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Post by Lunapocalypse on Dec 18, 2010 11:28:50 GMT -5
Sticking her thumb in the air, lips curled. Watching the last Raider truck get blown to sh*t was the most mayhem Aya had witnessed in a while. All in the space of, what, 3 seconds? Seeing nothing but red god-damn confetti and pink ribbons exploding out of a tin can. Aya pulled to the outside of the dust ring, moving anti-clockwise, about to ghost the next two trucks she had spotted further up.
She caught a glint in the corner of her eye, looking to the horizon at an ebony speck in the distance. Aya picked up the radio, "Matthew," a perplexed look on her face, "Matt," watching the Impala fade with the heat waves. She barked into the handheld, "Matthew-urgh, what the hell!" dropping the radio and breathing deep into her diaphragm, "MATTHEW!" her voice resonated from every direction, a slight rumble to the tone. If he didn't hear that, "F*cking pansy," Aya insulted as she ploughed back into the dust cloud, "Better still have my god damn EBR with him,"
Slamming her fist on the roof grabbing Tyson's attention. Aya held up her middle, index, and ring finger, tapping her index finger noting he was to aim for the truck on their right once in position. Her middle finger was them in the Ford; Aya liked to think it represented how much the next bunch of Raider's were about to get f*cked.
Dropping into her stunt woman persona, Aya peeled ahead of the two trucks hitting the breaks to suddenly appear between them. Aya had the window wound down, the left hand side of the Ford nearly kissing the truck beside it. She lashed out, crashing her fist through the passenger side window and grabbing a hold of the Raider's collar. Pulling away with the Ford, Aya tugged him out of his comfort zone and dropped him beneath the wheels; the harsh bump throwing the driver Raider off into a slight swerve.
Edging closer to the truck to her right for Tyson. The bronze haired girl looked to the driver seeing the absolute confusion on his face and undeniable mortification which replaced it after seeing the metal face standing in the bed of the Ford.
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Post by .Merios on Dec 18, 2010 12:16:25 GMT -5
The engine began to flutter a bit and he could feel the car starting to drag a little. Matthew let out a silent curse and moved his right hand down to the stick shift and manually began shifting the car. He finally broke through the wall of debris and sand and opened his eyes, immediately seeing another truck driving straight towards him- they were in a collision course and the raider had fire in his eyes. He swerved to the right to avoid the crash as the Ford sped past him, nearly clipping his rear-view mirror. He quickly stomped the brake and spun the car to a stop horizontally and looked out his destroyed window as the truck disappeared into the sandstorm. He sighed, reaching back down to the stick shift and pushing it back forward to get the car rolling again. As soon as he let off the brake, he heard the roar of an engine to his left. He slowly turned his head to look out his window. His eyes widened as he quickly scrambled to hit the gas- nothing. The car just revved in place loudly. He cursed again and slid over to the passenger seat, seeing as he had no time to move the Impala before the truck hit it. He sweeped the EBR into his arms and cradled it as he swung the passenger door open and dived out. He scrambled to his feet and sprinted to the side as he heard the crunching of metal.
He died a little inside as he hit the sand and turned to watch the Ford smash into the Impala, crunching it under it's sheer weight and momentum. After about twenty feet, the truck stopped. Matthew quickly shouldered the EBR and leveled the sights at the truck's cabin. He squeezed the trigger, sending a bolt of energy into the fabric of the back of the driver's seat. Then another, and another and another. Blast after blast of energy was send into the cabin of the truck, enough to turn anyone's torso into swiss cheese. He stood up, grimacing and looking around. He had to put it out of his mind- there were more important things to worry about.
He lifted his left hand to his brow and looked around.
"MATTHEW!""
He heard Aya loud and clear, turning towards where he heard the voice- directly behind him. It was only seconds before he heard the roar of multiple engines and the report of a drum-fed machine gun. He started to back up a step as they came into view- one truck was in the middle of two raiding trucks, each one of them looking as if they were at war. He quickly took another step backward, trying to comprehend what he was seeing until he glanced at Aya's face in the driver's seat and Tyson's structure in the back. He found them. Or, rather, they found him.
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Post by Mikey on Dec 18, 2010 13:08:19 GMT -5
If only the raider of the right truck could see Tyson’s face. If only he could see the smile that lit up at the incoming carnage. If he could have, he may have thought to run. He may have swerved away, and Tyson wouldn’t have had to do what he was about to do. But at the moment, he was almost aching to see the spray of blood and the bits of metal. It never got old. He’d never used such a large caliber weapon with such a high rate of fire. Now, he was wondering how he’d ever gotten by on an assault rifle converted for heavy fire.
