The Last Abrams

New Town, New problem

"On behalf of the people here, I want to thank you for rescuing everyone."

"It was nothing Mr...." Wyvern strummed.

"The name is York." Before anything else could happen an engine roared through the town.

"What's that?" Jackson questioned. A teenager jumped off a motorcycle and ran his way to York

"Sir!" he called.

"What's happening, son?" York asked.

"Slavers from the south and they have tanks!" the scout exclaimed.

"What's their count?" York demanded. The scout handed York a polaroid and he gasped. He then handed it to Jackson and he examined the photo. The photo was blurry but Jackson could perfectly make out the vehicles they had. Five M4 Shermans were shown driving across a field and was led by a single German Tiger tank.

"They have heavy armor but it's outdated," Wyvern thought out loud.

Jackson turned to the scout," Did they see you?"

"No, they didn't and they're a couple of hours out," he replied.

"Good. Ok, I have a plan," Jackson said grabbing a conveniently placed map, "there's a ridge that connects to a field which we can use as a killing zone. We'll fortify the ridge and ambush them as they get close."

"Ok but what about weapons and ammo?" someone asked, "we barely have our own weapons."

Jackson grinned as he took a large box from the tank and dropped it to the ground. Guns, spears, grenades, and ammo poured out of the box. "I looted these off the slavers and it looks like they'll be put to use."

Hours Later...

Jackson was beside the Abrams as it laid camouflaged and dug in. Foxholes and makeshift bunkers fortified the ridge for the pending slaver attack. Villagers armed with pistols, rifles, an assortment of different weapons stood beside him as he donned his body armor and HK-416. Wyvern was seated in the commander's compartment and Dana was operating the M2 machinegun. The plan was simple, use the Abram to take out enemy armor and finish off any stragglers.

"Sir!" yelled a man with a hunting rifle, "our preparations are ready and the slavers are two minutes out."

Jackson nodded, "Alright everyone in position! We fire after the Abram does!" People saluted, moving towards their positions. Jackson took his position beside the tank, positioning his rifle to the killing field.

"Jackson?" asked Dana from on top of the tank, an uneasy look on her face.

"What's wrong," replied Jackson.

Dana scratched the back of her head, "I really never shot at or killed people."

Jackson put on a smile, "Don't worry. Just think about the people you're going to save." Dana nodded and put her hands on the triggers. Jackson looked through his ACOG scope and spotted a cloud of dust. "Wyvern, you see that, right?"

"Affirmative, acquiring target," Wyvern replied. From inside the Abram Wyvern turned the turret towards the cloud and found the enemy force. The Tiger lead the charge with the Shermans close behind. Following them technicals and troop transports followed suit.

"500 meters!" called Jackson. Wyvern rested her finger on the trigger. "400 meters!" Men and women gripped their weapons and said their prayers. "300 meters!" Dana pulled the charging handle. "200 meters!" Jackson lined a truck driver in the sights of his rifle. He threw his forward, "Fire!"

Wyvern pulled the trigger, "Boom..." A uranium tipped shot left the 120mm cannon and before the Tiger could react, it was already a smoking hulk. Gunfire erupted from the ridgeline. Jackson fired a burst of 5.56 into the head of a driver, brain splattered onto the seat and it swerved in front of a Sherman, which crushed said pinnacle. The Wyvern fired again and sent the turret of a tank flying into the air, crushing a technical underneath it. Jackson smiled at the carnage before resuming his fire, killing a slaver who decided to dismount. Dana let loose with the .50 cal making mincemeat of the trucks and tearing the slavers a new one. One by one the trucks stopped, either to losing their driver and to dismount men. Either way, they were cut down.

"Incoming!" yelled a villager. One of the advancing Shermans was aiming at the ridgeline and fired its 75mm cannon. An explosion erupted from the line.

"Shit," muttered Jackson as he made his way towards the aftermath. The Abram fired in retaliation, engulfing the Sherman and slavers in the explosion of a HEAT shell.

"My leg! My Leg!" Jackson ran up to the flames and saw two men. One had his lower torso torn off and the other's leg was suffering from bad burns. Sliding to the injured man, Jackson realized who it was. York was writhing in pain out in the open.

Jackson grabbed York by his shoulders and began to drag him to cover, "I got you, Stay with me." Dragging him behind the tank, he began to wrap the burnt leg in bandages.

"Dad!" Dana jumped from her perch and knelt beside her father, "what happened?"

"He was caught in an explosion, but he will be fine. But just look after him ok," Jackson explained. Dana began to embrace her father as Jackson began to man the turret. Another Sherman was destroyed as a Sabot tore through the metal. Slavers took cover behind the burning hulks of their vehicles and returned fire. Villagers took cover, but some weren't so lucky. Men fell down the ground gripping their wounds as their comrades tended to them. Jackson trailed the .50 cal on the wrecks and let the lead fly. Bullet casings and dirt flew past him as he fired the M2. The bullets pierced the weak metal of the wrecks blowing holes through them and their occupants. The battle raged on as the Abram fired once again tearing a Sherman in two.

"Get some!" yelled Wyvern as she turned to the last tank. Smirking, she pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Confused she pulled the trigger multiple times and when she looked at the loader, she realized it was jammed. "It's jammed!"

Jackson grinned as he took off, "Give me some covering fire!"

"What is he doing!" yelled Dana as she saw him jump off the tank.

Wyvern shrugged, "Dunno" So Wyvern let loose with the coaxial M240 Bravo. Jackson charged forward towards slavers firing his 416. A slaver stood up from his car to fire his pistol and was met with a stream of bullets from Jonas. Sliding across the hood Jackson kicked down another and laid some fire into his chest. The last Sherman seeing Jackson's rampage turned it's turret to him. Seeing this Jackson, primed a frag grenade and threw it into the dirt in front of the tank. The frag exploded sending dust, dirt, and smoke into the air obscuring the tank's view. Losing its target the tank searched around before footsteps could be heard on the roof. The gunner opened the hatch only to meet a rifle barrel.

"Hi," Jackson mocked as he put a hole into the driver. Pulling the pin off a grenade, he dropped it through the hatch. Jumping off, an explosion sounded in the tank and smoke piled through the roof. Seeing this the slavers began to retreat, seeing their armor destroyed. Giving a yell the defenders charged their oppressors, cutting them down across the bloodstained field. Raising his rifle above his head, Jackson roared, "Victory!!!"