Getting Back Up
Warning: Contains graphic violence/mention of drugs.
A steady concentration of light beams through the branches and hits Damon square in the face.
The Ghost blinks under the merciless gaze of the sun until he finally groans and lifts himself up. Loose bits of dirt and snow falls off of him as he rises into a sitting position, slowly he starts to shake the rest of the debris off.
He looks around and sees that they are still in their foxhole, only now its morning and the shelling seems to have finally stop. He glances at Winston; the Alpha is still asleep, but the Ghost instantly becomes concern. The old wolf's breathing is rapid and his whole body seems to be shaking.
Damon is instantly by the wolf's side as he begins to reassess the sustained wounds. Winston's lower body is burn and he is bleeding in places where large splinters have pierced his form. He sees no other injuries but he knew there is something wrong, he found Winston's pulse on the neck; it's beating at a fast rate.
The Ghost silently curses, he wasn't trained as a medic, he was only taught basic first-aid procedures, whatever is ailing Winston it isn't basic, it looks like he needs a surgeon or something.
Nana, Damon silently thought, she's the only thing we have to a medic; I've got to get him to her.
The Ghost presses himself alongside the wall of the hole, picks up his Lynx rifle, chambers a round and slowly lifts himself up until his eyes surpass ground level. For the first time since yesterday, the sun is shining without a cloud in the sky and the area is clear of any fog cover. It looks like at least over two hundred yards of the forest have been leveled by the bombardment. Snow has now been spewed everywhere, leaving black dirt to cover the now exposed surface. Pines have fallen and now lie on their sides on the ground while others remain standing, but with their bark and branches barley hanging on to their tree frames. Spaced out are dozens of black pits, the leftover mark of an exploded mortar shell. In the craters and their own dug burrows are at least six wolves, all of whom are still cowering in their feeble cover.
Damon shoulders his rifle and carefully crawls out of the makeshift foxhole, keeping his body pressed down against the forest floor all the while. He is unsure if it was the faltering Federation soldiers who called in the mortar strike or if it was someone watching from afar with binoculars, either way the Ghost isn't taking any chances.
He crawls ever so carefully to the nearest wolf that seems to be asleep in a self-made hole. Damon makes it to the wolf, still lying in the snow as he starts to tap it awake.
"Hey," Damon says in a near whisper tone, "wake up."
Slowly the wolf begins to stir. It opens its maw to release a yawn but freezes. It looks around at the devastation and lets out a yelp when it sees Damon so close to it. The wolf suddenly leaps to its feet and faces the Ghost.
"Wait," Damon tries to stop it but it's too late. The wolf launches itself at the Ghost, aiming for his throat, but Damon is quick. He grabs the wolf's throat and rolls over once in the snow until he pins the creature to the ground while keeping his arm pressed against its neck.
"It's me, Damon," he hisses into the wolf's ear.
The wolf gags before wheezing, "Sorry, sorry."
Ensured that the wolf will no longer be a problem, the Ghost rolls off of it and glances around. The small scuffle has awakened the other wolves that now have their full attention on the human.
Damon raises himself a little before saying, "Get down on your bellies, and crawl back to the Alpha school, stay low, the soldiers could still be watching."
The wolves all seems to shiver at these words before they begin to slowly edge themselves out of the area. However one wolf makes his way towards Damon, the Ghost squints a bit before he recognizes the brownish red fur of Garth.
"Hey," the Ghost said in greeting to the Alpha, "I'm glad you made it."
"What about Lilly?" Garth suddenly demands as he looks around frantically, "was she with you?"
"Lilly? Here?" Damon couldn't believe that sweet little Omega would have joined the fight last night.
Garth bobs his head, "Yes, she was worried about you, so she came along," he looks around once more, "I haven't see her since last night," his eyes returns to the Ghost, fear bright in his eyes, "you don't-you don't think she was hit do you?"
Damon raises his hand and rests it on the wolf's shoulder, "I'm sure she's fine" he says, "If she can take a punch from a bear, then she can survive anything." Damon still sees the fear in Garth's eyes, so he says, "lots of wolves took off into the forest when the shelling started, I'm sure she was among them."
The Alpha gulps a couple times before finally saying, "Ok...I hope you're right."
The Ghost nods before gesturing towards his foxhole, "Come with me, I need your help, now."
He doesn't wait for a reply as he turns himself around and crawls back to the hole. He reaches in pulls out his duffle bag, which he places on his back along with his rifle. He reaches back in again and with a grunt of effort, yanks out the still body of Winston.
Garth gasps, as he quickly scuffles forward and begins sniffing the old Alpha's body while asking, "Is he…"
"No," Damon replies, "But he's not doing well either, we need to get him to Nana, she's probably the only one who can save him now."
Garth nods as he watches Damon place Winston on his already crowded back and crawls in the direction of the Alpha School, following the trail of the wolves that went before and already disappeared. Garth follows but stays behind to ensure that Winston doesn't fall off.
"I hope he doesn't die," Garth finally voice, "especially now, then my father will be in charge and…well I guess you can already tell he's not a fan of yours."
"Just as long as we work together to get rid of the soldiers," Damon says back, "I don't care if he likes me or not."
