Post Apocalypse Bar and Grill: Chapter 44
[ First ] [ Previous ] [ Next ]
Tension filled the air as the words echoed across the clearing. Time seemed to slow as Indrals mind raced. They were out in the open, little to no cover for protection, a scouts worst nightmare. They would have to rely on speed and agility, which he had witnessed the scouts and Arvo possessing, so one point in their favor. The metal beast and human would complicate things, it was fast but he was unsure if they could keep it under control.
There was a treeline off to the right, but they would be exposed the whole way. The Metal Men would need to be distracted, at least for a full minute, maybe two depending on how difficult controlling the metal beast ended up being. His whiskers twitched as his mind raced, considering their options.
The Metal Men would act soon and their statement that his people would be collected was a cause for grave concern.
The words of his mentor whispered in his ear, “Action, any action will always beat inaction. Foolish or ill-advised, actions can be survived with skill and luck, but inaction is death.”
Flicking the tip of his tail behind him, he found himself hoping that the trainers of these new scouts had taught the Arvo members tail signs. Just in case, he kept the message simple.
Scatter right, regroup at base.
A smile tugged at the corners of his muzzle as he inhaled deeply. He hoped his death would buy them enough time for some to make it.
HIs tail dropped, signaling the others to go as his arm whipped forward, hurling the knife his student had given him as he exploded forward, and pandemonium broke loose in the clearing.
With a solid metallic clang, the knife embedded itself within the shoulder joint of the lead Metal Man, its arm falling limply to its side along with the powerful weapon it held. By his third step the other metal men had raised their weapons and begun firing, some towards him, others past him.
The sizzling crack of sound accompanied flashes of light striking the ground around him, kicking up plumes of dust as he dashed forward. From the pouch at his hip, he pulled and tossed a small cloth pouch, aiming for the face.
The Metal Man had not been inactive though, as he raced forward, it had reached up and pulled the knife out of its shoulder joint and slashed at the pouch, slicing it cleanly in half.
Ash dust exploded out, obscuring its vision as Indral leapt upon the mechanical being. Aiming for the disabled arm, he managed to sweep around behind it, pulling the arm with him. With his weight and speed, he heard the joint of the arm shatter and come loose as he fell to the ground.
Time took on that slow, floaty feeling he was used to in the heat of battle, the Metal Man turned slowly, its still working arm coming towards him from above as he raised its death stick, no the Human Thomas called it a rifle, and squeezed the trigger back as fast as he could.
The Metal man staggered back, as smoking and melted holes appeared in its chest before it collapsed to the side. Indral coughed blood as he watched it fall, then looked at where his knife hilt stood up from his abdomen, now pinning him to the ground.
It had been thrown by the Metal Man as he shot it, he realized coughing again. One for one, not a bad trade normally, he thought. Something that would be told as a legendary achievement and told to generations around campfires to inspire his people. He hoped the others had gotten a good lead on the others.
Indral looked up as the world seemed to dim, a large metal foot hung high above his head. He began swinging the rifle back, painfully slow, gripping the trigger in the hopes that as he died, it would fire and at least damage one more of the mechanical creatures.
A massive shadow flew over his head, Just a glimpse of pale mottled scales before the world brightened again, followed by the sounds of tearing metal and shattering plastic. Confusion and panic filled his thoughts as he lay there bleeding, they didn't run. Why didn't they run?
“indral”, he heard faintly as he felt something tugging at his body. “INDral” he heard again, he blinked and slowly turned his head towards the soft, yet loud voice. A fuzzy face filled his vision, “INDRAL! SIR, WE NEED YOU TO LET GO OF THE GUN”, shouted in his face as a scent pouch was shoved under his nose. It hit him like a bucket of ice filled water as time resumed its normal speeds and sounds returned to being sharp and clear as his head immediately cleared.
Drawing in a sharp breath between clenched teeth, “what are you doing, i signaled you to run” Indral hissed at the Rakus.
“Argue later sir, right now we need to stop this bleeding. We will leave the knife in until we get back to base, but it's gonna be a painful trip.” the young scout said, before turning to a scaled figure towering over them both, “Polu, I need you to lift him gently so I can wrap this tightly”
The young scout turned back to Indra, “this will hurt sir, but it needs to be done” he said as he held up a strap of leather. “Bite down on this sir”, he said.
Indral then felt himself being lifted and regardless of how gentle the Arvo was trying to be, the older Rakus let out a scream of pain as the world went black.
He must have blacked out, because he had no memory of being placed on a stretcher that was being carried by two Arvo. He looked down and saw the handle of the knife sticking up from his guts, bandages tightly wrapped around the wound and soaked with blood. Plastic tubes ran from his arms to a kind of harness hanging from the back of the lead Arvo.
As he looked around, he noted that they were passing through the forest. Nearly everyone he saw had some bandages wrapped around arms, chests or legs. None appeared as bad as him, or the human still strapped to the mechanical horse.
“How many?” he croaked, his mouth dry and tasting like sand and old leather.
The rear Arvo holding his stretcher looked down at him for a moment before growling out “What?”
Indral blinked slowly, moved his tongue around to try and work up a bit of saliva before trying again, “How..many….did...we…lose?”
The Arvo looked around for a moment before replying, “none, most hurt but no dead”
His head fell back to the stretcher as they continued to march, thoughts whirling around the fight, the glimpses he had seen of his people and their once mortal enemies tearing into what would normally be considered a tribe killing threat. But they had won, and to even his surprise, he was still alive.
A ragged cheer went up as the group slowed. Indral could hear conversion, but not the specific word, whatever was in those bags was trying to drag him back into slumber, but he fought it as he looked around for the cause of the disturbance, and suddenly he was there. Both of them actually, as the metal face plate lifted up and revealed his student Delvik, in full armor with a worried look on his face, his Human friend standing beside him.
He could see a few other Rakus in similar suites of armor passing by, heading back towards the site of the battle.
Delvik looked at his teacher with concern, the medics had said he was stable and that once they got him back to the bunker, they could take the knife out, but it was alarming to see his mentor laid out, injured critically and potentially near death. He felt Thomas pat him on the back and hear him whisper, “Don't worry buddy, the doc’s back at the base will get him patched up. He will be back on his feet in no time”
Indral watched them depart, his student pulling the Human Thomas away from the metal beast and the other human, heading for the site of the battle. His student promising to visit as soon as the healers were done with him.
What a brave new world his student was making with his Human friend, and he wondered where his place would be in it, before he drifted back into slumber.