A/N: TGIF everybody! We've arrived at yet another chapter! So, it's finally time, huh? This part of the story has been one of the longest, starting all the way back in chapter 74, but now it's finally coming to an end. There were several reasons for the distance this covered but, for now, don't worry about that. It's time for a little action. Anyway, leave a review if you're so inclined and, as always, enjoy!

Chapter 88: The Hill

30 seconds. That's all I'd given myself. It was enough for me to cover a third of the base if I was healthy. With my leg in its current condition, I didn't want to push that hard.

30 seconds was more than enough time. I didn't need to reach the other holding area in that time, I just needed to be far enough the distraction would last me the rest of the way.

Pushing off with my left leg, I launched myself toward the roof of the next building. The area was relatively calm with most of the Raiders having been pulled north and, what few hadn't been, engaged with the support team.

After we were finished clearing out our former prison, there weren't many left. With the covering fire Danse's team would start sending from the southern approach, they'd be able to handle things.

Hopefully.

As much as I wanted to say it wasn't my job to worry about them, I couldn't help it. I'd been with them, I could have stayed and escorted the team out.

But we all knew, if the Raiders finished the fight up north, they'd be heading for us next. My job wasn't just to get our people, and as many prisoners as I could, out of the other part of the base, it was to keep the Raiders busy for a little while longer.

Plus… Castle was still out there. As selfish as it might be, I wanted revenge. I wanted her to pay for what she'd done. She didn't care about any of the Raiders I've killed breaking out. She doesn't care that I broke out, not really. No, she cares about her life and nothing more. This game she played with me, she did it because she wanted to take control of the Raiders and, probably, because she thought it was interesting.

That's why I wanted to take it from her; her life was the only thing she cared about.

15 seconds. I skirted along the rooftop. The next building was only a dozen meters from the edge of this one. Close enough to jump at a dead run.

The sky to the northeast was illuminated by gunfire. The Vertibirds were still pounding the base with their chin guns and door gunners. Not to say the Raiders weren't shooting back. I tracked more than a few rockets launching toward their sky-bound targets. All of them were unguided though, which meant it would be very difficult to hit erratically moving targets a klick off the deck.

My momentum carried me to the edge of the roof and I leaped into the air again. When I came down, I felt a twinge in my right hip. It didn't hurt, but it was a sign those combat stims had their limits.

5 seconds.

Deacon told me they'd placed explosives all along the western side of the base. They wanted to do more but, with the accelerated timetable, they weren't able to.

Sliding to a stop, I flattened myself to the roof.

An odd silence washed over the base like the darkening evening was preparing for what was about to happen. Maybe the prisoners had all taken cover. I know it was probably in my head but it felt like that last few seconds took an eternity to tick off my mission clock.

And then the silence was shattered.

Like with the plastic explosive Deacon had given me, it turns out the Railroad operative likes his explosions on the questionable side of "safe".

They all went off at once. I didn't know how many because what seemed like half of the base was turned into debris in an instant.

Buildings to my east erupted in an explosion that shattered pieces of their concrete structures or outright destroyed them. The blast was even louder than when Able set the charges off in the building.

We'd been inside for that one.

The shockwave slammed into the building I was on and I felt more than heard part of it collapse from the force of the concussion. Its thunderous clap rolled over me, shaking dust and dirt from every surface as if the particles had come to life and could fly. So much debris was thrown into the air, it took the evening into night, at least in my immediate vicinity.

Pieces of concrete started raining down but I was already up and moving, heading for the northwest corner of the building. Without shields, small chunks of what had been structures a moment ago were pinging off my armor.

Dropping to a slide, I slipped over the edge of the building and dropped the two stories to the dirt below.

I came down on my left leg -still no pain but who knew how long that would last- and rolled to absorb the impact.

To avoid as much debris as possible, I hugged the administrative building's western-facing wall. That didn't stop the occasional chunk from coming down on top of me.

The gunfire to my north hadn't started up again. Whether they meant to or not, that explosion was powerful enough to concuss someone in the open if they didn't have anything between them and the chain of blasts. Still, it was promising. I was almost at the main holding area. A few more seconds and I'd be back in the fight.

As I neared, I ran through a mental check. Somehow, the infiltration team had snuck my MK18, knife, and six magazines into the base. It was comforting to have a weapon I'd handled so much. The gun itself didn't have any sentimental value, I don't think, but I knew how to use it better than any other weapon I've picked up here.

That's to say nothing of the extra power from its magnum cartridges. If I ran into Raiders with armor better than what armies would use in the 18th century, it would punch straight through. What happened in the motor pool, with Lucas's men requiring headshots to kill, wouldn't happen again.

It wasn't what I was cradling, however. I was still carrying the stolen rifle, MK18 clamped to my back. That would come out if I needed it. For now, I'd save the ammunition.

Sliding to a stop at the corner of my most recent building, a barracks, I peered out into the opening past it. That's where they'd held most of the prisoners, from what Deacon had told me. There were three rows with four barracks each. They didn't know exactly how many there were, but the Railroad agent guessed the Raiders had over 100 people held prisoner there.

Not enough to overrun a base of thousands, but enough to cause damage. At least enough to be a distraction.

Bodies littered the rows of buildings, their blood pooling in the dirt. Most were Raiders, but some prisoners had been caught in the carnage too. Most were unarmed. Had they tried to run?

For every body, there were three active Raiders either pulling themselves together after the explosion or advancing on the barracks.

Almost as soon as I stopped at the corner, the gunfire started again. It looked like most of it was coming from the southwest barrack, closest to me.

While I don't know if it's dumb luck or the infiltration team had organized this somehow, it was the perfect position for them to be.

There was about 50 meters of open space between me and the building. It wasn't concrete like most of the admin buildings. The walls were constructed of weather-worn wood that had seen better days. It wouldn't stop a bullet so, unlike the support team, these guys wouldn't have very good physical cover.

With at least 150 Raiders in sight, and probably more on the north side of the buildings, this would be complicated. They didn't know I was here but, as soon as I start shooting, the game will be up and it'll be a race.

I pulled the radio Deacon had given me from a pouch at my waist and keyed the transmit button.

"Jackson, this is Damon, do you copy?"

A brief pause was followed by a short burst of static before the former Institute scientist spoke. "I hear you."

"Are you in the southeast barrack?"

"Yes."

"Affirmative" is much easier to hear over the radio.

Comms etiquette could wait.

"Copy that. What's your exit?"

"We got some more bombs rigged on the south side of the building. Planned on holding here until everyone else was clear."

That's a suicide mission…

"Not much of an exit strategy", I said into the receiver. "I'm on the northwest corner of the building directly south of you. You have approximately 150 Raiders on this side. I can get you through if you move fast and shoot as you go."

There was another brief pause but, before I could think Jackson was going to argue, he came back on the comms. "Understood. We'll go on your signal."

Even though I'd like to move inside this building where I could use alternate firing positions, we're operating on a short timetable.

"10 seconds."

This time, there was no response. I trained my sights on the Raider closest to me, a short woman carrying a rifle that was both too large and too heavy for her.

She was down an instant later.

By the time the bolt on my rifle had cycled closed, I had another Raider centered and dropped him.

I ripped through the first magazine and started drawing return fire, with just enough time to duck behind the corner an instant before the explosives went off.

These weren't as powerful as the main event but they still sent a blast through the space between buildings hard enough to force cracks in my cover to spread.

