lapsus_deus (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} lapsus_deus) wrote,@ 2005-03-09 21:58:00 |
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He Looked Like Me
I have killed. I did what I condemned so many others for doing. I shot another human being.
The troublemakers came back with a few others. They were going to where the food had just been planted. They were looking for people who had food.
They wanted to be the source on food, they knew that supplying food meant power, but it would mean that we wouldn't be able to barter for enough. Food was our greatest commodity, what else could we spend?
I was in one of the rooms on the abandoned hotel delivering the MREs to the pregnant woman, she's about 6 months along and had been moved there for comfort, the shelter they had was particularly unpleasant. I heard shouting and saw outsiders.
They were lighting torches and were going to burn the old supermarket. A handful of the locals were getting between them and the food and there was shouting and stone throwing.
I bolted downstairs. I watched through one of the broken first floor windows, and I took the safety off. I saw Marci among the villagers; I didn't even know she was in town. She flicked her sword out of the scabbard like I'd seen samurai in movies do.
Of course, being the best armed meant that two of the outsiders teamed up and started approaching, they both had knives and they looked mad. Like I would, they clearly assumed that she didn't know how to use a sword in the modern day and that it must be a show piece, but I knew from personal experience the swords were sharp enough to cut wood. I never carried mine but maybe I should. They both went to cut her at once, so she ran past, with them on her right, putting her target between herself and the second attacker, and gave a slice.
I've never seen a human being open up like that, it was vile and messy and blood had already pooled at his feet when he hit the ground. She had run maybe ten feet past her target when she turned, using two fingers to clean the blade. One of the villagers started swearing and everybody stopped what they were doing to stare.
One of the outsiders was watching from behind another building and started sneaking up behind Marci and the locals, bringing a handgun out of his coat silently. Marci was breathing heavily and looking stunned by what she had done, apparently by reflex (I wonder now if she could do it again if she wanted to).
I didn't have the where-with-all to shout and warn the villagers, particularly Marci because she was the only person I knew carried guns. I did what I could, I took aim, got scared, grit my teeth, and I fired. I was expecting him to be sent up into the air, considering the caliber of my weapon, but his far leg just kicked out from under him and he dropped, firing an un-aimed round. He seemed distracted enough by the injury to his thigh that he forgot to draw back the hammer on his revolver to fire again.
Like a hibachi chef, Marci had her sword away and a gun in each hand, one pointed at the downed man with the gun and one, to my horror at me. She looked at me with the look of somebody ready to kill and it took her a moment to realize that I was not a threat to her. A moment that took forever to me, and she turned, pointing her spare weapon at the man with a knife that she had not opened up a few moments earlier. A third man took off running, realizing that he didn't have a gun pointed at him and a local hit him in the face with a rock he needed two hands to lift over his head.
When the man I had shot figured out he needed to pull back the hammer, and reached to do so, Marci opened fire. She was shooting with her off hand and only hit him in the shoulder after emptying the entire magazine and finally shooting him in the shoulder with the other gun. When she turned to shoot at him, the man with the knife realized his opportunity and dove forward, knifing her in the leg before the villagers took to beating him to death.
There was only one left but he took off running when I came out of hiding pointing my gun at him and screaming blind rage. I chased after him a few blocks in order to scare him out of town and fired a few rounds into the air.
When I walked back I found that Marci had managed to get to the well to wash her injury and was bandaging it herself with the torn pant leg. I told one of the locals to drive behind me on the scooter and threw him the keys since I didn't want to leave it in town without Marci driving it home. He struggled to keep up as I drove back to the shelter. I was going to carry Marci down the steps but she graciously declined and hobbled down on her own, I got her the medical kit, wishing I had the stuff for stitches, and she taped on gauze pads tied the pants leg on over top of it to keep pressure on the wound.
She took two tabs of Oxycodone and a shot of Scotch and went to "sleep it off."
Our guest was hungry so I gave him an MRE and we had a very minimal conversation and he introduced himself as David Hurst and he was full of questions about the shelter and the chickens and Marci most of all but I didn't feel like talking, or eating. He's down sleeping now, I don't feel like doing that either. I have a lot I need to think about.
