RM Vol 3: For a World without Boundary – Chapter 45-8: Osprey down! (Part 8)

RM Vol 3: For a World without Boundary – Chapter 45-8: Osprey down! (Part 8)

There are only two reasons why a soldier would march to their death. One is that they voluntarily venture out to die, while the second is that they have no other choice but to do so. The line is blurred between the former and the latter more often than not, however. When the stake is high, one doesn't have the time to wonder about the reasoning for their sacrifice. The best they can do is to bury the fear and hesitation six feet underground while trying their very best to make their death at least worth a damn in the grand scheme of things. To some, that's easier said than done, and they wouldn't be wrong thinking like that. A soldier can hardly pick the place for him to die and how he would be sent off. Such is the meaning of a soldier's life, swimming the river of fate, and struggling against it when the needs arise. But in some cases, when the odds are stacked tall enough in their favor, a soldier may as well be the scriptwriter of their own demise.

Randall has always fantasized about going out in a blaze of glory on the battlefield. Don't get him wrong, while he may fancy an exhilarating battle or an interesting hunt, it doesn't mean that Randall seeks death, he still pretty much prefers to be among the living. Randall only thoughts that if he's ever to be KIA, it better damn be on his own terms. And from what's happened so far, Randall's thought may as well become reality in his opinion. A desperate last stand, the loss of a dear comrade, being encircled with no way to run, no munition worth a damn, a trap that they can't use due to enemy interference... It sounds like a good place to end the tale of Randall Shughart.

Randall gives a toothy grin as his forms break through the smoke cloud of his own creation. The cloud did its magic, preventing Randall from being sniped prematurely by the Archers outside. That said, it was a gamble and a half. Just because the enemy couldn't see him, didn't mean that a lucky bolt wouldn't turn him into a shish kebab. Randall takes comfort in the fact that maybe, just maybe, the Mother Goddess is giving him her blessing and protection as his last rite. With smoke still coating his form, and every muscle of his lower half strained to propel himself like a cannonball, Randall aims his rifle and fire. The one bullet he sends out manages to hit squarely on the chest of an Archer zombie, sending it tumbling backward with its bow dropped haphazardly. It's a clean shot while running, but it won't be a thing Randall can pull off a second time on such notice. Rather than running out in the open, Randall heads for the crashed Osprey while being mindful of any threat that may be near him. Hell, he already spots three behind him.

Though the three melee zombies have been approaching the garage that Randall was in, they swiftly pivot on their feet and chase Randall instead. Knowing that it's better to cut off his tails (get it, tails?) before dealing with the rest of the Archers, Randall jumps forth to the Osprey for cover all the while turning 180 degrees midair. Randall slams into the plating of Osprey's fuselage, not that painful in his honest opinion, and it also gives him the angle to engage the three targets chasing him. As they're making a beeline towards Randall, the wolfkin Pathfinder can get easy kills on them all by expending the rest of his magazine on semi-auto. Immediately after taking care of his pursuers, Randall pulls the charging handle of his rifle back, operates the magazine lever to discard the spent magazine, grabs his second to last G1 mag to feed it to the gun, and then slaps the charging handle to let it slide home. The reload takes three seconds in total, but during that time, the Archer zombies have already taken note of Randall and are pulling on their bows, aiming toward the wolfkin.

Unwilling to be pincushioned, Randall pops out with his G1 flicks to full-auto and just holds down the trigger. Like a coughing woodpecker, the G1 unleashes a slew of 8mm Mausers at a rhythmic pace. It's a medium, controlled burst, but thanks to Randall's marksmanship and the fact that he swings the muzzle to cut down the line of Archers at once, those that pose long-range threats to the guys at the garage are downed. Of course, it doesn't mean that the Archers are deader than dead, they may just be incapacitated for the moment. But it's a chance nonetheless, to let Albrecht and Carl reposition themselves. And an opportunity for Randall to grab all the attention onto himself. Running out of cover may be a bad idea when he's surrounded, but hiding is not the point here, isn't it?

"You want a piece of me you white ass cunts?! Then come and get it!" Randall snarled while raising his rifle to shoot at multiple targets in front of him. Whether it's a Praetorian raising a scythe, a Razor Claw trying to turn him into minced meat, or an Archer trying to retaliate despite her injury... All of them receive 8mm leads for their trouble. "Die! Die! Die! You pieces of shit!" Randall taunted, partly because it's required for him to do so, partly because of his feelings about Gordy's sacrifice.

Well, with his knife, of course. Though Randall must complain that if only he had been born a mana-attuned individual like those mages. Things could have been much simpler.

Rather than closing the distance which he knows he can't, Randall chooses to do the stupid thing and throw the knife right at the Lich's head. The knife soars, but with it being thrown by his non-dominant arm, the knife is dodged by the Lich, but not before leaving behind a nasty cut on her left cheek.

The Lich still herself at the audacity of this being in front of her. Randall has been an annoyance, alongside his group of survivors, but now? They've become something that the Lich must stamp out with absolute firepower. It would seem that Randall has somehow managed to piss off a zombie. The wolfkin knows that well, hence he has been sporting an infuriating smirk ever since the knife throw. Right now, the wolfkin is uncaring towards the charged-up laser coffins. They has done everything they could, both Gordy and himself. Now, it's time for Carl and Albrecht to finish the rest.

And they sure as Hell live up to expectation.

Randall's short-range radio comes to life for the brieftest of moments, with Carl saying. "We have the shot, Randall. Godspeed."

Randall smirks grow wider at that, flipping the bird toward the menacing Lich, he taunts. "Yippee Ki-Yay, motherfucker!" Right before a fireball impacts the Osprey, the airframe sparks for a second before right then and there, a localize Hell is born.

The flash of bright light and flame soon engulf both Randall and the Lich.

Sergeant First Class Randall Shughart. Status - KIA