The almost constant roar of the rounds firing off filled the air for a mile in the empty desert. This time, Tyson started at the cab. Both driver and passenger were ripped to shreds, the vehicle still going top speed. He ignored the men in the bed for now, opting to let the trail of rounds drop low. They hit the axel, wheels, drive shaft, everything that the truck relied on to keep moving. It didn’t take much for all of it to collapse under the weight of the body. At the high speed, the truck dropped down and hit the sand, digging in for a few yards before it hit the point of not moving anymore. The force, with nowhere else to go, switched positions and vaulted the truck into the air. The centrifugal force kept the men in the bed, and they were crushed when they were caught between the sand and the bed of the truck.
The one Aya had fended off with a little kiss to the side was back, the men in back recovering to try and mount an assault of their own. Tyson leaned to his side and moved his legs back underneath him, lifting the machine gun out of its cradle and held it roughly against his shoulder, grabbing the front hand grip in a vice grip.
Nothing fancy this time, something he was disappointed with. He was low on ammo. A simple sweep from ass to tip, cutting into the men in back and the ones in the cab. He didn’t know if all of them were dead right now, but they would be soon. Or wish they were for the rest of their years.
The smile never left the masked psychopath’s face. He could make peace with this kind of s***. It kept him from going crazy in a normal situation.
He had a feeling this was going to fill the quota for some time to come.
“Reloading. How many more?” He asked Aya through the window, popping up the cover on the machinegun and detaching the belt box, throwing it to the bottom of the truck for later use.
He wasn’t worried about the rest of the fight, no matter how long it would be. He was just going to be disappointed that it would end eventually. More so if the end was near.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Dec 19, 2010 0:57:33 GMT -5
"How many more?” "Um," Aya looked about herself, counting how many white figures she could see in the dust, "I count 4 - no, 5. An-" she seized up after looking out the back window and seeing a Raider vehicle approach from straight behind them. Instead of slowing to move in time with the Ford instead the truck sped past them, the passenger tossing a black orb into Aya's cab. Looking down at the lemon on the seat next to her, pouting slight shock, "Grenade!" Aya called as she picked it up and tossed it back out the window. The grenade exploded in midair shortly after, the force of the explosion pushing the Ford onto two wheels for a chaotic moment. Aya fought to get it level again, crashing back down onto the shock absorbers. Aya looked over her shoulder to check on Tyson, make sure he hadn't gone overboard, "Y'allright back there!?"Looking forwards again, Aya swerved out of the way after spotting what looked like Matthew; poking her head out of he window, 'It is Matthew,' she U-turned, keeping an eye on the Raider's locations. The dust was quickly settling now and it would be possible for all to see all soon. Grinding to a half next to the smiley face, "Get in!" Aya shouted while kicking her door open and grabbing Tyson's 12 gauge, loading a shell and firing downrange at a truck that had spotted them.
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Post by .Merios on Dec 21, 2010 2:11:41 GMT -5
Matthew closed his eyes, expecting a truck toppling head over end into him, smashing him into oblivion. Large caliber rounds exploded all around him, metal shearing and twisting. The gears of war were turning, and he had to make whatever his actions count, whatever they will be. Within seconds, he opened his eyes, the sun shining bright into his vision, casting a bright light behind Tyson's truck as they neared, illuminating them with a bright halo. They sped past him momentarily before slamming on the breaks, grinding into the sand and coming to a halt on his side. He blinked a few times, stunned.
"Get in!"
His attention was immediately directed towards Aya as he snapped out of his confusion. He immediately moved the EBR to his left hand and gripped it by it's chassis. Moving swiftly, he took two steps towards the cabin and propelled himself off the ground, clearing four feet and landing with his rear end on the hood of the truck, sliding on the rough metal along the width of it. He made a quick, knee-jerk reaction as he neared the edge- he brought his right foot out to the side and planted it on the step assist of the door and gripped the edge of the windshield with his right hand, swinging his body around to smack into the passenger side door. He leaned back a bit and gripped the door handle as he swung it open. He contorted his body inside the truck and slid onto the seat, slamming the door behind him.
Almost immediately he smelled the interior of the truck- musty, sweat-filled oxygen permeated throughout his sinuses, giving him the distinct impression this was an old work truck that had seen it's prime years ago. He gave out a breath of relief, setting the EBR across his lap and, with a quick shrug, he reached down to his side and withdrew his Mateba, flicking it to the side and letting the cylinder slide out with a whirr. He moved his left index finger, middle finger and thumb over the three remaining rounds in the cylinder and flipped the gun on it's axis, dropping the spent rounds from the chamber and keeping the one's remaining still inside.