As long as the prisoners inside had been in cover, that would have been a great way to break out of the barrack. It would act as both a fragmentation grenade, turning the wood into dangerous shrapnel, and a concussion charge.

Sure enough, when I leaned back around the corner, the 130 or so Raiders were either reeling from the detonation or on the ground. I saw plenty with bleeding ears from ruptured ear drums.

That's all I gave myself time to take in. They'd recover soon enough and that "130 or so" needed to be a lot smaller.

My rifle came up and I started shooting again. First, the ones that were on their feet. I emptied the second magazine by the time I started seeing movement from within the cloud of dust the explosion had thrown up.

Prisoners were emerging from the blown-out portion of the building and making their way toward me. Some were sprinting in my direction, others fanned out and started firing at the remaining Raiders.

A new magazine was in my rifle and I was shooting too.

The number of Raiders was dropping but not fast enough. They were beginning to return fire and, with almost no cover available, it would turn into a bloodbath very quickly.

More prisoners swarmed from the building and started lobbing grenades into the masses of Raiders.

Then those explosives started going off.

… Maybe I underestimated Jackson's exit strategy.

The first prisoners reached me-

Buck.

The first person to reach me was Buck.

"Damon!" the large man shouted as he slid to a stop against the wall behind me. "Jackson told me to tell you we're good. We're gonna head south and link up with your people there. Don't worry about us." I came off my sights long enough to glance over my shoulder at him. He looked worse than the last time I saw him, blood running down his left arm from what looked like a graze over his deltoid. He was covered in dust and sweat, no doubt from the fighting and explosions.

"I know where Castle is. He said you would wanna know that."

This time, I stopped shooting altogether and turned to the now-former prisoner. More were streaming by us, heading south, but my attention wasn't on them.

"I would", I said over the shooting.

A small smile flashed across the man's face. "I wasn't sure." He pointed toward the northwest. "Just past the barracks, a big building on the edge of the base. Looks like someone blew out the east-facing wall on the second floor."

My eyes narrowed behind my visor. "Yeah, I know where that is." Was that on purpose? Did she hold up in the same building I extracted Deacon from intentionally?"

He nodded. "Good. I wanna shoot that bitch myself but- she has a heavy guard. I ain't getting through that." There was fire behind his eyes, even more than the first time we met when it looked like he was about to throw his life away just to get a punch on Castle. Just like me, he wanted revenge.

"I'll give her an extra."

"I'll have to take it. Go while you have this distraction."

Go? While they're still fighting?

Castle is dangerous. They seem to have things under control. Eliminating her will remove a major player for the Raiders. While their leadership is competent, they're still Raiders. They aren't as creative or conniving as Castle. They wouldn't have put a plan like this together.

Her life might be worth more than some prisoners.

Something about that sentiment felt wrong but it was probably true. Despite this plan failing, Castle has learned a lot in the last week. If she got another shot at me…

"Understood", I said and turned to head west across the street. The fight was still raging at my back but I had a new objective. A familiar one too.

But also… not. Castle wasn't part of a target package. I didn't know of her through briefs and intel. No, she was someone I knew. Someone I hated. Someone I wanted to kill. She put my people in danger to get to me and, if given the opportunity, would do it again.

And she embarrassed me. I'm not too proud to admit I don't like that I was outplayed by a Raider. She wanted to see me be a killing machine?

Treat this like any other assignment. What do I know?

… The building has three stories. I know the rough layout. Castle will be in the most defensible position that still has egress. Third floor or the roof, most likely.

I reached the west side of the street and passed between two buildings to put some cover between me and the fighting.

Fighting my way up through the building would give Castle time to escape. Best option is to start at the top and work my way down.

A trio of Raiders ran by the alley I was in. None of them saw me as they passed by. That was good. I'll need to keep a small footprint until I engage.

How long can 200 or so people, mostly untrained, disorganized prisoners, keep the Raiders busy?

Don't know but I need to move fast.

Once the three of them were gone, I peaked around the corner-

There were a dozen Raiders standing guard at the front of my target building.

Another twinge shot through my knee when I shoved myself back into the alley.

More careful.

Combat stims won't help if I tear the ligaments.

How to do this? Those were just the Raiders on this side of the building. That was the main ground floor entrance but I'm sure there are others around it.

No buildings close enough to jump from… Engaging might be my only option. She won't run as soon as her guard is engaged. That would be stupid and, whatever else I think about Castle, she isn't stupid.

Question is, did she choose this building? They all know this is where I broke Danse and the other prisoners out of the first time around. It could be a trap.

Am I sure she's in there? Buck could have been wrong.

The relatively heavy guard would suggest otherwise.

There isn't much time. If I'm doing this, it needs to be fast.

Okay, she won't run at the first sign of trouble. Fighting these guys isn't out of the question. I don't need to eliminate all of them because I'm going in from the roof. There were enough features on the south side of the building to use as hand and foot holds. Engage, move to the roof, breach from there. If I can keep them from knowing it's me until I breach, that gives Castle less time to run.

I took another quick peek into the street. The Raiders were arrayed around the door in a rough semi-circle. 14 of them. They didn't have time or feel the need to fortify the entrance. All they had were some concrete barriers dragged into place as cover. Not much else.

It doesn't look like the guard detail for a major asset during a large-scale fight.

The street was too bright to cross without being seen. How was I supposed to engage, cross, and-

Maybe I don't...

Maybe I don't make this complicated.

Maybe I show Castle what she wanted to see.

She decided to capture my people, my friends, and use them as leverage because she wanted to see what it looks like when I fight with the gloves off.

Move and fire, 15 seconds to get from here to the roof. I know the layout of the top floor, I can clear it in another 20 provided they don't have any serious entrenchments. Move to the second floor, it would be very difficult to run with me that close.

35 seconds.

Alright Castle.

Discarding the stolen combat rifle, I pulled my Mk18 from my back and slung it. When I peeked around the corner this time, I had the high-powered rifle shouldered.

My first shot took the furthest Raider in the jaw. I didn't wait long enough to see where the rest of her head went behind the spray of red. I was on to the next target. My rifle's bolt cycled closed, and another bullet was on its way.

The first three shots were stationary. Running and gunning, even for a SPARTAN, is a difficult proposition. The smallest movement can mean a clean miss, even from the few dozen meters between me and the Raiders.

As soon as the third bullet cracked from my rifle's barrel, I was running.

Keeping my muzzle steady at a dead run is something I've trained and done countless times. That doesn't mean it's perfect. Isolating my upper body from the bouncing that comes naturally with running is difficult and requires dexterity my right leg and arm weren't up to. It didn't take me more than one shot to realize that.

So I traded accuracy for speed. I have enough ammo to burn through a magazine on this cross.

Gunfire poured from the Raiders the instant they figured out where they were getting shot at from. By then, I was almost halfway to the building. They were scrambling for cover, their return fire was an order of magnitude less accurate than mine. It was more panicked volume fire than aimed shots.

While I didn't thin them out as far as I wanted, three more were dead by the time I disappeared behind the building. I doubted the rest would be interested in venturing into my line of fire. That bought me some time. My eyes switched from the corner to my target. There was some kind of utility unit halfway up the second floor. That would be my first hold.

Five meters from the concrete face of the southern wall, I planted my left leg and launched myself into the air. A bullet cracked by from the left just as I slammed into the side of the building and latched onto what turned out to be a heat exchanger of some sort.

