by Brian Cotton
***
Sullivan heard the call and stood from his position. He fired his assault rifle at two USR soldiers then turned and made a B-Line for one the trucks. All the rebels around did the same thing, running for any available vehicle as instructed in the briefing. Sullivan stopped, remembering that X was hobbled by a bullet wound to the leg. When he turned, he fired his rifle at the soldiers who were chasing after them. He took out three and then caught a glimpse of X limping towards him.
“Just go, man!” X cried.
“No way!” Sullivan replied as he took out another soldier.
“We’ll never make it!”
“Yes we will. Come on!”
X propped his arm over Sullivan’s shoulder. Sullivan called for Statue, Dopey, and Pinkie to give them cover as they moved. The three who provided cover started to back pedal and fire their weapons at the advancing USR troops.
They were moving too slow and Sullivan knew it. He tried to pick up the pace, but X’s leg injury wouldn’t allow him to move any faster. He preemptively asked Davie for forgiveness in his head as they continued to move. If he got killed out here on this field no one would save Davie from a life of brainwashed servitude. But, Sullivan just couldn’t turn his back on X, or any of the other men who he had just done battle with.
“You gotta move faster!” Sullivan yelled.
“I’m trying, Puerco!” X replied.
