The amount of screaming and stampeding is overwhelming. I don't think I really need to be getting people out, they're doing a fine job of that themselves. Those who aren't actively trying to run are being pulled by those who are. People are pushing and pulling at me from all sides, and the kid too. I pick her up, holding her tight. No kids are getting sacrificed or trampled on my watch. I push against the crowd, making my way to the front. I see Val and Frida soaring back down through the ceiling. Then come the first gunshots of many. Crusaders from all corners have overcome the initial shock, and are ready to do battle.
Val and Frida land; Malik and Roman are quick to cut their harnesses. Frida brandishes her double handguns, and Val has already hit two crusaders with their sawed-off shotgun. Roman, Malik, Declan, and Killian have all joined the battle, slashing, shooting, and wreaking havoc. I can't wait to join them, but I'm currently holding a little girl. Most of the civilians have made it out, but I spot another child, clearly injured. Shit. I run up to her and shake her. She looks up at me, terrified eyes matching my other kid's.
"You both are going to need so much therapy," I say, scooping up the second kid, and dashing behind a pew as the gunfire gets dangerously close. I look around frantically, where can I stash these little girls? I look to the pulpit and realize that there are no bullet holes in it. Holy shit, it's bulletproof. Looks like they were prepared, just not prepared enough. I make a mad dash to it. I slide behind it.
"Okay, Okay," I set the girls down, "Stay here, this is bulletproof okay? You guys are gonna be fine. I'm gonna come back okay?" They both give me blank terrified expressions, which I take to mean they understand.
"Here," I produce my spare knives, handing one to each kid, "These will protect you if I die." Oh, these are children, I can't say that. "I mean, I'm not going to die, I'm going to come back for you, but... ya know. In case I die. Okay, see ya." I think I handled that poorly, I don't know how to talk to children. I grab my knives and whoop, running into the fight.
YOU ARE READING
The Steeple- Orignal Story
Science FictionA work of original Science Fiction, written as a final for an English class, but I was extremely proud of it and wanted to put it somewhere. CW for violence and cursing
