Editor’s Note: It’s a long summer. I’ve got some open spots in the countdown schedule. And with Les Miles stealing the national championship trophy a few months ago, I figured, sure, why not some fanfic? After all, we’re “just a blog.”
Thanks for reading RCT! - M
Les Miles sat down on a burned out car and set his VX 2500 Plasma Rifle aside. He took a deep breath and out of habit scanned the horizon for HKs. The war had been tough, and lately, seemed hopeless. The machines had fought off the brief successes of the resistance. Everyone in Camp 23 had been growing more and more frustrated by the day. Les had even heard some talk of surrender to the machines.
He had his doubts sometimes too. He tried to keep a brave face but in private he couldn’t stop the tears. His grandmother often told him of a time before the war - a time where people could live freely and without fear.
Les shook his head and stood back up. He couldn’t afford to spend time childishly daydreaming. War is all he had ever known. He picked up his rifle and started to head back to the base.
He turned the corner when all of a sudden his phazar started wildly beeping. He glanced at the tiny device on his wrist.
“Three terminators,” he muttered, “great.”
Without wasting a second, Les raced to a nearby structure. It was mostly wreckage now but it would have to be good enough to hide him from the approaching machines.
The machines came into view. They appeared to be lifelike. He held his breath and waited for them to pass. The machines scanned the building. Les didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t dare breathe in their direction.
They had started to turn away and continue their patrol when Les’s phazar began to beep wildly again. The machines spun around and opened fire. Les wasted no time. In quick succession he blasted the nearest terminator with two quick bursts from his weapon. The machine fell to the ground. He rolled down a short staircase, popped back up and quickly took down another one of the machines.
The third machine stopped firing his weapon. Instead, he tossed a grenade in Les’s direction. With deadly precision, it landed at his feet. Les bent his knees and jumped back as far as he could. He soared into the air just as the grenade went off. The ceiling of the building came crashing down on him. Everything went black.
To be continued...