Blackout Renegade: Invasion Protocol: A Military Sci-Fi Superhero Thriller by Miles Rozak

Author:Miles Rozak [Rozak, Miles]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Megaulcite Press
Published: 2018-11-28T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

I gave a furtive look around. We stood against the back of the mechanical engineering complex at Novus Vista University. Thankfully, the rear wall bordered a green space, and we seemed to be far enough away from the foot traffic of the sidewalks that hopefully no one would see us.

Teague retrieved my slingshot from the zipper pouch in my backpack where I kept it as a keepsake. He knew I’d been shooting since I was little. Kitwrench had taught me years ago, before I was old enough to handle a gun.

Teague pressed its wooden fork into my chest. “You better arm yourself,” he said.

I smirked and pulled the cloth bag of stainless steel balls from the same pouch in my backpack. Standard ammo for the slingshot.

Teague jogged over to a wide square of plywood leaning against a tree fifteen meters away. A black target was spray-painted on it.

“This should be an interesting challenge,” I said, squinting at the numbers on his target. “Let’s see what I can hit from here with what he’s about to do.”

Teague crouched behind his plywood shield. “On your mark!” he shouted.

I stood with my left side facing the target, the top of my knuckles to the sky. I held the slingshot’s fork in my left hand rotated sideways, just like Kitwrench had taught me. I braced myself for Teague’s onslaught.

“Get set,” he yelled.

I watched a wide plasteen pipe peek over the top of the plywood. A red mass shot at me from the pipe. It smacked me in the face and stung pretty bad. Sweet, acidic juice dripped into my mouth. I licked my lips and grinned.

Another tomato exploded on the bricks behind me.

Oh, he’s going to pay for that.

“Go!” Teague said with a cackle. Tomatoes shot at me from his cannon, smacking me in the stomach, bursting on my shoes. Splattering on the wall behind me.

I gripped my slingshot’s pouch and drew back its rubber straps. Raising my right hand up to my cheek, I took aim and fired.

Bullseye. One of his tomatoes exploded in glorious chunks.

I dove and grabbed another steel ball. Extend, aim, release. Another one of Teague’s tomatoes burst with a satisfying pop. I charged his plywood shield, dodging the fruit along the way. I started chucking tomatoes right back at him.

Teague screamed like a little child as they smacked his ribs and neck. He leaped up, eyes wild, retreating from his shield. Twisting around, he launched another barrage at me from his tomato cannon.

But I knew better than to shoot him at this close range. All it took was pulling back the straps as if I was going to fire, and that really got him moving.

I pelted Teague with another tomato in the back of the neck as he fled. The look on his face was priceless. He looked like an accident at the pasta sauce factory. I was laughing so hard that I had to lean on my knees, just to catch my breath.

Our arsenals were spent. The university lawn was strewn with the red goo of battle.

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