blizzard [ᴅɪsᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ]

[.02]

CAUGHT IN THE ALLEYWAYS

I woke up to the sounds of sirens, cars, and barking. Opening my eyes, I squinted, adjusting to the bright light that greeted me from the street lamp. I turned my head to the side and saw some red liquid pooling into a puddle beside me. Blood.

Blood?

Out of alarm, I sat up quickly, and regretted it. My side felt as if it had been stabbed by a white-hot knife. I looked past my side and looked at my legs. My white Cadmus uniform had been turned red at my right knee with blood, and if I kept the knee bent at the angle it was in, I couldn't feel the leg at all.

I felt nauseous, but I didn't know what sickened me more: my current state, or the fact that I didn't know where I was. I closed my eyes and cautiously laid back down.

Memories flashed through my groggy mind. Memories of finally standing up to Gardling and freezing him and the guards.

Memories of running through the hallways, my heart feeling as if it was going to pump out of my chest. The heated chase with the security guards, and freezing the floor solid. The encounter with Man-Bat.

The mutant flying outside through through the city, with me in it's clutches. Memories of freezing the bat simply by touching it. Falling through the air, then nothing.

This must have been where I landed, but I was really confused on where "here" was. My eyes circled my surroundings.

Three walls surrounded me, trash bags littering the bottom of each. Neon graffiti covered the fading red bricks, no doubt the work of some artistic juvenile. Black concrete underneath me: road.

An alleyway.

Breathing through my mouth raggedly, I tried to calm my racing mind into creating a plan.

Cadmus. They're looking for me.

That was about all I had formulated before the sound of barking dogs came closer. I stood up, trying my hardest not to cry out in agony. I clutched my hand to my side, warm liquid flowing from my wound to cover my fingers. Shuddering slightly, I pulled my right leg up to go beside my left.

Suddenly, a sharp, gruff voice made my blood run frigid. "Let's get going! Gardling wants her alive, and he sure as hell will have our heads of we come back empty-handed! He wants her alive so don't shoot her. Not fatally at least. Move out!"

My breathing slowly turned into hyperventilating. It was clear now that I had to move.

I limped off as fast as I could, repeating in my head to be strong and keep going.

You have survived everything these monsters have put you through. A cut and a sprain shouldn't stop you.

Full with my newfound motivation, I ran faster, clutching my side tighter than before. "Over here!" another voice rang out. "The dogs got something, looks like blood or something."

"Did you find the girl?" The original voice yelled.

"No." The second voice said.

"Then I don't care about the bloody puddle, keep looking if you don't want Gardling to fire us!"

Black spots started to pepper my vision. But I kept on limping my way thorough the streets. Left, right, left. Right. Straight, left turn.

I had no idea where I was going.

Falling on my knees painfully, I stopped in front of a rusty warehouse. Breathing hard, I raise my eyes to the warehouse's doors. It creaked open, and I stood up abruptly.

About three people strung out of the door, buff and goon-like. They lugged behind them a couple of clear crates. I squinted my eyes to see what was in the crates.

Tubes of bright red liquid were stacked in the crates, looking luminescent in the early morning light. The goons were starting to open the crates, when one of them looked my way. He nudged his comrades and I could faintly hear them laughing loudly.

The same goon who noticed me moved over to me, his comrades moving behind by a distinctive distance. I tried to move away, but my knee wouldn't allow me. The black spots were starting to slowly overtake my vision.

"You...look lost." The goon said. I could smell cigarettes and alcohol on his breath, so strong it was almost nauseating.

"I'm fine." I muttered loudly, trying to stand up.

"Let me help you there, cutie." He said, his voice laced with poison. I felt him grab my arm and pull me.

That's when I punched him in the face, keeping my other hand on my wound. He yelled and his grip on my elbow tightened. He tried to kick me in the shins, but my instincts kicked in and I pulled his leg and threw him behind me.

I heard him groan, and that's when his two buddies charged at me. The first guy to charge smirked at me and sneered, "You just got lucky."

I didn't have the strength to make a comeback, so I just punched him in the inside of his elbow. He stepped back, I kicked him in the stomach, and then kicked him in the neck. He fell back, and the last goon just ran towards the crates.

Instincts.

"Freeze!" A new voice rang out. With my blurry vision I saw a person in black and blue flying. A blur slammed into the last goon and stopped. The blur was seemingly a person.

I must've hit my head harder than I thought.

"Who's that?" A young voice yelled, pointing to me.

"A suspect." Another voice, feminine this time said.

Suspect?

Then everything was black once again.

(approx. 1000 words)