The Industrialist

Chapter 8: Obsidian Scorpion

"A capacitor is measured by its capacitance using the unit of measure, Farad. Centuries ago, the largest supercapacitor that has the capacitance of 100,000 farads and can store 50 megajoules had the size of a 40-tonner trailer truck. To support this capacity, this supercapacitor consists of power banks (small capacitors) to stabilize its capacity if connected to tremendous power lines.

The Energy Accelerator consists of only one capacitor, half of the capacitance of the super capacitor but only approximately 1/1000 of its size. It had a lot of capacitance encased in a small body"

Erik Berkley

***

Bullets sprayed behind them. It was Joe, trigger-happy, or panicky. Bullets bounced off the creature or dug into the creature’s shelled body.

As the sound of the ricochet suggested, almost all bounced off from the beast.

Lance was not sure. He covered his ears with his palms; the engine could not have been any louder. Lance contributed to being a navigator instead of a gunslinger in this case.

The screeches became sharper, louder, and more annoying than before. A cloud of dust caught up to them from behind. Visibility had become worse. Devastation had crept to anywhere their jeep would tread as such being was in pursuit.

Luckily though, the jeep still had a kick in it that the engine steadied its top speed.

In his peripherals, Damian turned occasionally to shoot his rifle for a little contribution to sheepishly delaying their inevitable deaths.

"Jasper, weak spots! Find any parts without hard shell!" Lance screamed unto a blurry cerebral AI.

"Chest...and head...Master," Jasper said, weakly.

"Aim for the chest and head!" Lance screamed. He saw George nod at that, however, Joe was preoccupied with whatever useless effort he was currently making.

On Lance’s right side, on a sudden and quick succession, the scorpion’s razor-sharp tail dug against the dusty concrete, seemingly missing its aim. It was almost rapid that the ground reverberated every time the stinger plunged against concrete.

Their jeep jerked to the side as the blow tested the integrity of their vehicle.

Their jeep swerved left to right as to confuse the pursuing Abominant.

"It’s a level 3, Damian!" George shouted, his semi-automatic rifle now turned to full automatic mode.

Their vehicle continued to press on, and everything was silent again but the wind whooshing and their engine roaring.

The two guys stopped shooting in the process. A huge satisfying sigh was released from both of them, perceptible enough even with their gas masks.

Lance’s heart thumped harder still though even they had successfully escaped their close-call deaths.

"Do you always have close encounters like that?" Lance asked.

"No," Damian answered. "It was my first time. It was so rare that we encountered a level 3 Abominant."

"There are levels of Abominants?" Lance asked.

"Yes, but the leveling of these monsters only was established by the Outsiders and us, Rebels of the Corporation."

"Level 3!" George said "Whew! That was something. Never had that one big before. I almost emptied my armory here."

George fist-bumped Joe in the back. They seemed to have misplaced happiness with what had conspired a while ago.

"I don’t follow," Lance shyly said.

"Level threes are one in a hundred instances to have faced them. Never had I heard somebody who escaped a Level 3 Abominant." George said, his voice was loud now. He gained confidence.

"What about other levels?"

"Your inquisition never stops, do you?" Damian interjected. Their vehicle now was decelerating. Dead trees heaved the sides of the road this time.

"We will meet another Specialist here. He will take us to the Outsiders’ community." Damian continued.

"Community?" His inquisition never stopped.

"We can’t go to the trench alone, kid. Jefferson told me that your utmost survival is our priority and having able bodies will ensure that. Hopefully." Damian released a soft chuckle.

Lance did not answer at that. But he was surprised that people outside the walls had somehow managed to live among the dangers of the Abominants.

"Here they are." Three of them appeared from afar, dressed to kill from the looks of them.