Post by Admin on May 4, 2015 0:33:56 GMT
Hope you don't mind the quick switch of narration in the middle (nothing big there). Still potty mouth alert. 
And I hope I can temporarily and hardly fill the gap that you are/were feeling about running out of fan fictions to read.
I tried to ignore my many fears and focused on the desolate road ahead. The glock I had once thought would protect me from any danger found in this city, now seemed impossibly useless against the shadows around us. But the man two steps ahead of me remained calm. He kept a steady pace, and so did I. Or at least I tried.
We crossed the street, turned around a block, and continued down Friendly Street. I ignored the beauty of the explosive flashes in the distance. I only saw potential for danger and its by-product, fear. As the minutes of strolling down the street ticked on and we saw nothing and heard nothing unusual, the more and more I became paranoid of somebody watching.
There were very few signs of life, nobody else crossed us on the side of the open road. Anyone still residing on these avenues were probably alone in their rooms and shelters, huddled up with what meager supplies they had. Most had no family left.
In war, not everyone is a soldier... That thought seems to fit the moment, I spoke with myself.
As we crossed street after lonely street I saw normal things. I saw faded, dark paint covering one of the building entrances, I HAVE A GUN. It looked like no one was home now.
We passed a rotting stuffed animal lying dead on the sidewalk. Its stuffing was spilled onto the concrete, and I almost stepped in a big pile. Too bad it amounted to about 4 seconds of burning material. Then I wondered why it was there in the first place.
I checked the sky again. The moon and the stars were still there.
No real threats yet. Would our trip really go completely smoothly?
However, almost three miles away from home, we came to a cross between three roads. As we were about to cross into the next street on our route, Leon suddenly stopped and rose a hand, surprising Myra and I to a halt with him. He pointed to the street sign. In the dim light, my adjusted eyes could make out bright red, spray painted words over the original letters.
SNIPER STREET BEWARE
Wordlessly, the three of us crossed to the second road instead. This was our first detour. Sniper Street was a common name for a hot spot of cowardly soldiers that sniped most, if not all, of those who passed through. I don’t know why exactly, but that’s what they did.
As a matter of fact, about three months ago, I’d seen a man’s head disappear as he ran into random street that had a sign similar to this one. I don’t know why the idiot did it. All I remembered was Leon had hurried me along. We were going to visit the Robinsons to trade at the time.
According to the map that Leon took back out as we went on our merry way, this new way would lead us to a relatively easy way around the Sniper Street. We were good.
A house burned intensely, but silently, in a nearby block, casting bits of shadow and illuminated pavement here and there. The only thing I could sense of its existence was a bright, distant, and dancing light. I couldn’t hear the sound of burning from here.
As I walked, transfixed by the distant fire, Leon made the first, hushed sound since we’d left the house, “Shit.”
My eyes turned to the sidewalk ahead of us, down the rows of apartments on this road, and saw impending danger. Less than a hundred meters away, several men strode in our direction. As they drew nearer to us and we drew nearer to them, I could see each of them, about five or six in number, wore dark jackets and hid their faces with long hoods. Revelation Radicals or Hoods or maybe both.
But for some ungodly reason, Leon said nothing else and continued toward them. Was he really expecting us to be able to handle this? I clutched the gun even tighter than before. I slid into place beside Leon and Myra followed behind us. Our own meager formation.
There was no turning around for us, and there was no stopping either. Whether they were or weren’t intending to attack us, they were still coming towards us, not backing down. If we turned and ran, they would probably give chase like hunting lions (or shoot us if they had any firearms). It was important to keep up a strong front, Leon had said to me. Whatever that amounted to.
Mark had been falling asleep on the apartment’s trashy floor when Scott had spotted three idiots walking down the street. Then one by one, Mark and his older hooded brothers left their apartment to hunt.
Dumb asses tricked by the fake sniper alert sign. People in this city are way too easy to trick, thought Mark smugly as he and his fellow men approached the three stupid strangers. They were 50 meters away. No backing down for either of them.
