Chapter 7
The Gun Pursuit
A/N: Thank you NinjaMelissa, LuckBrick123, Zanelover01, FireIce, and RapidstarJ for your reviews!
Sorry about this being late! I wrote the entire chapter yesterday and accidently deleted the whole thing so this is a redo, though I did change some of it. :(
"Who's there?" I hear Jason ask as footsteps draw near.
I feel this suddenly energizing heat flush over my body, rage, an emotion I rarely experience. I get up as a breeze brings a poignant smell to my nostrils, and I clutch the gun tightly enough that it trembles.
I keep my finger against the trigger guard, and support my left hand with my right. I'm glad Pixal gave me this gun as it has thirty rounds per magazine. I hear a crackle as the orange and red tint becomes more evident. I hold my breath, counting the seconds it takes for them to reach here.
One. A crackle.
Two. Footsteps.
Three. A clang.
Four. A cock.
Five. A whisper.
Six. Silence.
No one stirs. The sounds of our breaths are the only things perceived and I can expect a warm greeting, based upon those friendly noises. Why are they not striking? I wait, yet there is no activity on the other side. I think running would be wise, considering that I'm up against two highly skilled hit men that are bound to have weapons as well.
"The police are here! They've got their guns pointed at you! I hear the sirens and see those fluorescent light flashing at the building!" my phone starts ringing and playing the ridiculous tone, selected by Jay and Lloyd.
Footsteps.
I roll my eyes, nettled at the fact that someone would call me now, and scare off my targets. I climb through the window and catch a glimpse of Jason and Harrison exiting through an opening where a door was never installed. I fire, feeling a slight kickback, and the bullet is now imbedded in the wall. I nearly slip on the concrete, but make it unscathed through the doorway and shoot several more times. None of them find their mark.
A stationary target's hard enough, yet a moving one is even harder to hit, especially with how uncoordinated I am right now. I fire again and blood spatters from Jason's leg, but he keeps running, unfazed.
The wet asphalt causes me to spontaneously fall on my stomach, and the gun goes off, right next to my head. My ears are ringing. I had been gaining on them, now I have quite a distance to move though. I get up, holding the gun a little away from myself and see the two scale six feet, chain link fence. I somehow find myself clambering over I as well.
I turn onto the next street. Light blinds me and I shield my eyes as something screeches. I look to see a black mini van in front of me, only a few feet away.
A bald, pale man practically throws the door open, seeming rather fuming, and shoves a nine millimeter in my face, close enough I can make out a blurry tattoo. "Put your gun down," he demands.
I don't want to. I need to get Jason and Harrison before they hurt Pixal. "I have to-"
A loud pop brings my body back a bit and I look down. There's blood on my right side. I wait for him to say something and another man comes out with an HK .416, pointing it at my head. The first gunman asks, "What are you doing?"
"Pursuing two wanted men," I respond, hoping they aren't wanted as well.
"Clear pass."
"What?"
"Go get them. You don't want the cops involved too, do you?"
I shake my head, obviously lying, but dart off, all the way down the street until I see the Pixal by the hover vehicle, waiting anxiously. "What happened to you?" her mouth drops agape.
"Same as last time, I think," I tell her.
"Did you get them?"
"No, but I shot him. We can follow his blood trail though."
"No," she says flatly.
"Why?" I ask, rather surprised.
"You're hurt and we need to return to the hospital before the others return and suspect us. He's shot, so he won't go far."
I sigh indignantly and get in the car, shutting the door not too gently. Pixal starts the vehicle we both strap in our seatbelts then I unzip the jacket. Only now do I feel any sort of pain in my side and Pixal asks, "Do you need help?"
"I don't know. I need to see how bad it is," I say and lift my shirt up, causing more blood to squirt out, but find it only grazed. From point blank, he must not have intended to harm me much.
"We need to stop the car and I'll help you," Pixal tells me.
"Now how do we explain this mess?"