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Stupid move. He should have just dived at Renee, pushed both of them down to the ground, instead of replacing her presence with his own.

No time for regrets. Sam's teeth ground against each other as the blood streamed down his arm.

He was shaking, visibly, almost too much to aim the shotgun. But he was aiming it at Rebecca, trying to force her to back off.

It didn't work.

She was charging him, trying to add insult to injury. Adding theft to assault. The tremors in his arms intensified as she drove an elbow into his ribs. The pain of that was nothing compared to the arrow.

Sam kept his hold on the shotgun, a useless death grip on something that he knew was just a facade of a threat, now. Rebecca couldn't break it loose, not with just one hand on it. He had one functional arm left as well, and he sure as well wasn't just going to give up. She was just making herself more of a target by the second, and that was something she probably couldn't afford to do.

But he could hardly think clearly anymore, much less say it.

"Do you want it this badly?" he growled.
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Program V3 Prologue:
Sylvia Veneski -- F32 -- Clothes Hanger -- Alive -- Stroke of Midnight

Auld Lang Syne
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Swan Song · The Streets
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