Cursed

The guard popped out on the side I wasn’t expecting and I threw myself back into cover as another burst of fire struck chips from the wall. My movements were scared, jerky; I was outclassed and I knew it. The fire stopped and I leant out to shoot back.

It was a trap. The guard was waiting with his sights trained on where I’d appear. If I’d been able to see into the future I would have seen it coming … but I couldn’t and I didn’t. Another burst of fire raked the corner and this time I wasn’t quick enough. Pain seared my left arm and I fell back with a cry.

The fire stopped. My left arm was numb, in agony, and couldn’t support my gun. I staggered back along the corridor, looking for cover. I could hear the tread of cautious footsteps; the guard knew he’d hit me and was coming to finish me off. I wrenched at the handle of the first door. Locked. The footsteps broke into a jog. Next door … locked as well. I ran for the end of the corridor.

Gunfire behind. Something plucked at my shoulder and I knew I’d been hit. I kept running, made it around the corner as another burst slammed into the concrete, trying to get as far as I could before I collapsed. My legs were still working but I didn’t know how much longer they’d last.

But I’d run as far as I could. The corridor came to a dead end ahead, and behind me I could hear running feet. I made it to the nearest door and wrenched at the handle.

The handle turned. I scrambled into the darkness, tripped over a bucket, and fell with a crash, gasping in pain as the impact jarred my arm. I tried to get up, hit something else, fell again. No more time. I twisted awkwardly, propping up my gun on my body, lining up on the rectangle of light that marked the doorway.

Silence. The guard must be outside in the corridor but I couldn’t see him. I held dead still, trying to quiet my breathing.

A footstep, quiet and stealthy. Another. The guard was advancing down the corridor. Two more steps, then the faint rattle as he tried the first door. He had to know I was in one of the rooms—there was nowhere else to go. It was just a matter of time.

Another footstep, this one closer. I couldn’t see where the guard was and I was afraid. I held my breath, trying to block out the pain and the fear, keeping my eyes glued to the light of the doorway, the gun shaking slightly as my right hand held its weight. If he looked around the edge of that doorway I would have a second—no more—in which he was silhouetted against the light. One chance to hit him.

But in that same second, he’d see me. There was a crazy irony to it. It was the same guy I’d found asleep in front of the monitors. After all the people I’d killed, I was about to die because I’d spared someone …

The footsteps stopped and I could hear the guard’s breathing just outside the door. I focused on the gun’s sight, trying to line it up on the right side of the door frame. One shot—

A flurry of footsteps. I heard the guard turn, then grunt as something hit him. The guard came into view, staggering across the doorway, caught for an instant in my gunsight with Luna’s slim body wrapped around him. Then he tripped and both of them fell with a thud out of my line of vision.

“Luna!” I shouted. I tried to roll to my feet, yelped as my arm gave way, gritted my teeth and struggled up anyway. Suddenly I wasn’t afraid for myself anymore. I could hear the scrabble of a fight, the guard swearing, boots scraping the concrete. Then there was a cracking noise and a thump, and everything went quiet.

By the time I reached the corridor it was all over. Luna had regained her feet and was dusting herself off, still holding the key ring I’d dropped through her door. The guard was lying still, the gun fallen from his hands. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his head and a heavy lump of concrete lay next to it. Looking up, I saw a jagged hole in the ceiling. One of the explosions must have weakened it.

I realised Luna was talking to me. “Alex? Alex!”

I looked up. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

“Sure. Fine.”

Luna gave me a disbelieving look and pointed at my left arm.

I looked down to see that the sleeve was wet with blood. “Oh. Right.” All of a sudden standing up felt really difficult. I slumped against the wall and slid down into a sitting position, wincing slightly.

“Alex!” Luna said.

“’M okay,” I said halfheartedly.

“You’re not okay. You’re shot!” Luna made a move towards me and checked, holding back with a noise of frustration. “It’s just the arm, right?”

“No,” I said vaguely. “Don’t think so.” Now the frenzy of combat was over, it was so much harder to think. I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to be doing.

“Then—can’t you look or see how bad it is or— I don’t know! Put a bandage on it, or something!”

“Didn’t bring one.” I laughed; somehow it seemed funny. “Used to. Had a first-aid kit. But so used to getting out of the way …”

Luna shook her head. “We can’t stay here. Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

Luna took a step back, then waited. “Come on!”

“Where?”