Sharpshooter

Posted: January 5, 2008 in Brawl, Dark, Fiction, Sci-Fi

Chapter 22

Jesus.
What a badass.
Sasha balances herself precariously on the ledge high above the battleground, both pistols blazing, silver blades speeding through the air to the helpless Officers.
Each fat bullet hits its target, each messenger of death ending a life with barely a cry from the victims.
She stops, and all of the Officers surrounding me are dead, each one with a crossbow bolt shot through their hearts. Diana and Adam walk towards Cat and I as Sasha and the other Saints climb down a ladder located next to the gate.
Cat’s panting from the pain in his hand and I feel faint from shock.
I stare blankly at the X on my hand and realize that this marking is an affirmation of my own mortality.
I honestly thought I was untouchable; like all those nights in back alleys breaking faces, I felt unstoppable. Yet with just this small wound I feel drained, empty.
“Oh, shit!”
Squire’s pained voice stretches loudly across the field to us, plaintive and wretched. I twist my head to his cry and see Sasha kneeling down to him, her hands set firmly on his leg. It’s bent at an awkward angle, and it appears to have been shattered by a bullet.
I stand with some difficulty and walk to them. As I near Squire’s battered body, Sasha wrenches his leg back into place with a sickening crunch. Squire screams, his voice bouncing off of the stone gates to be lost in the thick forest beyond.
“That hurt, you fucking whore!” Squire roars at the gunslinger Saint.
“Oh please, don’t be a little bitch. Whine all you want, I don’t give a damn.”
“Hey,” Sol interjects. “I don’t mean to interrupt you two lovebirds–”
“Fuck you!” Both Sasha and Squire chime in unison, glaring daggers at Sol.
“–but we should get back into the city before probable reinforcements arrive. Come on people, move.”
The Saints turn and trudge towards the gates. I move in a trance, near-asleep now as events catch up to me. I’m exhausted; the pain from the mark on my hand has taken a much larger toll than it should have done.
I feel a touch on my shoulder and turn. Cat is resting his hand there, and a smile plays out on his mouth, one usually reserved for the appearance of food.
Something in his beaming face stirs my spirit. I straighten my spine and blink a few times, soon returning Cat’s beatific smile.
Adam hoists Squire into a fireman’s carry. The city gates swing outward, creaking with the weight of many ages, and we silently file past the walls.

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Comments
  1. larkie says:

    that fourth paragraph is pretty damn cool mah luko.
    I like this chapter because even though it’s short, it feels like a lot has happened.
    so yes! good job luke! CAPS LOCK

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