"I hope you do, because if Winston dies, and he was in your hole, who do you think the wolves are going to blame?" the red wolf asks.
Damon pauses as he thinks this through before he grabs a clump of snow and throws it at the wolf behind him, causing Garth to bark in surprise.
"Thank you for putting that happy thought in my mind, that's really want I needed to hear at the moment," Damon says sarcastically.
The Alpha merely grunts, "You know you should really be an Omega."
Damon is about to make a comeback when he stops. He feels it first; his entire body begins to quiver at an abnormal rate. Then the ground is starting to shake as well, small pieces of rock begins to jump and above them loose snow and branches begins to fall from the trees.
Garth spreads his paws out and hangs on to the shifting ground as he shouts, "What's happening!?"
"I don't know!" Damon shouts back as he reaches behind him to keep Winston from shanking off, "earthquake?!"
"What!?" asks a confused Garth.
"Never mind!" Damon shouts back, but as he glances over his shoulder to look at the Alpha, his heart suddenly jumps into his throat at the sight behind them.
Cresting a near by hill, about two hundred yards away, is a metal giant, a huge turret facing towards them as well as a machine gun resting on top of it. Metal treads grips the Earth as it pulls the iron beast forward, crushing everything in its path. The giant death machine is painted a digital snow camouflage with branches hanging off of its massive frame in a vain attempt to conceal it. A Tank; a LF-43, the monsters that led the charge during the Federation invasion, faster, stronger and with a farther range than the American tanks; now Damon really wishes he had sabotaged the thing when he had the chance.
Yet his vision is drawn to half a dozen figures walking alongside the tank, people that really causes Damon to do a double take. It's more Diablos, but as they walk, Damon notices they aren't walking a cautious lope of a weary soldier, but strutting into a battlefield with extreme confidence. The way they are walking is all that Damon needed to see before knowing there is something different about these soldiers.
He shrugs Winston off his shoulders, carefully lays the Alpha on the ground, brings out his tiny sniper rifle and looks back around as he peers through his scope. He silently curses when he identifies who the soldiers are.
They are Diablos alright with their usually gas masks and assortment of chemical weapons, but now they all carry AK assault rifles with multiple attachments snapped on them, RPG's are strapped to their backs and their patches are different. The words "Uno Diablo" is still pasted on, but now they bore the image of a skeleton with horns holding two grenades, each smoking at the end. These are the Diablo Elite: a special warfare group solely devoted to killing enemies of the Federation, better equip, better trained and better armed. These soldiers are the closest thing the Federation comes to producing Ghosts, because if the rumors are true, then it was a Ghost, Roark, who trained them.
And right now, Damon knew there is no way he can take them all on with his pitiful excuse of weaponry, especially not when the Diablos have a tank for support.
Nevertheless, Damon double check to make sure his gun is loaded before turning back to the wolves by his side.
"Change of plans" Damon says as he unslings his bag, grabs Winston and drapes both the bag and the elderly wolf on top of Garth, who lets out a grunt as the full weight of the load crashes on top of him, "get Winston out of here, I'll stay and hold the soldiers off."
"What!?" asks a dubious Garth as he looks back at the advancing Federation forces, "are you mad! They'll tear you to shreds!"
"I know," Damon replies as he crouches behind a nearby tree, "but unless I hold them off the pack will be annihilated, once you get Winston to the others, hide your tracks the best you can and get ready to move."
"What about you?" demands Garth, "do you want me to send some wolves back to help you out?"
"No," Damon says calmly as he uses the tree to steady his aim, "its best I do this on my own, I don't want any of you to get hurt, it's me they want anyway."
"But-" Garth tries to voice but is cut off.
"Don't argue Garth; just get Winston out of here, now!" Damon says in a low voice as the tank approaches, one hundred and fifty yards away from the Ghost's position. Garth gives the Ghost an uncertain look before he stands and takes off running with the aged Alpha on his back.
Suddenly one of the Diablos starts to shout and points his finger in the general direction of Garth and Winston. Damon holds his breath as he sights on the man; his heart in the crosshair. Damon keeps his breath held in until he squeezes the round off, causing a muffled explosion as he lets the bullet fly.
The round has enough kinetic energy to knock a man to the floor and maybe penetrate a regular soldier's armor. This is not the case with the Diablo; the bullet strikes the man in the chest and pushes him back, but he remains standing, he doesn't even seem fazed by the fact that a bullet had hit him.
Damon pulls back on the bolt to fire again when he hears a loud reeling fill the air. He looks away from the scope and his stomach flips. The tanks primary cannon is now fixed on his location.
The Ghost doesn't even have time to let out a curse. He jumps to his feet, turns and takes off in a dead sprint, trying to put distance between himself and the Federation forces. He has only traveled a few feet when his legs begin to tighten up as cramped limbs starts to take their revenge. Damon curses as he tries to limp, but he knows it's too late when he hears the mighty explosion.
With no other choice, he drops to the ground and covers his head just as the massive round shoots through overhead. He feels the intense heat as it passes over him, followed by a deafening boom. His frame starts to throb as he feels hundreds of splinters impacting him, some of which sticking deep within his body.
Suppressing a groan, the Ghost raises himself and looks around. The tank's weapon has chopped down over a dozen trees, all in a perfect row, with a massive black crater a few yards away from him.
