Read Online Doomsday Warrior 04 - Bloody America by Ryder Stacy - Free Book Online Page A

contact with the fleet at the same instant. The grenade detonated just yards ahead of the forward copter, flaming grenade fragments ripping into the fifty-foot craft. A roar of metal turning to liquid and flesh to bloody mud screamed down the slope, sending rocks and pieces of glowing shrapnel in every direction. The chopper burst into a fireball as its munitions section detonated with the force of two tons of high explosive. The fireball reached out in all directions, an expanding circle of fire and metal as sharp as razors. The choppers immediately to the right and left of the leader took bad hits, both bursting into flame, then veering wildly down from the sky.
    “Run!” Rockson screamed out above the thundering maelstrom above. Archer heard him and, after quickly slipping another arrow into its firing groove, took off after the Doomsday Warrior. The two freefighters catapulted down the rock-strewn hill toward the sheltering woods below. There were only yards to go. A hail of machine-gun slugs ripped into the dirt just ahead of them, warning the two to stop or die. Rock pulled the pin from another grenade and used his forward motion to suddenly spin and, without looking, fling the sizzling pineapple backward, instantly taking off again. The pilot of the closest chopper saw the motion and twisted the metal bird to the right and up, trying to dodge the explosion. The grenade flew up just below the belly of the soaring Red chopper and went off. The brunt of the blast lifted straight up and into the bottom of the helio severing the fuel line. The MS-20, all ten tons of it, went up in an explosive puff of smoke, almost vaporizing the craft, so intense was the heat of the detonation. The choppers behind it flew forward, now under command of Captain Voshkov, having taken over from the lately deceased Wilenski who had died in the first explosion, Wilenski’s craft just a pile of twisted metal wreckage near the top of the slope.
    Rockson and the barn door of a man Archer hit the edge of the woods and tore into the shadows and leafy covering of the trees. We should have a chance in here, Rock thought as he and Archer zipped between the dark trees, ducking their heads beneath low branches. Rock couldn’t help but smile even in the midst of fleeing the Reds. They had already taken out nearly a quarter of the fleet, and the Russians hadn’t bothered to stop and check out the cave. His plan appeared to be working. Small forest creatures flew off around them, squealing and hiding in the thick twisted weeds of the forest as the two Americans ran as fast as their legs could carry them. The further they got from Kim and the president the better. Overhead they heard the loud whir of the copter engines. The Reds weren’t about to give up so easily on this one.
    Explosions went off about fifty yards behind them. Sounded like the crews were tossing grenades, just dropping them straight down as battleships of old would drop their explosive canisters to rouse hidden submarines. Rockson heard a loud thud to his right. Archer had caught a branch right in the face as he had turned to catch sight of the explosion lighting up the woods behind them. Rock stopped and reached a hand down for the immense man in his oversized fatigues that were always ripping at the seams. Archer opened his eyes and saw Rockson looking down. He instantly realized how stupid he looked and smiled.
    “Come on big fellow,” the Doomsday Warrior said, helping the freefighter to his feet. “It happens to the best of us.” The two of them once again hit cruising speed into the lengthening shadows as the sun began to fall lazily from the ocean-blue sky. Just a little more. Just let them not find us for another five minutes and we’ll be free. Rock was sure of it. The thick trees of the surrounding mountains would make a perfect getaway for them. Ahead was a clearing, lit up with golden light from the warm rays of old Sol. It looked all right. Rockson stopped at the edge