Mark clutched his fire axe tightly and pulled his dark and tattered hood down closer over his eyes. Even he had to admit to himself, he was scared of dying, no matter how slim a chance that was. He had to convince himself that his brothers would never let him get hurt. They were the predators. That gave him confidence.
And seeing that high school girl behind the two scrawny guys made his mouth water in anticipation. Whether from appetite or from lust, he didn’t know.
Suddenly, we were right in front of them. Both of our groups slowed to a stop and stared at each other. No one said anything for a while. There was an awkward moment because neither of us knew what the others’ intent was, so we just stood in the dark. Or maybe this was just a tactic, waiting for us to speak or let our guard down or something. Our two guns were out to see, a warning. But they seemingly had nothing in their hands.
Leon spoke in a deeper voice, “We’re passing through.”
One hooded figure at the front of the small crowd answered, “No you’re not. You’ve stopped.”
Leon said slowly, “Okay then. We have guns.”
The same one spoke again, “Okay. We have one or two as well. And sharp things.”
Dang sharp things!
But, of course, I didn’t think anything sarcastic at that moment. At that particular moment, I was busy slowly pissing myself. I was trying to keep it calm, but couldn’t stop thinking about our poor odds.
Several seconds passed. Are they considering backing down?
Then one of them threw his hand out, tossing something at us, causing me and even Leon to flinch away.
He’d fainted us, I realized too late, and now the hoods all surged forward. The sound of a rifle firing off caused me to whip around my own weapon as one of the tattered hoods jumped at me with a fire axe raised. Safety already off, I pulled the trigger and out came a bang. He plunged down to the ground. More shots rang out. Yells. I couldn’t look at Leon or Myra.
The second one came at me from right behind the first. I must’ve fired just as he swiped my hand away with his sturdy pipe because suddenly, I had been thrown to the ground. Rattled my teeth. I kicked right back at him. Loud cursing. I brought up my hand. It was empty. I had dropped the gun. Fu-
The man above me drew up his pipe before I could move and brought it down onto my stomach hard, twice, as the other legs surged around me, getting ready to beat my brains onto the concrete with their weapons. Scuffling, another shot, Leon shouting in rage and pain. I couldn’t see anything but a blur as one smashed my hand with his foot and a club was shoved into my ribs. Pain and voices.
“Finish this one!”
“I got the girl!”
Three more, distinct shots in the dark, followed by more yells of pain and alarm. Suddenly, the rain of beatings on me ceased, and the men above me withdrew rather quickly. Running away from something. What?
And now, I could feel the pain of my wounds, and my inhales began coming in ragged breaths. Couldn’t think of much else. Two more shots into the alley that several had retreated to.
“Run off, damned rats!”
A man clad in black stepped into my sight, above me, looking at the cowards that fled into the nearby alleys. My menacing rescuer turned to look at little me with a long, hard gaze. This man... he gave me a strange sense of de ja vu. Then I turned my head and threw up onto the pavement beside me.
“Damned rats…every last one of them. Probably too cowardly to show up again for a while,” I heard the unexplained man mutter as he stepped around me. From where I was curled up, I could see Leon, climbing to his knees on the sidewalk a few feet away. By the light of the still distant, raging fire, his back was turned to me and he was moving with no small dose of pain.
“Leon…” I choked out. I couldn’t believe how much it hurt to talk, and the effort almost made my rib cage burst. Yes, we had gotten owned. In about 15 seconds.
“I’m…I’m good, Ryker,” Leon answered me, summoning his ever strong voice not to waver. His eyes were focused on the mystery rescuer drawing nearer to him but glanced to his left toward the alley and said, “She’s on the ground too…”
‘Is Myra okay?’ I tried to say, but all that managed to come out was a pained moaning sound.
Then I could see the man, wearing black gear and battered military clothing, stepping right up to Leon, standing over him. US army? Or had he stolen that outfit from an American soldier? Who is he? Did he save us just to rob us himself?
