”Or run, we can all just run!” Harper.
“Run? Here?”
Her voice swayed and nearly broke when she said that. Leila looked over her shoulder to see the approaching - whatever that mechanical monstrosity is supposed to be called - and then at her feet, and then back at Harper. Soil, water, and organic material that was already decomposed beyond recognition formed a thick layer of a mixture that felt equivalent to having her boots submerged in a solution of cornstarch.
Then behind her she heard the explosion - and, after a few more seconds, the ruffling sounds branches and leaves made as they scraped through the nearby mass of vegetation as a tree fell to the ground.
Leila jerked her left foot out from the ground and ran.
As close as she could get to running when the ground felt like it was made of glue, at least. She found great difficulty in each step as she failed to anticipate how much the boot will sink, or in which direction more than the others - resulting a rather wobbly sequence of steps with splattering of dark coloured organic goo being splattered around her trail and onto her clothes.
To make things worse, it seemed certain that the gigantic robot was not about to give up pursuit just yet, as its heavy steps echoed through the nearby forest (is that thing on legs? On this terrain? How does that even-).
Soon it was clear that she simply wasn’t running fast enough. The robot was drawing closer, and luck wasn’t going to be relied on forever dodging what seemed to be more cannonballs than paintball rounds.
She turned around to check on the status of the robot, and staggered -
“-weeeh?”
Leila felt something grabbing hold of her by the ribs, and her feet being lifted off the ground. Lesley tossed the girl onto his back and darted forward once again. Leila wrapped her hands around his neck and clutched hard onto his shoulders to avoid falling off as Lesley switched directions with each step he took forward. "Shoot while I run Leila!" he commanded.
Scrambling, she drew her gun and, gripping it with both hands, aligned it with the direction of the robot. Lesley’s footsteps made it harder to maintain aim, but making decisions fast enough she managed to find a window and pulled the trigger without hesitation.
The paintball shot hit the robot very much right in the face with no notable effect.
Meanwhile, Leila - and likely Lesley - realized that having one of them carry the other while firing a firearm probably wasn’t the best of ideas. The recoil that was easily managed when she was standing on the ground herself had a much larger effect when she was in such an unstable situation. Immediately after the round was released through the muzzle Leila had to grab back onto Lesley’s neck again so that she didn’t topple sideways. Her gun, in the mean time, was flung from her scurrying hands and landed with a plop nearby in the mud. The initial reaction Leila had towards the gun slipping out of her grip was to claw in the same direction in an attempt to retrieve it, which - incidentally - pulled Lesley even further away from the support his feet provided.
The two suffered a particularly miserable collapse onto the ground. For Leila, a few rolls followed and she found herself struggling to stand up, disoriented and covered in dirt and decayed fragments of leaves. The display, partially covered in mud and foggy everywhere, blinked a faint 68%.
She scurried to get off the ground, pressed by the imminent threat of the approaching robot. In the meantime she grabbed the paintball gun from the gun and pulling the triggers a few times with it pointed towards the mechanical giant, in vain hope to slow it down a little to earn herself some time to escape, even though she knew perfectly well that the shots would land but do nothing at all.
It turned out she was wrong. The shots weren’t even fired.
“Uh - ” she panicked, “- someone - does anyone know what I should do when -”
Letting out a disappointed whimper at the jammed weapon, she grabbed it and finally managed to stand up and take a few steps forward, only to then find the robot in immediate proximity and a laser dot pointing into her face.
Leila wasn’t even actually thinking strategically when she let out a yelp and darted forwards, towards the robot instead of away from it. It was just that it seemed like she every other potential route of escape ended apparently in immediate death (at least in-game - she wasn’t sure how well the force field thing was exactly supposed to work, and she didn’t really want to find out either). When she was grunting and lying face down, hands over head to protect herself from all the matter splattering outwards from where the point of impact of another of the robots pain-cannonballs, one that left a crater in the moist soil where Leila was just a moment ago; it only then occurred to her that she had placed herself in a position that was - quite paradoxically - one of the safest.
Loosing track of the signal of the human that it was just hunting after, the robot paused in its path - perhaps to re-calibrate itself to seek and follow new targets? And Leila lay still, suppressing her panting as hard as possible, hoping the robot won’t notice where she went, while staring at the bottom and back of the robot, where coils dangled and steam poured out of exposed pipelines…
…wait.
Was that actually a good idea? Leila didn’t know, but she decided to find out. Tossing aside the now malfunctioning paintball rifle she pulled out the pistol tucked in a holster strapped to her waist - thankfully she remembered to take this backup - and fired two shots into the opening in armour on the backside of the left knee joint.
The robot, irritated, lifted its leg and shifted a few steps around. Leila barely evaded being stepped on by one of the metal feet. Yet it seemed that, despite its best attempts, the way in which its aiming system and weapons were mounted, that the robot couldn’t take aim too close underneath it.
“...people? I think -”
She didn’t finish the sentence because she knew the others couldn’t hear her words clearly above all the noise the robot was making. Instead, she raised one arm to shield her eyes from the shrapnel and steam, and holding the weapon in the other hand - despite feeling a bit bad for such a sophisticated piece of technology - she emptied a magazine into the linkages that composed the machine’s hip joint.