The thing groaned as it took on my weight but it held.

I twisted so my rifle was positioned between my body and the wall, holding it with my right hand while my left kept me from falling.

A Raider peered around the corner from the other side and I fired. The round hit low, taking the guy in the upper arm instead of the head, but it was enough for him to tumble back behind cover.

Before anyone else could try their luck, I swung myself up to another hold, this one a piece of the building's structure. It was sturdy enough for me to jump to the third floor from it and, a few seconds later, I pulled myself onto the roof.

It was clear. Besides a large heat exchanger, probably for the building's AC, and a few antennae, it was devoid of cover.

The service door was to my left, facing the base's western approach.

Circling to it, I checked for any traps. Nothing.

The door itself had been replaced. Instead of the rusty steel of a pre-war security door, it was a patchwork of welded-together plates. They must have had to blow it when I broke out the first time.

At least it didn't explode into pieces when I kicked it in.

The latch gave with a sharp snap and the entire thing deformed as the force of the blow bent it in the wrong direction.

I jumped to the side to avoid-

There was no trap. No explosion. No gunfire.

My eyes narrowed. What the hell was going on here?

As I stepped back in front of the door, I didn't see anything in the staircase beyond.

When I shoved my way through it and into the staircase, nothing caught my eye as a potential trap.

What I did notice was the telltale sound of pounding boots. They were coming this way from the staircase.

After swapping my mostly empty magazine for a fresh one, I pushed out into the hall and turned toward the running.

The running gave me a real-time update on the approaching Raiders' position as well as my motion tracker would have. I knew when they were about to burst into my hall so I was ready as the first came into view.

My shot hit him in the neck. He was taller than I'd expected, but it still put him on the ground. The second one tried to stop, just like when Nate and I had first broken out.

And like that Raider, they didn't stop fast enough. Enough of their torso came into view to give me a clean shot and they were dead.

Then I was on the corner.

I didn't slow as I rounded it. My shoulder slammed into the head of the first Raider with a dull smack. He tumbled backward into another, taking him down too. There were five of them, too close to comfortably use my rifle.

Instead, I continued forward, flipping the Mk18 around and slamming its butt into the nose of the next man. His head snapped back and he did a half-cartwheel to the ground.

Three were still up, one was down but under their compatriot, and two were dead.

My momentum carried me into the middle of the remaining Raiders. I didn't bother with anything fancy. The one directly ahead of me took a shoulder, like the first. I jammed the barrel of my rifle into the chest of the next and pulled the trigger. The last one tried to bring his rifle around but, before he could, I kicked in his left knee and he slammed to the concrete floor.

With a bullet to him and the other one who was still struggling to get her dead friend off of her, I was moving toward the stairs.

More were coming. I could tell from the cacophony of footsteps, it wasn't as many.

We met at the top of the staircase. I emerged over it just as the first one got there. Three more Raiders. A large, armored boot to the chest sent the first one crashing back down the stairs and two bullets for the others.

Another twinge, this time in my shoulder, told me the strain was starting to get to my already damaged joints.

That registered about as much as the three Raiders. By the time I was at the bottom of the stairs, I didn't care about the injury. I could feel Castle close. I wanted her to be close. Because that meant I wasn't far away from killing her. Revenge for all of this. For organizing the hit on the Farms. For organizing the capture of my people. For putting this whole show on. I heard Bryan scream when Brent was killed. I saw the anguish on Jessica's face when she told me the support team had been taken. I watched Vince die, the flash of his collar burning into my eyes. I felt the pain and rage I had when I realized what happened, and that it was in pursuit of me.

The rage that she thought she could turn me back into what I was to ONI for her.

I was never going back.

Even though I tried to push the thoughts away as I burst into the hall beyond, I couldn't. Not completely. The handful of Raiders that greeted me fared about as well as the ones on the stairs.

Once they were gone, I edged toward the room where I'd found Danse and the other prisoners. It had also been a cafeteria. This one was probably for the administrators who worked in the building.

Now it was empty.

They'd gotten rid of the poorly made cages that had been here last time. It didn't look like they were using it for anything. The large hole in the wall, where they'd likely launched a rocket through, was still there. I could hear the sounds of fighting seeping through it. Judging by what I could hear, the Vertibirds were moving in this direction.

But there was something else just at the edge of my hearing. It was at the back, behind the counter where diners would collect their food.

Voices. Shouting. I couldn't tell who it was but I knew that's where I'd find Castle.

My time was short. More Raiders were running into the building below. They finally figured out what was going on.

With one more look around, I slipped over to the counter and climbed past it. Once I did, I was greeted with another steel service door.

Now that I was closer, I could make out distinct voices.

One of them was Castle.

"- shouldn't I right fucking now", one shouted. I recognized the voice. It was one of Lucas's men. The one who had pounded on the vault door with a crowbar. He'd been with Castle ever since then.

"You wouldn't wanna piss him off", Castle said back. Her voice, while loud, was significantly more calm and in control.

"It won't matter, Castle."

I reached the door and did a quick check for traps. None that I could see.

"I'll put in a good word for you. He might let you live."

There was no way to tell if the door was wired on the other side but, with them in there, I doubt it.

So I launched another kick into the door, right over the latch. My armored boot mangled the thin steel and the small metal locking lug snapped.

The door exploded open and I surged through and to the right. My right arm collided with something. There were three people in front of me, two of Lucas's men, and Castle. All three of them were scrambling away from the door.

What I'd run into was another Raider. He was in the middle of sprawling backward and slammed into the wall behind him.

My sights found the first Raider as the second, probably the one who'd been talking, ducked behind Castle.

The bullet took the first, younger, man in the neck and he stumbled and fell.

A second round found the one I'd run into. The third-

The third was behind Castle, a handgun jammed into the side of her head.

"STOP!" he screamed. "She dies if you don't drop your gun!"

… What the hell? What was going on here?

The only thing that kept me from putting a bullet through Castle's head and into his was my confusion. Why would I care if he killed Castle? I was here to kill Castle.

He was peeking around the side of her head to the left, just enough for his left eye to be visible.

I put a bullet through it and he dropped like the lights got turned out.

"Thank you, Damon", Castle said as the report faded, seemingly unbothered by the blood splattered on the side of her face. "I appreciate that."

"Why did he think I'd care if he killed you?" I demanded. It wasn't relevant, I don't think, but I was so confused, I couldn't think of what else to say.

"Because I told him you did." She smiled at me. That same, empty smile. "Remember when I said we needed each other? You needed me to make sure you stayed alive long enough to escape. Now I need you to get me out of this hellhole."

My finger was still wrapped around the trigger, combat scope centered on the bridge of her nose.

Get her out? "Why the fuck would I bring you with me?" I hissed. "I've never wanted to shoot someone more."

"I see now, I was wrong about one thing with you: you're pragmatic. Very pragmatic." She swallowed. Hard. That smile was more for show now than it normally was, it seems. "So when you get the opportunity to capture someone with a significant amount of information on a dangerous enemy, I trust your pragmatism to win over… whatever this sad attempt at anger is."

She wants to give me intel on the Raiders. In exchange for her life.

FUCK.

Castle knows about the Raiders. She was this base's leader before the bigwigs showed up. Even now, after everything, she's their best strategist. She knows everything about their operations. Logistics, personnel, armament, deployment, even future plans.

My finger was still on the trigger, pressed against its break. Any movement would turn her head into a canoe.

