"Hey! Hey, you!" Roger shouted in the snake's direction, eyes still closed. "Try picking on somebody your own size!"
He squeezed the trigger twice more, and in a swift, practiced series of motions returned his gun to its moorings and tore the supersledge loose. The mass of the creature lay directly ahead. It'd be a damned hard thing to miss, and if he heard it rearing up or changing position to strike, he'd hopefully have enough time to twist out of its way. You didn't get far wielding a sledge if you couldn't pivot fast enough to give the thing serious momentum.
What followed was not a series of events he would much care to remember in times to come. The blasted Basilisk was easily as fast as a Deathclaw, or perhaps faster, and he had scarcely any warning at all of its motion or impending strike. The massive hammer didn't so much land a blow on its scales as provide a pivot point for Roger to spin around when the first fang strike came his way, and then the second; the third saw him simply drop to the floor and roll in as tight a ball as a man in his armor could manage. He was almost positive he heard the thing's fangs snapping just behind him as he came up out of it.
How long he could keep this up, at his age and with the monstrous snake that angry, he didn't know. He wasn't going to think about that. He just had to keep it off the kid until somebody figured out how to take the wretched thing down for good.
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"Hey! Hey, you!" Roger shouted in the snake's direction, eyes still closed. "Try picking on somebody your own size!"
He squeezed the trigger twice more, and in a swift, practiced series of motions returned his gun to its moorings and tore the supersledge loose. The mass of the creature lay directly ahead. It'd be a damned hard thing to miss, and if he heard it rearing up or changing position to strike, he'd hopefully have enough time to twist out of its way. You didn't get far wielding a sledge if you couldn't pivot fast enough to give the thing serious momentum.
What followed was not a series of events he would much care to remember in times to come. The blasted Basilisk was easily as fast as a Deathclaw, or perhaps faster, and he had scarcely any warning at all of its motion or impending strike. The massive hammer didn't so much land a blow on its scales as provide a pivot point for Roger to spin around when the first fang strike came his way, and then the second; the third saw him simply drop to the floor and roll in as tight a ball as a man in his armor could manage. He was almost positive he heard the thing's fangs snapping just behind him as he came up out of it.
How long he could keep this up, at his age and with the monstrous snake that angry, he didn't know. He wasn't going to think about that. He just had to keep it off the kid until somebody figured out how to take the wretched thing down for good.