 |
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
Concept Art
Halo Bulletins
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
ARG Forum
Links
Admin
Submissions
Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
A Series of Wierd Events - Sequel, Part Six [STERFRYE]
Posted By: Hunter_Killer<jlp8118@sbcglobal.net>
Date: 26 July 2004, 7:12 PM
Read/Post Comments
|
Slayer Boi
i read it. kool!
i never get mentioned. i can't even be put in as cannon fodder, let alone 1 of the main characters ;(
Oh well, damn
Gr8 story man
Slayer Boi commenting on "A Series of Weird Events - Part Five [STERFRYE]
"Holy crap!" I yelled as Simpsonsrule bore down on me in the Warthog. The steering wheel was bouncing in the air behind due to the fact that he had accidentally lopped it off with his (Now Flood) body's claw.
I dove to the right after Agent Shade, and Simpsons passed so close, I was actually splattered with the blood soaked ground. Simpsons slammed on the brakes and quickly ground to a halt twenty feet away.
"You!" I screamed. "Out of the 'Hog! I'm driving!"
"How?" Simpsons shot back. "The steering wheel's gone!"
I yelled at him again and he switched over to the passenger's seat with an exasperated look on his convoluted face. Shade climbed onto the turret in the back, and cycled the receiver. I walked Sergeant Stacker's body (I was in it, you know) over and hopped into the driver's seat. Shade didn't argue. Apparently, nearly getting run over had more of an effect on him than nearly getting blown up.
I was caught by surprise as floating 1's and 0's appeared at the base of the steering wheel column and quickly formed into the shape of the wheel. It solidified with a little placard on it that read:
Courtesy of BOLL Hacking Services Inc. Hacking so that you don't have to! Down at the bottom of the placard, in an angry, handwritten scrawl were the words: "I'm still going to kill you for not telling us that you don't own an XBOX." SIGNED: BOLL
I rolled my eyes, grabbed hold of the wheel and slammed on the gas.
Nothing.
I reached behind the wheel and found what I was looking for: the key. Simpsons had turned it off when he switched over to the passenger side, so I turned it.
Once more, nothing happened. I tried again.
Still nothing.
"What's taking so long?" Shade asked. "I've got a Hunter about ninety yards away and closing fast; hurry it up, man!" I heard the LAGG spin up and begin to fire behind me. I took a quick glance backwards to see that none of the rounds were hitting the Hunter; it was too far away for the chain gun to be accurate.
I gave a frustrated grunt and looked on the dashboard. There was a small plunger that had the word "choke" on it. I pulled on it and held it there for a full three seconds to give the engine plenty of gas.
I turned the key and the engine roared to life; I slammed on the gas pedal. The 'Hog went nowhere. What the heck was with this Jeep? Then the most obvious solution came to mind: it had to be in neutral. I looked at the several sticks that branched off of the steering column. There was only one stick there, and it was unlabeled. I yanked it in several dimensions in a desperate attempt to shift, and the windshield wipers came on. Nope, definitely not the shifter. I looked down and to my right and fully expected to see the shifter there. The only problem was, I expected it to be automatic.
"What idiot designed this thing!?" I screamed. "It's got a bad engine, and manual transmission! What's next? Has it got--" I muttered as I threw the 'Hog into first gear. It lurched forward, suddenly stopped, and stalled. Both Simpsons and my head slammed into the windshield. Shade swore. I looked down at my feet as I rubbed my nose to see that I had been right.
It had a clutch.
I screamed, restarted the jeep, slammed the clutch down, forced it into gear, and then slammed on the pedal once more. It crawled forward at a grand speed of twelve miles an hour, but it would have to do.
By the by, has anyone ever actually noticed how bumpy it is on this level? Even at twelve miles an hour, it felt like we were rocketing along at lightspeed. The Hunter that Shade had mentioned earlier was catching up; it was about seventy yards away when I started the car. Even at twelve miles an hour, that Hunter had closed the gap quickly. We were now only fifty or so away.