"I've got three rounds. EBR's a little hot. My other gear's in the Impala.. It's scrap now, but the trunk may have survived."
He looked over at Aya, then to his right. His eyes traveled up the length of the seat belt and met the top. He set the Metaba down and drew the seat belt over his torso, digging a bit into the leather between the two front seats and pulling out the dusty, grime-covered receiving end. He snapped it in place with a satisfying click and adjusted it a bit, glancing at Aya as he picked back up his Mateba and flipped the cylinder back into place and spun the cylinder until a round clicked into place.
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Post by Mikey on Dec 22, 2010 15:08:03 GMT -5
"I count 4 - no, 5. An-" He heard from the cab, slamming the machine gun closed and jacking the charging handle back. "Grenade!" He hears suddenly.
“Oh, hell no!” He yelled, watching her through the back window to see if she could deal with the situation. The option to abandon ship, so to speak, hadn’t occurred to him. He wouldn’t leave her side for anything. And grenades so commonly marked his past experience that the shock and awe that most people got when they saw a live one several feet from them didn’t quite effect him anymore. He watched her snatch it up and toss it out the side window, about then deciding that ducking down would be a good policy.
BOOM!
Rolling to one side of the bed and banging against the side, he groaned as he slid back to the center when the truck landed on all four wheels again. The shocks kept the bouncing to a minimal, and he was back up on his knees.
“Y'allright back there!?" She yelled to him.
“I’m good.” He said with a groan, rubbing the shoulder that smacked into the side of the truck. It wasn’t much longer that she flipped a b*tch and collided him with the wall of the truck bed once again. She slammed on the breaks and he pitched forward, landing on the floor with a thud.
“OW!” He yelled through the back window. He saw Matt in the passenger seat explaining his ammo situation, and he stopped for a moment.
“Where the f**k did you come from?” He asked. He then turned to Aya. “And where the f**k did you learn to drive?” He asked, leaning on the closed side of the tool box in back as he reached in. He pulled out his Desert Eagle from the case, grabbing a magazine for it while he was at it. Reaching in and depositing it on the seat for Matt, he looked at Aya as he set up the M60 on the roof of the truck.
“Get me a straight shot at someone.” He told her, putting his hand straight out in front of him as if to sign to her that he wanted to start a game of chicken.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Dec 24, 2010 1:01:09 GMT -5
“Where the f**k did you come from? And where the f**k did you learn to drive?” Tyson started spouting temper, "It's not healthy being critical towards someone who doesn't appreciate backseat drivers!" Aya protested while spinning the steering wheel hard and snatching up the EBR from Matthew, lining up flush next to a Raider truck and firing off a shot. The round went clean through both recipients heads, the driver crashing his forehead into the horn while pushing down on the gas and veering left. The truck sped off into the horizon aimless. An audible 'ping' resounded from the EBR stating it had reached its limits. Passing the hub cap status of an Impala "Glad I'm not the only one at a loss," she commented while looking down at the barrel cover of the rifle, pulling a pin back to release covers on either side of the rod. The sizzling heat sounded like water freezing over with super cooled ice, the red hot metal glowing; Aya rested it down at her feet. Tyson suggested they engage in some who dares wins, pointing over to the next Raider car. No complaint; even if they did have a head on collision Aya was confident they would just split the truck in two and keep on rolling. She hung herself out of the window firing an attention get with the 12 gauge at the Raider a good 120 yards ahead of them. The 4x4 repositioned, a bustling Land Cruiser hammering it in their direction; Aya could smell some confidence in the sweat of their opponents.
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Post by .Merios on Dec 24, 2010 23:57:34 GMT -5
Aya snatched the EBR from his lap and leveled it out her window at an approaching Raider truck- with one pull of the trigger it was sent veering off. With a quick ping, the EBR officially died. She set it down next to her leg and pulled out what looked like a 12 gauge from god knows where. He took Tyson's advice and was shocked for a moment- if the impact didn't kill him, the velocity in which he'd be thrown from the cab would severely injure him. He had to level the playing field. Aya fired a shot from the 12 gauge, catching the attention of the 4x4 which now course-corrected and started peeling off towards them.
