Denise was down- crying and sobbing on her face on the narrow walk-way. Cleona was shouting in panic at the others- “Get back! Get back!”
Jenny didn’t have that option- she’d dropped one shooter, was sure she’d clipped the one that got Denise- had pushed forwards past her fallen friend and got right to the end of the walkway when another shooter had popped out of cover and plugged her right in the belly. The pain and the shock of it made her squeal like a piglet, made her drop her weapon and press both her hands to her midriff.
The strongest emotion was outrage: Outrage that the bitches defending this fucking stupid facility just weren’t giving up; outrage that they’d been told the mission would be easy, when it had turned out to be a bloody slaughter; outrage that her two-hundred Pound silk blouse had a smouldering hole ripped in it and was soaked through with blood; outrage that someone had hurt her, and she wasn’t going to be able to get them back…
She fell to her knees with a jarring bump, still pressing her hands to her belly. She screamed again- a long, low, ragged-edged moan. It felt like something was on fire inside her belly; a fierce, raging, roiling pain worse than anything she’d ever known before. She could hear Cleona’s retreating heels, hear the snap of her pistol still firing defiantly as she fled.
The outrage began to ebb- replaced by fear.
Beerman
2025-03-24 17:31:48 +0000 UTC