At the helicopter-
"Thanks," said the officer as
Lisa helped him to his feet. "I'm
Lt. Alan Curtis, U.S. Air Force. One of the men turned and attacked the pilot, and we went down. I'm not sure how I got out here. Must have been thrown during the crash. We've got to save my men." He hobbled after
Tsuba towards the remains of the chopper.
"I'll stay with the bike," said
Lisa. "Take care of yourself."
Tsuba and the lieutenant raced towards the wreck. As they got closer, they could both clearly see a growing engine fire. More and more black smoke spilled from it and billowed all around.
"Kill 'im! He's turned!" shouted one man from within the helicopter.
"Kill that bastard! Kill him! And anyone help me!" called another.
A third man, barely visible through the smoke, standing in the entrance with his back to the outside world yelled: "Shit...we got company!
Hodges is right, everybody out, now! This place is a deathtrap!
Kincaid, get
Doolittle under control! Remember where we are people, I want everyone ready for a world of shit outside this bird!"
Lt. Curtis drew his sidearm as he followed
Tsuba into the helicopter and stood beside the man in the entrance. They met with a horrible sight.
(Tsuba, you may have either your pistol or your rifle ready, your choice.)
The destroyed aircraft was filled with the dead and wounded. A woman wearing a white armband with a red cross on it lay still amid the twisted metal, and a big crewman with sergeant's stripes lay motionless in the cockpit, blood leaking from various wounds. Another man lay dead in the cockpit, having been shot mulitple times. The pilot was also quite dead, and the co-pilot was
screaming her head off. Another crewman with a moderate wound was trying to move her, but had little success. There were four other men present: two grievously wounded, and two with lighter wounds who helped them stand up.
"It's okay, guys," said one of the latter men to the other two. "
Kincaid took care of him. We've got to get out of here." Then he turned to the cockpit and saw the pilot begin to thrash around. "He's alive!" A second later, the pilot ripped through his straps, lumbered to his feet, and reached for the co-pilot and surviving crewman, his eyes bloodshot. "Look out!" He fired, wounding him slightly in the left leg. The lightly wounded man beside him cried out in terror and fired, blowing the pilot's right leg off. The pilot reached out for his prey as he fell forward. The crewman recoiled, curled up, and began to lick his wounds.
(Tsuba, roll Sanity. Sanity loss is 0/1d10. If you lose 5 or more Sanity, you must roll Idea. You want to fail this roll, since you will go temporarily insane if you succeed. If you remain sane, you may get off one shot before the pilot attacks, using whichever weapon you've got ready. The range is point blank, so your skill is doubled, but there's no time to aim for the head and you'll need to roll a random hit location on 1d20. Remember that if you get 1/5 or less of your effective skill after doubling it, this is an impale and you roll double the damage dice - 4d6+2 for the AK-47 or 2d10+4 for the .45 automatic.)
Northwest of the motel-
"Thanks, I'll be careful," said
Keith. He blew
Melinda a kiss as he ran into the grass to the northwest, soon reaching
Lisa. He unslung his AR-15 and carefully followed his brother to the chopper.
The first of the two wounded men from the motel reached the vehicles in the parking lot. The big black man had a white armband with a red cross on his sleeve. He had clearly taken a lot of punishment, both physical and mental, but he was somehow able to keep going. "I'm
Airman Steve Phillips," he managed, out of breath. "This is
Senior Airman Carlos Duran behind me." He pointed to the man limping across the parking area to catch up. "Keep your distance, this is dangerous."
Clarence nodded to him respectfully. "I'm
Clarence Deeds," he said. "U.S. Marine Recon, retired. My boys and I are no strangers to danger, and it looks like you can use our help."
More gunfire erupted from within the helicopter.