@blackestoffridays
She slammed her back against the rusty carapace of the truck so fiercely, it seemed to echo across the courtyard, and she cringed.
“Come ooon, bitch! You made the first shot! Don’t start a game you can’t finish.” The next shot hit the tire of the car beside her, the air hissing out from the decrepit rubber. She slipped off her belt, shoved it into her mouth, and tied a spare tank top tightly around her upper thigh. She just needed time, damn it. They hardly gave her a choice. They had tracked her for days, sabotaging everything she had put effort into for survival. Her water purifier, her smoked meat, they had set fire to her makeshift shelter. Of course she made the first shot when she saw his head pop out of the apartment window. She should have been more quiet about it. She could have gone around and made it personal. Her luck, it seemed, was increasingly drowning away with the seasonal downpour that settled over the land. With the blood draining away from her leg, and the chill of the air, it was miserable. For hell’s sake, couldn’t she just be left alone? It was foolish of her to stay in one place or so long. She popped the clip free from her magnum, and counted. It would get her nowhere against the rifleman in the window, but it gave her a fair advantage if she were to be rounded on and trapped. She hoped, against all hope, that the crazed sharpshooter would choose to ignore the bird settled away between an apartment ledge and a broken window, observing the scene closely. She gave him a shaky thumbs up, as if he could understand it, and began sliding her way over to the next car, whose front was pressed against the truck she had taken refuge against. One distraction. With as much noise as the man was making, the infected were soon to arrive. From where, it was impossible to tell. She pressed her face into the grass, grunted in pain, and slid forward again. She could tend to it when she was free. It was not the worst she had endured. Another yard to go. The man cackled, and shot through the window of the truck she had been by, hollering crude insults. She made it to the car, and slid beneath it, where the grass was the thickest, and rolled onto her back, her vision bleary from exhaustion. One damn distraction.