Rumble Fish
The Paradise Hunter
The gunmen's approach slowed considerably once they reached the top of the stairs. A light tremble caused their weapon to vibrate in their grip. Their breathing was coming fast and shallow and they swung the barrel of their guns to every perceived noise.
The room they had entered had no immediately obvious threats.
"I got the bathroom. You get the other room." The pointman said in a hushed but loud voice. The adrenaline and fear evident in his voice.
Was it too late to talk about this?
Probably.
Without a word, Nile sprung up from behind the tub blocking the bathroom door and fired off four shots in rapid, blind fire succession, aiming for the frontman. He didn’t have enough time to even see whether they hit or not before he was diving back to the floor, making himself as small of a target as possible before sticking his Glock through the narrow space between the bottom of the tub and the floor and squeezing off another two shots. He hadn’t expected them to hit, they were just meant to stop them from advancing on him now that he was behind cover.
Most of the shots went wide but one found its mark on the back of the second thug, causing him to cry out in surprise and fall to the wooden floor. He clutched at his back and gasped for air, the vest having saved his life but knocked the wind out of him.
Nile’s plan had worked and the remaining man swung around immediately and began firing wildly into the bathroom. The shotgun bucked against the gunman’s shoulder and slammed into the old metal that covered Nile. It groaned and panged with every shell but held firm thankfully.
Colt watched this unfold from behind the dresser. One man went down and the other had his back turned and was shooting toward Nile. The downed man was facing toward her. He would take a second to regain his composure and would see her. The other shooter, meanwhile, was actively trying to shoot Nile. Letting out a short breath, Colt swung and began firing.
With an auto weapon she knew that holding the trigger too long would send bullets spraying every which way, not good when she had to not only conserve but also avoid striking Nile. She squeezed the trigger in small spurts, first aiming for the man on the ground’s head before turning her attention to the shooter’s legs. If successful, she would down him before he could advance too far on Nile. She kept her good ear towards the window. Surely this amount of noise would have attracted more unwanted attention.
The man’s last spray of Buckshot before Colt had opened fire had run true, half of the small metal balls puncturing the front side of the rusty metal tub Nile was crouched behind, shooting across the length of the tub, and one small ball digging through the other end. Most of the force behind the buckshot ball had been spent on the journey through the tub, so instead of punching straight in Nile’s leg like it should have, it punched against his thick work jeans and bounced off like a BB. Not to say it didn’t hurt, because it did, a metric fuckton so, and it would absolutely leave an ugly bruise later, but at least it didn’t pierce skin.
Cursing up a storm, the man instinctively clutched his upper leg, skirting it away from the small leakage of the strange brown liquid trickling out of the tub from the buckshot’s exit wound.
The crackle of Colt’s rifle had spurred him back into action after his near miss-and boy, did he count himself lucky for that one-and he stuck his Glock over the top of the tub, firing off shots at the attackers indiscriminately before pulling his arm back behind cover before they had the chance to retaliate. That shotgun was still pointed his way, he wasn’t sticking anything else over for the guy to target.
The 5.56 rounds Colt had fired did their job, spilling the first man's gray matter out the back of his head, onto the wooden floor and leaking through, dripping to the first floor. The second burst also found its target but only partially. The recoil caused the grouping of the bullets to travel upwards from the intended leg shot.
Luckily, Colt's rifle was more than capable of punching through standard police issue kevlar. A round blew the man's knee out the front, the second turned his left kidney into paste, and the third bullet from the burst tore through his back and out of his chest, leaving a viscera strewn canyon through his lower abdomen.
The first man had obviously died instantly, while the second fell to his left side after his leg had been shot out. He had jumped when the bullets tore through him but he didn't exactly feel pain. Which was evident by the look of confusion on his face. He tried several times to stand back up and was unable too. His limbs not functioning the way he wanted them to.
"I… I… what? I can't.." He muttered as he weakly floundered about, trying to put his internal bits back inside of his body.
“Grr!” Colt half grinned half grimaced madly at the red flower shooting from her first target. Seeing the second man downed, she thought of going straight to him to demand an explanation for this attack, but the veteran kept still, poking over the dresser to see Nile. From his yelling, he seemed to have been struck. Growling, Colt waited. As much as she wanted to go straight to them, she could not get out of cover until she was sure it was secure.
The sound of bodies hitting the floor made Nile pop his head up. He instantly regretted doing so. Gagging violently, he ducked his head down momentarily to prepare himself before looking back up.
“Oh, Jesus Christ…” Nile muttered, stepping over the tub and peering down the stairs just to be safe. He stared at the dying man, unable to look away.
Snapping out of his trance momentarily, he motioned for the veteran to come out.
“Colt, go check the window. The last guy should still be out there.” It wasn’t like his Glock would do him much good at range anyway. If they were smart, they would’ve run away once they heard the gunfire stop and didn’t hear their buddies answer them.
Approaching the man bleeding out, almost awkwardly, he kneeled down. They’d been firing a shotgun at him just a minute ago, and they’d seemed pretty gung ho about it, but this just wasn’t right.
Skirting their dropped shotgun away from their reach, he gently wrapped his hand around the man’s sidearm holster, pulled out the weapon, and tucked it into his beltline, just out of reach.
Hesitantly, he wrapped one arm around the man's back to prop them up, pressing his other against one of the man's chest wounds. It wouldn't help in the slightest, but he hoped the sentiment was conveyed.
Fuck, man, he didn't want to kill the guy. Sure, they'd seemed pretty insistent on doing him in just a few seconds ago, but they didn't deserve to get capped in the head with their guts spilling on the floor. Nobody did.