It's a miracle I wasn't killed, Damon thinks as he tries to hoist himself up, but as he rises he hears multiple cracks and hisses all around him; his only indication that he is inside a bullet storm.
He dives back to the forest floor and finds a hard point behind a rock as he looks around for his weapon. Finally he sees the Lynx lying a mere foot away from the boulder he is hiding behind. He reaches for it, but bullets begin to strike the ground all around the rifle, one narrowly misses his hand as he leans back. Twice more he reaches for the gun, and each time continuous gun fire forces him back to his cover. Damon snarls when he realizes he has to leave his only weapon behind or risk being killed by the tank. He edges himself to the edge of the rock's cover, but before he could move, machine gun fire now peppers his cover.
It is then that Damon realizes the perilous situation he is now in. The machine gun fire could only come from one source, the massive fifty caliber MG resting on top of the tank. The Federation soldiers has a chance at killing the Ghost, instead they are keeping him pinned down. This could only mean one thing; they are planning on taking Damon captive.
With the reality of the situation fully recognized, the Ghost tries once more to escape back into the woods, but the patter of the bullets would always drive him back. He is now stuck, and he has just sent Garth away with the message of allowing no one to come and help him; he is on his own.
Damon is force to wait it out as he tries to think of a way out of his situation when he hears it. The concentration of fire is shifted to the left side of the boulder, leaving the Ghost to be able to hear the soft crunches of footsteps on his right flank, indicating that someone is trying to sneak up onto his position.
The Ghost curls and uncurls his fists as he readies himself. His only hope to get out of this alive is the belief that the Feds want him alive and will restrain themselves from shooting him on sight.
Finally the footsteps are a yard away. A few feet. A few inches. Damon waits until he hears the crunches coming just around his shelter, that's when he moves.
The Ghost leaps forward in what he hopes to be a flash of blackness as he tackles the Diablo. They tussle in the snow and true to what he thought, the gun fire ceases, but he hears additional crunches, it won't be long before the other Diablos are on him.
The soldier he has tackled begins to fight back with a vengeance. Unlike the Feds Damon had fought the night before, this Diablo punches, kicks, blocks and counters. The Ghost is surprised when the Diablo threw a punch at him. Damon ducks and attempts to perform an uppercut, but is stun when the Fed twists around and gets his arm stuck in a hold. Acting fast before the Fed could break his arm, the Ghost kicks the Fed's kneecap, causing a loud crack to resound around them. However the Diablo surprises the Ghost once more; he just grunts in pain.
To any mortal being, to bump the kneecap, much less to have it broken, would be enough to bring a giant down screaming in agony. Yet the Fed is still standing, seeming only to be momentarily dazed by the kick.
Is he on drugs or what? Damon thought to himself before attempting to counter once more.
This time Damon uses his enemy's strength against him. He estimates the Fed is using his full strength to hold the Ghost's arm, so acting on his theory, Damon lifts himself up and with the grace of an acrobat he swings slightly from the arm holding him and wraps his legs around the Fed. Just as the Diablo begins to lose his strength and begins to go down, Damon twirls himself, causing the man to twist with him as they crash into the floor. Damon breaks his fall, but the unsuspecting Fed did not, resulting with him landing in a heap.
The Diablo tries to grab his rifle and level it at the Ghost, however his opponent proves to be too fast. Damon jumps to his feet, grabs the Diablo's left foot and yanks it towards him, bringing the Fed closer to him. The Diablo didn't get the chance to retaliate when an agitated Ghost slams a hard fist against his head, causing the Fed's head to snap back and slam against the forest floor, knocking him out cold.
Damon barley lets out a curse of pain as he nurses his knuckles when he hears the rushing of feet. He turns just in time to see another Diablo rush forward and attempts to land a kick. Damon catches the leg, but the Fed suddenly used Damon's own trick against him, he lifts himself up while Damon hung onto his leg and uses his other leg to deliver a powerful kick strong enough to bruise the Ghost's ribs. Damon stumbles away but he hears more footfalls.
Realizing what is happening, he turns and tries to make a run for it now that the Feds are no longer shooting at him, but he is too late. He feels something hard and solid strike his head, forcing him to the earth as black spots explode within his mind. He tries to get up, but something hard, maybe a boot, kicks him in the chin and sends him sprawling onto the forest floor.
Damon forces his eyes to open, but just as the pain starts to fade, the throbbing returns with great intensity. The Ghost releases a light howl of pain as he feels himself being pulled roughly into a sitting on his knees. He tries to rise, but he is struck in the back by something hard once more, causing his body to throb with pain again.
Finally his eyes partially cleared of the black spots and allowed him to see what is happening.
The remaining five Diablos have captured him. Two of them held Damon's arms, one hand clamp on the shoulder while the other is holding his elbow joints. He attempts to struggle, but a powerful force hits his back and causes him to lurch over in pain. Stinging tears threaten to spill over, but The Ghost holds them back as he looks up. The remaining two Diablos stands in front of them, one has his rifle level and train on Damon's face while the other is speaking into a radio that is clamp to his shoulder. However, judging by the way the soldier is repeating himself and hitting the device, Damon guesses he is having radio frequency troubles as well.
