Hey everybody, here’s part 6 of Snow Can Kill!
But first, I’m still looking for artists to work on this, and other series. So if you think you’ve got what it takes, send me a message! As always, here’s a list of previous chapters in case you’re lost!
Snow Can Kill Part 6
Dimitri whirled around, reaching for the revolver at his hip. His numb fingers fumbled with the catch on his holster. At any moment, he expected to hear the crack of a pistol or the rattle of a submachinegun, but all he heard was a groan. He turned, and saw that a hatch on the top of the Roxolan lay open. Clinging to the open door was a man with his back to Dimitri. The man was struggling to pull himself up with just his left arm, the right one being a mangled mess. Dimitri finally freed his side arm and aimed it at the man. He was only a few yards away at most. With an audible click he pulled back the hammer. The other man froze.
“Dimitri? What’s happening?” Dimitri ignored Yanin’s question. The Roxolani looked over his shoulder at Dimitri. His eyes flitted back and forth between Dimitri’s face and the gun in his hand.
The Roxolani was a young man, with dark brown hair and clear, green eyes. His face had been aged by a hard life of fighting for survival. Dimitri knew the look. He saw it every day in the mirror. Dimitri stood up, swaying slightly from the force of the blizzard.
“Pull yourself out of there, and keep your hands where I can see them.” He said.
The Roxolani hesitated, before a nervous smile appeared on his face. “Okay, friend. I understand. Just give me a second here. Let’s take it easy.” He struggled to pull himself up over the lip of the hatch, keeping his injured arm tucked against his body. Dimitri didn’t move to help him. The gun remained trained on his head.
“Hey! Dimitri! What’s going on up there?!” Yanin asked impatiently. Dimitri leaned over to talk through the hatch without taking his eyes off the enemy pilot.
“I got a survivor. Enemy crew. He looks pretty messed up.”
“I’m pretty messed up.”
“I know, let me get him tied up, and then we’ll get you out of there.”
Yanin pouted. “Helping the enemy before your only friend? Traitor.”
“Shut up.” Dimitri began to close the hatch to keep out the snow. “And don’t die,” he added. On the other mech, the Roxolani was laying on his back, breathing heavily. Dimitri was able to get a good look at the wound on his arm. The man had tied a tourniquet just above the elbow. From the elbow down to the wrist his arm had been flayed open, with jagged points of bone poking out of the glistening red meat. The chainsaw must have just grazed him. Dimitri jumped over to the Roxolan, keeping the hatch in between himself and the other man. “Hey. You the only one?” he asked, eying the open hatch warily.
The Roxolani nodded weakly. “Dieter, my driver, he was directly in the path of your saw. Turned him into stew meat.” The Roxolani coughed and grimaced. “I-I think I have a bruised rib.”
“Well, that’s just too bad. You’re going to have to sit tight for a little bit. You hurt my friend pretty bad too.” Dimitri jumped back to Yanin’s mech. Leaning over the edge, he looked down the machine’s steep back. Fastened to the rear of Yanin’s mech were all the tools and equipment an enterprising tankman could hope for. Shovels, rope, toolkit, spare parts; you named it, it was clamped on here somewhere. Retrieving the tools and rope, Dimitri tied up the Roxolani. Dimitri tried his best not to jostle the man’s arm, but he didn’t do him any favors either. He was the enemy after all. Then he set to work removing the pincer from Yanin’s ride. He climbed down the Roxolan mech’s arm until he reached the pincer. He pulled out an acetylene torch and began to cut through the blades just short of where they entered the mech. He leaned close to the torso of Yanin’s ride. “Yanin? You hear me?” He had to shout to be heard. The snowstorm was getting worse.
“Yes. Is that you, God?” Came the muffled response.
“Hilarious. I’m going to pull the pincers out now. I need you to put pressure on your wounds as soon as I do, okay?
“You have your medkit in there?”
“Use the alcohol to sterilize and then apply a bandage.”
Dimitri resisted the urge to shout profanities . He headbutted the body of the mech in front of him.
“Sorry, thought it would do more good in my body than on it.”
“Alright, fine. No sterilizing. Just get ready to patch yourself up. I’ll lift you up once I’ve got these things out of you.”
“Ready when you are.” He definitely didn’t sound ready to Dimitri, but they were running out of time. He grasped one of the pincers, took a deep breath, and pulled.