New-gen chronicles

Chapter 4: The price of victory

    I lie on the floor writhing in pain. Damn that ginger girl is going to pay! First, I woke up to these two brats trying to break me out. Then I had to kill a few guards because apparently, I’m a danger to the general public. Now I have to plan how the Hell the ginger is going to pay! Hmm... drop her in a shark tank? Nah. Where would I get the sharks? Hand her over to the guards with a bow on her head? Hmm… she might just be put back in a cell or sent to a detention facility. Okay, I’m going to burn her to a crisp. Short. Simple. And I can see it through.

   

   I hear Ashley speaking with a man about five feet away from me. I peek out of the corner of my eye and see that she’s talking to a guard. Hey! I hope he knows I’ve already called dibs! Their voices are strained, but I don’t pay too much attention to their conversation since that freaking ginger kicked me square in the gonads! I hear Ashley whisper, “We’re sorry too.” Err. What the hell am I supposed to be sorry for? I’m the one who wanted to stay in my cell! I hear the familiar click of the safety on a gun being released. Oh shit! I quickly rise to my feet, preparing to melt the bullets.

   

        When the guards begin to unleash their clips at us the dark skinned man stretches his arms out, engulfing us in the bright orange light of his shield. The bullets ricochet off the wall and barely miss a few of the guards. Immediately, the bullets stop in mid-air. The first few bullets fly back, and one guard falls to the ground as the bullet grazes the side of his head. Blood trickles down his cheek as he clutches the mangled remnants of his ear, while screaming obscenities. Four of the guards quit firing, but the rest of the idiots continue to unload their clips at us. They empty their entire round of ammunition at us before the guard in charge yells, “Enough!” All of the guards pause and jerk their heads in the direction of their leader.

Shortly after he yells out his command another small platoon of guards flank in. They all stand around the shield with their guns aiming forwards.
 

“Shootin’ the shield will do you no good,” warns the guard in charge.

“Yes, sir,” responds a few guards scatteredly.
 

One of the guards walks up to the one in charge and addresses him.

 “Corporal O’Riley,” he says and salutes. “We’re here at your command, sir,” he finishes, lowering his hand and then walking back into line with the other guards.

 Coporal O’Riley walks around the man’s shield, eyeing it up and down. Then he stops directly across from Ashley and says, “Men, take out your batons.” The guards follow his command, putting their hands to their belt to pull out their one foot long metal batons. Ha! What’re they gonna do with those? Poke the shield into oblivion? The guards position themselves at different points around the shield. Okay, what are they doing? The commander stalks back and forth in front of his men, inspecting them for any perceptible signs of weakness in their ranks.

“Okay men, activate your batons!” He orders.

 The men in front flip a small trigger on the hilt of their batons. Their batons begin to light up and make a small whirring sound like the hum of a generator. They stand there, motionless as statues. The commander examines the men for a moment before his eyes rest on the shield.

 “Okay men, strike!” he yells.

At his orders the guards slammed their batons into the shield. Immediately, sparks begin to fly as soon as the batons hit the shield. Simultaneously, the dark skinned man lets out a groan as sweat rolls down his brow and he slowly drops down to one knee. Okay that can’t be good.

 The areas on the shield where the guards were striking start to fade. The shield went from bright orange to a dull yellow color. The guards continue to force their batons onto the shield causing it to slowly fade away. The dark skinned man’s other knee begins to buckle as sweat continues to drip from his face like a loose faucet. He looks over his right shoulder at Ashley,

 “Hey, I don’t think I can hold this shield up much longer,” he says through clenched teeth. Ashley’s face falls into a frown and she takes a deep breath. She looks down at the small boy with brown hair before crouching to his eye level.