A/N: So I've gotten into the mood for more Bullet Witch stories so here's another one. It might go on for a bit longer than I intend but I have a small part of the storyline finished for now, so I wanted to give it some time to see where I'm going. And just as a reminder, the characters Marilyn, Jackson, Butch, Dave etc. (or anyone else that I mention that are not a main part of the Bullet Witch character list) are my own names put with the NPCs. They may play play a part in the game so I figured I might as well add them in the storiess too. Hope you enjoy!

"This is ground control to moving units, does anyone copy?" Marilyn called. Her radio kept close in case anyone replied. However, for the last hour or so it felt like some kind of black out in the communication system. She couldn't get anyone to reply. What was the point in being the communications specialists if there was no one out there answering her? "I repeat, this is ground control to moving units is there anyone out there to copy?" Still nothing.

Sighing, she dropped her head some and ran a hand over her hair. "For the Love of God..." she muttered. With the exception of a small bit of static to answer, the silence was beginning to creep her out. She had made sure to careful barricade herself inside of an abandoned office building, but even then she was beginning to think she was being paranoid with small random noises echoing about. But the protocol was if you became separated from the main group, make sure to be in a safe and secured area. It was secured, and she made extra rounds to make sure it was safe. "Someone answer the damn radio."

"This is Major Tom to ground control, I'm stepping through the door and I'm floating in the most peculiar way..." a voice buzzed over the radio.

She jumped lightly at the odd message before chuckling both at herself for being jumpy and at the voice who sang on the other end.

"-And the stars look very different today."

"Butch, you take every chance, don't you?" she replied.

"Any chance with you baby." he spoke. There was a bit of movement heard in the background of his transmission telling her that he was still somewhere out moving around the city. "Alright so...I may have gotten myself lost out here."

"You mean the whole group split up?" Marilyn questioned.

"Well after that chase from the Geist soldiers and then there was the whole tank thing...yeah..." Butch replied. "Well either that or we're both just retarded and got ourselves lost."

She shook her head and gave a moment before replying. "And it doesn't help that no one else will answer the radio. So where does that put us?"

"With just you and me?"

"Butch...shut up."


Her gunrod easily broke open the thin skull of the Geists soldier.

Its body fell to the floor in a bloody heap of mangled bones as she turned to the next soldier who dared a go. The next Geist soldier ducked when she swung her gunrod, crackling madly as she left herself vulnerable after the heavy swing. The butt of a machinegun knocked it down and some well-placed bullets kept it there. Alicia sighed lightly as she stuck her gun in the ground and wiped the light layer of sweat from her brow. "That was the last one..."

"Man, I need a break," Maxwell chuckled. Sighing, he looked around at the bodies that surrounded them. "So, that gets rid of the soldiers. Where's the tank?"

"It can't be that hard to-" Alicia started before a familiar whistle filled the air. The two barely turned in time before a rocket exploded nearby. The blast sent debris, concrete, vehicles and bodies into the air. Both of them were knocked back and lost in the sudden motion of events.

The groan of the tank was heard before the large vehicle eventually rumbled into view. Dented and rusted with age, the machine slowly rumbled along through the broken street. Occasionally slowing down to push through several piles of debris. The turret grumbled as it was turned left and right in search for any movement from any surviving victims. Coming up with nothing, the turret turned back to the front and the vehicle slowly moved on by.

Maxwell groaned as the pressure of the concrete slab above began to pay toll on his shoulders and back. He couldn't really move his legs that much, but at least one of his arms was free. He could see how far he could get with that. Managing to move some smaller pieces aside, he slowly managed to free his other arm. The air was heavy and almost hot to breathe in. Dust and small pieces of concrete seemed to catch together in his lungs which inspired a few coughing sessions to clear them out.

"Ah man..." he muttered; shouldering the large concrete slab off of his back. "I can finally breathe." shaking his head, he managed to slide out from underneath the large concrete block before falling back against the debris pile. He hurt everywhere. It felt like several ribs were bruised; his arms were cut up pretty bad and he had a headache to top it off. Sighing, he started to get up before stopping as the motion just sent pain racketing across his body. "This sucks."

The sound of a soft groan caught his attention as he noticed a small pile of debris nearby started to shift. It had to be Alicia. Despite the pain, he forced himself to his feet and half stumbled, half fell over to where she was trapped. He moved the debris pieces as fast as his sore shoulders would allow him too. Moving aside a larger piece, he watched as her arm fell free from the confinement. Blood trickled off her fingertips from a large gash that edged down her arm.

"Alicia?" he called; taking her hand in his own. Her fingers twitched some before eventually giving his hand a weak squeeze. "Thank God." he sighed before working on removing the rest of the debris. It took him close to ten minutes before he was able to move enough of the debris to pull her out. She was covered in white dust and blood. Her hair almost seemed gray under the dust, although he was sure his looked the same. She groaned when she attempted to sit up.