Simpsons took a chance, stood halfway up in his seat, lifted his Jackhammer rocket launcher, and fired one rocket. It overshot. This time Simpsons swore, and I silently agreed. I made a successful attempt and shifted straight to third gear; our speed increased to seventy in about four seconds.
Regrettably, I had been looking behind us while driving. I realized my mistake and snapped my head back around...to find the Hunter's twin directly in front of us. It smacked an HBOer wearing Mjolnir mark V armor and Marine down with its shield, I slammed on the brakes.
Unfortunately, as any math major could imagine, several thousand pounds of metal and flesh need several hundred feet to stop. We had about fifty. So I yanked the steering wheel to the right...and the car turned all of two inches. I couldn't believe it.
It didn't have power steering
The Jeep slammed into the Hunter and sent the Covie sprawling for several yards. Our 'Hog ground to a stop. The sudden deceleration caused Shade to accidentally swing the LAAG around and rake the prone Hunter's weak spot (And nuts) with dozens of rounds. It died painfully.
I struggled to restart the Warthog and glanced into the side mirror; it read: Warning: Flaming balls of plasma may be closer than they appear. Unfortunately, the Hunter that had been chasing us had given up and fired its Fuel Rod Gun. There was a flaming ball of plasma heading directly towards us. Also regrettable was the fact that the Marine had had four plasma and frag grenades at his death, which meant we were sitting squarely atop of eight grenades. Also, the fact that CoLd BlooDed had fired two Jackhammers at the dead Hunter (Before it died) meant that those rockets were heading right for us.
And there was no time to get out.
The explosion was ear shattering. From what I can remember, we were launched far above the T&R, along with the dead HBOer, and half of the Hunter's carcass. When I asked CoLd BlooDed later, I found out that our total flight time had surpassed thirty seconds. Sometime during the descent, Simpsons's second rocket fired off. It apparently slammed into the top of the grav-lift just as a bunch of Covies generated. The rocket immediately killed them, and instead of falling like they should have, they got jammed at the spawn point. Only a few more Covies could respawn.
The 'Hog, HBOer and Hunter slammed into the ground like comets and bounced like giant beach balls. My head slammed into the steering wheel and set off the horn, which stuck. The 'Hog flipped in the air and finally came to a rest near the grav-pad, which had stopped dropping Covies.
Everyone was breathing heavily. Simpsons had a dark spot on his chair, and Shade wouldn't let go of the stupid fire button for the LAAG. I was hovering in and out of shock when I heard a voice say, "Apples and cougars..." Slowly, I lowered my head and glanced to my left, out of the Jeep.
The HBOer was somehow still alive. Badly wounded, but still alive.
Wordlessly, I reached over, opened the glove compartment, and found what I had been looking for: a medkit. I grabbed it and began to hop over the side when the airbag suddenly inflated, sent a short, sharp shock to my little, limber loins and sent me flying. I landed two feet away from the guy, so I rolled over and opened the medkit. It contained a total of two items: Pepto-Bismal and Aloe Vera.
I groaned, and in frustration, dumped the contents of the Pepto-Bismal onto the poor guy. The pink liquid hissed, bubbled, disappeared, and the guy immediately got up with full armor.
"How'd you know how to do that?" he asked incredulously.
"Truthfully?" I said. "I didn't."
"Oh." We stared at each other for a moment, and then, "Slayer Boi."
"Sterfrye."
"Who?" I sighed and crawled over to a clump of bushes to administer the Aloe Vera to my butt. Did you know it was possible to get sunburn from grenades exploding less than a yard from you, even if you've got several feet of titanium between you an the explosion?
Believe me, it is.
The Aloe Vera was ice cold, and I had to keep from gasping as I applied the unpleasantly moist cream. Then, just as I was putting the cap back on the bottle, I heard, "Freeze Human!" I looked up and felt the air leave my lungs in disbelief.
Not two inches from my face was a Grunt with a plasma pistol, and I still had my pants down.
|
