Chapter Seventy-Five - A Flock of Trouble

    Chapter Seventy-Five - A Flock of Trouble

    PTSD, or Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, is a mental condition triggered by a terrible event, causing flashbacks, nightmares and severe anxiety.

    It was common amongst soldiers throughout history, but has impacted even civilians who have gone through traumatizing events.

    With the first incursion, the precedent for PTSD has risen to an all time high.

    Which is why you should always carry some Spauitive!

    Recommended by 9 out of 10 psychologists to instantly cure* any signs of PTSD, both as diagnosed by a medical professional, and at home!*

    Get your Spauitive today delivered right to your doorstep with a 20% discount* by entering the promo-code: Depression!Re?a?d new chapters at novelhall.com

    --An ad for Spauitive! a highly concentrated psychadellic and opioid, 2050

    ***

    Take these! I called out as I swung my arm around. Myalis, who was obviously fond of dramatics, made five turrets appear under my hand in time with the sweeping motion. Each one was bundled up with some ammunition and guns already, though they would still take some time to set up.

    Monroe, who by virtue of knowing me had been promoted from Sergeant to... still Sergeant but more in charge, pointed to teams of two and sent them off to different trucks.

    The soldiers had painted big numbers on the sides of each vehicle, and had replaced our volunteer drivers with some of their own already.

    Five groups left towards five trucks, the last ones to be fitted with gun emplacements. Think itll be enough? I asked.

    Its ten minutes from here to the FOB, Monroe said. Thats a lot of ground to cover while under attack, so every additional gun will be worth its weight in credits.

    Yeah, fair, I said. The soldiers had a pair of ladders which they were using to rush onto the roofs of some of the trailers, while others just climbed from the trucks bumper into its hood, then jumped onto the top of their trailers from there. Daring, but it worked.

    Sir! Maam! one young soldier said as he ran over. We have people moving our way. Contacts, about one hundred in all.

    Where? I asked.

    I was pointed off towards one road, the one I knew Gomorrah wasnt guarding. That way, maam.

    Monroe and I took off jogging through the drizzle, heading right towards the blockade that was even now coming apart as everything was packed away with military efficiency. That efficiency had paused as every soldier in the area was reaching for their arms and sighting down the road.

    I hopped up the low-slung fender of one of the Cleanze cars then glared out ahead at the crowd approaching us. At first glance, they were just a few dozen people in wet, bedraggled clothes. Normal folk of all ages shuffling together as if sticking together would grant them any sort of protection.

    It was only on looking carefully at the way most of them were walking with a bit of a stutter that things got really weird. Far too many of them wore bloody clothes or looked like theyd tried to tear off their outfits.

    We were greeted at the mobile base by a still-impeccable Colonel Burke. Lady Samurai, he greeted us as soon as we were on board. I take it youre ready to go?

    Yeah, I said. Lets get out of this place.

    The man nodded then turned to one of his adjuncts who seemed to be waiting for him. Give the signal, were moving back.

    There was a snap of yessir, and a moment later the entire mobile base rocked as it got into gear and started to move along with the pondering slowness of something that weighed as much as the average house.

    Well be on the roof, Gomorrah said as she moved towards the back. I shrugged, waved Burke off, and followed.

    By the time we made it to the roof of the base the entire convoy was moving, which is to say, it was crawling along at a snails pace. The roads were covered in too many wrecks to get any good speed, and with so many choke points, trucks had to slip by in single file.

    Sometimes that required that they maneuver around tight corners, stopping to realign halfway through while all the rest waited. The smaller armoured cars didnt have that problem, but they couldnt just rush ahead.

    Still, the PMCs seemed to have their shit together. They never let the convoy spread out too much and had cars waiting at intersections in case a flood of aliens spawned out of thin air.

    This endeavor of yours is working out surprisingly well. I dont know if youre making as many points as you would have had you merely kept fighting, but you are definitely saving more lives this way.

    Maybe, I said. Were still leaving a lot of people behind.

    Gomorrah looked my way for a bit, but she didnt seem to have anything to add to my apparently one-sided conversation.

    Points arent everything. They are a means to an end, and that end is often ensuring the survival of as many as you can.

    I nodded before leaning against the side of a post with a sort of antenna sticking out of it. I was... tired. The day had been a long one even if it was still just mid-afternoon. I could probably keep going, but it was only going to work thanks to an over abundance of adrenaline and some self-asskicking.

    I wanted to be back with my friends, with the kittens and Lucy.

    Was I selfish?

    Cat!

    I tore myself away from my own contemplations and looked over to Gomorrah. She was pointing to the sky. A sky darkened by flitting black forms.

    My new eye zoomed in on the mass slowing around the tops of the nearest buildings like a smog bank and made out hundreds, maybe thousands of pitch-black birds.

    Model Ones? I asked.

    More than that, the nun added. Theyre heading this way too.

    I picked up my gun with a sigh. Well, more points for us, then.