Last Stand

She picked up her chest plate and clipped it back of, heaving her massive boobs into shaped recesses in the metal. She rummaged in the leaves for a moment, then slithered over to him.

A pang of fear stabbed through his post coital bliss, he remembered where he was, and what had happened. Was she returning to drag him away to a holding cell, or finish him off? She raised a hand above him, his machete, stained with her congealed blood held in her fist. He closed his eyes, awaiting the death blow, but none came. He opened them gingerly, she had dropped it at his feet.

"What...?"

The Viper huffed, chuckling to herself, then turned her back on him, winding away into the dark trees.

"Wait! Where are you..."

Moreau sat, stunned. Was she letting him go? She had returned his weapon, as a sign of respect? As thanks for the good lay? He gripped the handle, rising shakily to his feet on unsteady legs, and examined it. It was impossible to say, and the Viper was nowhere to be seen now.

He began to walk into the forest, deciding never to tell his brothers in arms about what had transpired today, he doubted they would even believe him if he tried.

He tapped his earpiece, still no response, but over the static he heard the roar of an engine. He glanced up to the forest canopy, it was the unmistakable sound of a skyranger, they really had come back for him after having secured the sample!

But how could he signal them? He checked his belt, he had one tool left, a flare! He lit it, the red smoke rising above the trees, but the engine sound grew fainter. Had they seen his signal? Yes! The engines grew closer again, they must have circled back around. He realized his armor was shredded and his belt was barely holding up what was left of his pants. Oh well, time to exaggerate his heroics to include clothing-destroying explosions or the claws of a Berserker. Perhaps he would tell them some of the truth, that he tangled with a vicious Viper, and gotten closer than he would have liked.