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The Girl and the Armor
42 — Finishing the Foes

42 — Finishing the Foes

Helmet woke with a sudden gasp and stared at the blue sky above for a moment. The sounds of gunshots in the distance motivated him to stand up and survey the area. Glasses lay facedown, and the older man reached to shake him awake. That was when Helmet found his left arm had gone missing—the one he had held out with the detonator.

The older man shook away the sudden pain that came with seeing an injury and shook Glasses awake with his right arm. The boy groaned and reached for his glasses. The shattered remains laid next to his head, and he tossed them aside as soon as he saw they were useless.

“I think we killed it,” Helmet said as he looked up to the burning worm base, “but that was one hell of a foe. Damn, I could use a smoke after that one.” He reached into his pocket and shook his head.

“What do…”

“But no time for that now. It sounds like there is a scuffle over there. How are you doing on ammo?”

“Two magazines, plus whatever’s left in the gun, you?”

“One full, and what is in the gun. Damn, this was a tough one.”

“Do you think we made a good dent?”

Helmet looked back at the burning building.

“I’d say so; now, let’s get a move on. Can you walk?”

“I can if the battles still going,” the younger boy replied as he pushed himself up on shaky legs.

The duo steadily marched to where the enemy had gathered—several Worms convened on the spot simultaneously. As they came close, they opened fire on the backs of the Worms, whose attention was focused on their fallen companions.

“You two aren’t dead, are you?” Helmet cried to them, and he barely heard Slack's weak reply as he ducked to cover. A laser shot from a Worm tore into the ground where he had stood moments prior. Glasses emptied his magazine on the armed invader, and it exploded into a ball of fire. He rushed to cover next to Helmet and reloaded.

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“How many do you think there are?”

“I dare say this is the rest in the village; we’re just finishing up for the janitor now; how many did you count?”

“Five until I blew one up, so four.”

“Four Worms and three full magazines. We’re in a predicament!” Helmet leaned out from cover and fired into a Worm creeping close to their spot. “We better move.”

The duo fled the cover as a burst of fiery energy disintegrated it. They turned to the last worm with a weapon and focused in. Helmet fired from the hip but had trouble without his second arm to hold it firm. The gun was soon empty, and the Worm still stood. Glasses rushed to the side of the opponent and pressed his rifle into it. He emptied another magazine, and the invader fell over dead. Quickly reloading, Glasses rushed to Helmet and swapped the last mag in his ally’s gun. They turned to the remaining three Worms and took down two at the expense of their bullets. The last Worm hissed, if it was suitable to call the sound that escaped it a hiss, and made an aggressive step toward the duo. Helmet and Glasses held their empty guns like clubs and separated. They shuffled in a circle around the Worm, whose head snapped back and forth to look at each.

“There should still be a pistol in the car if it survived the blast,” Slacks shouted shaky words to the duo as he held his ear close to Bandana’s mouth. “He’s still breathing, but barely,” the bald man added through several coughs.

Helmet signaled to Glasses and charged at the Worm. The gun bounced off the metal exoskeleton with a ping, and the older man was driven into the ground by a heavy punch—his ribs feeling like they had been shattered. He gasped for air as the Worm turned its round head to the young man. Glasses was carefully leaning into the scraped jeep, looking for the gun. The Worm stomped across the ground, picking the unsuspecting boy up by the leg. As Glasses was pulled, he found the gun and hung upside down with the pistol aimed. The Worm squeezed his leg, and the boy shot several times as he yelped. Pinging from the ricochet indicated that the shots landed, but to no avail. Glasses was thrown at the approaching Slacks, and both hit the ground.

Helmet held his torso. He pushed through the pain of shattered bones and internal bleeding and sat up. Glasses held his injured leg as Slacks pushed back to his feet. The bald man gritted his teeth and took the pistol from the boy. Three bullets remained, but the sniper didn’t let a single one go to waste. All three hit the Worm's head, and the invader shook viscerally, but it remained standing.

The Worm jabbed its metal hand into Slack's body and threw the bald man to the ground. He writhed with pain as the invader strode closer. It brought down a stomp and Slacks went unconscious with a gasp. The Worm turned to Glasses and slowly trudged closer. The young boy tried desperately to back away with his arms and single intact leg. As the Worm bent low to grab Glasses head, its head exploded in a gunshot burst. Those awake, Helmet and Glasses turned in shock to the side. Laying on her stomach, holding a now empty rifle in shaky hands, Angela stared at the scene with wide eyes.