Who Needs Saving?

Reinhardt's armor clanked with each step as we darted from car to car. Letting out a sigh, I turned to see him crouching down and trying to sneak, but to no avail. I actually wonder how I'm only just now noticing and how we haven't been discovered yet.

In fact, I wondered how there weren't any omnics here at all. The Lincoln Tunnels were widely known in New York, and for the omnics to not be patrolling them along with the bridge was suspicious. 

Nevertheless, here we were, traveling under the Hudson River basically uncontested. Even if the omnics knew where we were, there was little we could do to get the estimated 300 people back in time for extraction while also trying to outmaneuver them. 

"The exits coming up." A soldier announces quietly to the others, and I start to get tense. This is the perfect place to get ambushed if there was one. 

We couldn't risk all leaving at once, or we'll fall victim to their ambush if there was one. We needed someone to scout out first to see if the coast was clear for the rest of us to proceed.

With the second in command, Fisher, no longer with us, unofficially, I have been calling the shots as Reinhardt isn't the best to be doing such. Therefore, if anything goes wrong, it would be me to answer for it. 

Knowing this, along with recent events, doesn't help my anxiety right now. I was doing all I could to keep the doubt from plaguing my mind as well. Now was not the time to second guess any actions. 

I hold my hand up and the unit stops. 

"What's wrong?" A soldier asks.

"The omnics could be waiting to ambush us once we leave, it's better to send out someone to scout to see it's clear." I explain to them.

The group goes quiet as they process what was said, and a thought crosses my mind. 'I have a shield, why don't I go?'

"Wait, it should be me, actually." I stop anyone from volunteering. Worry goes through the group as they fear I'm pulling a Fisher. 

"No, let one of us go, if we lose you too, we're basically stranded here." A soldier protests.

I shake my head. "I have a shield and can heal. Plus, I can map out the way for us to proceed anyway." I reassure them.

They let out a breath as they realize that I'm right. Taking a deep breath of my own, I proceed past the ruined hovercars and peek out of the tunnel.

The bright sun momentarily blinds me as my eyes refocus, and I realize my blunder as I click my headpiece over my head.

First, I scan the nearby buildings for any signs of movements, as I still am unable to scan for any omnics as yet. As far as I could tell, the Bastion units were made from differing materials, so collecting a sample from a fallen omnic would be futile.

Seeing there were only birds visible on the rooftops, I come out of the tunnel with my shield ready for any unwanted surprises. I climb the overpass nearby to look to see if any of the patrols on the bridge were waiting for us. Satisfied that there weren't any, I wait a bit more in case anything changed before heading back into the tunnels and signaling that the coast was clear.

Strangely, as we carefully ducked from building to building, we didn't run into any omnics patrolling in this area. But we were still cautious, so it took us nearly an hour until the first signs of a huge black skyscraper that stood out from its surrounding buildings. 

Hurrying inside, it was easy to notice that the once lavish interiors were just shadows of their former selves. What was bright and shiny is now dusty and gloomy. Each store was thoroughly looted, as even the mannequins were gone. 

Trying to find the survivors, if there were any, was, as the wise Shikamaru would say, 'Such a drag'. The best way would be to separate what men we had left into teams to search this enormous building.

Just as I turn to relay this to the men, a low whistle catches my attention. Scanning around, I spy a police man on the top of the escalator, waving us over.

While the men stay behind to ensure we're not getting flanked, me and Reinhardt head over to him. The guy whispers to us in a hushed tone with a look of relief on his face.

"Thank god, help has finally arrived. I was beginning to think we were lost." He tells us.

"How many is we?" I ask.

"Around 250 of us. Used to be a little more than 300, but after the first group left, others left, and we haven't heard from them since." He explains.

Before I can respond, a loud crash comes from the floor under us. Rushing to investigate, we see a wave of Bastions marching into the building.

"Omnics! They must have been following us." A nearby soldier says.

"Gather the survivors, we'll hold them here while you prepare to leave. We have about 5 hours to make it out of the city in time for extraction." I say while turning to the policeman.

Instead of worry being on his face, a smile is there. "Don't worry about us, boy. This isn't our first rodeo."

As he says this, people just suddenly appear out from behind pillars or even from the floor panels. They all have a 'Make America Great Again' hat and assault rifles. The most distinctive survivor was shirtless with what looked like a buffalo hat complete with horns on and an American flag painted on his face. 

They shuffle past the surprised soldiers and begin firing on the Bastions from their high ground on the escalator. The Bastions don't stand a chance, as they're all but wiped out all the way back to the door.

As I gaze on the corpses of the Bastions in the lobby room, I can't help but shake my head in disbelief. Although, I should have actually expected this from people who supported the only man to find a way to serve 4 terms as President. Trump supporters truly are a different breed of people. 

The policeman taps me on the shoulder, bringing me out of my momentary stupor.

"So, where's the extraction?" He asks as all the survivors eyes fall on me.

"15 miles outside the northwest of the city. At a tiny building where others are waiting. We have around 5 hours before we risk getting left."

No sooner do those words leave my mouth do the survivors get serious. The one who is shirtless and wearing the buffalo horns steps forward, cocking his rifle.

"Then what are we waiting for?" He asks as the surround survivors raise their weapons in the air and cheering at his words. 

As they continued their cheers down the lobby and over the corpses of the Bastions, they still didn't stop, even when they made it outside.

I began to kind of feel sorry for any omnics we were about to encounter.