Chapter 3: RAWHIDE!

Higgins pushed himself to his feet and grabbed a pair of binoculars from a ruined pocket of his flight suit. Licking his parched lips, he lifted the binoculars to his sore, burning eyes and checked the landscape.

Sure enough, the same convoy which had been traveling around the area for a half an hour was still there. Higgins zoomed in on the front right door of the transport. Sure enough, a Belkan flag was painted onto it. Higgins was about to set the binoculars down when he saw a small figure moving down the slope opposite his wreck. He hurriedly lifted his binoculars again and spotted Avery November descending the far slope.

"Thank God… Maybe he found some food and water. I just hope he gets here in time…" Higgins heaved a dry sigh from the depths of his lungs and spat on the ground, supporting himself against what was left of the Tomcat's nose. When he went down, the remaining Osean fighters were scattered across B7R, either pulling out or on the ground. Higgins and another squadron member had paired up in formation and were trying to escape from the battlefield when a burst of cannon fire shredded Higgins' wings. Unable to maintain altitude, Higgins fell from the sky and spiraled to the ground. He managed to steady himself so that he carved a ravine into the ground and skidded to a stop, his F-14 shredded beyond recognition; yet somehow he survived the landing.

And here he was, in the same boat as all of his fellow pilots. Stranded in B7R, hoping that Belkan patrols and rummage squads wouldn't kill them or capture them.

Eventually, the truck turned straight towards him. "Oh, fock," Higgins sighed and took out his Beretta. The single 15-shot clip wouldn't do much damage to Belkan soldiers in full combat outfits, and would do even less to an armored vehicle, the supply truck included. But it would be better to die fighting then to surrender and waste away in a prison camp somewhere in Belka.

The small patrol drew closer to the wreckage, drawn like moths to a bug zapper. When they spotted Higgins, standing there, waiting for them, and drew closer.

"Osean pilot! Drop your weapon and surrender peacefully!" Higgins responded by shooting the soldier in the foot; and the man shrieked in pain and dropped to one knee, bringing up his AK-47 and firing a burst. Higgins ducked behind his wrecked Tomcat, the Belkan's fire ricocheting off the destroyed fuselage. Higgins poked his head up over the top of the wreckage and fired a few more shots. The firing stopped.

By some miracle, Higgins had either crippled or killed most of the Belkans at the cost of his only clip of ammo. Higgins vaulted over the wreckage and field-searched the bodies. He turned up an MR-444 and two clips, and an AK-103 and a single clip for that.

"Now, where did that truck go?" He thought.

MEANWHILE…

November, who had made it into the valley between the two mountains, heard the crackle of gunfire far off in the distance and dove behind a small stand of chaparral. The prickly brush poked at his arms and legs, but he was quite sure that (at least for the moment) he was safe from whatever was shooting. At this distance, the crimson sky was partially obscured, providing shelter from its harsh rays. November waited, listening to the gunfire on the mountain above. For a few minutes, it went on, then it stopped. November strained to hear more; however, he couldn't. Even from this distance, it was obvious that the fight was over.

November backed out of the chaparral and circled through the thorny brush, and moved slowly towards the far slope. He held his Beretta in his left hand, as he was left-hand dominant. After a while, the sun set, and November continued his uphill journey, occasionally taking a handful of wild strawberries and popping them into his mouth. Eventually, he reached the area of the gunfight. He looked up and found the wreckage of Higgins' Tomcat, recognizable by the black horse insignia on the nose.

"Higgins? You around here?" November yelled. Suddenly, a hand clasped him from behind. He struggled against the hand, but the stocky, tree-trunk like arm held ramrod stiff.

"Shh… Shut up, man! You'll give our position!" The voice sounded vaguely familiar.

"Higgins… Is that you? Thank god, it's captain November! I thought I was the only one left."

"Apparently not. The Belkans have been patrolling the area with a prison truck; they have six of our pilots loaded into the back of a transport down the slope from here."

"I just came up that slope; there's nothing down there."

"That's because it's hidden. Follow me. First, take a gun from the stockpile." November noticed the three remaining Belkan rifles, all AK-47s, leaned against what was once a wing. November hefted each one, checked its ammo, finally selecting the heaviest AK-47 and an extra clip.

"You done shopping, lady?" Higgins. His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" November said sarcastically in return.

"Let's just go."

The duo moved down the slope, backtracking November's path, and, sure enough, they arrived at the chaparral where November had hidden a few hours before.

"I was just hiding in there, there's nothing in…" November was corrected as Higgins carefully moved a few tangled branches of chaparral, revealing the front of the ex-Belkan transport. There were several muffled groans coming from the back.

The truck looked old, probably pre-1985, but it was sturdy, and it started surely enough when Higgins climbed behind the wheel. The exhaust pipes belched smoke. Higgins beckoned from the cab.

"Get in! You got gunner's position." November climbed up the step to the cab and slammed the door shut. Higgins started singing a familiar song, and November soon joined in.

Rollin', rollin', rollin'
Rollin', rollin', rollin'
Rollin', rollin', rollin'
Rollin', rollin', rollin'
Rawhide!

Rollin', rollin', rollin'
Though the streams are swollen
Keep them dogies rollin'
Rawhide!
Rain and wind and weather
Hell-bent for leather
Wishin' my gal was by my side.
All the things I'm missin',
Good vittles, love, and kissin',
Are waiting at the end of my ride

Move 'em on, head 'em up
Head 'em up, move 'em on
Move 'em on, head 'em up
Rawhide
Count 'em out, ride 'em in,
Ride 'em in, count 'em out,
Count 'em out, ride 'em in
Rawhide!

Keep movin', movin', movin'
Though they're disapprovin'
Keep them dogies movin'
Rawhide!
Don't try to understand 'em
Just rope, throw, and brand 'em
Soon we'll be living high and wide.
My hearts calculatin'
My true love will be waitin',
Be waitin' at the end of my ride.

Rawhide!
Rawhide!