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Viewing Single Post From: Nice Morning for a Shootout
outfoxd
Contender
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Marilyn was talking, or making a valiant effort at trying to talk, and of course was getting on Bryant's nerves just a little. He followed where she was pointing anyway, hoping to placate the panicking girl.

"Marilyn, I need you to shut the fu..." He saw them. Two white boys, one with a gun. One with a gun getting ready to fire. What were the fucking odds?

He wasn't thinking, operating solely on self (and other) preservation when he grabbed Marilyn's little ass and halfway threw her into the alley behind cover before diving there himself. He swore he could feel one of the shooter's bullets whizz by his leg as he dove. As far as he knew, he wasn't hit. He didn't know too much about guns, so he was happy when his didn't inadvertently go off, either. He'd need every shot.

As soon as he recovered from his baseball slide, Bryant was up, shotgun gripped tightly in both hands. He looked over to Marilyn, who was, predictably scared out of her mind.

"Fucking RUN!" He shouted at her. As if to answer any question as to how she would do that, Bryant set about drawing the shooter's attention to himself and himself alone.

Bryant peeked out from his perch at the corner of the wall, braced the shotgun against his shoulder, took aim at the place where he could see the guys taking cover, pulled one of the double triggers on the weapon. The first barrel fired, and the shotgun roared, bruising his eardrums. Bryant almost wasn't ready for the kick, and as it happened he was rocked back on his heels.

Goddamn.

He figured he hadn't hit anybody, and that was ok. He just wanted to cover Marilyn's escape. Maybe get the kids to give up.

"MOTHERFUCKER, you keep shooting and I will put you the FUCK down!" He shouted to the kid with the gun, even as he broke the shotgun across his forearm behind cover and scrabbled in his bag for another shell. He hoped to God that he wouldn't have to make good on his promise.
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Nice Morning for a Shootout · Open Ground
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