The Mistwalker

Chapter 9

Everything seemed to have happened instantly. Sly, Roger, Conner, Ayman, and half a dozen others were sprinting to the best cover in the middle. They scattered for that cover in front of their building as the first shot rang from the enemy side. A marksman on the second floor was already taking shots. One of Sly's squad mates popped off a couple of shots, only to receive two shots to the chest. Blood sprayed from the wounds as the man collapse in the snow, unmoving. Sly instantly knew that they were in what may be the last fight of their lives.

A grenade plopped down into the snow, a couple feet from Sly. Sly wasn't quick enough to register the threat it held. Ayman sprinted out of his cover, took a couple shots to his side, and dove on the grenade without hesitation. Ayman absorbed the blow, saving his teammates and Sly, at the cost of his life.

Sly leaned back on the cover he was on and slowly slid to the ground. The feeling of the sudden, gut wrenching lose he felt, he couldn't comprehend it. Even if Ayman was a quiet man, he was still one of Sly's closest friends here. He needed to get a grip. He could deal with the shellshock later. He needed to do something to keep the loss of life to a minimum.

"Sly!" Roger called from his left. "I've already downed five!" Sly nodded, jumping back to the reality of the situation. Each team, he assumed, had thirty-six members on the field. It was a good start, although, who knew how much people he had lost already.

Sly picked up a rifle that had blown towards him. He took one shot from his cover, surveying the enemy's side. Just like his, they were in chaos. It seems they didn't know about the live ammunition either. Even though it was a quick shot, Sly didn't receive any return fire to his spot. Maybe just some good luck?

He switched positions slightly as Conner, Roger, and another one of his teammates were being pinned with fire. Sly popped up to fire a couple more shots, but instead, he saw their leader, Shay. They locked eyes, and she smiled. She rose her rifle and fired while moving up.

Sly ducked down, noting that no one else was firing on him. Was that her game? Having her troops pin down his so no one interrupts their dual? Sly mentally cursed. Shay had all the cards and he had nothing going for him. Shay's marksman on the second floor had no competition. Plucking off Sly's mates with ease. Sly could only assume the lack of competition meant that the marksman already delt with Milly and Omar.

The situation was grim. No matter who took out Sly, the match would be over, and the loss of life would stop. He turned to Roger, still pinned by gunfire at the cover next to him. "They won't shoot me." Sly noted.

Roger looked over at him, a bit bewildered. "Well good for you!" He commented sarcastically.

Sly new Conner was within earshot and rose his voice so he could be heard. "The center is lost! Pull back and try to reenforce the left and right sides!" Sly ordered.

Roger rose a brow. "And leave you behind?!"

"Shay wants a dual That's what she's going to get!" Sly replied. "The match will be over one way or another." Before Roger could protest, Sly moved out of his position and sprinted for some cover at the center of the arena. He left the rifle he found behind, knowing he would only need his new sidearm and sickles in his dual against Shay.

The gunfire came to a stop, with gunfire to Sly's distant left and right continuing. Roger and the others didn't pop up to fire, to Sly's relief. He hoped they would take this opportunity to get out of here. He saw Shay at the opposite cover straight ahead, with fifteen feet in-between. She rose and fired a couple shots in his direction. Sly ducked and they flew overhead. "What do you have against me?!" Sly yelled to Shay.

"What can I say?!" She yelled back. "You're a murderer!" Not really the answer he was looking for. She mantled over her cover and slowly approached Sly's position with her rifle raised. Sly was quicker than Shay expected. He moved out of his cover and rushed her. She fired, but Sly used one of his sickles to push the barrel out of the way, sending the bullet into the snow. With the same motion, he sent his other sickle hand for a slash on Shay's neck. Shay dropped her rifle, got a bit closer to Sly, and used her left forearm to deflect Sly's strike while avoiding the sickle. This left Sly open as she followed with an uppercut from her right hand, now weaponless.

The blow clattered Sly's teeth together and sent him in a daze. Shay followed up with an elbow to his chest that sent him flying back into the snow. He tried to catch his breath and his composure while lying on his back in the snow. He could feel a burning pain in his chest. Probably a broken or fractured rib. He let out a scream of pain. He could taste blood in his mouth. He lost his sickles and probably whatever hope he had of winning this battle. His sidearm also seemed to vanish. He was in too much pain to move. His will to fight broken.

Shay picked up her rifle and moved to Sly. She rose the rifle to line up the final shot that would execute him. Sly did, funny enough, felt a sense a relief. This nightmare was coming to a close.

Milly didn't know how long she was laying up against the wall, transfixed on the slow process of blood sapping the peaceful white color from the snow. The gunfire and screams echoing in her mind. What snapped her back to the present was a unique scream of pain. It was Sly.

She took her eyes off of Omar and peered out the window. The marksman across wasn't giving her any attention. To her surprise, no one was. On her side, she only saw fallen comrades. The other side had a couple of people still standing, just watching what was unfolding in the center. Sly was battered and the enemy leader, Shay, stood over him. A rifle pointed at his skull. She was reviling in his misery. Waiting before landing the final shot that would end the match.

Milly could end this match. No one was watching her. She loaded one ball into her rifle and tried her best to quickly line up a shot. A thought crept up in the back of her mind. This would be the first life that she would end. She had no time for hesitation, or anything else for that matter. She fired. Almost instantly, a storm of bullets came her way. She cowered back to where she was, curled up in a ball. She slammed her eyes shut. Just wanting it all to end.

A shot came from the second floor of Sly's building. Sly couldn't really tell what they were aiming at. The shot clearly missed Shay by five meters, slamming into the snow behind her. It still made her jump, breaking her focus on Sly. Every single one of Shay's troops must have open fire on the shooter from above. Sly saw his opportunity. He had a slight hope that relite his fighting spirit.

Sly gave a quick push off the snow that slide him towards Shay, covering the small gap in between them. He scissored his legs into Shay's, sweeping her off her feet. She fell towards her left side, using the motion to transfer into a roll away from Sly. He got up, grabbed one of his sickles, and charged her. Shay still had her rifle in one hand and drew a combat knife with the other. Sly was going in with a left-handed slash with his sickle, but Shay spun to his right, out of the sickle's reach. She used the momentum of her spin to land a blow with her knife. Sly rose his forearm and the knife landed home in that instead of his neck. He yanked down, breaking her grasp on the blade, leaving it embedded in his forearm. This allowed Sly to land his own blow, slashing his sickle across Shay's face.

Shay quickly backed off while raising her rifle, blood oozing from the slash cut clean across her face. She was hoping to land a shot that would stop Sly's onslaught and save her life. Sly threw a high kick that launch the rifle out of her hands and straight into the air. He then dropped into a spin, cutting his blade through Shay's lower chest. The cut wasn't deep, but still painful. Shay stumbled back and fell on her rear. The rifle fell from the sky and landed in Sly's hands landed. Sly slide the sickle back into its scabbard on his hip and stared at Shay.

The gunfire seemed to have stopped at some point, and all was silent. It looked like, to Sly's surprise, that no one was going to give Shay a hand. She was propped up on her elbow, staring right back at Sly. Not the slightest bit of fear in her eyes. Maybe even a slight bit of amusement. She chuckled. "Just going to kill an unarmed girl like this?"

"What can I say?" Sly replied, raising the rifle. "I'm a murderer." And fired.