It was hard- so hard to not pull the trigger. I wanted to pull it. And I know what she's doing. Just like everything else she's done since I've gotten here: she's hedging her bets. She's putting herself in what, she believes, is the best position possible to 'win'. If I take her with me, if I let her live, I'm not only letting her win, I'm the one winning for her. This last gamble was on me. She was betting I'd keep her alive for what she knows. Because she knows a lot.

And, fuck me, she's right.

Pulling my finger away from the trigger was unbearable. It was like fighting against a tide but- I had to. Because the smart thing to do is use her for her intel. Even if I know she's using me too.

I didn't bother threatening her. Saying something like "I'll kill you if you try anything" would be moronic. First, she already knows what I'll do if she does something dumb. And second, she wants me to take her.

That didn't mean I would be nice about it.

Lowering my rifle, I stepped forward and grabbed the small woman. She barely weighed anything. I threw her over my left shoulder and ran from the room. I heard her scream as I did but it took me a heartbeat to realize it was from pain. Then I remembered I'd broken her arm half an hour ago.

Good. At least this little escape plan of hers would be agonizing.

As I ran for the stairs, I couldn't help the feeling of betrayal. Castle deserved to die. She deserved to have me kill her. She'd organized my killing of innocent people. She'd put other prisoners in the Gauntlet and a fighting ring with me twice. Now, after that, here I am saving her. What the hell is wrong with me?

My legs pumped as I took the stairs five at a time back up to the third floor. Raiders were behind me but moving at a fraction of the speed.

Castle was jostling as I ran out onto the roof. She cried out in pain once every few steps. They must not have splinted her arm.

This isn't 'saving' her. I'm taking her to Sanctuary so I can interrogate her. She's an asset.

Doesn't matter. She's getting out of this alive. And, at the end of it, all she wants to do is survive.

That's what I'm giving her. I'm giving her her life when I came here to take it.

Yeah, it felt like I was betraying myself with this one.

A few seconds later, I reached the roof and scanned for more threats. No one had made it up here. The prisoner fighting was moving further south, the sounds of gunfire in that direction almost at the edge of the base.

The Vertibirds were moving further in. Instead of being at the northeastern fringes, they had taken up position near the motor pool where the Raider leaders were held. They wouldn't have anything to punch through their reinforcements, unfortunately.

More importantly for me, it sounded like most of the Raiders who had been standing guard outside were now inside.

That was good. I needed to make this fast and, with Castle riding on my shoulder, I wasn't going to be engaging in any gunfights.

I made my way to the west side of the roof. Beyond that was a crossing to the base's long-eroded perimeter and the long climb up the hill. That was my path last time. I'd made the climb down both injured and carrying someone.

This time, I didn't care much if my passenger was comfortable on the way.

Slipping over the edge, I dropped a few meters before catching myself on a ledge.

Castle yelped again.

The next drop took us to the bottom of the second floor, then down to ground level.

As soon as my boots touched dirt, I was sprinting south. Every impact made its way into Castle. At one point, I think I heard something snap and she screamed again. This scream didn't subside until I was several hundred meters away from the building.

The gunfight was close, only a few buildings away. If I crossed back to the interior of the base, I'd probably be able to see shooting.

There had been a few groups of Raiders on my way but I was able to lose them before any could land a shot on me or Castle.

That would be significantly harder now.

With the proximity to the primary fight, I needed to be combat-effective.

Slipping into an alley, I dropped Castle to the ground.

"One meter to my left and in front", I commanded.

She glared but didn't say anything even though I could see pain in both her eyes and the way she wasn't standing quite upright. I wanted her to say something. I wanted her to more than anything. Say something about me. Say something about the Minutemen. Give me any reason to turn my gun on you again, after all this, and end your goddamn life.

No. All I got was a grunt and she started walking toward the gunfire.

I felt my hand twitch and I had to control the impulse to slip my finger onto the trigger.

Out on the road, there were dozens of Raiders, maybe more, chasing after the retreating prisoners and Minutemen. Too many to get through safely with Castle.

"Cross", I barked and pointed to the row of buildings on the east side of the street. It was a 20-meter run. I could make it in a split-second and, even if the Raiders saw me, I wasn't in any danger.

That's something I couldn't say for Castle. I'd have to care about that to worry.

She hesitated for a moment before beginning an awkward half-run, heavily favoring her right side.

Once she'd made it a little less than halfway, I followed, keeping my rifle trained on the Raiders to the south. They were pushing hard, trying to get to the escapees before they were out of their reach.

Making it up that hill after we get out of the base… that's gonna be a challenge.

One step at a time.

We reached the far side at the same time and I shoved Castle forward. She didn't like it if the second glare she shot my way meant anything. I didn't care. Whatever pain she was in was her problem.

The other side of the building wasn't clear but it was far less populated than the first street. They were doing a good job coordinating this escape. It kept their numbers concentrated to minimize the effect of being vastly outnumbered, allowed their shooters to worry about one approach, and gave the sniper support from up the hill one area to focus on.

It also took advantage of the Raiders' general lack of combat intelligence.

Apparently, they were far less creative and regimented when they were the ones being attacked than when they were attacking and able to put together a plan.

That was reassuring considering we would be, at some point, dealing with this problem for real.

Castle turned south at my order and, other than having to put down the occasional Raider, and one group, we made quick progress parallel to the fighting.

We were getting close to drawing even with the fighting lines when I felt more than heard something rumbling from the southeast.

What's that? It was a deep thrum pulsing through the ground. The vibration and noise reminded me of a starship accelerating but- we're on solid ground. And I doubt these people have fusion-drive-powered space-worthy craft lying around.

Then I saw them. Four large cargo trucks, very clearly military design judging the boxy, utilitarian footprints. Some things never change. Jessica had said the Raiders here have running vehicles and that massive stock of parts in the basement of the other motor pool…

Before I could aim the small convoy trundling toward the escapees, I noticed the backs were empty. There's only one reason those trucks would be there without Raiders.

The infiltration team had stolen them for exfil.

A grin slipped across my face. We'd chosen right to get the Railroad involved. These people knew what they were doing.

And I had to give the former Institute scientists credit; they've done an incredible job in a difficult situation.

It isn't over yet.

No, but this has been an impressive performance.

That it has.

The gunfire poured out from the south. The support team and prisoners must have been putting down suppressive fire with their exfil coming in. It was… an amateur mistake. They already had the Raiders held at bay, and the rest of their forces were focused on defending their leadership. Picking up the rate of fire would only tip the Raiders off.

Oh well. Can't do anything about it.

At the next intersection, I ordered Castle to the west. It was time to link back up with everyone and get the hell out.

While those trucks were large, there was no way we'd be fitting 200 people in them. Some of us would have to stay back and provide cover as they left. Overloading the trucks would only make everything more dangerous.

"Friendly!" I shouted as we approached the gunfire. There was no way they'd hear me over the deafening wave of reports.

Maybe I wasn't too concerned with Castle's safety, but I wasn't letting her get shot by one of the prisoners or Minutemen after dragging her down here with me. I pulled her behind me and, as if by magic, a round cracked by my left shoulder.

Another skipped off the ground by my right boot and a third glanced off the titanium plate over my left thigh. Two prisoners had taken cover at the corner of a building. Neither had much experience in a gunfight, judging by how they were practically on top of each other.

That wasn't important. Since, against every instinct that was currently screaming at me, I wasn't going to return fire, the important part is they figured out I'm a friendly.

