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Viewing Single Post From: Nice Morning for a Shootout
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(Gming Approved)

Bryant's ultimatum was met with more gunfire, and once more he felt that red haze that had come
over him when he killed Michael, but he fought it back this time. In this situation it would have gotten him killed, perforated by this latest cracker's handgun.

He didn't want to do anything to this kid, but he was running out of options. He seemed jumpy. Had to be to just start dumping on Bryant like that.

Bryant looked around his vicinity, searching for something that could even the odds. All that he could see was a loose brick, apparently knocked from its mortar from the side of one of the buildings.

Bryant furrowed his eyebrows, then his face lit up and he formed a quick plan. He scooped the brick up in one hand, then shouted to the shooter, "I'm coming to bust your ass! I hope you ready, bitch!" More to distract than anything. Distraction. That was the name of the game.

Bryant tossed the brick underhand out into the open, and this part of the plan worked better than he could have hoped. There were two more pops as the shooter fired off two more rounds, probably startled by the movement.

Alright motherfucker. Let's dance.

Bryant pushed off of the wall and whirled around the corner, shotgun shouldered, finger inside the trigger guard. He could see the shooter now, out of cover, still aiming at where the brick had landed. Upon Bryant's exit from the corner Benjamin had started to turn, started to track, but he was too late.

Bryant pulled the trigger, and the gun coughed once, definitively.

Sorry, kid.

The shooter collapsed, the buckshot taking him just above the sternum. Bryant was lucky; his shot was off center to the right, but the spread of the blast covered for his poor aim. Mercifully, the shooter fell before Bryant could see the damage the shotgun blast caused. Bryant started over to their position, gun still shouldered, finger outside of the trigger guard. He could see the crouched over form of one more person, but he had heard only one gun. This other kid probably wasn't armed.

He reached their position. The kid he shot was barely moving, just squirming a little and coughing. He wasn't long for the world. Bryant took care not to look at him, lest he lose his nerve again. He didn't see where the kids handgun went, and at the moment didn't give a fuck.

The other kid looked like he just didn't want to be there. Bryant kept the barrel of the gun trained on him regardless.

"What was his name?" Bryant asked.

The kid didn't answer at first, probably still in shock.

"What was his fucking NAME!?" He snarled this time, and had to stop himself from hitting the kid with the gun.
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Nice Morning for a Shootout · Open Ground
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