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The second drone took the place of the first and I opened fire again, shooting wildly this time, knowing the drone will have automatically learned from the mistakes of its fallen comrade.
That was what made defeating them so difficult.
The drone bucked and weaved.
I fired another volley and the drone unleashed its own sporadic gunfire.
My eyes bulged and I threw myself to the floor.
I took aim as the drone passed into view, its underside glowing bright and glaring.
I fired and didn’t notice if my bolt struck it or not.
I couldn’t take the risk its shot might hit me.
I was rewarded with the broken buzz of the drone as it fell to the stairs.
The guards hustled up to the doorframe and took position on either side.
I couldn’t hope to defeat them all.
They would pin me down and wait for their reinforcements to join them.
And that would be the end of me.
I had one choice.
And when you think about it, having a choice of one isn’t really a choice at all.
I ran across the open space and threw myself out the window.
I didn’t have time to slow my descent or hope for a soft landing.
Three streaks of plasma scorched the air and zipped past me.
One came so close I heard it crackle before screeching into the distance.
I hit the ground hard and entered a roll.
My landing was rough and I felt my shoulder dislocate.
I came up onto my feet and clutched my arm to my side.
I’d lost my grip on my rifle and couldn’t see it through the haze of sand kicked up by my fall.
I became aware of a dull whirring sound.
The front cone of the vehicle was turning, speeding up fast.
Draw and his men would soon be out of here, digging up the earth and disappearing down a tunnel of its own making.
There would be no chance of the shuttlecraft taking off then, especially if they left the hatch open the way it now was.
I bolted across the open space, clutching my arm close, and ran for the open hatch.
A pair of prison guards opened fire.
Their aim was off.
