Danger Prone - Possibly the Final Chapter- (Strong Language)
Damian needs to make a difficult decision; one he can't turn his back from.
****If you haven't read 1,2, and 3, I HIGHLY HIGHLY HIGHLY suggest you do so****
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Are you sure you’re ready to kill someone? For us?" Damian nodded slowly, drawing his colt from its holster. "Good," Andy said. "Can’t have a gutless piece of shit waving a gun around like it’s Mardi Gras." She knew what she had to do. She just needed to make it convincing. Their target was located on the fifth floor of ValTek Inc., third window from the left. After looking at the front and back of the card for a few minutes, Damian slipped it back into his pocket. "Logan Baxter, age twenty-nine; no specific background information. Can you tell me why this guy is our target?" She jumped over a wooden crate, jogging towards the stone steps that lead to the train station. "You don’t need to know!" she called. "Just go with the flow and get your ass over here before we miss the fucking target!" Damian climbed over the wooden crate Andy had gone over and followed her to the stairs. "Can do," he said. "So why are we stopping here?"
Andy shielded her eyes from the glare of the Sun. "Fucking Sun. Can’t see shit. Go ahead. Take the fucker out." Damian nodded, stepping forward as Andy moved aside. The target must’ve been three miles away. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his face. The farthest target he’d gotten a bulls-eye on was about two thousand yards. That had taken him over two hundred rounds over the duration of half an hour. He had about four minutes and only one shot. His breathing slowed drastically as he took aim, putting every ounce of concentration he could into his shot. He’d been focusing for about nearly the full four minutes when he decided to squeeze the trigger. The bullet exploded out of the barrel at over one thousand eight hundred meters per second, hitting the target nearly three seconds after the trigger was pulled. Well, not exactly. The bullet smashed through the window pane and buried itself in the picture hanging right above Logan’s head. When Damian hadn’t been looking, Andy and removed the rifling from the barrel of Damian’s gun.
Andy hit him over the head with her gun. "You stupid shit! You can’t hit a fucking target after you’ve been standing there like some sort of fucking statue for nearly four fucking minutes? We’ll be all over the fucking news now without having killed our target, no thanks to you!" Damian looked at her with sorrowful eyes, lowering the gun. "It’s my first time. That was what - three? Four miles away? Why do you have to say that? I thought you were my friend!" Andy turned away in disgust. Mostly because of the way she’s been acting towards him but he mustn’t know. For the sake of his own health. "Why the fuck would I have been your friend? You can’t do shit-"she took a bullet in the shoulder, causing her to stumble backwards. "Andy!" Damian rushed over only to be swatted away by her hand. "Get the fuck away from me! I’m not gonna fucking die! Move out of the way before your own head gets blown off!" She sat up straight, her back pressed against the wall. She winced as she pulled the bullet out of her shoulder. It was a shallow wound. Bullets can’t hit you very hard if they’re being fired from this far off.
When they had returned, Andy had told him of their failures. She stormed through the door, pointing at Damian with her bandaged arm. "This motherfucker couldn’t shoot the fucking target! The dipshit nearly got me killed, too!" The boss turned around to face Damian. "Is this true?" Damian took a meager step back, his eyes cast downwards. "Yes," he muttered. "Well then," the boss kneed him in the stomach, causing him to collapse to the floor. Andy could only watch with clenched fists as Damian was being beaten to a pulp by the boss. It’s better than death, but it still pissed her off. She felt a strong urge to intervene but her common sense told her to stand still. She could only hope this would end soon.
When Damian was finished being beaten to a bloodied pulp, he limped towards the shooting range, blood soaking every part of his body. Even opening the door was difficult. He collapsed to the floor in the doorway, dragging himself up to the counter. He lay on his back, thinking of when his shitty life would end. Maybe he could. Maybe he could end it right now. He patted the counter for a gun and found his colt. He jammed the barrel into his mouth and pulled the - a throwing knife slammed into his gun, causing it to skitter across the floor. He turned his head to see who had thrown it. Andy. "Why are you here?" he said hoarsely, the pain in his voice unmistakable. Andy knelt before him, staring directly into his eyes. "You know that shit I said back there? I didn’t mean it. Any of it. The boss told me he’d have you killed if he found out that you’d taken out the target. I needed to make it convincing so I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry. Behind all the insults, harsh words, and hitting, I’m really a nice person; if it still means anything, I’m still your friend." Damian stared into the ceiling and laughed. It sounded awful. "You have no idea how much that means to me. I’m glad to hear it. Glad to know I’ve still got someone I can lean on." Andy smiled. "You should get some rest, kid. You look like you need it."