For several more seconds, Leon and the man looked at each other with their own defiant gazes.
For some reason, in that moment, I had the image of a lion scaring off the competition for prey. Only we were the meat and that military man was the lion.
But then, the man stuck out his hand. Wordlessly, he was offering a hand to help Leon up. A gesture I had not seen for a long time.
After a brief second of debate with himself, Leon took it and steadily got to his feet. He stumbled a little but regained his composure quickly in front of the man (and probably for my sake). I could see Leon swallow his pain and immediately let go of the helping hand. He stepped a pace back, still staring.
I half expected each of them to size the other up for an hour. I was surprised when the man spoke first again, “Well, you didn’t come off as assholes to me.”
Leon seemed pretty put off by this and answered in his startled state, “Um, what?”
“That’s why I decided to intervene when I did,” the military man said. I thought I saw his eyes flick over to where Myra was laying. Now that Leon wasn’t blocking my vision, I could see her lying motionless. I still couldn’t get up just yet. But I was trying to. “That and the fact that Myra is staying with you. I thought she was long gone. Never checked her house. Never made the time for visiting. Surprising how she’s managed to stay alive. Thank you for that.”
Suddenly, I was starting to get the impression that this guy was at least a little crazy. Did he just thank us? And he knew Myra? We hadn't said her name! And then he strode over to Myra’s body. Leon followed him, limping a bit and spouting questions.
“Excuse me, but who are you? What are… are you part of the military? You know Myra too?” Leon spoke with growing confusion and annoyance at the man’s peculiar lack of answers.
He kneeled next to Myra, checked her pulse I guess. I couldn’t see everything from my vantage point, and I was still busy getting up, or trying to.
“Was part of the military. Now I’ve lost my men and gained their weapons. No place I need to be since there’s nothing left to fight for or with,” he said getting up from her side. “She’s unconscious, will come out of it soon enough. Good thing they didn’t manage to drag her away and rape her. Speaking of rape, do you know why this war is so much like the Bosnian War in Europe?”
This man was either toying with us (with incredible acting skill and kindness) or had lost some screws in recent bombings.
The man’s voice and expression that I could see from where I laid showed no humor. He expected an answer.
“No…sir,” Leon answered. He didn’t know. We didn’t care about the trivia question, just the strange man who was asking it.
“Mass rape. Many factions using genocidal rape as a weapon against the others. Kind of effective and more pleasurable than other coordinated efforts that the militias make, but doesn’t really help the population problems we had before the war. Results in a lot of unwanted pregnancies when it’s all said and done. Increases STD’s no doubt…” the man said, as if chatting about the recent weather at a dinner party, and glanced back at Myra lying at their feet. “US never ordered us soldiers to do anything as…morally filthy as that stuff when I was working. But who knows. Maybe since I’ve retired, they’ve implemented more savage tactics. Actually, you know what, congress isn’t organized enough for giving out military orders anymore. Tactics are beyond Washington. Anyways, moral of the story, good thing I was able to get them to drop Myra. Otherwise they’d probably do the typical-”
“Pardon, but what’s your name?” Leon interrupted the man’s tangent. I saw the man’s face twitch ever so slightly. “Thank you for helping us out and all, but the time for talking is later… Don’t you think we should be getting away from –“
The butt of the man’s hand gun came down on Leon’s face with a hard clack, and suddenly, he clutching at the side of his head. A knee went directly into Leon’s nose, sending him clumsily sprawling to the ground. Leon was bleeding even more now.
“Leon!” I cried, trying in vain to stand. Doubling over on the ground.
“My name, good man, is Commander Nixon. And I would like it if you would be so kind as to give me your name before you go trying to interrogate me,” the quickly hostile man answered almost calmly. “I also appreciate the sir you added earlier. Keep it that way.”
Leon was scrambling to get back on his feet, being the determined idiot he was, but Nixon just kicked him in the side of the stomach, sending him right back down. Gone was the helping hand a second ago. Now, this new man, Nixon, was an equally crazy but much more hostile commander, disciplining a disrespectful civilian.
