November 3rd, 5:14.
Dec. 1st, 2006 01:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
secret_historyRandhir nearly dropped his third magazine in a row, lunged after it and managed to keep hold of it. He was shooting as fast as he could manage, but many if not most of his shots were going wild, striking furniture and walls and occasionally a zombie. He thought he might have killed one or maybe two (the last one he wasn’t as sure of), but he knew that he was basically useless with this weapon, surrounded by chaos and panic and disorder. Michaela was having better success than him, and he thought that if perhaps Kurt had survived, they might have had a fighting chance against the teeming mob, but both Kurt and Marco had soon found themselves surrounded by zombies, and now only Marco still stood, keeping the creatures at bay with the splintered remains of his rifle.
Randhir snapped the magazine into place and raised the rifle, his shoulder beginning to feel a bit bruised from the recoil, minimal though it might be. Maybe he was holding it wrong: he seemed to recall that this kind of rifle was meant to have very little recoil. He heard screams from all around him now, and looking over toward the back of the store he saw Marlene struggling with a hulking figure nearly twice her weight, her arm a bright red mess of blood. A few paces behind her Kitty was crawling along on the floor as fast as she could manage, her face streaked with tears. A moment later Marlene’s form went limp, and the zombie dropped her like a sack of potatoes, staring blindly after the little girl’s retreating form.
There was no time to lose. Randhir brought the gun to his shoulder, forcing himself to control his breathing, to aim properly with the sights, to aim slightly lower than the forehead. That thing was going to go after Kitty next, and he was damned if he was going to let Marlene’s sacrifice be in vain. In spite of himself he jerked up, startled, when the zombie shambled forward into the light, revealing the features of Chuck Daniels. As a result, his first bullet missed entirely. He forced himself once more to concentrate, to ignore the terrible fear gnawing at his belly like a thousand tiny crabs, and fired again, still with no visible result. Fearful that he’d aimed too high, he lowered his sights, only to see his bullet catch Chuck in the shoulder. Too far to the right, then, and the right height. Kitty had run out of places to run to, and what remained of Chuck was advancing inexorably toward her, until Randhir’s fourth and fifth bullets caught him in his gaping mouth, ripping out through the back of his head in a spray of bone and gristle.
The creature that had once been Chuck Daniels crumpled to the ground like a rag doll, and Randhir dashed toward where Kitty was crouched, looking around wildly for an escape route. He had to jump over the corpse to get to the girl, and as he did so a metallic glint caught his eye. With a look around to make sure nothing was coming after him, he paused to examined it: it was a key, snagged by its holder on the man’s watch. A car key —the automatic starter was unmistakeable. His heart gave a painful lurch in his chest: there was a way out! He snatched at the key, and shoved it in his coat pocket.
“Kitty! Grab my hand! Come on!”
He grabbed her outstretched hand and hauled her bodily into the air, setting her on her feet and dragging her behind him, back the way he’d come. She wouldn’t be able to keep up if they tried to run, he knew. The only way to keep her alive would be for one of them to carry her, so he took another precious few seconds to hoist her onto his back.
“Mickey! We have to go now!”
Randhir snapped the magazine into place and raised the rifle, his shoulder beginning to feel a bit bruised from the recoil, minimal though it might be. Maybe he was holding it wrong: he seemed to recall that this kind of rifle was meant to have very little recoil. He heard screams from all around him now, and looking over toward the back of the store he saw Marlene struggling with a hulking figure nearly twice her weight, her arm a bright red mess of blood. A few paces behind her Kitty was crawling along on the floor as fast as she could manage, her face streaked with tears. A moment later Marlene’s form went limp, and the zombie dropped her like a sack of potatoes, staring blindly after the little girl’s retreating form.
There was no time to lose. Randhir brought the gun to his shoulder, forcing himself to control his breathing, to aim properly with the sights, to aim slightly lower than the forehead. That thing was going to go after Kitty next, and he was damned if he was going to let Marlene’s sacrifice be in vain. In spite of himself he jerked up, startled, when the zombie shambled forward into the light, revealing the features of Chuck Daniels. As a result, his first bullet missed entirely. He forced himself once more to concentrate, to ignore the terrible fear gnawing at his belly like a thousand tiny crabs, and fired again, still with no visible result. Fearful that he’d aimed too high, he lowered his sights, only to see his bullet catch Chuck in the shoulder. Too far to the right, then, and the right height. Kitty had run out of places to run to, and what remained of Chuck was advancing inexorably toward her, until Randhir’s fourth and fifth bullets caught him in his gaping mouth, ripping out through the back of his head in a spray of bone and gristle.
The creature that had once been Chuck Daniels crumpled to the ground like a rag doll, and Randhir dashed toward where Kitty was crouched, looking around wildly for an escape route. He had to jump over the corpse to get to the girl, and as he did so a metallic glint caught his eye. With a look around to make sure nothing was coming after him, he paused to examined it: it was a key, snagged by its holder on the man’s watch. A car key —the automatic starter was unmistakeable. His heart gave a painful lurch in his chest: there was a way out! He snatched at the key, and shoved it in his coat pocket.
“Kitty! Grab my hand! Come on!”
He grabbed her outstretched hand and hauled her bodily into the air, setting her on her feet and dragging her behind him, back the way he’d come. She wouldn’t be able to keep up if they tried to run, he knew. The only way to keep her alive would be for one of them to carry her, so he took another precious few seconds to hoist her onto his back.
“Mickey! We have to go now!”