I held my hands up and tried again. "FRIENDLY!"

Two more bullets whizzed by, neither close, before the former prisoners got the message. Their eyes were wide and, even from two dozen meters away, I could see their chests heaving for air.

"Okay", I muttered.

Continuing forward at a jog, I reached the corner around the same time three more people got there. One of them was a member of the infiltration team, Corey.

"Damon!" he shouted. He couldn't hide the relief in his voice. "And-" his eyes narrowed. "Castle."

Yeah… "Take her to one of the trucks, tie her up if you want." I didn't feel the need to tell him about her broken arm and… whatever else I'd done during the run over here.

There was only a moment's hesitation before he nodded. "Deacon, Nate, and Able are that way", he waved to the back of the 'formation' where the trucks were just starting to line up. "We're out of here in five minutes."

"Understood", I said.

"Thanks, Damon!" Castle shouted from beside me. The Raider shot me a smile as she walked over to Corey.

It took a conscious effort to keep my hands on my gun and my gun pointed away from her. This mfer did all this and I'm letting her live. And she has the fucking balls to be snide about it.

Later.

My attention turned to the north. Most of the gunfire was coming from the prisoners. They were in cover behind whatever they could find; buildings, a few concrete barriers, two more burnt-out cars, and various other debris. Considering the targets, or lack thereof, their fire was intended to prevent pursuit more than eliminate targets.

All I caught of the Raiders was a few glimpses of one peeking out of cover to take a shot in our direction. The road had several dead bodies in it, but not enough to suggest a major push had happened yet. From what I could tell, most of the Raiders were still in cover behind the buildings on either side of the street.

Problem is, the Raiders could move through buildings or down flanks, like I had. They'd figure that out soon enough. It would be much more dangerous when we started loading people.

I trotted south, where Nate and the others were gathered. I caught a few glances as I passed the escapees. A few of the support team sent me a wave when I saw them. It only took a moment to find the ex-soldier. He was standing beside one of the trucks with Deacon and Able.

As I drew near, the three of them turned to me.

"Welcome back!" Nate called over the roaring firefight. "We're gonna need to put down some cover fire while people get loaded. They're thinking five minutes so let's count on eight."

That was a good policy. My first thought was I could move off and distract the Raiders but… I don't think even I would be enough bait to draw them away from this fight.

"We play this by the book", I said. "Your call."

Nate nodded. "Fall back 10 at a time, front to back. Once each truck is full it goes. We can get 30-40 in each. Best guess is around 200 people so we'll have a lot humping it up the hill. When a truck gets to the top, it drops the people it hauled up and they provide covering fire with the recon team." He turned to Deacon. "We do not send the trucks back in. That just gives the Raiders more shots at them."

The Railroad agent frowned. "If we got 40-80 people making that climb… a lot ain't makin' it."

"I know", the ex-soldier admitted. The low, almost pained mumble said he did know. "But I'll be one of them so-"

"No", I interrupted. "You're the best shot out here. You're up there", I jerked my head toward the top of the hill, up the four-lane road crowded with piles of rust that used to be cars. There were so many, the trucks would have to use the shoulders to make it up. "Coordinate our forces' fire. I'll come up with the rear." I looked at Deacon and Able. "Able, you're with me, Deacon, you're up with Nate."

The ex-soldier frowned and, I'll admit, it was bad doctrine. I just said it was Nate's call and here I was countermanding his orders.

But I was right and he knew it.

"Do what's right for the mission", I said.

After a heartbeat's hesitation, his jaw set and he nodded again. "Let's get moving. Damon, go up, get with Buck and Jackson, they're all the way out front on the east side of the street, start the pullback."

"Affirmative."

I turned and ran back toward the north side of our already compacting formation. The Raiders had figured out what was going on and started forcing forward. 20 or 30 bodies were on the ground. Not all of them were dressed in iron and leather.

It only took me a few seconds to spot Jackson and Buck. They were, like Nate said, near the front on the right side. The two of them were taking cover behind a building with another half-dozen former prisoners.

"Start pulling back", I called over the gunfire as I slipped into the same cover. "10 at a time, front to back, remaining forces provide cover. I'll move to the forwardmost line to keep the Raiders from advancing.

Buck nodded. "I'm with you."

"Copy", I turned to Jackson. "Lead the retreat."

The former Institute scientist nodded. "Got it. Can you help me let everyone know?"

"Affirmative", I replied.

"Thanks." Jackson looked at the escapees around us. "You guys first." He waved toward the trucks. "Get out of here."

All of them looked from Jackson to Buck. The man who, I'd guess, was their unofficial leader nodded. "Load up."

They all tried to hide the relief on their faces but they couldn't. It was too much. They were getting out of an impossible situation. One they probably thought they'd never survive. Each of them took a deep breath, several smiling, and, careful to stay in the building's cover, retreated toward the trucks at the rear.

"Give me 30 seconds", I said to Buck.

He nodded.

My first target was the remains of a concrete barrier five meters out of the building's cover. With the volume of gunfire pouring into the street, it would be dangerous for them to pull back from that position. I'd have to bring them back to the building for a safe retreat.

Slipping out of cover, I crossed the short distance without bothering to aim or fire. It was close enough to not matter.

The two escapees hiding behind it almost jumped when I slid to a stop beside them and ducked behind their protection.

"Move to that building", I said, pointing at where Jackson and Buck were waiting. "Get to the trucks south of us."

After a moment, I got a nod from both and they darted toward the building.

I stifled a wince at their lack of awareness. They made it without incident.

And then the retreat began. I moved from cover to cover, conveying the message to the forwardmost prisoners holding the advancing Raiders back. Several I had to escort to safer positions before they began their retreat.

… More than a few were caught on their way back.

Despite that, I was able to move quickly and get the first wave of former prisoners sent back. Once they were, I caught Jackson waving at me from his cover and he retreated toward the rear.

Buck, like he said, stayed at whatever line was retreating, providing covering fire and helping get the escapees out. I ran into several of the support team including Miranda, Laura, Blake, and Trent, as I spread the message.

They were just as relieved as the other prisoners to be pulling out.

In five minutes, almost all of the escapees were in retreat. The last truck was full and it started its journey up the hill.

By then, I'd reached the south end of the base, what's left of its fortified perimeter the only thing between me and freedom. There were maybe 25 people with me. Able had stayed back, along with Buck and-

"Good to see you with all this going on", Brenda said as she pressed herself to the wall beside me, offering me a tense smile.

I blinked. "... Yeah." Why- didn't you go in one of the trucks? I wanted her to have gone in one of the trucks. Not like I could do anything about it now.

"Let's get out of here."

"Copy that", I replied, forcing the concern to the back of my mind. Or trying to, anyway.

"Buck", I called to the large man. He was taking cover behind a row of gabion barriers with most of the remaining escapees. It was about 10 meters south of me and the last cover the base offered before we had to start the climb. "Get the first 15 moving. We leapfrog up the hill."

"Got it!" came the reply.

"Brenda, go with the first group."

She frowned at me. "I can-"

"Yes", I interrupted, "I know you can handle yourself." The Raiders were pressing now with only us and the covering fire from several hundred meters up the hill to keep them back. I leaned out and sighted on an approaching duo. Both of them were down before I pulled my rifle back around the corner.

"Please go."

Even though she looked like she wanted to argue, the young woman slipped away from the wall and back to the gabions. That left Able and I the only ones in the base's perimeter.

