The air was hot, and not a trace of precipitation lingered there. Trillian
Montgomery made meticulously sure that her heavy combat boots touched
nothing but the thick stones that paved the littered street. The coup de
tat had sparked the citizens of Culiacan's sense of patriotism, making her
believe that the death toll would be higher than if they hadn't followed
their president as they did. She turned into an alleyway, ignoring the
sight of bloody bystanders that dotted the walk.
The archway blotted the hot sun from Trillian's view. Thank God, she thought. Resting against a wall, she kneeled down and pulled up the leg of her baggy black training pants, exposing a small band. Attached to the band was a walkie-talkie, which was crackling static. She shut it off, replaced it, and stood up. She brushed off her tight, dark blue shirt and looked around. Damn the city of Culiacan for thinking they could help, she thought, seeing a black-clad body lying face down in the center of the alleyway. But a moment later, the body moved, very slightly. She furrowed her brow, and kneeled down next to it.
"Hello?" She said softly, touching the back of the person's head gently. "Are you alright?"
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"Hello?" Sands heard, as he rose slowly into consciousness. "Are you alright?"
He groaned slightly at the searing pain in his back, where chicle boy had clonked him.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Trillian pursed her lips, unsure of whether she should move him or not. The sound of gunfire in the street made up her mind. She rolled him over with difficulty, because apparently he didn't want to go. When she got him on his back, she gasped. The man was wearing a dark pair of sunglasses, and she was thankful. Dark stains of blood ran down his face and neck, mixing with the dirt that was in its way. His lips were slightly parted in a sad gesture of agony. Her heart ached for him, although she had no idea what he had done to deserve such a punishment.
Trillian sat him up, trying hard to keep her mind off of the blood on his face.
"What happened?" She asked him gently, trying not to alarm him in any way.
"Where am I?" The man asked her, his voice hoarse and weak.
"Well, I'm not...not actually sure." Trillian said, shifting her weight to the ball of her other foot, for balance's sake.
The man seemed to be able to sit up himself now, and Trillian backed off. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Sands struggled to sit up, and finally did. He did a mental checklist to make sure his entire body was there. Nothing seemed missing, with the exception of his eyes. The thought made him cringe. He reached inside his pockets, but to his dismay, his money was gone. His guns seemed to be missing as well. The little shit mugged me! Sands thought, infuriated. He tried to stand, but ended up with an agonizing pain in his left arm, where he had been shot.
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"Do you need help?" Trillian asked, raising an eyebrow at the guy. He nodded, obviously defeated. She sighed, and hooked her arm under his, lifting him to his feet. He was in pretty bad condition. So much for med school, she thought sadly, seeing several bullet wounds. As soon as he was up, though, he started flailing wildly, and Trillian stepped back, hand on her gun.
"Whoa...chill, buster." She said, eyeing the unsteady man. He didn't seem to mind her, though, because he continued to move frantically.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Sands didn't want to be touched. Frankly, by anyone. He was less trusting now than he'd ever been, which was hardly possible.
"Don't touch me." He ordered gruffly, although his voice sounded like an eighty-year old that hadn't had a sip of water in days. The woman chuckled at him, and Sands wished he still had access to his gun.
"It's not funny." He said, limping toward where he hoped the mouth of the shaded area was. He felt around, trying to find the wall.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Trillian's eyes widened as the guy groped towards the alleyway entrance, where just beyond, rapid gunfire was heard. She walked quickly to him, placing a hand on his uninjured shoulder.
"Don't go any further." She warned slowly. The man stopped, and turned his head skyward, apparently very confused.
"Where am I?" He asked again.
"In an alley...In Culiacan?" Trillian prompted helpfully.
The guy started muttering. "And who are you?"
"Name's Trillian. And you are?"
"Sands."
"Okay then, Sands," Trillian began, looking out into the street, where some members of the military came steadily closer, "how about I take you someplace safe, where you don't have to worry about anything coming at you?"
Sands was taking a long time to think it over. She didn't blame him, because he was blind, injured, and tired. If she were him, she wouldn't trust herself.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
To his horror, Sands felt himself nod. Why? Why did I say yes? He asked himself helplessly, as the woman slid her arm across his back, for support. Because you have nothing to live for, remember? If you die, then so what? He reminded himself. It was odd, because he had mixed feelings about wherever he was off to. He almost hoped that wherever it was, they would kill him, and kill him quickly.
