The 4D Earth War

I felt like Don Quixote, in a maze of ancient structures against the aftermath of a war. Set apart by distances of fifty to a hundred meters, by fields gone to weed and gardens of the wild, each structure represented an invariable obstacle, as I managed my way thru the land. I was quick to stop in the cover of trees in the shade, reminding myself that I could be a sitting duck in the open lite of day. Many of the structures were demolished, yet still presented possible unknown cover for rebels.

  There was no way around it; it was an unavoidable maze and a dangerous obstacle course. Without the invisible phase, the course I’d been thru was nothing compared to what I was up against now. I chose a course northeast, because there was more trees and open land. I hiked thru sparsely scattered clumps of weed, overgrown fields of weed, and beneath the shade of trees.

  There was an old riverside marina to the left and an old country-style, roadside tavern a hundred meters to the right. There was plenty of cover in trees, brush, and an occasional piece of burnt out junk. Beat down, torn apart, rusty metal skeletons of the factory driven man, scattered sparsely about and overgrown with weeds, were a constant reminder of the after math of destruction.

  I moved on, attempting to keep up the pace regardless of my wounded condition. The twisted ankle objected frequently and suggested we find a nice park bench to take a rest. But it was only about three or four kilometers to the security of the campus and the comfort of friends. Doubtless, if any rebels got a hold on me, there’d be some kind of price on my head, and I didn’t like to think of what might be done to such heads. The gun was secure at my side, and ready to lend a fiery hand just in case of such encounters.

  As I walked cautiously through the woodland edge, I appeared to be camouflaged by the brush and trees. Yet quite suddenly, there was a shot from the distance and I was hit in the shoulder. The bullet deflected off the armor and knocked me to the left. The weight of my body went on the good ankle and I managed to regain balance.

  I quickly drew the ray-gun and ran to the cover of a burnt-out, rusty wreck. The shot had come from somewhere around the roadside tavern, about seventy meters to the south, across an open field of weeds. The armor of the suit could stop most low-caliber projectiles, but if they decided to use a bomb, I might not be so lucky. I put the helmet on and used the remote viewer to survey the area about the old tavern. As I peaked over the edge of the wreck and spied into the distance, another shot hit the metal just inches away.

  I quickly deduced the angle at which the projectile had been shot from, put the gun in the fourth setting at the max, and fired across the field to the sniper-station. The thin, red ray blasted the side of the tavern around a second-level window. I let it go for a few seconds and curved it up across the window. It sliced thru the structure at a jagged angle and the window’s frame collapsed.

  I spied closely at the area as the gun cooled. Something moved inside the room, and it seemed like the right thing to do. I decided to move also and ran for the trees about 40 meters away northeast. I was fired on again as I ran, but they missed and I reached the trees. I ran through the trees to the other side and sited another structure about 100 meters to the east, across a field of wildflowers and weeds.

  There was an old paved road heading north, before the field just outside the trees.  It was full of potholes, cracks, and clumps of weed, but it wasn’t half as thick as the field. I moved quickly northward along the old road, with a wary eye on the structure, and eyes on the back of my helmet. The structure appeared vacant, and I moved on without any trouble from it.

  My right ankle caused a bit of a limp as it avoided potholes and reminded me about that park bench again, as if a good rest was part of the deal for getting me as far as it already had. As a consolation upon my security, I stopped to look back southwest; along the road behind me every so often, thinking at any moment a bullet could go buzzing by my head.

  It was a good precaution and it paid off. About the fifth time I stopped to look back, I sited a rebel on my tail in pursuit, just 50 meters away. I cursed and dove into the trees. The rebel fired as I dove, and I was hit in the side. The armor deflected the bullet, but my ankle gave under the pressure and I went down to the ground.

  I crouched behind a tree, sited down the road, and fired through the trees. I sliced the ray about and drew a little ‘x’ with one closed loop. It caught the rebel in the shoulder as he ducked for the trees. He yelped in pain as the ray ripped through his shoulder, dropped the gun and fell back onto his side. I quickly ran as the rebel dealt with the pain, away northward. The road curved right around the field, as I hoped it would. Unfortunately, the trees thinned out and provided less cover.

  60 meters ahead was more thick woodland on the right side of the road. To the north was yet another structure, about 100 meters away. As I followed the road, I spied the structure across another field of weeds. It appeared to be an old farmhouse, surrounded by thick trees on all sides, and fence. The upper-level and the peak of the roof were barely seen between the peaks of the trees.

  I kept a wary eye on it as I moved steadily northeast. I stopped once before reaching the woodland, and saw no one tailing me. Once into ducking cover of the woodland, I eased into a lower gear and walked steadily for 100 meters. The structure was left behind and I reached the edge of the woodland and a crossroad.

  The closest structure was 100 meters southeast across a field at the top of a hill. There was an open field and brush ahead, but no close structures where rebels could hide. The road ahead curved northeast into a hilly woodland about 100 meters away. I crouched down, rubbed the sore ankle shortly, and spied the woodland ahead. After a minute, I moved on across the old road.

  Suddenly, a rebel on a trail bike burst out of the woods down the road south, and tried to run me down. I was taken completely by surprise and knocked sideways to the ground. The gun went flying from my hands. The biker stopped, turned about, and closed in for the kill. He saw the gun and tried to cut me off as I jumped for it. I got to it and grabbed it, but he rammed me down and ran right over my ribs. As he did so, he tried to grab the gun.

  Apparently, he was aware of the value of such a weapon, and intended to steal it. I grabbed his hand and pulled him off the bike, as it went over me. The bike went crashing into the weeds as I suppressed the pain in my ribs and got a leg under the guy. Then I kicked and he went flying backward against the side of the road.

  He pulled out a gun and aimed, but I had the jump on him and shot the ray just before he squeezed a shot off. The ray hit him in the side of the head and he fell back, as blood oozed from his face and his arm dropped as he shot. The bullet glanced off the armor of my leg with barely a graze, as he fell dead.

  I regained my feet, saw the bike in the weeds, and realized I had a quick way home now. Minutes later, I was speeding along the cracked and weedy road, through the hilly woodlands at forty kph. I speeded over the hills and sited the campus less than a kilometer away, across a stretch of fields. I surveyed the area, saw nothing, and decided to make a run for it. As I did so, it started to rain. By the time I reached the edge of the campus, it was coming down hard.
 

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