They were armored and incredibly tough, but they were taking too much damage. Both of them were up and moving quickly, putting distance between them. However both were concentrating on Franks now, which meant nothing was stopping the men from the road from engaging them—

BOOM!

And apparently the one in the trees had a .50 cal.

It hit a Nemesis soldier in the back. The impact tore an exit hole the size of a cantaloupe from his ceramic chest plate. Blood sprayed for twenty feet as he went to his knees.

Franks shifted the stream of tracers against the other, systematically ripping him to pieces. The soldier’s rifle was flung away as a bullet tore his fingers off. The last of the belt disappeared and the machine gun was quiet. The Nemesis soldier looked down at his mangled hand, but that didn’t stop him from drawing a combat knife with his other hand. He charged Franks.

Swinging the machine gun like a great big club, Franks batted the soldier across the bank. He bounced off a tree with a resounding crack. Franks covered the distance in a flash, raised the machine gun, and smashed the soldier over the head. He raised it to hit him again, but Franks suddenly dropped the improvised club and took a step back, one hand instinctively flying to the new hole in his bicep.

The other Nemesis soldier had drawn a pistol and shot Franks, but before he could get off a second round the heavy rifle in the trees roared again and the top of the soldier’s head flew into pieces.

Franks went back to finish his damaged foe. The Nemesis soldier was pushing himself out of the broken tree trunk, when a big knife appeared in Franks’ hand, and he began systematically slashing and stabbing. It was a blur of motion, strike, cut, curving and twisting, and back to strike again. They moved away from the tree, the soldier striking, but his movements were becoming increasingly sluggish. Franks kept on slicing. It was an astounding display of brutality. Every time the soldier moved, Franks caught the limb and cut it open. Franks was dispassionate and methodical as he worked the soldier over, slicing through every exposed bit of flesh, until there was nothing left that hadn’t been perforated.

The soldier tried to kick him, but Franks caught his foot with his injured arm, drove him back into the tree, then ran the blade all the way from the knee, up his inner thigh, and deep into his groin. Franks twisted the blade through the pelvis, ripped it out, and then used the soldier’s leg to hoist him up, spin him through the air, and then hurl his body against the rocks so hard that bones exploded.

Holy shit . . .

Strayhorn crawled to his father’s side. He put his ear to Myers’ lips. He was barely breathing. “Come on, Dad. Stay with me.”