Flesh Wounds

Chapter Eighteen "Hell off Earth"

Nick Pov

"Could say the same to you," I knew 34 already knew this but we were the ones carrying him still. The least he could do is be grateful. 

34 waves his hand off, "Yeah whatever, how close are we to getting out of here?" he asks for some answers to us being in the middle of nowhere with crashed phantoms around. 

Sparky responded quickest, cutting off 5000's words by a bit, "We've been driving towards an extraction point, soon we'll be there."

34 snickers and sighs out sharply afterward, his body looked like it was barely holding itself together, "No more waiting then, let's get the hell off this shithole." 

We all load up into the Warthog, two in the front and two in the back as it trikes on its soon-to-be last drive of its mechanical life. 

"So, sleep well?" 5000 asks as he drives us down the rugged terrain, towards the rapidly approaching wreck yard.

"Like a fucking rock," 34 responded with minimal emotion. He sounded like he was done with this terrible nightmare and I did not blame him, I wanted off of this planet as well.

I thought of 34 in his unconscious state. Clearly, he had a problem and uncomfortable but seemingly lucid dreams. "Quite a talkative rock you are then," I added, causing him to glare at me in both confusion and deadly anger. I put my hands up, not saying anything else to set him off.

The drive was much more silent besides the engine and suspension as the warthog bounced down the terrain. The gateway into the wreckyard was coming up, at least one of the assumedly many entrances. 

The gate seemed still active as the power here must run on a generator of some sort separate from the city. The automatic camera scanned over the warthog and opened the gate, still working automatically luckily. We drove through and sped down through the facility. Gunfire was getting louder and firey remains of human encampments were spotting up now.

"Hey, there she is, our savior," 34 said unamusedly as the ship came into view, it was under massive attack.

"We better hurry!" Sparky yelled and 5000 stepped on the gas, taking turns to tight to be safe for anyone. 

A roadblock ahead with many covenant guarding comes to view, but just in front of that, a human squad trying to break through. 

"Hey, we've got some backup!" A marine yells and waves us over to his cover; They had set up quick makeshift sandbag barriers and they all looked scared out of their minds. "Am I glad to see a friendly helmet or two, wanna help get through?"

I stood beside the warthog as 34 hopped off and staggered to them. They discussed a plan as we all sat, dormant. "We've got just about no ammo," Sparky added to their conversation.

"Well we've got just about nothing, so were basically pinned," The marine walked in circles now, clearly thinking while everyone else seemed to as well. 

5000 steps forward, "How about a charge, weaklings in the back and the strong in the front," he loomed over with his large stature.

"The only person who is actually equipped for something dangerous like this is you," 34 stood in front of 5000 and held his arm, "If you're gunna do something stupid then take this," they made a transaction hidden between their two figures before 34 stepped back, "I expect this back once we're home." A new hilt was in 5000's hand, a bronze looking color upon it.

"Load up the warthog and get ready to shoot!" The marine captain pointed at the last of his fighters, "Hope you don't mind when we take this to get closer to the action," bringing himself into the seat to help the others jump up and into the back.

"She's on her last leg anyway," Sparky said with a mourn in his voice, "I would've fixed it if I could've." Clearly, Sparky was not too happy about the destruction or abandonment of the equipment. 

"How about we just embrace the suck and get ready," 34 limped to the Warthog, "I am running low myself, I'm going to hitch a ride with yah," He crawled up the side and sat in the back, he was given an assault rifle. 

"You coming beside me?" 5000 walted up to me with the two hilts in his hands, one green and the other an orange. 

"More like behind you, but I'll run beside you, though this might be it," I had remorsely said, quite a surprise for 5000 to hear.

He put a hilted hand on my shoulder, "No worries, we'll either make it out or die. Either way it'll be fine," 5000 tried to console me. Clearly his skill in conveying that empathy was not strong.

"Thanks?" I didn't know how to respond to such a deeply conserning message like such but it was close enough to support. 

The rest of the human resistance, which was about three able-fighters, stacked up behind the warthog, ready to follow once we started sprinting through the middle. "Hey! Bloody guy!" One of the marines from the warthog called me over and then tossed me a SMG. "Either you find ammo or pick up one of the elite's weapons." 

I'm quite aware of improvising weapons, so I ignore the obvious advice, especially since it is a very dire situation. Of course it will come down to using the enemy to defeat themselves but I've been closer than this to dying so far.

"Well, get in there," 34 pointed towards the open dirt road and ordered 5000 and I to charge noncerimonial.

"Let's see whether or not we get home," 5000 had announced seconds before turning that corner; the beggining of a hellish fight full of desperation and flaming hope. It was an incredibly hot flame and burning with metal melting properties but that was besides the point. 

34 finished with his crackling voice, "Die or don't," Quite a quote.