The boss sat in his four wheeled chair, inspecting the gun that Damian had used to shoot at the target. The inside of the barrel was perfectly smooth. No hint of rifling in the barrel at all. Andy’s been hiding something. "Steven! Get in here!" Almost instantly, a man in a dark hood entered, closing the door behind him. "Sir." The boss set the gun aside. "Get Andy in here for me, will you?" Steven nodded and left, Andy returning in his place a minute later. "Sir." The boss picked up the colt, aiming it at Andy. "Say, during your mission; did you by any chance remove the rifling from this gun?" he said, the gun still pointed. Andy chewed at her lip. "Yes. I did. Sir." "Now, why did you do that?" Her eyes were fixed on the gun as she spoke. "I didn’t want Damian to be killed, sir." The boss checked the gun for ammunition and slid the magazine back in. "Now why would you care about someone like him." She swallowed. "He…he’s my friend, sir." The boss burst into laughter, rocking in his chair. "Your friend? You’ve bonded with the boy? Now that is just priceless. I hope you are joking," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "No sir," she said, her voice as stern as rock. The boss stopped laughing.
"You do realize this boy is a danger to us. If he figures out-" Andy shook her head. "He won’t. I’ll make sure of it." The boss aimed the gun at her again. "You have no idea what this means, do you? This could be disastrous. He’ll kill you too, whether he be your friend or not!" Andy didn’t think so. "You don’t know that. He has a good heart." The boss broke into laughter again. "A good heart? A good heart? What the fuck have you been smoking? What, is this second grade now? Go and kill the son of a bitch and we won’t having anything to worry about anymore." Andy stood her ground. "No. Sir." The boss quieted down, his voice gravely serious. "Excuse me?" Andy said nothing. The boss held the colt out for her. "Here, take it." Andy simply spat in his face. Enraged, he wiped the saliva from his face. "Take it! Now! Either you shoot or I do! You know what? Don’t take it! Just move out of the fucking way!" Andy shook her head. "Fuck you." His eyes narrowed as he cocked the pistol. "You always were a stubborn little bitch." He pulled the trigger, sending Andy stumbling to the floor, clutching her stomach. The boss stood up from his chair, spitting on Andy’s writhing form as he stepped out the doorway.
Damian heard the shot from the other end of the warehouse. The shot sounded from somewhere near the shooting range. They didn’t have target practice today. He rose from his cot and ran to the other side of the warehouse and up the stairs. He found the boss’s room wide open, Andy lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the doorway. "Shit!" he knelt beside Andy, turning her over. "Andy! What happened?" Unable to speak, blood spilled from her mouth. She coughed, spraying flecks of blood onto Damian’s face. "It’s…the boss. He’s looking for you…leave-" Damian shushed her. "Save your breath. Stop talking. It’ll only hurt you more." Andy removed her gun from its holster, placing it in Damian’s hands. "Take it. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity…to give it to you. This is the next best thing, eh? You’re a good kid. I know you won’t grow up to be...to be the sack of shit I turned out to be."
