Guerrilla by Jon Evans & James Evans

Author:Jon Evans & James Evans [Evans, Jon & Evans, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-10T18:30:00+00:00

16

Ten checked the winch one last time. A couple of rounds pinged off the truck, and he spared a glance toward the base. The range was still extreme for small arms, and there was no sign of anything heavier, yet. He shook his head sadly. Honestly, if there weren’t so many of these Deathless, they wouldn’t be much sport at all. He returned to his checks, grunted in satisfaction and backed away from the winch, releasing the strapping that had held him on the cab and paying out the cable from his harness until he was right at the back of the truck.

Ten took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Then he checked his liberated parachute was in place, pulled the ripcord and waited as it unfurled behind him. He gave it one last look to check it wasn’t tangled then pressed the button on the winch remote.

He was braced for the snap but at this speed, even in this atmosphere, the chute yanked him back and up with a vicious lurch, the straps of the harness punching into his chest. It was a sphincter-tightening moment and he took a second to catch his breath.

He was rising fast, over a hundred metres in just a few seconds. Craning his neck, he checked the parachute again; it was still free and clear and fully inflated. Good stuff, time to get cracking.

The truck was five hundred metres from the base, now. The Deathless had got over their surprise at being fired upon and were shooting back, their bullets sounding like hail as they rattled from the thick alloy of the truck. Had they seen him up here? Ten wondered, before concluding that they probably hadn’t. Goodwin had put the headlights on full beam a couple of minutes ago, and this thing was designed to be operated twenty-four hours a day; it was bright and obvious, with more lights than a shopping centre at holiday time.

With a bit of luck, the Deathless would focus on the unstoppable behemoth heading toward their gate. Ten wondered if they just hadn’t realised how big the truck was. Maybe they were confused about the difference between very small and far away?

The remote strapped to his wrist showed him at three hundred metres, which was more than enough. He tapped the control and slowed the winch until it stopped paying out cable. Three hundred metres from the base, time to get the party started.

“Goodwin, can you start the light show and effects, please?”

“Do you mean you want me to fire the grenade launchers?” Goodwin asked, somewhat testily.

“Yes, the fire the grenade launchers.”

“Why didn’t you just say that then? Firing now,” she replied.

Bloody wet behind the ears kids, he thought, no sense of style. Didn’t they realise how much fun this was?

The pair of grenade launchers attached to the lip of the dump truck’s hopper, let forth a volley of grenades. Three each then a two-second pause and another three. Ten turned up the filtering on his

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