I pulled my assault rifle around, switching it to frag mode and leveling down. “Alright, Jericho… You wanted adventure? This is about as adventuresome as you’re going to get, buddy.”
Aiming at the crumbling street right behind the S-20, because, you know, Chloe happened to be right in front of it and that seemed the best place at the time, I took a deep breath before launching my first grenade.
Concrete flew in all directions as the frag exploded on impact, causing the mammoth S-20 to rock on is mammoth legs a bit, which was all Chloe needed.
In a split second she was soaring into the air, cutting a double front flip before landing on top of the mech’s dome head. Well, it wasn’t really a head, per sey. The body of S-20 was made to resemble a human figure all but where there should have been a head there was a dome-like area where the pilot sat, peering out at the world through the God-knows-how-thick bullet proof glass, the touchscreen buttons, switches and gadgets on the said glass visible and backwards for anyone who found themselves unfortunate enough to see the pilot fingering out commands of death on the tinted dome touchscreen.
Unless it happened to be Chloe Sparks, someone who happened to know the S-20’s sweet spot.
Drawing back a curled steel-clad fist, Chloe delivered the blow of all blows directly in the center of the dome before crawling quickly to the rocking S-20’s top and leaping on the other side, crossing her arms over her chest and slipping through the hole my frag had created in the street and disappearing below into what I was guessing was the sewer.
The pilot had by this time regained somewhat of the S-20’s composure and started looking around for his two missing targets.
I frowned. Shouldn’t Chloe’s awesome fist bump of doom, I don’t know, broke the glass shield? Or at least have cracked it? I’m not a picky person most of the time so I would’ve been thrilled with at least a scratch, or something.
Then it happened.
The dome started cracking from the center, spreading out slowly at first before the veins picked up speed and the entire dome was one big shatter.
I’m going to take a shot in the dark here and say that I’m pretty sure that the dude in the pilot seat couldn’t see a dang thing. Partly because it looked that way and partly because the panicking pilot began spinning the S-20 in a complete 360, swiveling it at the waist while firing wildly with his humongous gatling guns.
Let’s not forget that Chloe was baby-blanket safe under the street while I, who was not, had to leap thirty feet backward to avoid being cut in half by bullets as they made their way to my rooftop due to the crazy carousel of death.
“Jericho,” Chloe’s voice buzzed in my helmet.
“Yes, dearest?” I cooed, darting quickly to my right to avoid more of the bullets that cut through the building beneath me like butter. My only inclinations of the approaching waves of hot lead were the visible slices that sped toward me. “Can he see?”
“No.” Chloe confirmed, “But he knows that we won’t attack while he’s firing like a maniac.”
“So what’s the plan, Stan?” I asked, again having to dart out of the way of yet more bullets. “And, please, take your time. I actually enjoy being buffeted by near-death experience after near-death experience so that makes you the real victim, here. Just FYI.”
“The glass dome is weakened. All it needs is one of your grenades.” Chloe said, “Can you get close enough?”
“If I wanted to die, yes, I’d say getting close enough to pop off a grenade or two wouldn’t be too hard. But news flash-“ I rolled out of the way of another bullet wave, “-I don’t!”
“Listen to me, Jericho-" Chloe screamed, her lecture cut short as I heard a huge groaning sound. “It’s coming through the street. Do it now, Jericho!”
Without thinking I sprinted to the end of the building, “Get away from it,” I shouted, performing the best swan dive imaginable off the side of the twelve story building. Or it would have been a swan dive had my arms been spread out in serenity instead of wielding an assault rifle, which I brandished in mid-dive, soaring directly over the S-20.
I literally felt bullets cut through the air all around me as I aimed below at the maniacal mech, “Cheers, homeslice,” I screamed, firing my grenade.
You know, it’s funny, I’d seen this maneuver done in a movie once. I’ve also fantasized about doing this maneuver in my wildest nerd dreams. But I got to say that the landing (you know, that thing that happens after you leap from a bullet-ridden twelve story building) was never part of my fantasies.
After that day, I knew why. Because when you jump off a twelve story building, no matter how drenched with bodacity whatever you do in the air is, there isn’t really a way to land that’s not riddled with pain and sorrow.
I got to hand it to whoever made the S-16, though. Those things can take a beating.
Ha. I fooled you so bad.
What? Did you actually think I was going to splat on the pavement and die? Psh. Not hardly.
My elegant/awesome dive kept going after I launched my frag and didn’t stop until I crashed through the sixth story window of the opposite building, landing hard on my armored stomach and skidding almost twenty feet before stopping when my helmet connected with the leg of a coffee table.
I don’t really remember the words I said as I climbed to my hands and knees. Just as well because it was probably something wimpy like, “It hurts so freakin' bad!”
I was inside the building for a total of literally five seconds when I felt the explosion. The floor shook beneath me before the entire room collapsed and I fell through two stories before stopping on what I was guessing was the third or fourth floor of the crumbling building.
Hoping Chloe was well away from the S-20 when it went kaboom would have been on my mind just then had not, after I got to my feet again, the building started to teeter.
It’s really hard to explain the feeling of being inside of a collapsing building so here’s my best analogy--it’s like being inside of a large wooden box falling into an active volcano and scraping along the walls all the way down.
Got a good mental pic now? Good. Now throw me, the hero of this tale, in the same mental pic yelling, sweating and running in crazy slow-motion toward the nearest window as the pitch of the floor rises more and more until I’m running up and almost vertical surface by the time I break through the icy glass.
I didn’t really fly through like Superman so, while you got that mental pic still rolling around in your little noggin, picture me, screaming like a banshee and running on the now almost horizontal brick wall of the building and not quite making it to the bottom when it finally touches down.
For some crazy reason- Yeah, I know, right? How was I not able to be thinking straight right at that moment? And yes, that was sarcasm- I ended up being right over another window when the building landed and before I knew it, I was back inside the building on a grungy couch looking up at the brick wall falling onto me.
Ouch.
Ouch more to situation than the actual feeling ‘cause it felt like I was being dog-piled by six year-olds more than buried alive by tons of bricks.
Thank you, S-16, I love you.
Chapter 17