Epilogue
Chapter Nine: Snaps and Zings

I'd originally planned for this to be longer, but I figured comic relief wasn't really appropriate now. So it's shorter than I'd written it before... Anyway. Another bad thing happens during this chapter, and you can pound me if you want - it's a cliffhanger. ...Wow, it really is SHORT.

The pounding of shotguns and rat-a-tats of M-16s echoed through the abandoned apartment building. Cybersix and Lucas had been forced to hide when an armed troop of Types and Fixed Ideas had marched around the corner. However, it seemed that they'd been seen, and were now crouching on a damp, rotting floor. The bullets sprayed through the glassless windows, keeping them unsure of what they were up against.
How long can we stay here? Lucas asked.
Not long. These walls won't hold back the bullets for more than another ten minutes or so. Probably less. The sooner we get out, the better.
Lucas nodded. But we don't know where they are... He trailed off, thinking, then spun around and attempted to peer out the window.
A gloved hand yanked him back as the volley of firing increased. Are you crazy? Cybersix hissed. If either of us does that, it ought to be me! Besides, if I get shot, they'll probably leave you alone long enough for you to get out of here!

Don't. We're running out of time. There was agonized silence from both parties, but no lull in the shooting outside.
All right, was the reluctant answer.
Cybersix nodded and smiled shakily. She took a deep breath, preparing herself, then leaned to the side and loooked out the small, bullet-peppered window. Bullets now snapped past her ears, but she forced herself to study the troops. Snapping means they're close, she thought distractedly, too close. They've got good aim...
She suddenly slammed away from the window, chest heaving, her hat on the floor. Lucas exclaimed. Are you all right?! Cybersix nodded breathlessly, and picked up her hat. Straining to control the shaking in her hands, she showed him the hole in the rim, dangerously close to where her face would be.

I'm fine, Cybersix breathed. She deliberated. I think we can escape out the side window.
Good news at last. He smiled, and offered her his hand. The two got up and darted silently to the side window, which was the only glass-filled frame in the small room. Cybersix held Lucas securely around the waist with her left arm and smashed out the glass with her elbow, the pain barely registering in her adrenaline-high mind. You ready, Lucas?
As ready as I'm going to be, he said, and tried not to show his apprehension.
She leaned precariously out the window, judging the far distance to the next rooftop, and, digging her heels into the frame, leaped across the wide gap. Bullets zinged and snapped past her, but her concern was for Lucas, and she did not stop running and jumping until she was a good ten blocks into the city, and hiding in a dark alley.
It was only after a few moments that she realized her left arm was soaked with a warm, sticky fluid. And frantically, she searched for the entrance wound on her arm, letting Lucas lean heavily against the wall. Why hadn't she felt any pain? Bullets hurt; it didn't matter HOW tough you were... Slowly, it began to dawn on her.
She hadn't felt pain because a bullet hadn't hit her. And the blood wasn't hers. Which meant only one thing.