Fallout: Fury Blood

Chapter 5: No Man Left Behind

"Covering fire!"

Lasers speared across the night airs as combat erupted into full swing. The stink of burned flesh ripened with each hit on the mark, joined by the clangs of bullets hitting his steel. Paladin Danse advanced on his foes step by step, meeting their metal hail in an attempt to drive them back and give his team the chance to escape.

"Paladin!" One of his Knights screamed over the music of battle. "Sir, you can't hold them alone!"

"Go, Lynch! That's an order!" Danse thundered to her. His power armor was wailing alarms under the constant flak, so he tossed a grenade to create a break. "Now!" He glanced back just before the frag went off to see his team scuttle from behind the dirt mound, hauling an unconscious raider between two of them. The break was short lived, as fire descended upon him with twice the previous force. Something popped on his armor's left arm, sending a jolt of pain up his bones and recoiling his aim, laser fire straying from it's mark. He growled and retook a firm hold of his rifle, blazoning their ranks in flame wildly. They wouldn't put him down, not here, not yet.

"More 'nades! More! All of them! Put him down in fire! Fire!"

Danse had heard that same deranged voice hounding the enemy lines from the moment they began their pursuit, and each time it was released, all hell broke loose. He braced himself, crouching and sheltering his head and torso with his armor's shoulder guard as grenades spawned on his position. The next thing he knew, pain was his employer, the ground was gone from beneath his feet, and the sense of his stomach was still back there, somewhere.

Another ground rushed up to greet him, but it wasn't welcoming as it slammed him in his armor and crunched his flesh with it's weight. He grunted in the impact and spat blood, fighting to right his senses and locate his rifle. Damn it. Never lose your rifle.

"He's down! Get him! Get him now, my little blood children! Taste his blood! Taste it! TASTE IT!"

Jesus. Screw the rifle. Danse forced his limbs to work and crawled to his knees, then his feet, relying mostly on what strength was left in his armor. His helmet visor was cracked and compromised half of his vision, but he just needed to move first, then he could worry about seeing. Above the beeping and fizzing of his suit, he could hear the incoming footfalls of maniacs hot on his tail. He wouldn't be torn down while fleeing. So his hand reached for the scattershot sidearm at his hip, and he spun on his closest assailant, pumping off two bursts right through the skull. A fluke, he was sure, since he couldn't see a damned thing.

The dead's brethren shrieked and roared for their vengeance, and the Paladin peppered their advance with rays, this time less lucky as most were benign. One leapt at him. An armoured fist turned him to pulp immediately. Another went low for his midsection. He was swatted off and then promptly stomped to a puddle. The third thought about his approach, then flung his toothed machete for the broken plating on the left arm. But the right arm caught the machete and snapped the arm wielding it, ripping it from it's joint to use as a bludgeon.

They stopped the melee then, and Danse, heaving in his breath, was free to push his armor to it's shortened limits of speed, chased again by a herd of bullets, grenades, and maniacal taunts.

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This one would get it in the groin this time, she decided. Widening her stance to prepare to support the kickback, Kelly waited for the gauss-sniper's V.A.T's system to hone in on it's target and blink the neon green to show it was ready. She bit her lip, held her breath as if she were actually doing the aiming herself, and kept herself like a statue. The massive ordnance boomed through her bones and reared against her shoulder as it fired, sending an arc of energy through the distance.