Thread: Run and Hide Again (A MGE story ft. Razgriz and Umbrale)

Jackson just watched as she took to the heavens, the Harpy Amelia, circling once before vanishing in the blink of an eye. He let out a heavy breath, a hand coming to his chest, feeling his heart race from the surge now that she was gone he then looked down at his hand, seeing it shake from anxiety. That was way too close, he thought to himself thankfully, it still seemed to be light enough out to where he could move if needed to. A sudden pain then overtook him, forcing him to double over as he had a slight coughing fit, the datapad dropping from his grip and clattering on the hard floor. His hand came up to cover his mouth, feeling a wet warm lightly coat his fingers pulling it away, he saw blood traces mixed with the phlegm. Shit. He knew his extreme survival for all these years was taking a toll on his body hell, even he was surprised he'd lasted as long as he did. The bloody hand clenched into a fist before he slammed it in frustration on the floor damn it all, he couldn't stop now. 'Stand up, you pussy...Stand. UP!' Jackson yelled at himself mentally, willing his body back to his own two feet. He wouldn't fall here, he couldn't. Even if it meant he had to leave supplies behind, he had to move. With that in mind, he jumped into his armor, his eyes overlooking the massive supply of ammo and rations he was leaving behind before slipping on his helmet. The plates on the front seemed to burst to life, the four 'eyes' of the faceguard being cameras that fed his viewscreen the data it needed. To the north was another town a fair ways away and unfortunately lacking in nearby raid-able military installations, if the map he had was anything to go by. But it was his next best bet. Jackson's heavy armored form crashed through the forest, the long day starting to end as the sky faded to the evening colors of purple, neon blue and yellow. There was still daylight left, but most of the diurnal species would be hunkering down for the night. He never knew why it changed the way it did, but that was inconsequential to him. Even though the Harpy told him there were Wolves in the forests, staying where he was only invited disaster. It was a somewhat calculated risk. His pack thumped a little as the mechanized battle armor trudged through the brush, easily knocking aside small shrubs and branches, the viewfinder auto-adjusting to infra-red detection as the ambient light died down. It didn't have much of an effective range, but it was enough to where he would hopefully be able to see threats incoming. His tired eyes checked every corner, his finger almost squeezing the trigger of his rifle far too many times damn it, his whole body felt wired, twitchy. 'Get a grip, Whitelock this ain't your first rodeo. By the time night falls, you should be in Tria...Then you can loot another room and sleep in a bed again.' he tried to tell himself, but his body simply wouldn't listen. And it was because of this he forced himself to pause, back against a solid tree that he took deep, steady breaths. A few minutes of this, and he felt a little better. Not one hundred percent, nowhere close, but definitely less agitated. 'OK...Let's keep 'er going' the soldier steeled himself, starting his pace back up once more.