"My head..." she muttered; gingerly putting her hand to the source of the pain. The warmth of blood flooded her fingertips and a small trickle slowly made its way down her face. "I must've hit it on something..."

"We need to get you to Jackson," Maxwell remarked; looking around for any sign of the tank. "I don't see any Geist around so we should take this moment to run."

"I don't want to run..." Alicia groaned but took his hand when he offered it to her. She swayed slightly when she got to her feet.

You don't look so pretty...

"Don't remind me," she grumbled; holding a hand to her head.

You're low on health and strength. I won't be able to heal you properly till you get some rest but I can do what I can with what you have left.

"I need to keep moving..." she whispered, before turning back to Maxwell. "Let's get going. I won't be able to do much in this state but I'll do what I can."

"I was just planning on running," Maxwell remarked; watching as she swayed some on her feet and had to step out some to keep her balance. "You know what, why don't I just carry you out of here?"

"No, it's okay..." Alicia started, before falling forward.

Maxwell was quick to catch her before noticing that she had clearly passed out. "Oh man...what do I do now?"



"Ground control this is Jackson, is anyone there?" he sighed when only static answered him. "Fuck this radio man. Damn thing must be busted." slipping the small communicator back on his belt he looked back over what he could see of the streets from his position. What few Geist solders there were, were gone but the tank was still somewhere out there. He heard it shoot a rocket off earlier before slowly just drifting away. It could be anywhere by this point. Luckily though, he would be able to hear it before he saw it. Or before it saw him.

"Man, how the hell did we manage to bust up the entire team?" he mumbled; jumping off the pile of cars he had been standing on for over an hour now. No one was coming his way and he couldn't see anyone walking around either, so might as well just continue on foot patrol. One of the rules of protocol was if you were separated from the team, keep the radio open and find a safe place to stay till you could regroup. He had the radio open...but he didn't exactly want to leave the street just yet. There was still some time to look for the others. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Jackson!" He turned at the call of his name and watched as one of his teammates raced over to him. "Buddy!"

"Oh God- Butch-" he started before nearly getting knocked to the ground by his friend's tackle. "Well at least I know someone's still alive out here."

"Yeah and aren't you glad it's me?" Butch grinned. "So what are you doing all the way out here?"

"Trying to get someone to answer the damn radio." he sighed; holding up the black device. "I think the thing got busted though."

"Well don't worry; I know where Marilyn is so we can get her to look at it." Butch assured. "She's in one of these abandoned office buildings...I talked to her earlier and said I was heading over. But I can't really remember which one she said she was in."

"I'm so glad we can rely on you Butch." Jackson remarked sarcastically.

"Well I know it's not exactly like home but it'll work for tonight," Marilyn sighed as she leaned back against one of the chairs she managed to salvage from one of the offices. It had a few bullet holes in it but it did pretty well. With her legs crossed in front of her, she busied her hands with working on some of the busted radios. Jackson's had a few loose wires inside that she could easily fix; Dave had a missing chip but luckily he managed to find it before taking it to her; and Maxwell...well half of it was crushed from the debris fall. She could possibly fix it...but it would need a whole new exterior which wasn't exactly just lying around anywhere for her to find.

"Hey it's good enough for me," Butch shrugged; lying out on the floor with his gun set aside and hands tucked under his head. "Any place with a roof and walls is good."

"I love having someone with such low expectations." she chuckled; looking up to silently count the rest of their teammates for the twentieth time that night. She was sometimes paranoid with knowing where everyone was and making sure everyone was in place. Which for now, they were. Most of the men were catching up on some sleep, like Butch was, while others busied themselves with cleaning their weapons or a small card game. "Maxwell, you doing okay over there?" she asked; noting how quiet their leader was. "You haven't said much. Got something on your mind?"

"Does pain count?" Maxwell replied; rubbing his temples. "My head's been ringing back and forth from that hit I took earlier. Plus my ribs are still hurting so I have to be careful and not breathe too hard. Jackson said I already tore some of the membrane away, so it kind of hurts no matter what I do. I'll live though, so no need to worry."

"Oh I'm holding it all in." she replied; sighing as fixing Dave's radio was proving to be a bit more complicated than she originally thought.

"Oh man..." the two looked up at the comment and watched as Jackson walked into the room. His eyes were tired as he wiped his hands on a bloodied cloth. "I tell ya man, she was busted up pretty bad. Mild concussion, half her ribcage was broken, a few sprains here or there, some cuts and gashes, and a whole lot of bruising. But she'll be okay. Nothing too major. From what I could tell, there was no major internal bleeding. She'll need a lot of rest but she should be stable enough to move by morning...if we're lucky. You guys were floating on a miracle. Getting hit by a rocket at that range, you should be lucky you didn't break your spine or were obliterated into shreds that we could fit in a match box."

"You always know how to raise my spirits Jackson," Maxwell replied sarcastically. "What would I do without you?"

"Bleed a whole lot more." he chuckled. "Now let's all get some rest and do this all again in the morning."