Damian shook his head. "Don’t say that. You mean more to me than anyone else has ever had." Even under the circumstances, she managed to laugh. "I…I needed to hear that. Thank you." Damian knelt lower. "Just stay here, I can help you! I have-" Andy tried to push him away, her feeble arm as strong as foam in its current condition. "Promise me one thing. Don’t kill the boss. He’s…he’s my father. He didn’t know what he was doing." Damian didn’t really know what to say. "But-" Andy interrupted him. "Just…just shut the fuck up and let me go to sleep..." Tears welled up in his eyes as Andy’s hand left his. Would he honor the dying wishes of the only friend he’s ever had or take vengeance of her death? It didn’t take long for him to come up with a decision. He checked Andy’s gun for ammunition and muttered, "If anyone’s danger prone, it’s the guy I’m about to fuck up."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Are you sure you’re ready to kill someone? For us?" Damian nodded slowly, drawing his colt from its holster. "Good," Andy said. "Can’t have a gutless piece of shit waving a gun around like it’s Mardi Gras." She knew what she had to do. She just needed to make it convincing. Their target was located on the fifth floor of ValTek Inc., third window from the left. After looking at the front and back of the card for a few minutes, Damian slipped it back into his pocket. "Logan Baxter, age twenty-nine; no specific background information. Can you tell me why this guy is our target?" She jumped over a wooden crate, jogging towards the stone steps that lead to the train station. "You don’t need to know!" she called. "Just go with the flow and get your ass over here before we miss the fucking target!" Damian climbed over the wooden crate Andy had gone over and followed her to the stairs. "Can do," he said. "So why are we stopping here?"
Andy shielded her eyes from the glare of the Sun. "Fucking Sun. Can’t see shit. Go ahead. Take the fucker out." Damian nodded, stepping forward as Andy moved aside. The target must’ve been three miles away. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his face. The farthest target he’d gotten a bulls-eye on was about two thousand yards. That had taken him over two hundred rounds over the duration of half an hour. He had about four minutes and only one shot. His breathing slowed drastically as he took aim, putting every ounce of concentration he could into his shot. He’d been focusing for about nearly the full four minutes when he decided to squeeze the trigger. The bullet exploded out of the barrel at over one thousand eight hundred meters per second, hitting the target nearly three seconds after the trigger was pulled. Well, not exactly. The bullet smashed through the window pane and buried itself in the picture hanging right above Logan’s head. When Damian hadn’t been looking, Andy and removed the rifling from the barrel of Damian’s gun.
Andy hit him over the head with her gun. "You stupid shit! You can’t hit a fucking target after you’ve been standing there like some sort of fucking statue for nearly four fucking minutes? We’ll be all over the fucking news now without having killed our target, no thanks to you!" Damian looked at her with sorrowful eyes, lowering the gun. "It’s my first time. That was what - three? Four miles away? Why do you have to say that? I thought you were my friend!" Andy turned away in disgust. Mostly because of the way she’s been acting towards him but he mustn’t know. For the sake of his own health. "Why the fuck would I have been your friend? You can’t do shit-"she took a bullet in the shoulder, causing her to stumble backwards. "Andy!" Damian rushed over only to be swatted away by her hand. "Get the fuck away from me! I’m not gonna fucking die! Move out of the way before your own head gets blown off!" She sat up straight, her back pressed against the wall. She winced as she pulled the bullet out of her shoulder. It was a shallow wound. Bullets can’t hit you very hard if they’re being fired from this far off.
When they had returned, Andy had told him of their failures. She stormed through the door, pointing at Damian with her bandaged arm. "This motherfucker couldn’t shoot the fucking target! The dipshit nearly got me killed, too!" The boss turned around to face Damian. "Is this true?" Damian took a meager step back, his eyes cast downwards. "Yes," he muttered. "Well then," the boss kneed him in the stomach, causing him to collapse to the floor. Andy could only watch with clenched fists as Damian was being beaten to a pulp by the boss. It’s better than death, but it still pissed her off. She felt a strong urge to intervene but her common sense told her to stand still. She could only hope this would end soon.
When Damian was finished being beaten to a bloodied pulp, he limped towards the shooting range, blood soaking every part of his body. Even opening the door was difficult. He collapsed to the floor in the doorway, dragging himself up to the counter. He lay on his back, thinking of when his shitty life would end. Maybe he could. Maybe he could end it right now. He patted the counter for a gun and found his colt. He jammed the barrel into his mouth and pulled the - a throwing knife slammed into his gun, causing it to skitter across the floor. He turned his head to see who had thrown it. Andy. "Why are you here?" he said hoarsely, the pain in his voice unmistakable. Andy knelt before him, staring directly into his eyes. "You know that shit I said back there? I didn’t mean it. Any of it. The boss told me he’d have you killed if he found out that you’d taken out the target. I needed to make it convincing so I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry. Behind all the insults, harsh words, and hitting, I’m really a nice person; if it still means anything, I’m still your friend." Damian stared into the ceiling and laughed. It sounded awful. "You have no idea how much that means to me. I’m glad to hear it. Glad to know I’ve still got someone I can lean on." Andy smiled. "You should get some rest, kid. You look like you need it."
