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Racing through the streets behind his comrades with las-rifle in hand, Alexander Variance ducked down soon as he heard a clicking-clank that released something to go whoosh and then stream pass his bare head and crash into the cement building beside him. Which caused a shocking impact combined with shards of rubble and dust to hit next to Alexander and his mates and threw them off their feet and partially onto their backs.
Dazed, numb and ears hissing angrily from the shock of that blast, Alexander could only roll onto his back as everything was forwards as his conscious mind was shot out as a part his hidden unconscious was brought back up. The piece that surfaced back up was a memory of the days before it all happened or more simply to put it the day when this all did happen.
Getting control of his body again, Alexander was getting to his as the memory rushed through his head. He was looking through into the vision of the past, watching everything go by, waking up in his crammed house, going to work in his blazes workplace at the factory and then going to the pub with his friends and to see Valerie.
Just as Alexander was on all fours, scarred hands against the dust pan street and the sound of bullets hammering out of their guns and denting into the street and men crying and panicking, his head looked up with mouth gaping like he was some kind of dog as he stared out evidently still trapped inside his memories. Going through them, Alexander saw his hands pulling out a small case and presenting it to Valerie, who was laughed out just to see it.
“Alexander what are you doing!” Rushed back one of his mates that had recovered quite a while ago, grabbing his bare arm. “We have to get moving!”
Without saying anything, he just allowed him to haul himself up to his feet and follow behind him again rushing behind the wall of set up defences that consisting of nothing more than house furniture, street rubble and loose bricking and could only cover up to a man’s waist, that made it easy for one of the crudely made greenskin war walkers to turn around and notice the two men trying to sneak pass it. Not having that, the little vermin inside levelled up his gun and began firing the rapid shooting weapon.
“Come on!” The man yelled.
“I can’t!” Gritted Alexander a shard of glass from the explosion had flung into the back of his leg had only set in the pain across his nerves causing him to collapse behind the set-up wall just in time for the bullets to course pass and only hit into his friend instead, blowing off his head from the impact of the bullet. “No!” He yelled in disbelief that just happened in front of him.
But the exhaustion and already fast blood loss was taking effect that he slumped down with fingers clenching the ground as he tried to stay awake. Though as he did, his sub-conscious presumed its flashback of where Valerie couldn’t sit on her seat to stay steady enough for Alexander to talk, but just as he used hand waves to settle her down, the heard a cawing earthshake that was little thunder, except it came from the ground somehow with how they could tell and the next the whole building came down on him.
“Keep with us!” Yelled Henry Thompson shaking him.
Up again but still dazed with what was going on, Alexander saw around him suddenly that some of his lads had taken up a position here with their low-quality las-rifles and other such weapons, in semi-civilian clothes such as plain-t-shirts and shoes and semi-guardsmen clothes that consisted of some having cadian helmets or/and flak-vests or/and boots with among a few looted gear such as strapped pieces of metal across their shoulders or chest. Alexander himself only wore a large white-shirt, with mud-camo trousers and military boots with a scrap of metal wrapped around his hand with yellowish white clothe to serve as a hand guard and knuckle duster.
The reason for such low equipment was because this was the twelfth Whosville militia. It was a rapidly set up regiment like many of the other ones across the planet due to the unexpected arrival of the ork waaagh! and how they had managed to overpower their garrisons and stationed Imperial guard regiments. The politicians had then made many calls for the citizens to arms, where they handed out equipment to areas, but supply trains had been raided or the governors had been too cheap to send out sufficient equipment for most of these drafted men to be properly equipped. Their regiment’s reason was because their governor was just cheap.
“What are you doing here!” Yelled Alexander soon as he got his head together. “It’s everyman from himself!”
“Rogers dead!” Hollered Henry before he poked over the wall to make a few shots at the ork construct and jumping Alexander. “That makes you the platoon leader, being that he named you his successor after Clarkson was killed as platoon leader.”
Darn thought Alexander, he was this platoon’s sixth leader, which probably now only consisted of twelve men, excluding the guy that got his head blown off in front of him trying to save him. The platoon itself had enough of loosing so many of its forces after three weeks of their regiment heavy fighting.
Before it wasn’t just their regiment, they were assisted by a detachment of fully trained guardsmen, about three-hundred of them. But as the days wore onto the seventeenth day and things were looking go, the guardsmen bailed on them. It was because they centre was in need of reinforcements, so all of the hundred guys left, just as more greenskin showed up. This so-called militia regiment then had to stay with just a clump of men, where Alexander had no idea how many were left to hold the flank.
Though just as the new wave of greenskin set in, the militia regiment already collapsed, unable to bear the full brunt of this attack. Now what men like Alexander himself were fighting in pick-pockets. Thing was that his lot were one of the few fighting with any a decent chain of commander, the rest of the militia had scattered to fight for them self, to loot what remained or to find a way of escaping without being thrown back into the front or get got by these invaders.
“Just great!” Spat Alexander knowing that this was Clarkson’s idea. “What do we do now?”
“Well there are just three of these goblin-in-armour things!” Noted Henry firing his las-rifle, reminding how they had lured the killa kanz through this street and one of them managed to land on the make-shift mine, which was basically just a bunch of frag grenades strapped together with rags covering them. Once the machine violently crushed it with its foot, the grenades angrily detonated and exploded enough to rocket off its fragile mechanic leg and fall over unable to do anything.
“There were four before!” Pointed out Alexander. “Look we can’t stay here, soon as the orks recognise that we’re here, they’ll be swarming the place like flies.”
