“Hold position. I'm coming.”
Witch snorts. He’s coming, he says. She wonders why he’s bothering. 7%? Barely worth the effort.
Still... she gets ready to fight.
“15 seconds out. Start charging a rifle blast. I need another shot to the torso, same as before.”
“What's the point? She’ll just eat another car and regenerate.” But she holds the rifle’s trigger, feels the power building within.
“That’s accounted for. Fire when ready.”
The rifle throbs in her hands…
And she’s in motion, smooth and deadly as a striking snake. She aims, fires…
Trusts.
For all the good that’s ever done her.
D.M. about 9 years ago
holding my breath....
Jonathan Mills about 9 years ago
Thanks for reading DM