The Desert Eagle that was tossed on the seat next to him immediately seemed like a great idea compared to the lack of rounds still within his Mateba. He snatched it up and pulled the hammer back, checking the chamber for a round- .44. He raised an eyebrow and quickly shrugged the confusion away, moving to the passenger side door and unclasping his seat belt, leaning out. He snaked his body through the window and set his bottom on the sill of the window, bringing the Desert Eagle around from and leveling the sights at the cab of the oncoming truck. He rapidly squeezed off four rounds, not necessarily aiming. He noticed one tore through the raider's adam's apple, spraying gore onto the seat behind him. Within seconds, the man's body slumped forward on the steering wheel.
He heard the rev of the engine and slid back into the seat, flipping the Desert Eagle on safety and moving to slide it under his seat, grasping his Mateba and making sure it was secure in his holster. Things were about to get bumpy, and he couldn't afford for stray rounds to go off as weapons fly about the cabin. He braced himself for impact, putting his hands up on the dashboard and tensing his muscles, stealing a quick look at Tyson then Aya. He focused his attention back forward, the truck was rapidly approaching and he wasn't looking forward to what was going to happen. He could only hope they would come out unscathed- there was no way to avoid it now, they were going to hit. Hard.
"Gird your loins.."
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Post by Mikey on Dec 27, 2010 6:38:06 GMT -5
"It's not healthy being critical towards someone who doesn't appreciate backseat drivers!" Aya yelled out.
“My truck, my rules!” He retorted through the window. He lined up a shot into the cab of the truck, aiming toward the passenger side and mapping out the path to take to kill the men in back without taking out the driver. The courage he had going was going to fade away pretty goddamn quick when his buddies were all taken out around him.
And then…
“Oh, you stupid motherf**ker…” Tyson muttered, seeing Matt lean out and fire off rounds at the oncoming SUV. Essentially removing the fear factor that they would have been counting on to avoid a head on collision, instead turning the Land Rover into an infinitely speeding hunk of metal. Tyson had to admit. He was a bit worried, being the only one of the three who wouldn’t walk away without a scratch should this situation turn into a segment from World’s Worse Car Crashes.
So, he did the only thing he could think of to try and slow it down a bit. He lined up his weapon with the Rover and started putting out rounds. Mainly into the engine, trying to make it stop. Sure, it would still be going at a good speed, but get rid of the engine and it would be in a constant state of decline. With luck, it would be slow enough after that to not totally f**k up the truck. And eject him from the bed, more importantly.
Crouching down and holding onto the toolbox mounted to the bed, he held his breath for impact and prayed Aya could work this out.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Dec 28, 2010 13:27:18 GMT -5
<The following 2 paragraphs occur over approximately 3.1 seconds> <slow-mo>Aya brought her feet up, soles against the glass, pushing off with her fists from her seat; she jettisoned herself through the windshield. Reacting out of instinct much like with the grenade from earlier, after seeing the driver in the Rover suddenly receive a hole to the head Aya knew an important piece of the formula for what was previously in mind had suddenly been pulled out from under the leaning pillar. Thankfully, she had done this before. Creating an obstacle for the Rover to collide with, feeling several armor piercing rounds skim past her. Holding her shoulder up while still a good foot and a half off the ground, the bonnet of the Rover wrapped around Aya, crumpling like aluminium as its momentum flung it into the air and over the Ford. </slow-mo>The grill of the truck Aya had been driving previously dented heavily as it slammed into her, face planting the girl to the dirt and continuing over her trodden body. There was a small enough margin of error for Matthew to not take control of the truck after Aya had ejected from it so little concern was held in that regard, unless he felt breaking the steering wheel off would somehow reward benefits. All sensations escaping her extremities, only nausea seemed to remain as Aya picked herself up. Stumbling a few steps in an aimless direction, she reeled forwards as a mess of bile and fluid vomited; seething after the relief while clutching her stomach. Feeling like the gravity dial had just been turned up while standing on the sky, Aya's headache causing her problems evaporated quickly as Progenitor stitched her up. Checking her bearings, a raider emerged from the one half of the Rover's body which hadn't been crushed from landing upside down; sprinting towards her barefoot, tattered clothes, screaming and holding a knife above his head. Aya drew her Pro-9 firing a lazy shot from her hip which caught the raider in the neck, flailing backwards in death acrobatics. Unimpressed, she placed the Browning back in its holster as she turned her back on the derelict Land Rover, wiping dirt from her face and convinced that someone needed to drop points into their decision-making perk.
