I grabbed Mindi as she was falling, lowering her to the ground. I applied pressure to the wound, my father ran over, him being a doctor. He pushed my hands off the wound,
"Get that asshole." He said to me.
"I can't I have to stay with her." I said, grabbing her hand. She looked directly into my eyes.
"I have a few hours, go get the cunt." She said, smiling. I smiled back, bending down and kissing her lips, passion overcame me and I felt as if the whole world had just froze around me. I felt tears sliding out of my eyes and onto her cheek. She broke the kiss,
"I'll be fine." She said, rubbing my hand, "get him!" she finished. I walked over to one of the goons, pulling a Glock 39, checking the magazine before scavenging more from the dead bodies. I took off down the street, looking back one more time at Mindi before turning into the crowd.
"He went that way." A black man's hand pointed, I looked over, it was Mason.
"Thank you sir." I replied,
"No, thank you Hood." He said, smiling. He was pointing to the adjacent building, it look abandoned to me, I walked up to the door, pistol ready, and kicked the door in. I pointed it down the hallway, finger on the trigger and ready to blow his brains out. I heard a creak in the floor boards, a shadow around the corner. I fired a bullet, hitting nothing but the sheetrock.
"Someone's a little trigger happy." Killa7 called. I posted up on the wall, peering around the corner, nothing. I turned the corner, gun at eye level. I heard feet pounding loudly up the stairs, I walked silently, sliding my finger off the trigger and taking the stairs silently. I reached the second floor of this abandoned building, seeing shadows running up the next flight. I followed, climbing up to the roof exit. I stopped before the door, putting my finger back on the trigger and keeping the sights at eye level. I reared up and kicked the door open, the metal door slamming into the brick shelter. I exited the stairway and there was a crack of gunfire as bullets whizzed by my head. I dove behind a ventilation fan, sparks striking as the bullets hit the metal. I flinched with every crack. I heard a click, I came up and fired at him, three shots, one hit his arm the other two missed, barely. He yelped as he dropped behind a ventilation fan. I heard him drop his magazine,
"You have a Glock 39, it has 6 shots, and you fired three. You only have three more." He yelled out to me.
"What do you got? Desert Eagle? That has seven 50 caliber AE bullets; you fired all of them and missed every shot. At least I hit you dumbfuck." I called back. I heard him release the slide after sliding the mag in. I looked through the grating, he was standing, holding the gun one handed.
"You know, that's really not good for your arm." I called.
"What, my arm?" he asked. I stood up, causing him to jump and I fired, the bullet hitting his shoulder, fired again, hitting his leg. He cried out as I fired again bullet passing through his raising hand. He dropped the powerful hand gun and fall backwards, crying out in immense pain. I holstered the Glock, walking over and kicking his DE over the side of the building. I dragged him off the ground, punching him across the face; he drove his fist into my stomach as hard as he could. I stumbled back and he got up. He limped over to me, grabbing me by the hood and slamming my face into the fan grating. I was dazed as he removed the fans grating, grabbing my head and forcing it towards the rapidly pinning fan. My hood hit it, cutting a large chunk off. My eyes went wide as I tried to force back, finally I but my feet to the fan encasement and kicked off, pushing him backwards and crushing his arm against the second fan. I got up, ducking under a left hook and hitting him with a right, ducking a right hook and delivering a left. He sent a kick at me, I caught his leg, driving my elbow into it and delivering a crushing uppercut. He was stumbling towards the edge of the building. I grabbed him just as he would have stepped off, but I threw him backwards into the corner of the fan. He kneeled there for a second, I walked over to him, he made me jump as he drove his foot backwards into my stomach. I doubled over and he stood over me, smiling, I kicked him in the crotch, causing him to scream out loudly as I used both feet to push him back and off his feet. He hit the ground and I rolled to my feet, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him up. I led him to the side of the building. Just then, Marcus and Mason broke through the door, guns raised.
"Don't throw him Kyle." Marcus said, I looked at him.
"I'm assuming you know Mason." I said.
"Yes Kyle, I knew that day you kicked the shit out of Frankie. Same fighting style. Give him to us." he said, gun pointed at Killa7, not me.
"You know I won't throw him." I said. I started dragging him over to Mason when he pushed off me, drawing a PPK from his waistband. He fired, hitting Mason in the chest, along with Marcus, turning and firing at me, hitting my arm, narrowly missing the bone. I hit the ground, drawing the Glock out and firing, hitting him in the ribs. He dropped the gun and hit the ground, wheezing. Mason and Marcus both groaned as they sat up, picking the .32 auto rounds out of their vests.
"Cocksucker!" Mason said, kicking Killa7 in the leg. I holstered the Glock, this time for the last time.