I have killed. I did what I condemned so many others for doing. I shot another human being.
The troublemakers came back with a few others. They were going to where the food had just been planted. They were looking for people who had food.
They wanted to be the source on food, they knew that supplying food meant power, but it would mean that we wouldn't be able to barter for enough. Food was our greatest commodity, what else could we spend?
I was in one of the rooms on the abandoned hotel delivering the MREs to the pregnant woman, she's about 6 months along and had been moved there for comfort, the shelter they had was particularly unpleasant. I heard shouting and saw outsiders.
They were lighting torches and were going to burn the old supermarket. A handful of the locals were getting between them and the food and there was shouting and stone throwing.
I bolted downstairs. I watched through one of the broken first floor windows, and I took the safety off. I saw Marci among the villagers; I didn't even know she was in town. She flicked her sword out of the scabbard like I'd seen samurai in movies do.
Of course, being the best armed meant that two of the outsiders teamed up and started approaching, they both had knives and they looked mad. Like I would, they clearly assumed that she didn't know how to use a sword in the modern day and that it must be a show piece, but I knew from personal experience the swords were sharp enough to cut wood. I never carried mine but maybe I should. They both went to cut her at once, so she ran past, with them on her right, putting her target between herself and the second attacker, and gave a slice.
I've never seen a human being open up like that, it was vile and messy and blood had already pooled at his feet when he hit the ground. She had run maybe ten feet past her target when she turned, using two fingers to clean the blade. One of the villagers started swearing and everybody stopped what they were doing to stare.
One of the outsiders was watching from behind another building and started sneaking up behind Marci and the locals, bringing a handgun out of his coat silently. Marci was breathing heavily and looking stunned by what she had done, apparently by reflex (I wonder now if she could do it again if she wanted to).
I didn't have the where-with-all to shout and warn the villagers, particularly Marci because she was the only person I knew carried guns. I did what I could, I took aim, got scared, grit my teeth, and I fired. I was expecting him to be sent up into the air, considering the caliber of my weapon, but his far leg just kicked out from under him and he dropped, firing an un-aimed round. He seemed distracted enough by the injury to his thigh that he forgot to draw back the hammer on his revolver to fire again.
Like a hibachi chef, Marci had her sword away and a gun in each hand, one pointed at the downed man with the gun and one, to my horror at me. She looked at me with the look of somebody ready to kill and it took her a moment to realize that I was not a threat to her. A moment that took forever to me, and she turned, pointing her spare weapon at the man with a knife that she had not opened up a few moments earlier. A third man took off running, realizing that he didn't have a gun pointed at him and a local hit him in the face with a rock he needed two hands to lift over his head.
When the man I had shot figured out he needed to pull back the hammer, and reached to do so, Marci opened fire. She was shooting with her off hand and only hit him in the shoulder after emptying the entire magazine and finally shooting him in the shoulder with the other gun. When she turned to shoot at him, the man with the knife realized his opportunity and dove forward, knifing her in the leg before the villagers took to beating him to death.
There was only one left but he took off running when I came out of hiding pointing my gun at him and screaming blind rage. I chased after him a few blocks in order to scare him out of town and fired a few rounds into the air.
When I walked back I found that Marci had managed to get to the well to wash her injury and was bandaging it herself with the torn pant leg. I told one of the locals to drive behind me on the scooter and threw him the keys since I didn't want to leave it in town without Marci driving it home. He struggled to keep up as I drove back to the shelter. I was going to carry Marci down the steps but she graciously declined and hobbled down on her own, I got her the medical kit, wishing I had the stuff for stitches, and she taped on gauze pads tied the pants leg on over top of it to keep pressure on the wound.
She took two tabs of Oxycodone and a shot of Scotch and went to "sleep it off."
Our guest was hungry so I gave him an MRE and we had a very minimal conversation and he introduced himself as David Hurst and he was full of questions about the shelter and the chickens and Marci most of all but I didn't feel like talking, or eating. He's down sleeping now, I don't feel like doing that either. I have a lot I need to think about.
