My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to control my breathing to calm myself down.
Daring a peek from cover, I slowly glanced at the trail of omnics marching below the ruins of the building I was currently hiding in. Looking across, I noticed some of my team preparing to engage in case they found us.
I lock eyes with one of them and slowly shake my head, and they proceed to stand down.
The omnics continue on, their heavy footsteps becoming just an echo in the distance as I release my breath that I just realized that I was holding.
Turning back to the room I was currently hiding in, heads start to peek out from various objects they were using as cover. That was much too close for comfort. If we were discovered here, all 500 survivors were at risk.
500 survivors out of the almost 9 million that used to call New York City their home. A home that was now mostly ruins and dust at this point.
We all quietly started to make our way to the next building. Kids who were fortunate enough to still have their parent clung to them dearly while remaining silent. Those who didn't have their parent huddled around any adult who graciously accepted their company.
It didn't matter if you liked kids prior to the war or not, while trying to wade through the rubble, there was guaranteed to be at least three kids accompanying an adult at the moment. Save for those of us in the military. The kids learned really quick about the consequences of being too close to one of us should a gunfight break out.
That made me smile weakly at how ironic it was. We came here to save them, but now it seemed like we also needed saving.
At first, we assumed that omnics just had the numbers advantage on us, but we found out that they were getting smarter as well. Ambushes were sprung at the times we'd least expected. They would actually flank our positions.
A current deadly tactic that they would do is lead massive manhunts at night. During the day, they would send small skirmishes to scout out different areas near the edge of the city. But during the night, they would attack with massive numbers.
Not only that but coupled with the dust that would become unsettled in their march, it was neigh impossible to see them. We learned too late not to engage in battle with them at night before our own numbers were whittled down.
Shaking my head to clear up my thoughts, I regained focus back on the task at hand. For months, we were attempting to escape New York City, but to no avail.
Lines of Bastion units sat near the outskirts of the city, preventing escape without engaging in a gunfight. With the massive number of survivors, escape was not an option. Not unless sacrifices were willing to be made. Too many were already made, and I don't know if I had the strength to make a call.
The game plan was to find a hole in their defenses and exploit it in an attempt to get as many out as possible. This place was the most ideal to have them escape, as it led to the vast wildness the survivors could use to hide from any omnic oppression.
Unfortunately, it was also as heavily guarded as everywhere else, and it was also the last place to check. Disappointment ran through the survivors, and I knew morale lowered even more than it already was.
My right-hand man crawls on the ground right next to me.
"You know we have little choice now." He whispers.
I know what he's implying, but I don't respond to him. Not taking the hint or refusing to, he continues.
"We don't have enough supplies to sneak across to another area. If we tried, we somehow always find another mouth to feed and watch over and no support for us. The only option we have now, is to force a gunfight here, have them run towards the opening we provide and hope they make it out.
A lot are going to die, but think about how much more will survive. We were lucky so far not letting any survivors get caught up when we ran across any omnics, but how long can we keep that up? Think about how many will die when we mess up there. This is our final chance, but we have to take it now."
I continue to stare at the omnics in front of us as his words resonating with me as I think on it. How much long could I pretend that this wasn't the only option. God, I never hated this city as much as I did now.
Turning to him, I silently nod, and he quickly moves to relay the orders. Pretty soon all the adults know the plan and I refuse to meet their gaze. I don't need to, as I know what I'll see back at me.
Is this how I'll be remembered? The man who gambled with 500 lives. Taking a deep breath, I slowly inched forward to close the distance between the remainder of my men and the Bastions.
Our best hope was to focus all our firepower on the Bastions dead ahead of us and toss a smoke grenade. That way, the Bastions couldn't really see the people and would give them a chance.
As five others crawl to where I am, we nervously pause to steel our nerves one last time. Deciding that if this was going to happen, I needed to make the first move.
Rising to a kneeling position, I bring out a single grenade that was meant for this very moment. Unclipping the pin, I toss it at the Bastions. They notice the grenade and don't bother to move. Instead, the front row transfigures into turrets and point their barrel in our direction.
Seeing that the grenade won't go off in time, and we're going to get mowed down, I don't bother to drop. Knowing the enemy, they most likely will pin us down with bullets as we get flanked. This was a bad call. One that I allowed. Closing my eyes, I wait the bullets to riddle my body.
An explosion snaps my eyes open, and I can't believe what I'm seeing. Scattered parts of Bastions were everywhere, as blue sparks arced between them, making them power down. The rest of the Bastions turn to face behind them. A huge shadow looms over them as a loud voice booms out.
"HAMMER DOWN!"
A huge man in gray armor comes down, smacking his hammer down, quaking the earth in a line on the Bastions bringing them to the ground. Taking advantage of their momentary stun, men with blue uniforms shoot pelt the Bastions with bullets and rockets, destroying them within seconds.
Within seconds, the Bastions that blocked our way to freedom were reduced to just scraps. A figure with a black reflective mask with two blue horns protruding from the top wearing a blue jacket like the rest of the men stepped forward.
He taps the side of his mask, revealing a handsome teen underneath who asks,
"I take it that you're the one in charge, so to speak?"