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~
