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The Girl and the Armor
20 — The Man’s Charge

20 — The Man’s Charge

The volunteers and Helmet’s group had immediately fallen back to cover at the appearance of the Reaper. Staying out of arm’s reach was the most important thing when facing the machine as it smashed buildings and crushed any who couldn’t escape.

“What do we do?” cried a young volunteer as he held his hands over his head. “I never thought I’d actually have to fight one of those things!”

“Get yourself together!” Another shouted though it was unclear if he yelled to his ally or himself.

“We are in a predicament, huh?” Coat said to Helmet as he pressed close behind rubble. Both men leaned out and fired shots into an approaching Worm until it fell dead. Coat rubbed red bandages as if trying to sooth an itch without scratching it.

“That’s the least of our prob–” Helmet froze as a large chuck of rubble demolished the building they hid nearby. The Reaper had settled to pick up fractured sections of the town and toss them. “Scatter!” Helmet shouted as another attack came in. Some volunteers were consumed by the destruction before they could process what the older man had meant.

Coat coughed as he settled behind another building with a volunteer who was scared witless. Helmet took cover behind some rubble that had once been part of a wall connected to where Coat hid. The injured man peered out just enough to see another building collapse, and the Worms on foot fanned out to pick off the others. He coughed in his hand again, wiping it on the side Helmet could not see.

“It’s hopeless!” the man with Coat cried as he let his gun fall to the ground.

Coat shook his head and the volunteer. Blonde hair from the younger man shook as the movement calmed him down.

“Normally, we’re happy to get aid, but you lot are terrible!”

Coat picked up the volunteer’s gun, a much nicer rifle than his own, and pointed to two grenades hanging on the scared man’s waist. “Give me those.”

The man obliged and transferred his weapons with shaky hands.

“We can’t win!” he shouted as Coat let the rifle hang off his back and held each grenade in his hands.

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“You’re pretty young, lad; you married?” Coat asked.

The man, with a confused expression, shook his head. “Then got someone you’re interested in?” To the next question, the volunteer nodded. Coat smiled as he rubbed his bandaged wounds. “Great, then we’ll make a bet. If you get out of this alive, I want you to go propose.”

Coat ran off before the dumfounded man could reply and charged into the rubble. Several Worms suddenly turned his direction in a snap as he ran past and shouted: “Helmet, we’re expediting shipping!”

“You idiot!” Helmet replied as he burst from his cover and shot down a Worm trained on Coat. Bandana leaped from a rooftop and drove both feet into another enemy as the injured man ran toward the Reaper. The metal head of their enemy looked down at the lone human charging forward and lifted its hand to smash him like he was a bug.

Coat pulled the pin of the first grenade with his teeth and tossed it at the Reaper's head as a laser blast tore his side open from behind. As the explosion enveloped the metal skull, he slid close to the edge of the village platform and dropped the second grenade to where the feet had dug in—it exploded, knocking the legs free from the footholds. The mech fell to the ground and crashed below, and Helmet could see Angela’s Reaper closing in for the kill as he came close. Coat turned back and smiled while he felt for the side that had gone missing.

As the injured man fell to his knees, the disappearance of the Reaper caused enough of a morale boost for the volunteers to jump out and gang up on the scattered Worms. Helmet slid on his knees and caught Coat before his head hit the rocky ground.

“Damn it all!” the older man shouted.

“Hey, those kids are going to take care of that Reaper; I think we won this one,” Coat said hoarsely.

“You shouldn’t talk,” Helmet replied. Bandana grabbed the older man’s shoulder as he came in close. The fabric that gave him the nickname was pulled from his forehead and held in the tight grip of a hand over his heart. The older man nodded and removed his Helmet, revealing the graying hairs underneath.

“Hey, do you remember Mia from accounting?” Coat asked as he blankly stared at the sky.

Helmet nodded; he pressed a hand over his eyes to hide the tears.

“What about her?”

“When I see her again, I’ll ask her out like you told me to.”

Helmet closed his eyes tightly.

“It’s about damn time…. I told you that years ago,” he spat out with a shaky voice. “Make sure everyone else is doing alright too.”

“Of course!” Coat said. He had likely meant it to sound chipper, but his voice had grown so weak it was more like a whisper. “Use that coat of mine to make that girl something nice; you said her clothes were in tatters, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll try to get Slacks to sew something nice.”

“And give Glasses my regard, and you always knew how I liked to sleep under trees, right?”

“Of course, John,” Helmet’s words had become incoherent as he replied.

Coat, or John rather, said nothing more after. Helmet and Bandana stayed in place and stared up at the sky—their faces wet—as Angela finished the machine below and the volunteers rounded up the rest of the Worms.