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Mark shuddered slightly, his journey ended on an odd amount of steps,
"Bad omen." he thought to himself as he climbed into the back of the van...
Mark's muscles ached from this adventure already, still suffering from withdrawals of anti-fatigue the man closed his eyes for the briefest of moments to ponder his luck.
His mind flashed images of fellow officers with their masks on, then two faces came to greet him. Marina and Morgan. The only thing he'd consider a family out here after the pact they made days before the escape. The promise made to make it to the house of their dreams, a lonely and quiet home with endless water from a flowing waterfall. Fields full of flowers and sage. It fills him with joy, all the troubles he's dealing with at the moment are worth the pain. The reward is everything.
Mark leaned out the window of the get away vehicle, his PDW aims with about as much accuracy as one can manage, the fighter unleashed a loose volley of rounds into the transhuman infront of them. "Go! Go! Get your heads down!" The man bellowed out as return pulse fire tore through the cabin of the van... No one died...a good sign.
Mark thought back to his days in City 111, his service in FLUX and the things he's done, both the good and the awful. He gazed out the window into the ever expansive desert with a tinge of sadness. Was he redeemable? Was this goal he made obtainable? He stressed over this every single night. He smiled at the civilians he once only until recently would have or even had, beaten to a bloody pulp if the bosses demanded it of him.
Mark watched as a razor train came barreling towards the four men in the van. His eyes widen, breath quickened. 'Was this it?' He wondered before Karol jerked the wheel hard left and avoided the collision. "Hey, no one died... good sign. Perhaps our omen wasn't as bad as I thought."
Kairos, Lucas, James, Jamie and even Sam popped into his mind. Their faces showing a wide range of emotions. With Kairos he remembers her smile and what he felt was a genuine thankful attitude that she had after he had removed the tracker. Lucas and James. He saw two men who although were rough around the edges smiled regardless, clearly willing to train and put the effort in for the goals the group has recently decided. Jamie, the newest of interactions but by no means the least. He found her honesty refreshing and sweet. He was already planning up ways to teach her and Kairos more about Xenian biology. A small few sketches of Antlions, Headcrabs, and even the Charger that recently showed up to attack Rafael were drawn.
His tired eyes spotted the hint of movement to their flanks before his most honest fears came to fruition. From the left came a charging Hunter, the right, its twin with weapons firing. He screamed out into his radio as everyone bailed from the car. "HUNTERS!" the proud fighter crawled several feet away before spinning over to engage the enemy. Witnessing Karol be impaled and thrown like a ragdoll seconds after the attack. His heart pounded in terror, his hands and feet shook in fear. He knew he had to fight, if he didn't everyone around him was sure to die.
Morgan and Marina were special to him though. New found friends turned family in his eyes. Marina had this upbeat attitude about herself that the man would never admit he was jealous of. Her smile calmed him as did her words. Morgan, oh Morgan. Rude, bitchy, quite the pain in the ass. He cared for her like the sister he lost at the start of the war. He realized only know in this moment of peaceful relaxation that he never gave them much background to himself, nor did he ask any of them. He was going to correct that. A few questions came to mind, surviving family? Loved ones? Goals and dreams? He'd be there to help them achieve it no matter the cost. They were the ones who saved him from becoming transhuman after all. He'd die for them.
He hears people over the radio asking where they were, he can't recall clearly as terror filled his very soul. "MORGAN, MARINA! THE PACT! WHERE WE MADE OUR PACT!" is all he could scream out before continuing the fight. One hunter badly injured fled, the second appeared to seal their fate. Andrei and Mark, the two ex cops faced down the demon as Karol was aided by the unknown man in the van before. Mark lined up his shot and prepared for the fight only for Andrei to accidently step infront of him. "Move!" he shouts in his head.
The rest of the camp below? He couldn't say he felt this way for all of them but he had no intention on letting them die in vain. Mark took it upon himself to spend hours of his time filling makeshift sand bags and barricades to prep for a OTF and OSF assault. He knew it was nothing more than a minute distraction for the enemy. Yet, perhaps it could by someone, anyone a few precious seconds to flee.
The moment Andrei cleared Mark's cone of fire it was already to late. The Hunter slammed into his body at full force, the impact crushing his visor and breaking his jaw. Blood filled the mask and blinded him, the weapon he was prepared to use fell limply from his hands. Comrades aimed to save him, gunfire erupted into the exposed back of the Hunter. The beast only turned to toss Mark into the waiting hands of another. The second Hunter impaled Mark with its powerful leg and slammed him into the ground. The second impact broke three of his ribs and severed the nerves to his legs. Breaking his visor and face more. The pain was not over, his leg was tore clean from its socket and the only thing he could hear was the cruel laughter of the synthetic. The man screamed at the top of his lungs in pain, his consciousness rapidly faded as he was then thrown several dozen yards back. Bouncing off the scorching desert road like a rock on the surface of a lake. The seconds felt like years to the man as his body went cold. He tried to cry out but nothing escaped his mangled form. In his final dying seconds he thought of the two women who he bonded with, gave a short prayer to the spirts above. Then, and only then he passed on to the other side, alone, scared, and ultimately thankful for the bonds he made.
Mark Schoenfeld.
Rogue Unit.
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