The Biomass Revolution (The Tisaian Chronicles) by Nicholas Smith Page B

his heart pounding in his chest.
    Deep breath, deep breath.
    Quickly he snuck a look around the corner of the truck’s deflated rear tire. He crawled underneath the bumper and maneuvered the rocket launcher onto his shoulder, waiting for the crosshairs to lock onto its target. He gripped his weapon tightly.
    Patience.
    Obi lay in the ash, reciting a customary prayer for the soldiers he was about to kill. And then, without hesitation, he pulled the trigger, watching the fiery trail of the missile streak towards the idle Scorpion before exploding under its brush guard. The crimson wave of heat blasted the vehicle ten feet into the air before bringing it back to the dirt in a flaming ball of fire.
    The second the missile exploded Obi was up and running, the fire singeing the hair on the back of his neck. The remaining two Scorpions were on him immediately, their mini-guns spitting hot lead into the pavement around him, sending chunks of asphalt into the air. He tossed his weapon to the ground and brought his hands to his face, shielding himself from the concrete shrapnel as he ran past a charred sedan. The bullets narrowly missed him as they blew holes the size of melons in the ruined torso of the car. Behind him the ping of the bullets rang out, the white streaks of lead zipping past his head. It was only a matter of time before one of them would tear into his exposed flesh.
    It was at that moment , when Obi couldn’t differentiate the howling wind from the bullets racing towards him, that the world slowed to a crawl. He watched as razor sharp bullets exploded out of Ajax’s assault rifle.  The muzzle erupted with flames as his friend fired blindly in the direction of the Scorpions—first at the one opposite his position, and then at the one heading towards him. But the bullets had little effect as the rounds bounced off the armor harmlessly on impact.
    Obi closed his eyes. He had never felt so vulnerable, knowing at any second a .50 cal round could tear through his soft flesh. The ping, ping, ping of bullets exploded around him as he continued to run, holding his hands around his face as bullets whizzed past his goggles. He was now within 15 feet of Ajax’s position, so close to safety and yet so far. He stole a quick glance behind him, to see the blue glow of the gunner’s goggles as he slowly trained his mini-gun on him.
    His legs were now carrying him faster than ever before. The muscles stretched, pulled and groaned as he leapt onto the hood of a car and then into the air, before coming down on the concrete floor of the bunker. He tucked his knees to help break his fall, landing with a thud. Obi coughed into his bandana as a thick cloud of ash rose into the air.
    Ajax stopped firing and slouched down onto the bunker floor, scanning Obi from head to toe for injury.
    “How did I just survive that?” Obi yelled, laughing as he frantically dusted himself off and scuffled across the floor next to Ajax.
    “Holy shit , sir, that was awesome!” Ajax yelled, as he stood to fire off another clip.
    Obi coughed again and massaged his inflamed right knee. “Don’t waste your ammo , Ajax. We’re going to need every round we can get,” Obi said, bringing his wrist radio to his face. 
    “ Creo, this is Obi. I took out another one of the Scorpions. Can you get a visual of the remaining two from your position, over?” At this point, Obi didn’t care if the CRK heard their radio transmissions; they were cornered and needed help fast.
    “Negative sir, t he dust storm is too violent for us to get a visual, please advise, over.”
    Obi cursed under his breath, pulling his pistol from the holster attached to hi s right boot.
    “We need to get the hell out of here,” Ajax shouted over the gunfire.
    “I know, god damn it, I know, but Creo and Nathar are too far away to get a shot. I think we’re going to have to make a run for it.”
    Obi stood with his pistol at the ready. Ajax followed suit, jamming a new clip into his