Suddenly a hand slaps Damon in the face and the lead Diablo, the one with the rifle in front of the Ghost, shouts something in his language. He must have seen the confusion in Damon's eyes as he switches to a heavily accent voice.
"American, where are your allies?" he demanded in a loud voice.
"Allies?" questions the Ghost as he desperately tries to think on his feet. In answer, the Diablo struck him again, this time with a fist that feels as if it's made of steel.
"We know you have allies," continues the Diablo, sounding angrier by the second as he spoke, "I saw you, you were bleeding, you should have died, you couldn't have lived, someone helped you, now, who are your allies?" he ends the question with another swat.
It is then that Damon realizes what the Diablo means. He saw the fall of his Ghost team, him as well when they first came to Jasper Park, but he decides to play dumb for the time being.
"What are you talking about?" the Ghost asks.
He finally wasted the Diablo's time; the Fed suddenly unleashes a salvo of punches. Damon tries to doge them, but the captor standing behind him grabs his mask and holds him still as the blows lands. It isn't long before the Ghost feels his skin break, lips cracking and blood filling his mouth; these guys must be on some serious meds if their strength is this strong. After what feels like hours of abuse, the Diablo behind Damon's interrogator grabs his fist, halting his progress. The interrogator turns and he and the radio man exchange tense words before they both calm down and the first Diablo turns back to the Ghost.
"We know you have allies," he says I a much calmer voice, "allies who hides in the woods, wolves, no?"
Dread clutches Damon at these words; the Diablo must have seen the terror in his eyes for he chuckles.
"Yes, wolves," he continues, "wolves who lives in the woods, correct?"
The radio man retunes his radio and speaks briefly into it. After he is done speaking, the ground shakes once more, and Damon watches as the tank rolls closer to the tree line before stopping.
The Diablo is no doubt smiling behind his mask as he says, "now, where are your little allies located? In a clearing not far from here, approximately seven hundred yards away, yes? "
Damon didn't answer, but the tank moves it turret, raising it higher into the air so that it can hit targets that are at a distance.
He has to be bluffing; he has to be, Damon thought but didn't believe himself. How did the Feds know about the wolves and better yet, how did they learn of their location?
The Diablo punches the Ghost when he remains silent and turns to the radio man and gave what sounded like an order.
The radioman spoke one word into the receiver, "*fuego."
There is a moment of silence before fire erupts from the tank's primary gun. Damon jerks his head in the direction of the forest and watches in horror as the giant shell impacted. He didn't see it land but he feels the ground shakes and watches as a geyser of dirt shoots into the air. Instantly his heart sinks, he has no idea if the wolves are there or even if the round landed in the clearing, but that didn't stop his mind from envisioning all the wolves, all of his friends lying in the snow, blood seeping out of their burnt bodies.
The Diablo lightly starts to laugh, "maybe we hit them, or maybe we missed," this causes Damon to whip his head back around to stare at the Fed. They're messing with him now, manipulation.
The Diablo radioman speaks briefly into the radio once more and the gun shifts its position once more as the lead Fed talks again.
"This time, we won't miss," he says in his familiar cold voice, "now tell us, who are your allies?"
Damon frowns slightly as the Diablo says this as something clicks in his mind. He looks back up at the Fed and says, "you know who my allies are, what do you really want?"
"What do we want?" The diablo asks as he levels himself with Damon as he speaks in a whispery voice, "we want you to suffer for what you put us through, amigo."
With that he turns to the radioman and continues to speak in English, "inform the tank to fire all of its incinerary rounds at the current coordinates."
Now Damon truly feels terror begins to enwrap him. U.S tanks have a total of fifty incinerary rounds in their inventory, more than enough to burn an entire forest down; the Feds must have the same number of shells as well.
The thought of the entire forest burning down…the pups trapped inside slowly burning to death…
The Ghost tries with renewed energy to break free. He is hit on the back again but that doesn't slow him down as he struggles to free his arm and stand on his legs. The Diablo behind him kicks his legs, forcing them to fold once more before the same object from before starts to slam against his skull multiple times.
Damon soon feels himself starting to lose consciousness, black and red stars popping in and out of his vision. His whole body is becoming weaker by the second, past wounds, muscle cramps and now the continuing beating is finally taking its toll on him. His body is curling into a feeble position; the grip on his arms is growing slack, but he is feeling too weak to try and break loose.
He feels his arms being moved till they are now being placed behind his back. He is unsure what is happening until he feels cold metal enclosing around his wrists and he knew he has just been handcuffed. He tries futilely to break his bonds, but this only angers his captors as the guy behind him once more hits his head, but this time with more force.
Blackness starts to set in as Damon's vision begins to fail, he tries to stay awake but it's too much. Finally the last of his strength fades as he falls to the ground, fresh blood falling into his eyes, blocking his vision.
He blinks the red liquid away just in time to see booted feet step in front of him. He looks up to see the head Diablo gazing down at him, the black glass that covers his eyes seems to be glowing with crimson malice. He raises his foot, position it over Damon's face and raises it further to inflict a powerful stomp. Damon steels himself the best he could, trying to prepare himself to take the blow when the foot finally falls.