The boss sat in his four wheeled chair, inspecting the gun that Damian had used to shoot at the target. The inside of the barrel was perfectly smooth. No hint of rifling in the barrel at all. Andy’s been hiding something. "Steven! Get in here!" Almost instantly, a man in a dark hood entered, closing the door behind him. "Sir." The boss set the gun aside. "Get Andy in here for me, will you?" Steven nodded and left, Andy returning in his place a minute later. "Sir." The boss picked up the colt, aiming it at Andy. "Say, during your mission; did you by any chance remove the rifling from this gun?" he said, the gun still pointed. Andy chewed at her lip. "Yes. I did. Sir." "Now, why did you do that?" Her eyes were fixed on the gun as she spoke. "I didn’t want Damian to be killed, sir." The boss checked the gun for ammunition and slid the magazine back in. "Now why would you care about someone like him." She swallowed. "He…he’s my friend, sir." The boss burst into laughter, rocking in his chair. "Your friend? You’ve bonded with the boy? Now that is just priceless. I hope you are joking," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "No sir," she said, her voice as stern as rock. The boss stopped laughing.
"You do realize this boy is a danger to us. If he figures out-" Andy shook her head. "He won’t. I’ll make sure of it." The boss aimed the gun at her again. "You have no idea what this means, do you? This could be disastrous. He’ll kill you too, whether he be your friend or not!" Andy didn’t think so. "You don’t know that. He has a good heart." The boss broke into laughter again. "A good heart? A good heart? What the fuck have you been smoking? What, is this second grade now? Go and kill the son of a bitch and we won’t having anything to worry about anymore." Andy stood her ground. "No. Sir." The boss quieted down, his voice gravely serious. "Excuse me?" Andy said nothing. The boss held the colt out for her. "Here, take it." Andy simply spat in his face. Enraged, he wiped the saliva from his face. "Take it! Now! Either you shoot or I do! You know what? Don’t take it! Just move out of the fucking way!" Andy shook her head. "Fuck you." His eyes narrowed as he cocked the pistol. "You always were a stubborn little bitch." He pulled the trigger, sending Andy stumbling to the floor, clutching her stomach. The boss stood up from his chair, spitting on Andy’s writhing form as he stepped out the doorway.
Damian heard the shot from the other end of the warehouse. The shot sounded from somewhere near the shooting range. They didn’t have target practice today. He rose from his cot and ran to the other side of the warehouse and up the stairs. He found the boss’s room wide open, Andy lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the doorway. "Shit!" he knelt beside Andy, turning her over. "Andy! What happened?" Unable to speak, blood spilled from her mouth. She coughed, spraying flecks of blood onto Damian’s face. "It’s…the boss. He’s looking for you…leave-" Damian shushed her. "Save your breath. Stop talking. It’ll only hurt you more." Andy removed her gun from its holster, placing it in Damian’s hands. "Take it. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity…to give it to you. This is the next best thing, eh? You’re a good kid. I know you won’t grow up to be...to be the sack of shit I turned out to be."
Damian shook his head. "Don’t say that. You mean more to me than anyone else has ever had." Even under the circumstances, she managed to laugh. "I…I needed to hear that. Thank you." Damian knelt lower. "Just stay here, I can help you! I have-" Andy tried to push him away, her feeble arm as strong as foam in its current condition. "Promise me one thing. Don’t kill the boss. He’s…he’s my father. He didn’t know what he was doing." Damian didn’t really know what to say. "But-" Andy interrupted him. "Just…just shut the fuck up and let me go to sleep..." Tears welled up in his eyes as Andy’s hand left his. Would he honor the dying wishes of the only friend he’s ever had or take vengeance of her death? It didn’t take long for him to come up with a decision. He checked Andy’s gun for ammunition and muttered, "If anyone’s danger prone, it’s the guy I’m about to fuck up."
Post Comment | View Comments