"Moving!" Buck shouted from their cover.

"Go", I said to the Railroad agent, pointing to the cover behind us.

He nodded and, as he moved, I rounded the corner again and opened fire. The Raiders were moving forward steadily now. They didn't have free reign, whenever one of them moved too far out of cover or stayed exposed too long, they would start taking fire from the hill behind us, but they weren't stationary anymore.

By the time Able had reached the cover behind us, I'd dropped another two Raiders and began moving back to join him.

Almost there.

All we had left was a 400-meter climb with no cover beside the burned-out remains of cars.

The easy part…

Buck was leading the first group to the cars. When I reached the gabions, I turned to look over them and emptied what was left of my third magazine. Three left. 60 rounds to make the climb.

I didn't like that math.

This isn't what I do. Not well, anyway. SPARTANs in general aren't significantly more useful in this situation than high-quality standard infantry. Yes, I can fire faster and more accurately. Yes, I can risk taking hits. But against a large, advancing force, without the ability to move, tied to a single spot to keep retreating allies safe, I can't impact the fight the way I should be able to.

As I listened to the rapid, almost manic gunfire of the other escapees around me, I couldn't help but think how much more valuable I'd be if I could fight my fight. It doesn't matter how much punishment I can take if whoever I'm trying to protect still only needs one unlucky bullet to land.

My scope found another Raider, this one trying to duck into cover behind the far side of the building I just left. He was the furthest forward in their advance.

His overachievement got him a bullet through the bridge of his nose.

Most of his friends weren't far behind. We had, maybe, 100 meters of cushion. The buildings lining either side of the street were roiling with Raiders at this point. At least a few hundred. Their incoming fire wasn't accurate but, with this many of them shooting, and as many targets as they had, they didn't need to be.

Another shot, another advancing Raider down.

58 rounds left.

A bullet smacked into the top of the gabion barrier to my right and shattered sending shrapnel scattering past my shoulder.

Buck's group had just reached the cars.

"Move!" I barked.

Able and the others began their retreat while I stayed on the barrier and continued firing.

56. Another Raider dead.

55. Narrow miss on one as she ducked into cover.

54. The bullet caught one overzealous Raider trying to make it to the gabions in the neck and he tumbled to the ground.

After one more shot, I began backing away from the safety of my cover, careful to avoid placing my boots on the wrong piece of loose concrete.

It only took a few steps for a round to hit. The bullet caught me in my right pauldron and glanced off. Small caliber, didn't do any damage, but more would be coming soon.

Pacing backward and firing was easier to do than shooting at a dead run. My right arm and leg were beginning to ache. It was dull but it was there, slowly seeping into my abdomen and chest. The combat stims were wearing off.

53. Hit in the head, closing in on the last building.

52. Shot to the chest of another. It was rushed but enough to put them down.

51.

50.

When I was halfway through my magazine, and the covering fire picked up from behind me, I turned and ran for the others.

Buck's group had taken cover among the cars on the road and sparse trees and rocks on either side. They were firing back down into the base to cover Able's group that was just reaching them. The Railroad operative's escapees would continue up the hill 50 meters or so before turning to do the same.

My job was to stay with whatever group was closest to the approaching Raiders.

I slid to a stop beside Buck, my boots kicking up dirt and gravel, and knelt. The Raiders coming after us were just reaching the far side of the gabion. It felt like there weren't as many as there had been during the initial retreat. The Brotherhood's Vertibirds were still in sight, at the northeast corner of the base. With the lack of outgoing fire from them and their slow climb into the evening sky, it looked like they were about out of steam.

We needed to be gone soon.

Best way to do that is to keep the Raiders back.

Pulling my rifle back up, I centered my sights on a Raider who had her rifle propped on the gabion and firing at something to my left. She looked like the Raider I'd missed when she ducked behind a building.

Round 49 didn't miss its mark and she fell behind the cover, rifle dropping at the same time, left eye and a large portion of her head missing.

More of them were beginning to push forward from further in the base. This wasn't over yet.

I kept my breath calm and heartbeat slow, taking an extra instant to make sure each trigger pull counted.

My fourth magazine was empty by the time I heard the telltale sounds of Able's group firing over us down toward the base.

"GO!" Buck shouted and the people with him began retreating up the hill.

Mimicking what I did at the gabions with a fresh magazine in, I backed up the hill behind them. Avoiding the cars while moving backward was difficult but I wasn't about to take my eyes off of the approaching wave of Raiders.

Our covering fire from the top was picking up. They must have been-

A scream took my attention from the Raiders for a heartbeat. It was cut off an instant later. Didn't take a genius to figure out what just happened.

It… may not have been my most virtuous thought, but I could only hope it hadn't been one of the support team.

Once my second-to-last magazine was half-empty, I turned and started up the hill after everyone else. I weaved between cars, staying low and maintaining a meandering path. A few bullets came close, one tore a hole through the rusty steel of a car's B-pillar right beside my head, but none managed to land.

That was good considering my shields couldn't keep my armor from being damaged anymore.

Buck and his group were passing Able's a dozen meters ahead of me. They'd stop a little less than halfway up the hill.

Getting there.

The other escapees were visible at the top, taking cover behind whatever they could, firing back down into the advancing Raiders. It slowed their progress and kept them from being able to take free shots but that didn't mean it was perfect.

As I watched, another one of the escapees, a former prisoner a few meters to Buck's right, had a chunk of their neck torn out by a round. They didn't even have enough time to scream before their trachea filled with blood. She tumbled out of sight between two cars.

Able was behind a car to my right, his rifle propped up on the fender, taking slow, controlled shots down at our pursuers.

"We got more moving in from the east", he shouted as I took up position to his left, behind another car.

I looked to my right, past him and his cover, and saw more Raiders trying to exit the base from another road. There were probably 30 of them angling toward us. Two dropped and the others scrambled for cover.

"Our cover has it handled", I responded as I fired round 29. "That means we have less help here."

He didn't respond. The operative was still focused on his gunshots, firing once every few seconds. Able had to be exhausted, a week of being the Raiders' prisoner and now this.

But he was wired. I recognized the narrow-eyed focus. With the adrenaline I'm sure he had in his bloodstream, I doubt he felt the fatigue.

Round 28 hit a Raider who had been trying to climb past two cars that ran into each other in the forehead. He tumbled forward and out of sight.

27. That shot punched a hole-

"AHHH!"

My head jerked to my right, and I saw Able fall back away from the car, scrambling to his right, before collapsing to the broken concrete.

Shit. A pit opened in my stomach as I watched. Like everything in combat, it played out in slow motion, exactly like when I'd been fighting KLEO and the armored Raider.

This time… it wasn't because I was excited about a fight.

"Where?!" I shouted once I reached him.

Even over the sounds of gunfire, I could hear his labored, rattling breath. When I turned him over, the Railroad operative had a hand squeezing his neck, blood gushing through his fingers.

Shit.

His face had already gone pale and, as I pulled him into a sitting position against the car, he coughed, loud and wet. Blood came bubbling out of his mouth.

The man's eyes went to the ground behind me, and he pointed at a small satchel lying on the ground next to where he'd fallen.

I handed it to him and he began digging through the bag. Did he have something to treat the wound? A Stimpak? Would a Stimpak treat a wound like that?

A glance over our cover told me we didn't have much time for it to work. The Raiders were maybe 80 meters further down the hill.