They were going to bleed out soon enough, and Nile could at least help comfort them until then. The fight was over, as far as Nile was concerned all there was left was some poor guy bleeding out on the floor.
If Colt had the time, she would have committed a mercy killing to the poor bastard. But she could not afford to move from her position. Not answering Nile, she slowly moved to the window and, back to the wall, leaned just enough so she could see out. She had to force herself not to look at the man she had fatally wounded. This territory was far too familiar for her. Half of her wanted to go and interrogate the man but she knew that would turn up nothing. Nobody who is dying has the time for that. No… she would save that for the last gunman. If there was one.
As they both suspected, the third gunman had run off once he noticed his comrades weren't confirming their kills. He had assumed the worst and bolted to join another group.
Colt watched the last man flee, instinctively pointing the gun out the window. After a moment however she lowered the weapon. He would not get far. Shouldering the gun, she listened out for more. Nothing. But what did get her attention made her blood run cold.
Distant gunshots, coming from the Lodge’s direction!
“Fuck… fuck fuck!!” Colt snarled, “They are under attack! We need to go! Now!” She approached the dead man and started removing his armour and rifling through his pockets for ammo.
“Arthur wouldn’t have ran far, we can probably grab him then come up with a plan. Going straight back would be suicide.” The veteran sighed gruffly, “they probably won’t answer the radio if it’s that bad… shit.” She was talking more to herself now, trying to piece together any sliver of ideas she could find.
“We need to get out of here. If it isn’t more of these bastards coming it’ll be a whole load of hostiles,” She gathered what she had collected, as well as putting on the kevlar vest. She assumed Nile was still preoccupied with the dying man. She wasn’t going to stop him, if anything it gave her more time to think of a plan.
Perfect. With a long-suffering sigh, Nile slumped to his knees where he held his former attacker. Jesus Christ, this was exhausting. He just wanted to go to bed and sleep for a week as it was, how the hell did people power through situations like this?
“Just call them anyway,” Nile said, shooting Colt a confused look. “Go get your horse and see if anyone can fill you in, I’ll be down in a minute” Nile said, the dying man growing even weaker as he spoke.
“Fuck sake…” she sighed in annoyance, “can you not hear all that noise? We need to act now, hurry it up!” and with that she grabbed everything and headed down the broken steps and outside, muttering under her breath at how he seemed to show more empathy for a psycho that just tried to kill them rather than anyone at the Lodge. Outside of the thunderclap of gunshots, it was eerily peaceful. Putting two fingers to her lips, she blew out a shrill whistle, calling for the steed.
A frantic snort and charging hooves announced his arrival as Arthur broke through the bushes toward them. His chest and legs were caked in mud and his eyes were wild. He must have had quite the shock. Talking softly to him, Colt loaded everything onto his back, her mind still turning over everything that had just happened. Who were those men and surely they were part of the same party now attacking the Lodge. It was too much of a coincidence.
“Can always rely on her to be the most tactful person in the room,” Nile drawled as Colt left, voice dry and sarcastic, “really, she has such an eloquent way of speaking.”
He didn’t really know whether he was talking to his attacker or himself. In a literal sense, the wounded man had become perfectly still and silent. Hesitantly, Nile touched a hand to the man’s neck. Nothing.
This day was fucked. This may come as a surprise, but Nile really liked it when people didn’t die. The fact it was self defense wasn’t much of a comfort, five people were dead in this shitty little shack in the woods.
Sighing, he gently rested the man on the floor. His kevlar vest was draped in viscera spilled from their open wounds and covered in more blood than he was comfortable to look at. Despite trying to, he couldn’t bring himself to take it off the man. It might’ve been filled with holes, but it could still take a shot for him in the ensuing gunfight he was sure to get caught up in. But that would mean pushing aside the man’s internal organs and reaching around their dead body to take it off. Nile didn’t have the stomach to do it. Gently taking the holsters off both dead men and pucking up the shotgun from the floor, Nile grabbed a few doare shells and left the vest where it was.
That would probably bite him in the ass later, but he didn’t really care at that point. He just didn’t want to do anymore shit he wasn’t proud of.
Attaching the holsters to his belt, he inserted his Glock and the Beretta he’d taken off of the dying man.
“Have you called them yet?” Nile asked, inserting shells into the 870 shotgun as he walked up to Colt. This was a gun he actually knew how to use, he’d gone hunting enough times with shotguns to have a much better understanding of them then any other firearm he’s used so far.
Colt was fiddling with the radio when the man approached. She had been trying to reach the Lodge for the last few minutes.
“It’s Stanhope, come in.” She waited for a moment, ignoring Nile’s confused question of ‘who the fuck is Stanhope?’, gaining nothing from the radio. “Do you read me?” again, nothing.
“Blast it,” she growled, still keeping the radio on her person in case they answered, “with the racket that’s coming from there, it’s bad.”
“Is your horse even going to let me on?” Nile interrupted, “because I don’t think it likes me.”
“He’ll do what I say,” Colt answered bluntly, “he also only likes who I like.” and with that she swung onto the horse before positioning him near a large stone Nile could use as a mounting block. “I need to know what’s going on in there before we can do anything. Let’s get somewhere close and see what can be done.”
“You know that’s not reassuring, right?” Hesitantly, Nile tried to loop a leg over the back of the horse with great difficulty. After struggling for an embarrassingly long time, he finally managed to poorly sit himself behind Colt.
“That I can agree with, ride on Eastwood."
Colt did not respond to this. Clicking her tongue, she encouraged Arthur into a jogging trot from the clearing. She did not want to go on the road or straight back toward the building. Who knows what was going to happen?