The Ghost watches as if everything just slowed to a crawl, the boot slowly comes crashing down, coming closer to his face. All of sudden a dark shadow leaps on top of the soldier and buries its teeth into the Fed's neck. The boot misses its target and both the Diablo and the shadow went crashing down.
Damon, as well as the other Diablos, stares in confusion wondering what just happen when out of the corner of his eye, the Ghost sees more streaking colors, all charging at the Feds.
Grasping what the shadows are, the Ghost uses what strength he has left and fought back. He uncurls his legs and launches himself backwards, successfully knocking the Fed behind him off his feet.
The Diablo on Damon's right side turns to fire his weapon, but is brought down by two streaks of gold and brown.
Knowing he doesn't have much time, Damon jumps to his feet, only to remember that his hands are literally tied behind his back. Seeing his disability, the Diablo jumps up as well and engages. The Ghost dodges and side steps his attackers strikes, but with both his hands cuffed, it's a losing brawl. Pressing his attacks, the Diablo lands a brutal jab to Damon's midsection causing the Ghost to double over; this is a bad mistake for the Fed followed up with a powerful uppercut. Damon is lifted into the air for a second before landing back on the floor in a dizzy state.
The Fed takes out a knife and advances on the Ghost but his attention is diverted when a black furred body launches itself and is now hanging onto the Diablo's shoulder. The Fed grunts before slamming his fist into the wolf's side, causing it to yelp as it lets go of the Fed. The soldier than kicks the wolf to the floor and plants his left knee on the wolf's bruised body, causing it to let out another small cry.
The Ghost instantly identifies the pained voice; it's one of the pups, Max.
Seeing the Fed crouch over the young wolf with a knife in his hand is all the motivation Damon needed. He raises his legs and pulls them against his chest while he shifts his weight back, allowing his arms to move forward and have his restrain hands come out in front now. He stumbles back onto his feet, still daze from his most recent injury when he sees the Diablo holding the knife up, leveled with the Fed's neck.
Seeing his window, the Ghost rushes forward, the Diablo barley has his head turned when it is already too late. Damon throws his arms around the Fed's throat and pulls. The chain of his restraints pulls the knife in the Fed's hand against his neck. Realizing the danger, the Diablo jumps to his feet and tries to pull free of Damon's grasp. The Ghost feels his strength lapsing as the Fed slowly pulls the chains away from his neck. Suddenly Max is back on his feet and rushes forward, burying his teeth into the Fed's leg.
Now with his attention divided between the strangling Ghost and the wolf biting his leg, the Diablo begins to lose strength as he tries to dislodge both his adversaries, which works to Damon's advantage.
With whatever strength the Ghost could muster, Damon pulls harder on the chain, pulling the knife against the Fed neck. The Diablo begins to go into spasms as wet blood begins to seep out of the open wound. Max eventually lets go, looking mortified to find red blood on his coat, but Damon continues to hang on tight to the Fed, pulling and pulling until finally the Fed goes slack, legs going out from beneath him, head lolling around on his neck and fresh warm blood soaking the front of his combat fatigues.
Damon continues to pull however. He heard a rumor that sounded too absurd once, but now he is going to try and see if it's true. The Rangers on the front lines once said the Feds are able to mass produce weapons and materials because they are made of cheap, and very often, brittle metal. So maybe, just maybe, these cuffs are made of the same material, that is considering if the gossip is true…
With a mighty snap that causes the weaken Ghost to stumble away and fall on his behind, the chains break away, cut by the combat knife. Damon stares at the now broken handcuffs in wonder, unable to believe his luck. He is pulled from his musing by the heartbreaking sound of wolves whining in pain.
Realizing the others are in danger, he crawls to the fallen Fed and looks him over. His gear is pretty much intact, so he begins to strip the solider of his possessions. He takes the gas mask, grenades, knife, pouches full of magazines and a flash light. However he couldn't find the rifle, it must have been knocked out of his hands when Damon has impacted into the Fed. He searches the area but only finds a pistol, another P226. It isn't much and he isn't feeling much to riding to the rescue, but nevertheless, the Ghost gets back to his feet and turn to the battle scene before him.
It's pure unrelenting chaos. An unknown number of wolves are rushing around the Diablos, nipping and slamming into their legs in an attempt to bring them down to their level. The Diablos tries to raise their weapons, but every time they do, one of the wolves would jump and clamp down hard the Fed's hand before the Diablo swats them away. The Feds have wounds all over their bodies, claw marks and bite wounds mark their figures, there is even a Diablo with fresh blood running down from his neckline, but whatever meds the soldier are on, it's keeping them on their feet. With the apparent invincible Diablos and the fast moving wolves, both parties are at a standstill. The tank remains in the background, its turret fixed on the chaos before it, but it doesn't fire, probably out of fear of slaying their own.
Damon scans the scene in a matter of seconds before seeing a way of eliminating the remaining four Diablos. The Feds and wolves are solely focused on fighting each other, both oblivious to the Ghost as he stands and takes aim at the Diablo closest in the middle. He aims the weapon at his target, not a head or a heart, but the head of a RPG that is sticking up on the person's back.
"Wolves get to cover!" Damon roars as he fires a barrage of small caliber rounds at his target. Due to the recent months of training, it became almost like a reflex to the wolves to obey the demanding voice that belonged to the Ghost. The attacking furry hunters instantly disburse and scatter into the woods as Damon fires. There is a series of clangs as the bullets impact the grenade, one of the observing Diablos gives a shout of warning but it's too late.
