "Besides, those new OS' are hard to get around. This thing is probably dumber than a bag of rocks..."

Ashley narrowed her eyes, she had heard enough. The dark haired woman, still sticking to the shadows, crept out from her hiding place and began inching towards the two figures. Her knife was still clenched tightly in her hand, and the soft dirt below her feet muffled her boots.

"Do you think Jameson and the other guys beat the activation code out of that civ'?"

Ashley froze in spot, a single bead of sweat rolling down her temple.

"He stopped screaming a while ago…" The figure on the left shrugged. "So either they've killed him or he was tougher than he looked. I don't care either way…"

"Likewise," the figure on the right chuckled. "Jameson is good when it comes to getting what he wants-"

The man on the right never had the chance to finish his sentence. His amusement turned to horror as he was left grasping at his sliced throat.

"What's up-" The man on the left stuttered, his face contorting into a look of horror. He froze when he felt the edge of Ashley's knife settle against his throat.

"Who-"

Ashley silenced the man by drawing the knife closer to his neck. "What man are you torturing and where is he being held?"

The dark haired woman felt the man gulp. "I don't know… some guy who decided to stay late for the night. We grabbed him when we got here; they've got him in the main cutting building…"

The man slowly raised his hand and pointed in the direction of the mill's largest structure.

"Thank you…" Ashley muttered. One quick twist of her wrist was all it took to make sure that the man would no longer be a threat…

In the past few hours she had taken well over ten lives. In the past few hours the quiet, peaceful life Ashley had built for herself had devolved back into a cycle of violence...

A nagging feeling was churning in the pit of Ashley's stomach, but she battled it down. This was no time to think about what she had done. If what the two men had said was true, there was someone who was in desperate need of her help.

The sprint towards the main cutting building took less than a minute. It was a massive structure - impossible to miss; and it's large warehouse doors had been thankfully left ajar.

Ashley hopped up and squeezed her way into the building; making her way along the interior walls as she delved deeper into the structure. She stayed low and kept her pistol in her right hand. The dark haired woman's ears were carefully trained towards her surroundings; even drowning out the sound of her light breathing.

'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'

Then Ashley heard it - a pained, rattling groan. The pathetic noise was followed by the harsh sound of a hand slapping against flesh.

"Talk, you fuck!" A voice growled.

"Earl, how the fuck is he supposed to talk if you keep punching him in the fucking mouth!? I told you, just break his fucking fingers already…"

Ashley's eyes narrowed. She crept around a large pile of wood and finally laid eyes on the bandit's unfortunate victim.

Of course… it had to be her boss…

Anatoly had been strapped to a chair; his legs were left free but his arms were tied tightly around the backrest. He was shirtless, and his chest was marked with slash wounds and developing bruises. Going upwards, however, it became apparent that the chest wounds were the least of Anatoly's concerns. His whiskery face was now marred with ugly brown and black splotches and swelling profusely.

"Fuck…" Ashley whispered under her breath.

"I don't like breaking fingers…"

"You willingly beat his fucking face in and now you're telling me that you don't like breaking fingers?" The second man scoffed. "Come on… that's pathetic-"

"Shut up, both of you…" A third voice called out. "Give the guy credit - he's a lot tougher than we thought he would be."

Ashley was glad that she had waited, because a new enemy had just given away his position. He walked out from the shadows cast by lumber piles.

With a sharp intake of breath, Ashley felt her pace quicken…

'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'

This new man, who carried himself like a leader, was not dressed in the same patchwork armor as his underlings. His face was hidden by a smooth white and black helmet, complete with a blue "X" shaped visor. The rest of his armor pieces followed the same general design scheme; his chestplate, shoulder pads, and leg plating was smoothed and streamlined for fast movement. His outfit was dominated, however, by the bulky jumpkit hanging off the back of his hips.

The bandits were being led by a pilot. Which meant that the odds were no longer in Ashley's favour...