a/n: Meanwhile, back in the subway...


Pursuit 3


Uncurling, and turning to face his tormentors,

He stands, one hand shielding harsh light from his eyes.

A laugh stripped of humour, sharp words laced with menace,

He nods in submission, his action belies

His next sudden movement; a rain of glass splinters

Thrown hard at pale faces, torch kicked, down and...out!

He rolls swiftly sideways, regains his sure footing,

And runs,

Now back tracking;

Few choices,

No doubt.

~0~

The heat of a bullet burns past him, he traces

A path through the subway; eccentric, askew.

Bursts out onto wasteland, ducks down, still zig-zagging;

His foe close behind him, his strength nearly through.

The rust-wrecked remains of old cars, long abandoned,

Serve briefly as cover, obscuring his trail.

More shots whine around him, too near, now, for comfort;

And far

In the distance,

He hears

Sirens wail.

~0~

He will soon be discovered; avoiding detection

Can last only moments, a few seconds more.

He stumbles on rubble-strewn, weed-tangled concrete;

No last minute options to even the score.

A call distracts both the pursued and pursuers.

That voice! He's aware of the warm hopeful thrill

Of relieved recognition; he turns, senses straining;

A loud gunshot

Echoes.

He falls

And is still.

~0~