Right where a Diablo has been standing, a ball of fire takes his place. Another Diablo standing next to the guy that Damon had shot disappears within the blaze as well. However, the remaining two Diablos are blown off their feet, seeming to be more in a daze rather than feeling the grasp of death taking them.
Damon, as well as Max who was standing by his side, are both blown off their feet and lands a few inches away from where they have been originally standing. Max returns to his feet after a minute of hesitation, the Ghost however remains on the ground. His whole body has been bruised; burn and cut, being thrown across the grown and scrapping the injuries all at once didn't help much in soothing the pain. He clenches his hands, only to find them empty, his new gun apparently have been blown out of his hand.
The young pup looks down at the human in concern as he asks, "Are you alright?"
Damon squints at the wolf through pained eyes when he hears the cranking sound again. He lifts his head up just in time to see the tank's gun pointing directly at them. He grabs the young wolf and pulls him down before rolling on top of him and covering Max's body with his own. No sooner did he cover the young wolf did he hear the tank firing once more.
He feels the heat as the massive bullet flies by overhead, but when it landed, he knew its different. The air becomes hard to breath, a rush of stifling air blows on them and even thought the human and wolf have their eyes close, they still saw the massive flash of red.
Slowly Damon raises his head and peers at the destruction before him. As far as he can see, trees have been leveled, snow melted, and fire is now burning on everything that counts as a fuel. Thankfully the flames are small and there is hardly any wind, hopefully the chances of a forest fire will remain low.
The sound of rushing footstep reaches Damon's ear once more. He turns just in time to catch the knife that was no doubt aimed at his head. The Diablo wielding the blade merely kicks the Ghost back to the floor and jumps on top of him. He pushes with all his might, trying to plant the blade within Damon's chest while the Ghost fights with all his might to keep the knife away from him.
Suddenly, jabbing his head up from under Damon's right arm is Max, who jumps and catches the Fed's right arm in his teeth. The Diablo allows a low agitated sound escape, but other than that, he continues to push the blade until it is just a centimeter away from Damon's shirt.
"Twist!" The Ghost shouts, "twist his arm!"
Max follows the orders quickly, he leaves the shelter of Damon's body and begins to pull the arm with all his might, trying to get it to turn. The Diablo tries to raise himself so he can kick Max away, but in that instant the Ghost allows his left hand to release the knife as it forms a flat cut hand and jabs at the soldier's throat. The Fed gasps as the air is cut off from the lungs, causing his muscles to grow weak. Now with both hands, Damon tears the Fed's fingers off the knife and grabs it. The Diablo tries to get the blade back, but at that moment Max jumps and rams his body against the Diablo, causing him to fall off Damon. The Fed tries to get up, but the Ghost rolls on top of him and in lighting fast secession, starts to stab the soldier's throat multiple times. After the first few slices, the soldier struggles, but after the tenth and eleventh slice, he stops struggling and Damon continues to slice away until the Diablo is a bloody corpse.
Slowly, the Ghost gets back up and turns to look at Max who is watching him with wide eyes. Finally the wolf says, "Meadow told us what you said."
Damon eyes the young wolf wearily before asking, "And after experiencing combat, do you now understand?"
The young wolf look from Damon to the carcass, he shivers before looking at the human, "a bit yeah."
Damon doesn't say anything for a minute until both the wolf and the human hears the deep rumbling and feels the earth beginning to shake. The Ghost instantly realizes what it is that's coming before he jumps to his feet and shouts at the young wolf, "Run to the forest!"
After the long nightmarish day, the young wolf doesn't hesitate as he turns tail and runs.
Damon is about to follow when he stops and looks at the downed Fed. His RPG still strapped to his back. Without thinking, Damon drops to the ground next to the Diablo and turns him over. He grabs the launcher and tries to tug it free, but the shoulder strap hangs on strong. He hears the tank coming closer as Damon takes out his newly claim knife and starts to saw the strap away. The pebbles around the Ghost begin to hop as the giant war machine rumbles in on his position. The strap finally gives in and breaks lose, he looks up just in time to see the treads of the tank just three feet away from him. Damon didn't have time to move, he stays there, kneeling by the side of the fallen Fed as he watches death approach. Its ten inches away, he can already feel the tank's rumbling shake his core as the machine approaches when suddenly something pushes Damon out of the way just as the tank rolls by.
The Ghost lays in the snow panting as he watches the back end of the tank continuing to move forward as it steamrolls everything in its path when he hears a voice next to him.
"Are…you…crazy?" the voice pants. Damon turns and sees its Kate speaking as she lies next to him with her tongue hanging out.
The Ghost didn't reply as he realizes he has the drop on the tank.
"Sorry," he simply says to Kate as he stands and holds up the rocket launcher. He rest the long tube on his shoulder, sights the rear of the tank and fires. Due to his weaken state; it's really of no surprise that Damon is blasted off his feet. Both he and a stun Kate watches as the grenade flies and hits the armored vehicle. There is a loud explosion as the grenade impacts against the hull of the vehicle, but other than that, no damage is visible.