And I hope I can temporarily and hardly fill the gap that you are/were feeling about running out of fan fictions to read.I tried to ignore my many fears and focused on the desolate road ahead. The glock I had once thought would protect me from any danger found in this city, now seemed impossibly useless against the shadows around us. But the man two steps ahead of me remained calm. He kept a steady pace, and so did I. Or at least I tried.
We crossed the street, turned around a block, and continued down Friendly Street. I ignored the beauty of the explosive flashes in the distance. I only saw potential for danger and its by-product, fear. As the minutes of strolling down the street ticked on and we saw nothing and heard nothing unusual, the more and more I became paranoid of somebody watching.
There were very few signs of life, nobody else crossed us on the side of the open road. Anyone still residing on these avenues were probably alone in their rooms and shelters, huddled up with what meager supplies they had. Most had no family left.
In war, not everyone is a soldier... That thought seems to fit the moment, I spoke with myself.
As we crossed street after lonely street I saw normal things. I saw faded, dark paint covering one of the building entrances, I HAVE A GUN. It looked like no one was home now.
We passed a rotting stuffed animal lying dead on the sidewalk. Its stuffing was spilled onto the concrete, and I almost stepped in a big pile. Too bad it amounted to about 4 seconds of burning material. Then I wondered why it was there in the first place.
I checked the sky again. The moon and the stars were still there.
No real threats yet. Would our trip really go completely smoothly?
However, almost three miles away from home, we came to a cross between three roads. As we were about to cross into the next street on our route, Leon suddenly stopped and rose a hand, surprising Myra and I to a halt with him. He pointed to the street sign. In the dim light, my adjusted eyes could make out bright red, spray painted words over the original letters.
SNIPER STREET BEWARE
Wordlessly, the three of us crossed to the second road instead. This was our first detour. Sniper Street was a common name for a hot spot of cowardly soldiers that sniped most, if not all, of those who passed through. I don’t know why exactly, but that’s what they did.
As a matter of fact, about three months ago, I’d seen a man’s head disappear as he ran into random street that had a sign similar to this one. I don’t know why the idiot did it. All I remembered was Leon had hurried me along. We were going to visit the Robinsons to trade at the time.
According to the map that Leon took back out as we went on our merry way, this new way would lead us to a relatively easy way around the Sniper Street. We were good.
A house burned intensely, but silently, in a nearby block, casting bits of shadow and illuminated pavement here and there. The only thing I could sense of its existence was a bright, distant, and dancing light. I couldn’t hear the sound of burning from here.
As I walked, transfixed by the distant fire, Leon made the first, hushed sound since we’d left the house, “Shit.”
My eyes turned to the sidewalk ahead of us, down the rows of apartments on this road, and saw impending danger. Less than a hundred meters away, several men strode in our direction. As they drew nearer to us and we drew nearer to them, I could see each of them, about five or six in number, wore dark jackets and hid their faces with long hoods. Revelation Radicals or Hoods or maybe both.
But for some ungodly reason, Leon said nothing else and continued toward them. Was he really expecting us to be able to handle this? I clutched the gun even tighter than before. I slid into place beside Leon and Myra followed behind us. Our own meager formation.
There was no turning around for us, and there was no stopping either. Whether they were or weren’t intending to attack us, they were still coming towards us, not backing down. If we turned and ran, they would probably give chase like hunting lions (or shoot us if they had any firearms). It was important to keep up a strong front, Leon had said to me. Whatever that amounted to.
Mark had been falling asleep on the apartment’s trashy floor when Scott had spotted three idiots walking down the street. Then one by one, Mark and his older hooded brothers left their apartment to hunt.
Dumb asses tricked by the fake sniper alert sign. People in this city are way too easy to trick, thought Mark smugly as he and his fellow men approached the three stupid strangers. They were 50 meters away. No backing down for either of them.
