The blue jacket was buffeted by the wind, it's baggy fabric rippled in the hostile weather.
Dead trees stood side by side with rows of small, decayed terraced housing. The bricks were coated in vulgar language
and faction affiliations were painted onto boarded up abodes that once served as family homes, now as dens for crooks and
gang members to stow away in.
Philip rubbed his hands together, the black synthetic leather of his gloves making audible contact with each other.
"Shit's dead today." His voice cracked, betraying his young age as he spoke.
"Today? Damn, it's been dead for weeks." Philip's companion said as he walked alongside him while they slowly trudged up
the battered pavement ahead of them. As they made their way around the corner of the run down building that sat idly
on the side of the street; the sound of fireworks or small thunderclaps became apparent, causing the two to look at
each other rather puzzled. The source of the confusion quickly became obvious, though, blatantly obvious at that, as two
figures draped in red clothing came into sight from a ginnel inbetween two houses ahead of them...both of the figures
carrying what seemed to be handguns.
"Shit, Tens!" shouted Philip's companion, Ab'. As both men began to turn around and run for cover behind a derelict wall
on the other side of the street, sparks started to fly around their feet.
"Ab', they're fucking blasting at us!" Philip declared as both men flew over the broken down wall, ducking behind it with
their backs firmly planted to it's protective, brick face.
"We're gonna' have to light 'em up, Ab', they're not stopping." Philip said as he pulled up the bottom of his jacket
and shirt, revealing a small pistol hidden in his waistband. Ab' looked on quietly, only his heavy breathing breaking his
silence as Philip pulled the gun out of the waist of his tracksuit bottoms and only once glanced at Ab' before he announced
their presence with return fire, the loud bangs resonating within the pair's eardrums.
The shorter of the two attackers, at the forefront of the assault, quickly soaked up the rounds that Philip let off;
his red jersey now sporting numerous holes as he collapsed to the ground, his own pistol falling to the concrete with a
metallic *clunk*.
"Fuck, Shepard!" The now deceased boy's friend turned his attention to Philip as he cried out in horror and anguish
"You fucking ah-...you killed him!" the man's outburst was short lived though, as Philip regained his composure and
trained the gun onto the grieving rival, firing upon him until he'd exhausted his magazine.
The man dropped dead, his body folding up under itself as he lay sprawled out in the middle of the road on the tarmac.
Philip and Ab' looked at each other in shock after they tore their eyes away from the scene in front of them;
that is until the nearing sirens blared out only a few feet away, their contorted faces now highlighted in red and blue
from the lights atop the car that was fixed on their position.
"Fuck." The two boys said in unison.