The tank stops moving, only to turn in their direction. Damon curses as he pushes Kate along, "move, run!" He shouts.
They sprint away as the tank opens fire again, this time using regular shells, but that doesn't mean the damage isn't any less destructive. Both of them ducks as a shell zips by and creates another crater not far from their location.
They ran back into a part of the woods that is still standing, running for all their worth. Snow drops from the shaken limbs and weaken trees begin to fall around them as the tank pursues them, slowed by the natural roadblocks before it. Suddenly Damon doesn't know what is happening, but suddenly he is no longer there.
He is running through a green forest, summer's hot sun glowing on top of him as he ran, and there is someone there with him, someone familiar. When the person turns, Damon feels his guts twist into a knot as he looks into the familiar Ghost mask of Gordon, staring back at him with his familiar dark eyes. The forest all around them became splinters as bullets slam into them as they ran. Damon's pace slows until he is walking; what is happening? Is this some kind of a dream?
As he stands there, he hears two loud snaps echo around them. Gordon turns to look at him, but suddenly two red blotches appears on his chest, the Ghost stumbles before falling, bleeding out on the forest floor…just as Damon remembered it.
"Gordon!" Damon shouts, but before he could move, something slams into his side and sends him tumbling end over end as he falls into some sort of ravine. His body screams in pain and agony as his once closed wounds reopens once more as dirt and snow begins to burn them. With a mighty crash, the Ghost slams into the ground. He rolls and groans a little before he opens his eyes and looks around.
Is he still dreaming? It is the ravine, the place where he and Gordon were trying to run for safety. A small rocky wall faces him as he looks up and determines he fell from what looks like fifteen feet. He looks around, he remembers the place; this is where he landed after the grenade blew him away from Gordon, where he laid bleeding from the scars on his face, and where he first met the wolves.
As if to confirm this, a shaky Humphrey returns to his feet as he looks at Damon with a confused look as he demands, "are you trying to get yourself killed?"
Feeling slightly agitated, Damon growls back, "I don't know about you Humphrey, but getting chased and blasted by a huge tank isn't my idea of a picnic."
"What's a picnic?" the grey wolf asks before his eyes suddenly goes wide as he looks above Damon and his body stiffens as he shouts "Look out!"
Damon turns to see the threat, but it's too late. The Diablo lands a foot away from Damon, landing perfectly on his feet, before raising a leg chest high and kicks Damon. The Ghost falls back onto the floor as he feels the pain course through him.
He looks up into the black mask of the Diablo as he stares down at him. The Fed looks up when he hears a bark, Damon watches helplessly as Humphrey shoots forward, but the Fed knocks the wolf aside, causing a whine to escape from the wolf. Feeling the now familiar anger taking over, the Ghost tries to get back to his feet, but just as he raising himself onto his elbows, the Diablo kicks him in the face.
Blackness clouds his vision as he feels his mind shut down briefly before he regains consciousness. When he comes to, he finds a handgun pointing at his face, the Diablo looking menacing in the red light of the blaze.
"You my amigo," he says in broken English, "you're too dangerous to keep around."
Realizing the Fed's intention, the Ghost attempts to get back up, but the Diablo places a firm foot on Damon's chest, pressing the pained Ghost back to the ground. The Diablo pulls back on the hammer of the gun, takes aim at Damon and pulls the trigger. The Ghost watches in horror as the muzzle begin to flash, but something suddenly streaks towards the Diablo and clamp its teeth on the soldier's arm. The round went wild as the gun loses its bead and strikes the ground next to Damon.
The Ghost releases a loud curse as he covers his ears. The small sonic boom that the bullet released temporarily destroyed Damon's sense of hearing. He watches through squinted eyes as the Diablo wrestles with the wolf, trying to dislodge it from his arm. Suddenly more wolves join the fight, grey, brown, red, and a black shape converge onto the Diablo and joins the struggle. Two wolves took a leg each and hang on tight while a third jumps onto the Diablo's other arm. The other two begins ramming their bodies against the Fed in an attempt to knock him off his feet, occasionally jumping, trying to reach the Diablo's neck.
The Fed starts to fire off his gun in an attempt to hit his attackers; all he succeeded in is wasting his clip. Damon watches the unfolding action as if it's all a silent film flick; a ferocious fight without any sounds is surprisingly unnerving. The Diablo reaches for his vest and the Ghost becomes alarm when he sees the grenade in his hand.
"Get the grenade!" Damon shouts, "get it out of his hand!"
He hopes what he said was understandable words considering he can't hear himself, but it looks like the wolves got his message. Instantly they change tactics, they no longer focus on bringing their foe down, now they are attempting to rip his hand off. The all jump at the left hand, which is holding the grenade, each and every wolf grabs a piece of the arm and savagely yanks it down. The full force of the wolves is enough to pull the Fed to the ground, Damon is hearing a ringing in his ears now, but despite that, he is sure he hears what sounds like the Diablo's arm being dislocated.
As the Ghost gets into a kneeling position to try and stand, he is force back to the ground when the trembling starts. The tank is closing in again and it is close. Damon snaps his head back and looks up; the source of the rumbling seems to be originating from above and getting closer to the ravine's edge. He looks back at the mass of tumbling bodies where the Diablo's back is facing him, along with the grenade launcher.
