it out. I probably should have done that.
The straps were
not shifting right, it was too tight on my shoulders, and the gun wouldn’t
swing around.
I got shot in
the little toe. I was barefoot and I almost fell down it hurt so much.
“Ah!” I yelled,
and stood on one foot for a moment.
I took a deep
breath and tried to calm myself. I wasn’t going to free my gun by forcing it. I
got shot in the ear and yelped.
Finally I
turned the gun from my back and had it beside me. One long bar was in front of
me across my hips. The metal straps put weight on my shoulders. From the side I
probably looked like a suspension bridge with the cables attached to the gun. I
held the left grip to keep the gun steady.
Okay, what kind
of round should I use?
Budda dudda
dudda!
Armor piercing.
The autocannon wasn’t really auto. I had to manually chamber the round by
sliding an enormous bolt. While I was holding this seven-foot gun with just one
hand and the straps, I was tipped over and the barrel was touching the road.
I swiveled and
faced the APC with my gun about as situated as I could make it. I had my head
down because I didn’t want to get shot in the eyes.
But…how was I
going to aim this thing?
The gun rested
against my waist. It didn’t have any sights on it even if I had my eye above
the barrel. My head was more than three feet higher than the barrel and I
couldn’t tell what angle it was at. For all I knew I could be aiming fifteen
feet high.
Just shoot.
Should I say
it, though? My catchphrase. I always say it. But when I say it, bad stuff
happens.
A bullet
somehow hit me square between the eyes, even with my head down. I felt it
deflect over on my cheek and my eye closed and stayed closed.
“Eat suck,
suckface!” I yelled.
The trigger was
incredibly stiff. I’d guess it took twenty-five pounds to pull. Delovoa had
said he made it like that because the gun had no safety and it would be a big
deal if it went off by accident.
I kept
squeezing and squeezing and I suddenly worried the gun didn’t work.
Kachooom!
I saw a
five-foot fireball erupt out of the end of the barrel.
The gun was
basically on my right side. It even extended a little ways behind me. Because
of that, the recoil of the autocannon was primarily on my right. But I was
fastened to this gun with metal straps and the crossbar and of course my hands.
What happened
was, I got hurled about two feet into the air, I spun 180 degrees, and I flew
about five feet backwards.
When I landed,
I was face down with the gun under me and my arms still holding onto it. I had
been turned in such a perfectly-opposite direction that my knees bent and my
feet were sticking up in the air.
It took me a
few seconds to realize where I was and what happened. I had never moved that
fast in my life.
The problem was
I couldn’t get up. I was lying on top of my arms which were pinned under the
gun. I had a tough time doing a pushup in the best circumstances let alone
being chained to a loaded autocannon.
I wasn’t
entirely sure how vehicle fights went, but I was pretty sure that lying on my chin
facing the wrong direction wasn’t the best way to do it.
I rocked back
and forth to try and get free.
“Come on!” I
yelled.
I managed to pull
my left arm out. With that I was able to push myself onto my side and get to my
knees. I cycled the empty shell out of the gun and stood up. I watched the APC a
moment and saw some smoke but I didn’t know if that was engine exhaust or the
machine gun gunpowder or what.
I reloaded
another armor piercing round and took some time to adjust the straps on the
autocannon, which had become somewhat twisted. I was afraid if I fired again
they might strangle me.
But the APC was
silent.
Was that it?
I backed away
from the corporate vehicle, keeping the autocannon at the ready. When I got far
enough away, I turned and hurried as best I could from the scene.
I didn’t know
if I had won or they were all too busy laughing to continue
The straps were
not shifting right, it was too tight on my shoulders, and the gun wouldn’t
swing around.
I got shot in
the little toe. I was barefoot and I almost fell down it hurt so much.
“Ah!” I yelled,
and stood on one foot for a moment.
I took a deep
breath and tried to calm myself. I wasn’t going to free my gun by forcing it. I
got shot in the ear and yelped.
Finally I
turned the gun from my back and had it beside me. One long bar was in front of
me across my hips. The metal straps put weight on my shoulders. From the side I
probably looked like a suspension bridge with the cables attached to the gun. I
held the left grip to keep the gun steady.
Okay, what kind
of round should I use?
Budda dudda
dudda!
Armor piercing.
The autocannon wasn’t really auto. I had to manually chamber the round by
sliding an enormous bolt. While I was holding this seven-foot gun with just one
hand and the straps, I was tipped over and the barrel was touching the road.
I swiveled and
faced the APC with my gun about as situated as I could make it. I had my head
down because I didn’t want to get shot in the eyes.
But…how was I
going to aim this thing?
The gun rested
against my waist. It didn’t have any sights on it even if I had my eye above
the barrel. My head was more than three feet higher than the barrel and I
couldn’t tell what angle it was at. For all I knew I could be aiming fifteen
feet high.
Just shoot.
Should I say
it, though? My catchphrase. I always say it. But when I say it, bad stuff
happens.
A bullet
somehow hit me square between the eyes, even with my head down. I felt it
deflect over on my cheek and my eye closed and stayed closed.
“Eat suck,
suckface!” I yelled.
The trigger was
incredibly stiff. I’d guess it took twenty-five pounds to pull. Delovoa had
said he made it like that because the gun had no safety and it would be a big
deal if it went off by accident.
I kept
squeezing and squeezing and I suddenly worried the gun didn’t work.
Kachooom!
I saw a
five-foot fireball erupt out of the end of the barrel.
The gun was
basically on my right side. It even extended a little ways behind me. Because
of that, the recoil of the autocannon was primarily on my right. But I was
fastened to this gun with metal straps and the crossbar and of course my hands.
What happened
was, I got hurled about two feet into the air, I spun 180 degrees, and I flew
about five feet backwards.
When I landed,
I was face down with the gun under me and my arms still holding onto it. I had
been turned in such a perfectly-opposite direction that my knees bent and my
feet were sticking up in the air.
It took me a
few seconds to realize where I was and what happened. I had never moved that
fast in my life.
The problem was
I couldn’t get up. I was lying on top of my arms which were pinned under the
gun. I had a tough time doing a pushup in the best circumstances let alone
being chained to a loaded autocannon.
I wasn’t
entirely sure how vehicle fights went, but I was pretty sure that lying on my chin
facing the wrong direction wasn’t the best way to do it.
I rocked back
and forth to try and get free.
“Come on!” I
yelled.
I managed to pull
my left arm out. With that I was able to push myself onto my side and get to my
knees. I cycled the empty shell out of the gun and stood up. I watched the APC a
moment and saw some smoke but I didn’t know if that was engine exhaust or the
machine gun gunpowder or what.
I reloaded
another armor piercing round and took some time to adjust the straps on the
autocannon, which had become somewhat twisted. I was afraid if I fired again
they might strangle me.
But the APC was
silent.
Was that it?
I backed away
from the corporate vehicle, keeping the autocannon at the ready. When I got far
enough away, I turned and hurried as best I could from the scene.
I didn’t know
if I had won or they were all too busy laughing to continue
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