THE BEAUTIFUL ONES
Part Twenty-three: Training
Ever since the massacre at the Police precinct, the scene in this particular part of the city had taken an eerie resemblance to one of those scenes near the end of disaster movies shortly before the apocalypse when everyone goes insane and starts on a mass looting binge. The story of what happened in the precinct had spread through the city's criminal underworld with uncanny speed, and they quickly decided to take advantage of the oppurtunity while it still presented itself.
Gaz limped through the scene. Every part of her ached, her gut wound was getting increasingly irritated, the cuts on her face were making seeing difficult as blood got inot her eyes, and she almost always nearly passed out as soon as her torn hands seemed to touch something. She was getting used to it by now though, as her right hand grasped a knife, as yet unbloodied by the killing of another. But it's time would come, Gaz was sure of it.
That time was sooner than she thought as she was suddenly swept up off her feet and slammed against the wall. An escaped prisoner from the Precinct's temporary cells had apparently labeled her as a target. Staring straight into his perverted, wide-eyed grin Gaz drew the knife up and buried it in the molester's neck. The criminal dropped Gaz to the ground and grasped at the spurting neck, trying to keep the blood within his system, but to no avail. He collapsed to the ground and left a steadily-expanding pool of blood in his wake.
Gaz looked down at the knife. She had been caught off guard, but had managed to stand her ground. But she made no mistake, she needed to practice at this. She noticed a barrage of flashing blue and red lights coming from the distance down the road, as well as the previously pro-active trouble-makers pausing for a split-second to look at the lights, then run from the scene like headless chickens. A neighbouring precinct must've sent reinforcements, concluded Gaz.
She noticed someone approaching. A looter. He was clutching onto a TV set he had managed to swindle from an electrical store out back. He was normally a fairly law-abiding citizen, but the oppurtunity just seemed to good to pass up. But even if he was a local philanthropist with funds in several charities it would've made no difference to Gaz. She needed someone to practice on and he was as good a candidate as any.
She ran towards the approaching figure. It was at that moment that he had glanced behind himself in fright so he didn't notice Gaz for a few fateful seconds. Gaz jumped onto the TV set and sent a kick in his face, sending him plummeting to the floor. The TV set smashed beside him, and as he tried to get up a knife was sent straight into his chest. He gurgled some incomprehensible curses before his head slammed back against the concrete, dead as a doornail. Gaz stood on the body, gazing at it triumphantly...
But then a terrible pain ripped through Gaz's stomach and she found herself falling to the pavement beside the corpse. She could feel the blood surging up her troat and saw it bursting to the ground in front of her. She collapsed, utterly exhausted. There was a time, not that long ago, when such an exertion wouldn't have even seen her break a sweat. Now, every time she did something even remotely energetic she risked killing herself. She wasn't going to win this way. She needed a plan.
Reluctantly she picked herself up, her joints creaking under the effort. Partially disorientated she hurriedly checked her gut wound. The stitches were still in place but were only holding the wound together very precariously. She managed through considerable effort to eventually stand on two legs. She took a few unsure steps until she could trust her body not to disintegrate beneath her.
She knew the way to Alex's house, if only because she checked the phone book before she left the station. But she had to figure out some coherent plan to combat Alex without abruptly dying three feet away from her. There would be plenty of time, in her current condition it would take at least two hours to get there. She quickly ducked into a corner as the police reinforcements reached her street. They probably wouldn't appreciate what she had in mind.
She waited a few minutes until she was sure the cops had passed her position, then she took a few tentative steps towards Alex's house. Gaz was no longer going to be the victim, but she had to stay alive long enough to be sure of that...
TO BE CONTINUED...
Part Twenty-three: Training
Ever since the massacre at the Police precinct, the scene in this particular part of the city had taken an eerie resemblance to one of those scenes near the end of disaster movies shortly before the apocalypse when everyone goes insane and starts on a mass looting binge. The story of what happened in the precinct had spread through the city's criminal underworld with uncanny speed, and they quickly decided to take advantage of the oppurtunity while it still presented itself.
Gaz limped through the scene. Every part of her ached, her gut wound was getting increasingly irritated, the cuts on her face were making seeing difficult as blood got inot her eyes, and she almost always nearly passed out as soon as her torn hands seemed to touch something. She was getting used to it by now though, as her right hand grasped a knife, as yet unbloodied by the killing of another. But it's time would come, Gaz was sure of it.
That time was sooner than she thought as she was suddenly swept up off her feet and slammed against the wall. An escaped prisoner from the Precinct's temporary cells had apparently labeled her as a target. Staring straight into his perverted, wide-eyed grin Gaz drew the knife up and buried it in the molester's neck. The criminal dropped Gaz to the ground and grasped at the spurting neck, trying to keep the blood within his system, but to no avail. He collapsed to the ground and left a steadily-expanding pool of blood in his wake.
Gaz looked down at the knife. She had been caught off guard, but had managed to stand her ground. But she made no mistake, she needed to practice at this. She noticed a barrage of flashing blue and red lights coming from the distance down the road, as well as the previously pro-active trouble-makers pausing for a split-second to look at the lights, then run from the scene like headless chickens. A neighbouring precinct must've sent reinforcements, concluded Gaz.
She noticed someone approaching. A looter. He was clutching onto a TV set he had managed to swindle from an electrical store out back. He was normally a fairly law-abiding citizen, but the oppurtunity just seemed to good to pass up. But even if he was a local philanthropist with funds in several charities it would've made no difference to Gaz. She needed someone to practice on and he was as good a candidate as any.
She ran towards the approaching figure. It was at that moment that he had glanced behind himself in fright so he didn't notice Gaz for a few fateful seconds. Gaz jumped onto the TV set and sent a kick in his face, sending him plummeting to the floor. The TV set smashed beside him, and as he tried to get up a knife was sent straight into his chest. He gurgled some incomprehensible curses before his head slammed back against the concrete, dead as a doornail. Gaz stood on the body, gazing at it triumphantly...
But then a terrible pain ripped through Gaz's stomach and she found herself falling to the pavement beside the corpse. She could feel the blood surging up her troat and saw it bursting to the ground in front of her. She collapsed, utterly exhausted. There was a time, not that long ago, when such an exertion wouldn't have even seen her break a sweat. Now, every time she did something even remotely energetic she risked killing herself. She wasn't going to win this way. She needed a plan.
Reluctantly she picked herself up, her joints creaking under the effort. Partially disorientated she hurriedly checked her gut wound. The stitches were still in place but were only holding the wound together very precariously. She managed through considerable effort to eventually stand on two legs. She took a few unsure steps until she could trust her body not to disintegrate beneath her.
She knew the way to Alex's house, if only because she checked the phone book before she left the station. But she had to figure out some coherent plan to combat Alex without abruptly dying three feet away from her. There would be plenty of time, in her current condition it would take at least two hours to get there. She quickly ducked into a corner as the police reinforcements reached her street. They probably wouldn't appreciate what she had in mind.
She waited a few minutes until she was sure the cops had passed her position, then she took a few tentative steps towards Alex's house. Gaz was no longer going to be the victim, but she had to stay alive long enough to be sure of that...
TO BE CONTINUED...