Mark clutched his fire axe tightly and pulled his dark and tattered hood down closer over his eyes. Even he had to admit to himself, he was scared of dying, no matter how slim a chance that was. He had to convince himself that his brothers would never let him get hurt. They were the predators. That gave him confidence.
And seeing that high school girl behind the two scrawny guys made his mouth water in anticipation. Whether from appetite or from lust, he didn’t know.
Suddenly, we were right in front of them. Both of our groups slowed to a stop and stared at each other. No one said anything for a while. There was an awkward moment because neither of us knew what the others’ intent was, so we just stood in the dark. Or maybe this was just a tactic, waiting for us to speak or let our guard down or something. Our two guns were out to see, a warning. But they seemingly had nothing in their hands.
Leon spoke in a deeper voice, “We’re passing through.”
One hooded figure at the front of the small crowd answered, “No you’re not. You’ve stopped.”
Leon said slowly, “Okay then. We have guns.”
The same one spoke again, “Okay. We have one or two as well. And sharp things.”
Dang sharp things!
But, of course, I didn’t think anything sarcastic at that moment. At that particular moment, I was busy slowly pissing myself. I was trying to keep it calm, but couldn’t stop thinking about our poor odds.
Several seconds passed. Are they considering backing down?
Then one of them threw his hand out, tossing something at us, causing me and even Leon to flinch away.
He’d fainted us, I realized too late, and now the hoods all surged forward. The sound of a rifle firing off caused me to whip around my own weapon as one of the tattered hoods jumped at me with a fire axe raised. Safety already off, I pulled the trigger and out came a bang. He plunged down to the ground. More shots rang out. Yells. I couldn’t look at Leon or Myra.
The second one came at me from right behind the first. I must’ve fired just as he swiped my hand away with his sturdy pipe because suddenly, I had been thrown to the ground. Rattled my teeth. I kicked right back at him. Loud cursing. I brought up my hand. It was empty. I had dropped the gun. Fu-
The man above me drew up his pipe before I could move and brought it down onto my stomach hard, twice, as the other legs surged around me, getting ready to beat my brains onto the concrete with their weapons. Scuffling, another shot, Leon shouting in rage and pain. I couldn’t see anything but a blur as one smashed my hand with his foot and a club was shoved into my ribs. Pain and voices.
“Finish this one!”
“I got the girl!”
Three more, distinct shots in the dark, followed by more yells of pain and alarm. Suddenly, the rain of beatings on me ceased, and the men above me withdrew rather quickly. Running away from something. What?
And now, I could feel the pain of my wounds, and my inhales began coming in ragged breaths. Couldn’t think of much else. Two more shots into the alley that several had retreated to.
“Run off, damned rats!”
A man clad in black stepped into my sight, above me, looking at the cowards that fled into the nearby alleys. My menacing rescuer turned to look at little me with a long, hard gaze. This man... he gave me a strange sense of de ja vu. Then I turned my head and threw up onto the pavement beside me.
“Damned rats…every last one of them. Probably too cowardly to show up again for a while,” I heard the unexplained man mutter as he stepped around me. From where I was curled up, I could see Leon, climbing to his knees on the sidewalk a few feet away. By the light of the still distant, raging fire, his back was turned to me and he was moving with no small dose of pain.
“Leon…” I choked out. I couldn’t believe how much it hurt to talk, and the effort almost made my rib cage burst. Yes, we had gotten owned. In about 15 seconds.
“I’m…I’m good, Ryker,” Leon answered me, summoning his ever strong voice not to waver. His eyes were focused on the mystery rescuer drawing nearer to him but glanced to his left toward the alley and said, “She’s on the ground too…”
‘Is Myra okay?’ I tried to say, but all that managed to come out was a pained moaning sound.
Then I could see the man, wearing black gear and battered military clothing, stepping right up to Leon, standing over him. US army? Or had he stolen that outfit from an American soldier? Who is he? Did he save us just to rob us himself?
For several more seconds, Leon and the man looked at each other with their own defiant gazes.