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Post by .Merios on Dec 30, 2010 0:26:03 GMT -5
He turned his head to Aya almost immediately as she pushed away from the cabin, breaking through the windshield and soaring out of the cab. Almost instinctively, he moved his left hand to the wheel as her shoulder and arms passed through the hole she made in the windshield. He gripped it as it pulled against him in the opposite direction, wanting to veer off to the side. Once she dropped down out of sight, he knew she was doing something strange. His reflexes were fast enough to catch the wheel and hold it straight just as the raider's Rover flipped over the Ford. He had a brief moment to lean his head forward and watch as the twisted hunk of machine soared over his head. He followed it with his eyes before it went out of view behind him and just as he turned his attention back to the "road", he felt a hard thump.
He winced and made a little hissing sound as he unbuckled his seat belt with his free right hand. "That's... Gotta hurt." He slid over to the driver's seat, mumbling and moving his feet to the pedals. He eased on the brake with his right foot and finally brought the truck to a stop. Matthew let out a sigh and reached over and grasped the grip of the Desert Eagle in the seat, his index finger instinctively sliding over the trigger guard. He turned and swung open the driver's side door, stepping out onto the hot sand with a slight bounce in his step. He brought the gun up to his forehead and wiped a bit of sweat from his brow with the back of his trigger finger and lazily stumbled to the front of the truck.
His eyes traced the indention of her body on the grill and he noticed a long streak of crimson with some matted hair stuck inside a few of the bars. He scratched his head a bit and look a good look around, attempting to discover Aya's beaten corpse. He took a step to the left and leaned out to peek behind the truck, seeing Aya fire a round into a raider Indy-style and turn away as he fell to the ground with a magnificent display. He winced once more, bringing the Desert Eagle up above his head to block the sun with as he yelled.
"'Ey! You alright doll?!"
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Post by Mikey on Dec 30, 2010 4:14:49 GMT -5
Tyson hung on for dear life, his eyes trained on the tool box only because he was hunkered down so close to it. He could hear the shatter of glass, and for a moment, he felt the rush of wind over him. He saw the sunlight disappear into shadow for a moment, and he couldn’t help but look up. For once in a long time, he could only think of one thing to say.
“What the f**k…?” He thought to himself, looking back and seeing the demolished Rover hit the ground and roll to a stop. He was about to stand back up when he felt the truck jerk to a sudden stop. Again, he could only think one thing. With a bit more enthusiasm.
“The f**k was…” He trailed off, seeing just what the f**k that was.
Mainly, Aya bent over and heaving her guts out, looking like she had been hit by… Oh. That explained a lot. His mind could already play out just what had happened, the hold in the windshield with blood tracing it.
Matt got out to see if she was ok, Tyson about to do the same when he realized that that would leave them with no one to cover the raiders. But, as he stood and did a 360 with the M60, he wasn’t seeing anyone. The dust had settled for the most part, the smoke was gone, bodies lined the ground and piles of metal that used to be working cars and trucks dotted the landscape.
“Damn.” He said. He got to the edge of the truck, took a seat on the side, spun around and dropped to the ground. Not a long fall, but he made sure to put all of the force onto his good leg. He limped over to Aya and Matt and did another scan of the horizon.
“We do good work. You ok?” He asked, more of a reflex question than anything. He was pretty sure she was less than ok at the moment, but she would be better in the next moments.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Dec 30, 2010 7:23:30 GMT -5
Putting her hands on her knees, "Y-eh," Aya replied to Matt's concern, no where near loud enough for him to hear but simply out of compulsion, before running her tongue along the roof of her mouth and spitting out some residual saliva. She stretched, stabbing her knuckles into her back and feeling a dozen or so bits and pieces slip back into place with their individual cracks; the girl made a grunt of displeasure. “We do good work. You ok?” "Honestly, Ty. You should be more worried about your truck, man," she patted him on the arm as she passed while cradling her own sore elbow, grateful of the concern from both of them; it would reach a point where they just had to accept the acts she performed. At the moment the Ford currently stood as all they had in terms of transportation. Glints from the remaining Raider vehicles in the distance was suggestive of the deserters making the smart decision. Reaching the tail of the truck, Aya flopped against the side letting it support her balance; lightheaded, "Just a little bit farther," edging her way to the passenger side door and climbing into the cab. She poked her head out of the window once inside, "Yer right driving?" she asked Matthew with a fatigued voice, resting her chin on the window frame, her eyes half closed. Probably a stupid question; she didn't exactly expect them to let her drive again after what happened. Sliding down into her seat, feeling like she had just given birth to quadruplets. Aya's hand slipped from her lap landing on the sleek face of the notebook PC, still churning through the implant scans. Picking up the laptop and unfolding it revealed it was nearing completion and had already picked up on half a dozen anomalies along the surface of the metal plates. A lead seemed to be on their horizon.
