The gravel at the edge of the cliff glinted coldly in the moonlight. Old Zhou, a soldier of the Eighth Route Army, fastened the safety rope of the final wounded man to a piton, his rough palms etched with bleeding furrows from the hemp rope. "Hold on tight!" he bellowed downward, his voice shredded by the howling mountain wind. Twenty meters away, Li of the Youth National Salvation Army was driving half a tree trunk into a rock crevice with his bayonet; on this makeshift anchor, seven or eight ropes swayed in the night wind like venomous snakes.
"Next group!" Battalion Commander Zhang laid down suppressing fire with his light machine gun, hot casings raining down like hail upon the wounded. Liu Zishan hoisted a comrade with a wounded leg, practically shoving him into the embrace of the ropes. "Close your eyes! Hold on!" The moment the wounded man plummeted, Japanese Army bullets grazed his back and bored into the rock, the resulting spray of stone leaving three bloody gashes across his face.
Leitao retrieved a telescopic bulletproof titanium alloy shield from the Bagua Spinning Top Space, its metallic surface shimmering with a cold, silvery radiance under the moon. He crouched behind the shield, watching the number of figures at the cliff’s edge dwindle—only twelve remained, while the footsteps of the Japanese Army had closed to within a hundred meters. The Scorpion Submachine Guns of the Li Brothers suddenly roared, the muzzle flashes illuminating the steel helmets of the …
Chapter 444