Choose your weapon
I slowly circled around the immobile man in black. I was
afraid. Of course I was afraid. This was hardly a man. More of a force. Like the
wind or thunder. A force I was a fool to meddle with. I doubt even I, the great
Ehlana Cain could match his skills of destruction.
I cant win this unless he runs out of bullets before me, I thought. He was
better and I was ready to accept that. Doesn't mean I like it though. I recall
earlier saying to the man who attacked me on the way in that fear was my ally
and didn't betray me.
Well not this time.
This time fear was going to drag me down to the pits of hell where people like
me belong.
But then so does he.
The man in black allowed his gaze to follow my every movement, drinking them in
like a rare wine. But these weren't the eyes of a drunk or a killer. They were
but the eyes of a predator. Cold, calculating, cruel.
'Draw,' he commanded his voice devoid of emotion, his eyes a window to his
blackened soul.
'Draw!'
That word echoed through both my mind and the gargantuan
warehouse that
surrounded us.
So I drew my twin silver Berettas and then assumed the stance that I had gained
through vigorous training in gun kata.
He too took out his golden Sistema pistols. and assumed his own stance.
Then my tactical mindset took over.
There's a 70% chance of dying in here. Not the best odds. If I waste time
anticipating his moves, he shoots first I wont have time to dodge the bullet,
Ill be distracted...then I'm dead. But if I don't then I could be wandering
through the fight aimlessly wasting bullets. And then what if I shoot first?
There's an even chance he dies and I walk free. But...it also gives him a chance
to dodge THEN take me out. Usually the person to shoot first dies first.
But...if I time it right...just right.
Then in one sudden moment we both FIRED!
The enemy bullets hit the place my body was a second ago. I ran down a corridor
of shelves, my boots padding loudly on the filthy, cold floor.
I turn my head quickly as I see the man running on the other side of the shelf
to my right. His guns were trained on me.
Shit...
I lifted mine just in time. We fired hoping the bullets would hit each other.
Unfortunately they hit everything but us two humans.
I managed to overtake him and reach the end of the shelves. I took a deep
breath...then spun round to his side of the shelf. Firing purely on impulse was
stupid as when my eyes met the corridor, he wasn't there. Just a darkened space
Oh...bugger.
I quickly reloaded as I had just wasted two magazines on empty space and looked
around.
BANG.
Pure battle instinct saved my life as I inclined my head in time to have the
bullet only graze my cheek. Oh no...he drew first blood. He's at a predatory
advantage.
I knew where that bullet was from. He was above me.
But instead of looking up at my foe from his place on the shelf tops, I did the
wise thing and pencil rolled along an empty shelf and listened. If I change my
place on this chessboard so must he. That's the rules of one-on-one combat
I heard him scurrying to see where I was, so I fired at his general direction
then rolled again. A distraction to give him a false sense of my whereabouts. As
i came out of the roll I jumped the bottom shelf and climbed up. I was nearly at
the top when I felt my shelf rattle from his footsteps right above me.
Readying myself I PULLED on the supporting edge.
Flipping as my body lurched up, my feet missed his body but I landed on the vast
shelf top.
I swiped with my right gun and jabbed with my left, firing both.
He used his left gun to lock against my right, interrupting my arc. In the same
instance he moved his body slightly, avoiding the left-born bullet.
Then we both slammed our free guns together. They clanged and the vibrations
jolted and weakened my wrist making me hiss. If the collision hurt him he didn't
show it. His foot darted out and hit me square in the gut, pushing me back. We
then both twisted and the barrels of my left gun and his right met. I scowled as
did he and we both fired.
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