"Ah! Shitshitshit. I'm going to stick this so far-oh shit." Gazza flinched as shrapnel and brick debris stung his hand through Kevlar gloves. He gritted his teeth and crouched behind the quickly disintegrating concrete barricade. Gripping the wrist of the limp defender beside him and flipping him over his back, he made a dash for the train station as the barricade was rent apart by successive blasts. Across broken ground, around cars, behind concrete blocks and over smoking holes in the road he ran.
Opening his eyes, his head spinning Gaz instinctively clawed for his rifle and scrabbled onward. Recalling moments ago the sickening thump, his burden coming apart, a mess of limb and gristle, overbalancing with the sudden loss of weight...
'Never stay still, never run straight...'
Leaving a trail of blood in his footsteps he reached the first wall, squeezing through a fresh crack, still hot from the high density penetrating round which broke it a minute or so ago. He wondered why he was still alive. Terror converted into adrenaline could only go so far. Surviving on luck was cheating.
"Trix!" Gaz cried into the radio on his lapel, his back slipping down the inside of the second wall.
"You OK? Where are ya? What happened...?"
"Benjy's bought it, they're just ootside the station wi' serious artillery." Gaz interjected. Three massive thuds came from the second wall, drowning out the ever-present small arms cacophony.
"Too many to take head on, man. We'll haftae get roon the back o' them."
"Can you hold 'em off for...” Above the protective wall, the station sign exploded into splinters and dust. The cloud descended on Gaz. He used the opportunity to get inside the station proper, hoping any thermal rifle scopes would be foiled by the thick dust.
"NO, I cannae!" Chunks of hot metal clanked around him. The stations facade was being pounded into powder. His heartbeat made his chest feel like is was about to burst. He took the ticket counter at a leap and slammed down a lever to close the tough tungsten gate across the entrance.
"You cowardy scots fuck. Alright, blow the street."
"Love you too, you whore." Gaz retorted, though she had disconnected.
Gaz was already up the rubble-strewn stairs, following the tangled wires that lead to explosives hidden under the torn asphalt of the road. Something ricocheted along the landing. The gritty dust got in his eyes. The tang of smoke choked his throat. He staggered up another flight of chipped stairs and onto the remains of the top floor, into the open air. The explosions were no longer muffled. Sliding across the floor he came to a crouch behind a dented metal screen. Every bullet made it ring. A little black screen came to life at his touch. A thermal and visible light view of the street came up. 'They' were just moving out of the cover of the buildings across the streetand among the broken barricades. Most were on foot, a few stalking taller in exoskeletal suits.
Gaz waited. He wiped some dirt from his eyes.
The footmen swarmed between concrete blocks sculpted by gunfire. The assorted exo's picked their way around mud-filled craters , keeping to solid ground that could support their considerable weight.
Gaz tested his limbs, to find out if anywhere was undamaged.
The rearguard came out from cover as the gunmen scaled the first wall.
Gaz hovered his thumb over the switch.
They reached the second wall. An exo was carrying two other men on it's back over the first wall.
Gaz cleared his throat and blinked.
A man with a hybrid machine pistol in one hand, grenade in the other, put his foot on the flagstones outside the buckled station gate.
Gaz curled up and pressed down.