The archway blotted the hot sun from Trillian's view. Thank God, she thought. Resting against a wall, she kneeled down and pulled up the leg of her baggy black training pants, exposing a small band. Attached to the band was a walkie-talkie, which was crackling static. She shut it off, replaced it, and stood up. She brushed off her tight, dark blue shirt and looked around. Damn the city of Culiacan for thinking they could help, she thought, seeing a black-clad body lying face down in the center of the alleyway. But a moment later, the body moved, very slightly. She furrowed her brow, and kneeled down next to it.
"Hello?" She said softly, touching the back of the person's head gently. "Are you alright?"
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
"Hello?" Sands heard, as he rose slowly into consciousness. "Are you alright?"
He groaned slightly at the searing pain in his back, where chicle boy had clonked him.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Trillian pursed her lips, unsure of whether she should move him or not. The sound of gunfire in the street made up her mind. She rolled him over with difficulty, because apparently he didn't want to go. When she got him on his back, she gasped. The man was wearing a dark pair of sunglasses, and she was thankful. Dark stains of blood ran down his face and neck, mixing with the dirt that was in its way. His lips were slightly parted in a sad gesture of agony. Her heart ached for him, although she had no idea what he had done to deserve such a punishment.
Trillian sat him up, trying hard to keep her mind off of the blood on his face.
"What happened?" She asked him gently, trying not to alarm him in any way.
"Where am I?" The man asked her, his voice hoarse and weak.
"Well, I'm not...not actually sure." Trillian said, shifting her weight to the ball of her other foot, for balance's sake.
The man seemed to be able to sit up himself now, and Trillian backed off. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Sands struggled to sit up, and finally did. He did a mental checklist to make sure his entire body was there. Nothing seemed missing, with the exception of his eyes. The thought made him cringe. He reached inside his pockets, but to his dismay, his money was gone. His guns seemed to be missing as well. The little shit mugged me! Sands thought, infuriated. He tried to stand, but ended up with an agonizing pain in his left arm, where he had been shot.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
"Do you need help?" Trillian asked, raising an eyebrow at the guy. He nodded, obviously defeated. She sighed, and hooked her arm under his, lifting him to his feet. He was in pretty bad condition. So much for med school, she thought sadly, seeing several bullet wounds. As soon as he was up, though, he started flailing wildly, and Trillian stepped back, hand on her gun.
"Whoa...chill, buster." She said, eyeing the unsteady man. He didn't seem to mind her, though, because he continued to move frantically.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Sands didn't want to be touched. Frankly, by anyone. He was less trusting now than he'd ever been, which was hardly possible.
"Don't touch me." He ordered gruffly, although his voice sounded like an eighty-year old that hadn't had a sip of water in days. The woman chuckled at him, and Sands wished he still had access to his gun.
"It's not funny." He said, limping toward where he hoped the mouth of the shaded area was. He felt around, trying to find the wall.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Trillian's eyes widened as the guy groped towards the alleyway entrance, where just beyond, rapid gunfire was heard. She walked quickly to him, placing a hand on his uninjured shoulder.
"Don't go any further." She warned slowly. The man stopped, and turned his head skyward, apparently very confused.
"Where am I?" He asked again.
"In an alley...In Culiacan?" Trillian prompted helpfully.
The guy started muttering. "And who are you?"
"Name's Trillian. And you are?"
"Sands."
"Okay then, Sands," Trillian began, looking out into the street, where some members of the military came steadily closer, "how about I take you someplace safe, where you don't have to worry about anything coming at you?"
Sands was taking a long time to think it over. She didn't blame him, because he was blind, injured, and tired. If she were him, she wouldn't trust herself.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
To his horror, Sands felt himself nod. Why? Why did I say yes? He asked himself helplessly, as the woman slid her arm across his back, for support. Because you have nothing to live for, remember? If you die, then so what? He reminded himself. It was odd, because he had mixed feelings about wherever he was off to. He almost hoped that wherever it was, they would kill him, and kill him quickly.