"Clear the area!" Damon shouts as he forces his body to move. In a flash, the wolves disappear, leaving the Fed alone in the dirt, back still facing towards Damon. He turns when he hears Damon's approach but the Ghost tackles him and holds the Fed in a bear hug. The Diablo begins to slam his working elbow into Damon's ribs, causing the Ghost to grind his teeth in pain. Suddenly a shadow covers them, causing Damon to look up.
The tank is overhead, driving off the head of the gorge, probably unaware of the drop; with its weak underside exposed to him.
This is it; Damon has no time to rip the RPG off. Instead he rams a fist into the small of the Fed's back, forcing him down to his knees. Damon pushes the Diablo to lean over slightly, and with the tube still strap to his back and an already loaded rocket, Damon pulls the trigger. Smoke escapes from the exhaust as it flies upwards and detonates upon impacting the armored vehicle's weak underside. Flames and secondary explosions light the gears and pieces while larger explosions happen on top of the tank, destroying the gun and no doubt the people within the small compartment.
The treads however keeps on turning, it isn't long before it's halfway off the cliff. Realizing what is coming; the Ghost kicks the Fed forward before turning and sprints away. As he runs, Damon looks back just in time to see the tank fall. The Diablo looks up as the falling inferno closes the distance between them. He only has time to raise his arms over his head and release a bone chilling scream when the tank lands and silences the man. The force of the impact once again trips Damon and causes him to fall head over heel once more into the snow.
The Ghost lies there for what feels like days to him, after hours of shooting, fighting, and running, his body is about ready to fall asleep. However he feels something licking his eyelids, cold slobber that seems to be sticking to his skin quite tightly.
Damon releases a small sound of disgust as he opens his eyes ad finds he is face to face with a certain brown and white wolf.
"What are you doing here?" Damon moans as he lifts his beaten body off the ground.
"Saving your tail apparently," Meadow says as she lopes up next to him and nuzzles him lightly, "how do you feel?"
"Like Humphrey after one of his "brilliant" ideas goes horribly wrong," comments the Ghost as he gently scratches Meadow behind her ear.
"Hey! I do my best with what I got, ok?" Damon turns and sees Humphrey, Kate, Garth, Max and Ann walking towards them. All the wolves, including Meadow, are covered from head to paw in soot, dirt, and snow. They all look just like Damon, tired weary faces stretch to their limits, huffing in great heaps of air and their limbs appears to be shaking. The only one with a different attitude is Max who has a crazed smile on his maw as he mutters a single word, "awesome."
"I wouldn't say awesome," huffs Garth as he collapses on the ground, "I'd say that pretty much sucked."
"Ohraa," Damon says as he looks back at the recent battle, "Yeah that wasn't fun at all."
The region of the forest he is starring at has been completely destroyed. Trees as far as five hundred yards have been reduce to cinders. A small part of the forest have been set on fire, its dwindling down, but it left massive piles of ash in its wake. Snow and uncovered dirt marks the area of brutal hand to hand combat, along with splatters of blood and gore. Small holes are visible in the snow, on the bark of trees and skid marks on some stones, clues of bullets missing their target. There is also the massive tank that is burning, a nice bonfire that shoots flames twenty feet into the air.
At the thought of fire, the Ghost looks up and sure enough large plumes of smoke is floating into the air.
The Ghost wearily sighs before standing and says, "We need to leave, it won't be long before the Federation notices something is wrong, by that time we need to be gone."
The wolves groan in unison, but they stand up as well and together, the human and wolves walk deeper into the forest. As they walk, Damon looks down at the pups, all present except for Devan and Talia. He wonders if they're alright and weren't hurt in the attack, or do they simply no longer trust him anymore?
"Hey Damon!" The Ghost looks to whoever is shouting and sees that it's Kate. She jerks her head to the left and asks, "What do we do with him?"
The Ghost trudges forward and looks at what she is referring to. He is shock to find the unconsciousness form of a Diablo, the first one he took out. The leg is at a crooked angle while the head is hanging onto his side; the only signs indicating he is still out cold.
He then notices the AK rifle next to the Fed. He bends down and inspects it, an assault rifle with a grenade launcher underneath its barrel while it has a red dot reflex scope attached. The Ghost kneels over the Fed and slowly takes off his web gear and slings it onto his back, while also grabbing the Diablo's knife and pistol; he'll count the number of new supplies he attained later. He looks around once more and finds what he is looking for, it was blown a few feet away from its original spot, but his Lynx rifle is a foot away from him. He grabs it, makes sure its still in workable condition and slings it onto his overburden back as well, grunting slightly as the weight comes crashing down on him.
Garth walks up next to Damon and growls, "do you want to do it, or shall I?" he asks as flexes his claws at the downed Diablo.
"No," all the wolves stare at Damon, surprise mark on their faces as the Ghost explains, "We need answers, how did they find us? How do they know where we live? This Diablo may hold the answers."
"So what," asks Ann with a dangerous spark in her eyes, "you think he's going to just tell you what you want to know?"
"Of course not," the Ghost says as he grabs the Fed's foot and begins dragging him towards the location of the Alpha school, "I'm going to ask nicely."
* Fire