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Post by .Merios on Dec 30, 2010 10:19:54 GMT -5
Matthew followed Aya, still a bit worried. He's seen someone take a blow like that before- but last time he was performing an autopsy. He stayed a few feet behind her as she limped her way to the truck and finally inside the cab of the truck. He moved towards the door as she leaned her head out,"Yer right driving?"He shrugged and walked back around the truck, resting the handcannon on his shoulder as if the weight of it was of any consequence.
"Ty!"
He said, swinging open the door to the driver's side, "I-"
He felt a sudden tinge of pain as a white-hot sensation scorched through his nerves, it was if his torso was on fire. Before he could react, two bloody .556 rounds exploded out of his chest, smacking into the driver's side door of the car, stopping halfway through the chassis. He dropped down, spinning in place and landing on his rear end. He lifted the Desert Eagle up and squinted, his free left hand gripping his torso as sheer agony wretched his facial features. Through this, he made almost no sound and intentionally dropped down so his comrades wouldn't be any the wiser.
He squinted his right eye to look down the sights of the Desert Eagle, scanning the immediate area. He had heard gunfire, but from where? Who the hell shot him? His question was answered seconds later as a bloody, beaten raider emerged from a burst of sand screen, firing wildly in their direction. He lifted the Desert Eagle with his right hand and squeezed the trigger. Immediately he felt the sting of his shoulder wound as the skin and muscle contracted during those movements. The recoil of the gun as well as the sudden loss of control made it jump from his hand and smack the siding of the vehicle. At least the raider was on the ground.
"Damnit, Ty!"He grunted, pulling himself up the side of the truck with a deep red streak of crimson painting the metal.
Matthew sighed, knowing it wasn't completely his fault- they were all preoccupied. He reached down and swiped the hand gun from the ground with his left hand, feeling the pain resonate throughout his arm as the muscle around the wounds contracted. He haphazardly tossed the gun inside towards Aya, making it land near her left leg. He gripped the door handle and pulled it open, moving up and sliding into his seat, leaving a trail of red wherever he placed his back. He glanced over at Aya, his left hand wrapped around his torso and a fresh, red hole in his right shoulder blade.
He leaned towards her and squinted, bringing his right hand up to her head and put his fingers through her hair for a moment, moving it aside with or without her permission to examine where the truck had hit her rather hard. Sure, there was a gaping wound but now it seemed to be more like a basic bludgeoning. He winced as he removed his hand, some loose hair coming with it. Moving his arm to the steering wheel, he threw the truck in drive and grunted as he planted his right hand on the wheel and started the gas.
"I doubt you're okay.. We'll need to give you a checkup every few hours to.. "He winced mid-conversation as he turned the wheel, a jolt of pain shooting through his right arm,"...To make sure you don't have any permanent damage."
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Post by Mikey on Jan 2, 2011 5:58:41 GMT -5
"Honestly, Ty. You should be more worried about your truck, man." Aya said. Tyson let out a small shrug.
“No smoke or steam from under the hood. Damage is cosmetic, I’ll fix it with a mallet later.” He said. Maybe more than a mallet to get the Aya shaped dent out of the front. Maybe even have to replace the grill, but the damage was purely cosmetic. Even the headlights were still there.
“Ty!” Matt yelled after Aya got into the passenger’s seat, starting to say something else when the gunshot sounded. Tyson ducked down, taking cover by the front end of the truck, readying to pop up and fire on whoever it was he had missed when he’d secured the area. But Matt had it covered.
“f**k…” He muttered, looking at whoever it was that fired the shot. A body was missing from its spot on the ground, the outline with a pool of blood in the sand visible. He’d marked the man for dead, figured it was safe. Apparently not…
He stayed quiet when he heard Matt yell at him. He could say a lot of s***. Mainly, how the f**k was he supposed to know one of them was smart enough to play possum in a pool of blood? Guess it was second nature to think of these types as pretty damn dumb. He wouldn’t do that again.
Silently climbing back into the bed of the truck as Matt got into the driver’s seat, he took one last look around the place. He didn’t see anything, but apparently that didn’t mean much. Instead he lined up the dot with a few bodies on the ground and fired off a few rounds as they started to move. Last thing he wanted was for one of them to be trying to pull the same trick, hiding an M79 instead of an M16.
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