For some reason, in that moment, I had the image of a lion scaring off the competition for prey. Only we were the meat and that military man was the lion.
But then, the man stuck out his hand. Wordlessly, he was offering a hand to help Leon up. A gesture I had not seen for a long time.
After a brief second of debate with himself, Leon took it and steadily got to his feet. He stumbled a little but regained his composure quickly in front of the man (and probably for my sake). I could see Leon swallow his pain and immediately let go of the helping hand. He stepped a pace back, still staring.
I half expected each of them to size the other up for an hour. I was surprised when the man spoke first again, “Well, you didn’t come off as assholes to me.”
Leon seemed pretty put off by this and answered in his startled state, “Um, what?”
“That’s why I decided to intervene when I did,” the military man said. I thought I saw his eyes flick over to where Myra was laying. Now that Leon wasn’t blocking my vision, I could see her lying motionless. I still couldn’t get up just yet. But I was trying to. “That and the fact that Myra is staying with you. I thought she was long gone. Never checked her house. Never made the time for visiting. Surprising how she’s managed to stay alive. Thank you for that.”
Suddenly, I was starting to get the impression that this guy was at least a little crazy. Did he just thank us? And he knew Myra? We hadn't said her name! And then he strode over to Myra’s body. Leon followed him, limping a bit and spouting questions.
“Excuse me, but who are you? What are… are you part of the military? You know Myra too?” Leon spoke with growing confusion and annoyance at the man’s peculiar lack of answers.
He kneeled next to Myra, checked her pulse I guess. I couldn’t see everything from my vantage point, and I was still busy getting up, or trying to.
“Was part of the military. Now I’ve lost my men and gained their weapons. No place I need to be since there’s nothing left to fight for or with,” he said getting up from her side. “She’s unconscious, will come out of it soon enough. Good thing they didn’t manage to drag her away and rape her. Speaking of rape, do you know why this war is so much like the Bosnian War in Europe?”
This man was either toying with us (with incredible acting skill and kindness) or had lost some screws in recent bombings.
The man’s voice and expression that I could see from where I laid showed no humor. He expected an answer.
“No…sir,” Leon answered. He didn’t know. We didn’t care about the trivia question, just the strange man who was asking it.
“Mass rape. Many factions using genocidal rape as a weapon against the others. Kind of effective and more pleasurable than other coordinated efforts that the militias make, but doesn’t really help the population problems we had before the war. Results in a lot of unwanted pregnancies when it’s all said and done. Increases STD’s no doubt…” the man said, as if chatting about the recent weather at a dinner party, and glanced back at Myra lying at their feet. “US never ordered us soldiers to do anything as…morally filthy as that stuff when I was working. But who knows. Maybe since I’ve retired, they’ve implemented more savage tactics. Actually, you know what, congress isn’t organized enough for giving out military orders anymore. Tactics are beyond Washington. Anyways, moral of the story, good thing I was able to get them to drop Myra. Otherwise they’d probably do the typical-”
“Pardon, but what’s your name?” Leon interrupted the man’s tangent. I saw the man’s face twitch ever so slightly. “Thank you for helping us out and all, but the time for talking is later… Don’t you think we should be getting away from –“
The butt of the man’s hand gun came down on Leon’s face with a hard clack, and suddenly, he clutching at the side of his head. A knee went directly into Leon’s nose, sending him clumsily sprawling to the ground. Leon was bleeding even more now.
“Leon!” I cried, trying in vain to stand. Doubling over on the ground.
“My name, good man, is Commander Nixon. And I would like it if you would be so kind as to give me your name before you go trying to interrogate me,” the quickly hostile man answered almost calmly. “I also appreciate the sir you added earlier. Keep it that way.”
Leon was scrambling to get back on his feet, being the determined idiot he was, but Nixon just kicked him in the side of the stomach, sending him right back down. Gone was the helping hand a second ago. Now, this new man, Nixon, was an equally crazy but much more hostile commander, disciplining a disrespectful civilian.