The only reason this happened was that the men around here got too cocky once a few of the mines exploded and thought there’d only be barely one or two left underneath the frag smoke. Without orders, the eager troops aimed las-rifles and opened fire, which was where this all started happening.
“Well we can’t get out of this place, those things are covering the exits!” Countered Henry.
He was right thought Alexander. All around them were houses that had be levelled from the inside with piles of thrash and shattered remains, that you would have to dig your way pass to get through them. Therefore the only way on getting pass was through was the street path the killa kanz were standing.
“Through them.” Nudged Alexander.
“What through them!” Startled Henry.
“Well we can’t go around them, that’ll be the same as going forward but it’ll be easier for them to shoot at us and we can’t sneak by them either!” Using his authority to lecture Henry.
“Well we can’t run either because of your accursed shot leg.” Pointed out Henry.
Knowing that they were reliant upon him to hold them all together, Alexander took for a moment to think. We knew that these ork machines weren’t reliant, really their engineers only placed them together so they could work and kill, but they didn’t seem to consider on keeping them together to stay that way, meaning they have fragile weak spots. Thinking for a moment Alexander turned about lifting up one of the piles of concrete up from its place.
“Woah what are you doing!” Panicked Henry holding Alexander up to help him.
The removed piece of cover caught one of the killa kanz’ attention and it turned to level its gun at him and open fire. Bullets bings and smacked all around him, but the two were lucky not to be hit so far. Soon as Alexander lifted the concrete above his head, he threw the crag forward and it then smashed to the ground breaking into smaller bits, but there was a larger chunk that managed to keep rolling on long enough, until it wheeled against one of the kanz legs. The thump against it wasn’t enough to knock it on its on, that it was lucky the cowardly Gretchen inside thought there was mine that he triggered from the slight bump, that it assisted in lifting his foot up enough to make him go tipping off balance. The clumsy machine then fumbled in front of the other rapidly firing machine, that one of its stray shoots went fling forward and hitting into the falling comrades vulnerable gas tank on its back. The bullet penetrate through the rusted protective steel barrel and angered the chemicals inside to explode. The fallen machine slammed onto its face, just after it had fallen to its side because of the gas tank explosion and just laid there, motionless shown the Gretchen inside was either knocked out or killed from that.
Befuddled that actually worked, they saw the flames from the exploded tank lighting smoke up into the air and from what were left from the fume of the killa kanz engines. It was then they realised that it was working as a smokescreen, that blinded the killa kanz behind it. Slapping onto Henry’s shoulders he said.
“That’s as lucky as the Emperor’s going to allow us, let’s move!” Ordered Alexander.
“Right!” Acknowledged Henry, getting Alexanders arm around his neck and picking him up.
Them and the rest of the soldiers went climbing out from behind of their barricade trying to be silent and stealth. The killa kanz then begun to fire again, but this time clumsily as they couldn’t see pass the smoke that was quickly engulfing everything from the thrashed polluted vehicle. One of the machines had loaded its missile again and without thinking tried to fire out, hoping to hit one of the humans, but the missile just went way off as the guardsmen were sneaking towards them.
Though just as they hit into the smokescreen and were amongst the two remaining killa kanz, they thought they were safe. They kept their breathes silent trying to hold them, not only so they could avoid breathing in the smoke but to avoid making any noises, especially coughing ones. The blind dancing killa kanz who just weren’t sure where they humans were, but guns were levelled and ready to keep them back. Feet were battering against the ground, both hurrying and keeping controlled pace.
Something gave them away sudden however, something that caused one of the killa kanz to spin around and snatch one of the humans with its pincer hand and hoist him off his feet. The guardsman was then crying and panicking, his gun drop and his hands trying to force the machines claws off his waist that was now bloody. Whether it was because it wasn’t sure what it had or it was savouring or that it might be because of a malfunction, the killa kan didn’t fully clasp its claws on the humans waist, instead it just brought him closer.
The men around them, aimed their guns unsure how to help, knowing their lasguns wouldn’t do any good. Alexander was struggling to think at such panic and no idea what was fully going on with all this smoke. Hearing the cry of the human, the other killa kan turned about, still rapidly firing its shoota, maybe because it forgot to turn it off, startled or didn’t think that it was because his buddy had the victim. Either way the barrage of fire steered across and aimed on the two. Because they were only a short distance apart, many of the bullet went dicing and ripping through the humans flesh into chunks, making squishing thunk noises at how it just pound into his skin, but a lot of them also hit directly across his comrade, beating into his armour and damaging its gears and wires. Then either because one of the bullets triggered something by accident or because the gretchin inside wasn’t happy, one of its rockets slipped out and swooped back crashing into the face of the other killa kan and exploding.
It was hard to see what had happened now, with the smoke growing five times as thick, all they knew was that their comrade was dead and hopefully the two gretchins inside their killa kanz with everyone else. They just continued to try and run out of this smoke, keeping their mouths shut due to all the panic and confusion and felt they could get out of this mess.
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Author's notes: Hey hope I get some more comments this time, but thought this up while I was dreaming actually. The whole scene I imagined and that's why you see three killa kanz instead of something else you might have found more appropriate. Well except for the ending of how they were defeated, being that I realised I left them with more of an tough opponent with such odds, only way the could get through was with luck. Sort of thing I'm trying to get here really, is a bunch of people in a real bad situation.
The thing might be continued if I feel like it, do have a plot worked out and everything, but it'll be difficult hard and require me to explain the setting and situation a whole lot more. Overall hope you enjoy the read.
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