Akira
His chest heaved up and down, adrenaline running through his veins. He couldn't run. The single blade was fairly large, yet virtually useless against a trained pilot with medium range weaponry. Akira was not one to give up though. He focused. There had to be something that he could do.
Quickly assessing the enemy mobile suit he noted weak points. The knees. If he were to cut out the knees the opposing pilot would not be able to return attack. In one final attempt he shoved the suit into movement. The verniers flared, fuel burning fast, the tank almost empty. The gundam jumped back, trying to avoid the GM's wrath. But the pilot of the gundam made one vital mistake, he threw full power into the legs, making the ground crumble out from below its feet. It was unable to escape the blade.
The jagged blade ripped through the knee joints. As it fell Akira thrusted the remaining hand into the midsection, and ripped out the generator. A small explosion erupted from the chemicals spewing out from broken hoses and reservoirs. He turned the suit away from the gundam, looking around for remaining enemies. He found none, relaxing for a moment. He limped his worn out GM towards the outskirts of the city, hoping that he could make it somewhere safe before reinforcements came...
Sergeant Johnson
Carrying Kasumi on his back made him tired... he was used to rigorous exercise, but this was pushing his limits. He made his way to the closest building, not being able to carry her any further. The floor was littered with debris. Furniture lay overturned, and there seemed to be a stench coming from rotting fruit. What he did notice though, was the building's boiler must have been intact, due to the fact that the room was warm. He sighed in relief, setting her down on a ripped and battered sofa. He then put down the bag and closed and locked the door, checking it twice over. It wouldn't do him any good if someone of the wrong set of mind came along. Taking off his jacket, he walked into the adjacent room.
And was instantly surprised and disgusted at his discovery. The smell of the..."rotting fruit" was coming from corpses that lay on the floor. Everyone of them had a large gash on their throat, as if the flesh had been ripped open by a large knife. He shuddered. He had the feeling that he was no longer alone.
Kasumi
She opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings. She winced, her head aching. After propping herself against the arm of the sofa, she took another look around. Kasumi found no trace of her companion, and was instantly alarmed. She didn't like the smell of the place, in fact she found it rather disgusting... something moved. Or at least she thought. She looked around, checking for signs of movement. Something dripped on her face. She wiped her hand across her face in an effort to remove it. It was dark red liquid, crimson in nature. Her eyes widened, and she slowly brought her eyes to the ceiling...
Akira
The mecha lay collapsed in a pile of scrap metal, completely devoid of strength. He limped along, his body taxed from his previous battle. He seeked shelter, knowing that the nights could be harsh. He saw a single lighted building, and walked towards it. He knew that the light would gather attention, but he needed the power. He pushed open the door, and met an unusual site.
A girl lay poised on the couch, eyes wide open with fear, staring straight at the ceiling. On the ceiling was a grisly totem, a severed head. Quite fresh, from the amount of blood dripping from it. The killer... was no where to be seen. He looked carefully around the room, ignoring the grisly totem and the shocked girl. His eyes met with another pair... the light glinting in them, a dark pair of devious eyes. The figure grinned, showing broken and yellowed teeth. A large knife lay in its hands. The insane asylum uniform which he was wearing was no longer white, but rather bloody and dirty. This man was clearly insane.
A bullet rang out of nowhere, blasting a large hole in the crazy man's chest. He staggered, looking down at the gaping hole. Laughing, he keeled over, blood pooling around his body. Sergeant Johnson stepped out of the other room, the pistol barrel still smoking. Quickly noting their uniforms, he realized that they were federation. But, he didn't care anymore... he was too tired, too spent to care. He walked over to a large armchair and fell into it, his eyes closed.
Sergeant Johnson
Johnson stood there amazed. A Zion soldier had just strolled in and taken a seat in the armchair across the room. He had expected more of a confrontation. Walking over to the soldier, he checked to see if he was armed. The boy carried no weapon, no identification except for a name-card. "Akira" he said to himself, noting the age on the card. He shook his head. "Much too young for war", he thought to himself. The boy was spent, his body bruised and battered. Johnson's eyes softened, and he grabbed a blanket and threw it over the boy. No use in throwing him out.
He then walked over to Kasumi. She was still shaking, still noting the bleeding head above her. He quickly grabbed her and moved her over to the other side of the room, far away from the head and bodies. He then took the head and threw it in the other room, not wanting to see it himself. Locking the doors, he then lay down, dead tired.