P.U.R.P.L.E.

Chapter Five – Sentry Behind, Sniper ahead

Scout was hit with a horrifying thought, what if that woman with the red cowl was also here? Would she be hunting him as well? And if so, would he be stabbed in the back without even a chance to defend himself? Scout didn't like the idea at all.
But if she was behind him, as he was paranoid she was, then what was ahead that he might also not like to run into? Scout came across a square hole in the floor; it was the end of the tunnel complex. There were no other ways out that he could find. The periodic beeping seemed to originate just below him, Scout thought he could see a little laser light peering back and forth.
Scout was only thinking along the lines of "This sucks!" for a moment, because then he remembered his specialty, and that was athletics. Although he was the smallest little runt around he was also the fastest runner and highest jumper. Without further ado Scout vaulted down the hole, catching sight before he landed of a makeshift turret-looking thing.
It faced him and flashed it's light. Without a moment to spare Scout booked it away, little bolt projectiles fast on his heels. In fact if he were a smidgen slower then he would be turned into sausage by the repeated fire of that little sentry gun. Scout did really not like that Engineer, he was much to good for his own good, if you catch my drift.
It seemed the turret was guarding something, and that something was sitting on the pedestal in front of him. It was his stolen Ball! He wasn't sure why they wanted it but as he nabbed it he felt more pleased then he had been as far back as he could remember. Ball, bat and most importantly pistol in hand he headed back toward the turret, seeing it but it not seeing him. From his spot outside of it's range he shot it with a round of his pistol, destroying it.
Pleased, Scout took to the tunnels, buzzing past a drunken man saying, "I'm a freakin' blur!" The drunken man merely waved and took another draught from his bottle. His trepidation was interrupted by a gush of yellow fluid, the speedy youth halted. Realizing what it was he exclaimed, "Uhhg!" backing up in disgust just in time to avoid a bullet hole adjacent to where his head was a second before.
There was a freakin' sniper up ahead! Thoughts buzzed through his head, he knew he could never edge that marksman like he did the sentry earlier. But something did tweak in his memory, the ball he had worked so hard to retrieve had a habit of returning to his pocket no matter how many times he lost it. Was this mere coincidence? He'd have to test his theory.
When it came to launching his ball he knew he would never miss, so he steeled himself, ducked from around the corner, threw up, and batted his ball to where the sniper was busy refilling his nasty-jar. The ball hit him in the jaw and knocked him over, likely unconscious. Scout exclaimed an enthusiastic, "Bonk!" before taking off again. In ten seconds he felt his pocket. He was right, the ball had returned. What magic is this?
Regardless, climbing the stairs up to where the sniper was knocked out the youth saw the sky through an open window, he had almost made it outside of the fort.