When I looked back down at Able, he didn't have the large syringe in his hand, he was holding a head-sized… object. It was steel, roughly spherical, and painted a dull green.

"Bomb", he managed and pointed up the hill before coughing so hard he doubled over.

My jaw tightened to the point I couldn't respond.

No. No, we're right here! Our escape was 250 meters away. Not after all this. Not after how much work he did to get everyone else out. Not with how much the Minutemen need him.

Not someone I'm responsible for.

"No", I hissed through my teeth and took another shot at a Raider who was trying to approach on the west side of the road. He stumbled and dropped to the ground, a structurally superfluous hole in his chest.

Not- not a friend.

"Does that have a timer?"

Able shook his head, mouth open, taking long, ragged gasps. It sounded more like boiling water than breathing. "Too-" he tried but all that followed was more coughing and blood. His head tilted back against the rusted steel of the car door and he closed his eyes. After an instant's hesitation, Able shook his head again.

Time slowed to a crawl as I peered back over our cover and fired at my next target. The high-powered round burst through the woman's nose that, in the quarter-speed I was watching the world through, resulted in a spectacular spray of blood and brain behind her.

I- I didn't want to. I didn't want to leave Able there. I didn't want him to die with safety so close. That wasn't fair. It wasn't fair Castle got another good person killed. That gunshot- it wasn't fatal. We could get him treatment we could-

But it puts other people at risk. He knows that. I know that.

No, I can get him out. I can carry him up to the next group and they can take him to the trucks.

We're already short on guns. If I take myself out of the fight, then two more people up there, I'm asking for trouble. And then they have to carry him 200 meters to the trucks under fire.

Just like with Vince- it had been so sudden. He was just there, up and fighting. I know it sounds naive but- he's a well-trained, experienced operative and, if what I've seen here is anything to go by, a good fighter. He was there, doing his job, covering the retreat, and now-

And now he's dying because of Raiders. Yes.

…

…

"FUCK!" I screamed and ducked back behind the cover, glaring at the wounded man. Blood was gushing from the wound, soaking his shirt and pants. He'd already lost so much. "I can get you out."

That was a lie.

Able fought to take his next breath and shook his head for a third time

The pit in my stomach opened into a chasm and a lump climbed into my throat.

"I'm sorry", I said, the bitterness in my voice so concentrated, so painful, I could even hear it.

The agent managed a small smile. A labored gasp. Able opened his mouth but, instead of words, more blood came out and he coughed again. Some of the air bubbled through the hole in his trachea.

He nodded up the hill.

When I glanced back, Buck's group was starting to fire down past us, taking their turn to cover the retreat. It was time to move.

"MOVE!" I shouted and met Able's eyes one more time. He was still smiling.

Then I turned and began up the hill. I didn't look back. I couldn't look back. I- I don't know why. I've seen people die. A lot of them. I've even seen a few people I know die. Recently.

But, I think, if I'd looked back, I would have stayed at that car with Able. He didn't deserve this. They were captured because of me. And we needed him, his experience and expertise.

… And I didn't want to leave him there. Alone.

It was all… just so sudden.

I forced myself to keep moving. More people would die if I didn't. And I could have that.

Not now.

"I'm sorry." What a pathetic thing to say. "I'm sorry." He's dying and all I can do for him is say "I'm sorry." Some fucking SPARTAN I am.

The self-loathing needed to wait. There were still other people in danger.

It took 10 seconds of weaving between cars, the gunfire from the Raiders behind me crashing all around me, to reach Buck's position.

While I didn't know what kind of explosive Able had, this is where I was staying until he set it off. I needed to concentrate as many Raiders around him as I could. Maybe- maybe I can help make sure his death means something. Maybe I can make sure it saves more of our people.

The large man looked from me to where Able was and back. His jaw tightened but he didn't say anything. His eyes were back on his rifle sights and he kept shooting at the oncoming Raiders, filtering between the cars. I did the same. It was pointless, I know. Holding the Raiders back was only delaying the inevitable a few seconds but-

But goddammit it was something.

The bastards were coming after us hard now. There were ten at a time spread across the four-lane road, scrambling between cars, ducking and weaving, trying to avoid what might be their bullet.

Wasted effort. Their movements were too slow and too sloppy. I spent what was left of Able's last magazine to eliminate another eight Raiders. They barely registered. They were each just a trigger pull, nothing more, nothing less. Those were his kills, as far as I was concerned.

The last one, a young man who couldn't be any older than me, took the shot in the mouth while trying to duck behind the rusted mass of a pickup truck. I watched as the round punched through his teeth and out the back of his neck through his spine. It was 60 or so meters away, I knew that was too far to see the fragments of his teeth go flying. I like to think I could, though.

Once the rifle was spent, I discarded it and switched back to my Mk-18. 25 rounds left.

"Move", I said to Buck as I shouldered the rifle. Fire from Able's team began to pepper the Raiders's positions.

He didn't hesitate, didn't question. The large man just turned and made for the top of the hill.

The rest of the escapees were close, less than 200 meters away, still firing down toward our pursuers.

It was beginning to slacken, however. They were running out of ammunition.

Come on, Able. Show me something.

The Railroad agent was giving his life. I didn't expect anything less than spectacular.

As intended, the Raiders were beginning to group up just a few meters from his position.

And I knew that moment was coming.

My jaw tightened, my body coiled hard enough to pull a twinge out of my right shoulder, but I kept firing.

Second to last magazine was dry and I swapped it out for my final one.

Then, I realized, I didn't want the next few seconds to pass.

I would have rather stayed there, crouched behind a rusted hunk of metal that used to be a small coupe, shooting at Raiders for… who the hell knows how long than watch what came next.

Every second- every instant that passed was pulling me closer and closer. Pulling Able closer and closer.

19.

18.

17.

Two more dead Raiders.

But I didn't have a choice. I couldn't stop time.

Raiders were swarming around his cover and I felt it. The moment was drawing near.

They were on top of him.

I wanted it to stop. I wanted to look away.

But I didn't. Able deserved more than that from me.

16-

It's happened a few times before, when I've been close enough to a powerful explosion, the violence is so overwhelming it feels… strangely peaceful. The best way I can describe it is when something is so hot it feels cold.

A blinding flash, so bright it seared my eyes, even through my visor's polarization.

A boom so loud, it rendered my hearing useless, even through my helmet.

A shockwave so powerful, it threw me into the car behind me.

My leg and arm both flared in pain. My back added to the cacophony too.

But all of that felt secondhand as if someone else was experiencing it and related the details to me later.

Then it was over. The light faded. The overpressure disappeared. The rumbling stopped.

It left me lying against the crumpled side of the car I'd slammed into, staring up at the darkened sky.

I wasn't dazed. In fact, I was completely lucid. I knew exactly what just happened.

It's just… I wished it hadn't.

Several of the cars around me had been blown backward. The only thing that kept me from being sandwiched between the one I'd been using for cover and the one I'd been thrown into was a third bad wedged itself between them.

My eyes dropped to where Able had been. I couldn't see anything. It was obscured by a massive cloud of smoke and debris.

But I didn't need to see the aftermath to know what it would look like. I've seen enough explosions.

Able was gone and there wasn't a damn I could do about it. Even though I'm a SPARTAN. Fuck the Raiders. Fuck Castle. Fuck me.

They'll keep coming.

Right.

The MedX wasn't enough to block out the pangs of agony that speared through my injured arm and leg. I stifled a groan as I pushed myself away from the car. That could wait. We still needed to get the hell out of here.

How long would that explosion buy us? 30 seconds? Maybe a minute? The Raiders would have to collect themselves for another push and who the hell knows how many were caught in the blast. If I'd been a regular person, I probably would have died and I was almost 50 meters away. The first line of them was basically on top of Able when the bomb detonated.

Not enough time to stand here wondering about it.

… Yeah.

My eyes lingered on the slowly expanding cloud of dust and smoke. Debris was starting to rain down, quietly pinging off of me and the cars. It wasn't until then I realized all gunfire, except for shooting from the top of the hill, had stopped.

Don't waste it.

Don't waste it…

With one more glance at where the Railroad Agent had died, or at least that direction, I turned and started up the hill again.

Buck's group was another 50 meters closer to the top. Most of them were just starting to gather themselves from the blast.

I spotted Buck hauling himself to his feet, using the fender of a car for balance, and one hand pressed against the side of his head. There was blood seeping from between his fingers.

"Status?" I asked as I reached him.

"Got-" he closed his eyes and swallowed. "Got my bell rung. But I- uh-" the large man looked around at the others. "I'll be alright." The words were a little slurred but nothing serious. He might have had a concussion but there wasn't anything we could do about that until we were out of here and back at a settlement.

His eyes snapped back to me. "You were a lot closer. What about you?"

"I'm fine", I replied, in spite of the refreshed pain radiating from my arm and leg. It was stabbing into my stomach and chest now.

Better than Able…

"... That armor must be something…" he said, eyes narrowed and in a voice that suggested he didn't believe me.

"Let's move." I nodded toward the top of the hill, only 100 meters away.

100 meters.

After another look around, Buck nodded. We started picking our way between the cars, gathering what was left of our original team. 15. 15 of the 25. 10 dead including Able. 4 of the 15 were wounded, two critically-

My breath stopped as I looked down at one of our injured. My heart leaped into my throat.

Brenda.

Someone had propped her up against the side of a car. Probably the former prisoner who was standing beside her bent over and grabbing his knees. She'd been shot in the head. The left side of her face was a bloody mess. Her eye was gone. The bullet had hit her at an angle and punched out the side of her head, just in front of her temple

She wasn't moving but I could see her chest slowly rise and fall. Alive but unconscious.

We need to go. Now. There's no time for this.

"Do- uh- do you know her?" the short, stocky man asked. His light, clear voice didn't match his gruff, bearded face. He sounded nervous.

"Yes", I said. "I do." My eyes never left Brenda.

"Well- I- she got hit when we were moving back and I didn't think it was right to leave her there-" he started, the words tumbling from his mouth so quickly they were catching each other.

"You're fine. Keep moving. I'll take care of her." I could hear how monotone- how dead my own voice was. The roiling pit of emotions followed suit. It stilled in an instant. It was like a switch flipped. Everything was clear again. The pain was gone. I had a job to do and we were almost to safety.

The former prisoner hurried away like he'd been given a reprieve from the firing squad. I tore some of her jacket away and used it as a wrap for her head. It- it wasn't enough but it would have to do for now. Once it was secure, I bent down and picked Brenda up. I'd have to find that guy again and thank him later. For now, we needed to finish the mission.

Between the delay from the explosion and the covering fire from those at the top of the hill, the rest of the journey was uneventful. The Raiders, at one point, found their balls again and started shooting back but, by the time they did, we'd reached the top of the hill. Pursuing us any further would be suicide for them at that point. We had numbers and cover, while they'd be pushing themselves into a funnel.

It only took a minute or two after I crested the hill for them to begin a retreat of their own.

Everything felt… hyper-real. Every shape stood out in sharp relief against whatever was around it. The normally dull, muted colors of weather-beaten paint and brown trees were all so vibrant. Every edge was so sharp, it looked like it could cut through steel.

It felt like I was back in one of those dreams, walking through the school, watching the pile of books burn in the center of the courtyard.

I wasn't the one moving my body, I was just a spectator. Someone said something to me. I replied. I don't know what was said but they seemed satisfied with my answer.

My legs carried me toward one of the trucks. I- I needed to put Brenda inside so someone could tend to her wounds.

Nate and Cassandra found me as I reached the rear of the truck.

The muscles in the ex-soldier's jaw were so tight he might have shattered his own teeth.

Cassandra was crying. She said something but, like the other person, I didn't understand it.

My eyes found Brenda's face again. The side that hadn't been damaged by the bullet looked so peaceful.

I climbed into the back of the truck. I- I don't know if that's what I was supposed to do. Cassandra was still standing beside me when I did, tears streaming down her face. The only time I'd seen her cry like that was when I first found her, Tommy, and Julian at the West Everett Estates.

But my body was acting on its own. It knew what to do without me.

So it handled whatever needed handling while I watched: placing Brenda at the front of the bed, carefully laying her against the steel floor. When I turned, Cass was there, shoving past me. She fell to her knees beside Brenda, her face covered in tears.

Returning to the back, I dropped out of the truck to the broken, crumbling concrete that had, in the distant past, been a road. Jackson had found Nate and the two were talking. Nate's voice was… harsh. Clipped. But I still couldn't understand what he was saying.

They said something to me. I replied again. Both men nodded. Jackson handed me his rifle and two spare magazines, I gave him my MK-18.

My legs again carried me, on their own, away from the truck and back toward the crest of the hill.

Crouching behind one of the hundreds of burnt-out wrecks, I joined what I realized was the recon team and kept fire on the retreating Raiders. I know I hit several but- I don't know how many.

The drug-addicted bastards barely bothered to return fire.

It wasn't until my second magazine was empty, and someone put a hand on my shoulder, that I noticed the trucks were starting to trundle down the road.

Danse was standing beside me, a tight-lipped frown on his stubble-covered face. He didn't say anything, just jerked his head toward the last truck.

They'd managed to cram enough people in the trucks that there was room for all of us.

I followed him to the back and climbed in as its engine rumbled to life. There wasn't quite enough space for me in the bed, so I was left sitting at the edge, legs dangling out over the road as it slid by beneath them.

Eyes were drilling into my back. A lot of them.

It barely registered, though. As we left behind the hellhole that was the Raider base, not much did. I didn't feel relieved or happy or angry or anything else I probably should have. I didn't know what I was feeling.

After a few seconds, I couldn't see the base anymore. The Vertibirds were long gone, probably heading back to the airport for repairs. The Raiders would be licking their wounds but… we eliminated a fraction of a fraction of their force. This wouldn't slow them down. If anything, they'd feel like they needed to reassert their authority after a loss like this.

The last week- what did we accomplish? What did we change?

What did I change?

We survived…

My head tilted back and I looked up at the now completely dark sky. My NVS activated, chasing away the black in a twilight wash.

Yeah… we survived.

Most of us did, anyway.

A/N: this was both fun and difficult to write. I approached it with a different mindset than, I think, I originally intended. Killing a major character in an, admittedly, trope-y manner wasn't something I did just because I felt like it. A retreat like this is incredibly risky and, if it hadn't been for the support they had from the others, along with Damon, no one would have made it up that hill. And I very deliberately chose to focus on Damon's emotional state because, in my opinion, the impact of someone dying like that is more important. There are a lot of other implications from this chapter, but that one was critical for me to get right. I hope you all enjoyed and I'll see everyone next time!

Next Chapter: 6/7, Trust