Justice

Meeting Justice

A bullet grazed past my neck as I ducked back down behind the vehicle that I was using as a shield. I hissed in pain, fighting the need to slap my hand over it in favour of keeping both my hands on my weapon, which I so obviously needed.

I pressed my back to the front grill of the car and took a deep breath as the slow drip of blood began to travel down my neck.

Listening to my opposers reloading, I slipped my phone out of my pocket and hurriedly dialled a number that I knew would always pick up.

"This is Chief William Pope."

"Sir," I whispered, catching the phone between my ear and shoulder as I reloaded my own gun. "This is Justice. I need back up, I'm outside of 5842 Newbury Place. My partner flipped on me and ran away." I clicked a new mag into my gun as I waited for my bosses response.

"I'll have people out to you momentarily. Stay alive."

I hung up, holding the gun close to my chest and taking another deep breath to ensure my hands would be steady.

Dropping the phone, I sprung up, firing twice at the large mafia goon to the left, three times at the small accountant who quickly ducked behind the goon for protection and then once at the driver who was trying to creep along the side of the car that I was hiding behind.

Another bullet tore through my left bicep, a harsh cry seemed to rip all the flesh out of my throat, and I had to duck down again to compose myself.

The three men continued to fire on me, leaving me unsure if I had actually hit any of them.

My panic was growing exponentially as time wore on. The car I was hiding behind was disintegrating from the amount of holes that had been shot into it, and I already had two significant injuries. There was no way I was going to last much longer.

So, even though I was in no way religious, I sent up a quick Hail Mary and leapt up. In my frantic, panicked state, I really had no idea what I was thinking. But, I stood up, and I started shooting.

Bang, I shot the driver in the head as he began creeping closer again. Bang, I nailed the accountant in the knee, which caused the goon to whip around and face him in a panic. A fatal mistake that led to me shooting him in the back of the head.

With the three either dead or distracted, I began to make my way slowly around my vehicular shield. I stopped by the man I shot in the head, dropping to a crouch to ensure that his pulse was gone. I pressed two fingers to the pulse point in his neck, sighing with relief when I felt nothing.

Unfortunately, my next move was to spring up as though I had completely forgotten that the other man also had a gun. Shots sounded off, and I spun back around the car, ducking behind it for cover once more. For a moment, through which I breathed like a priest in a preschool, I thought that I had avoided being shot again, but then the adrenaline began to fade, and the pain bloomed low on my right side.

"God fucking dammit!" I grunted. Reloading my weapon, I sprang to my feet, and then I emptied the magazine shooting at the accountant.

The more I shot at him, the more pissed off I got. Because that. Fucking. Accountant. Just. Wouldn't. Die.

He was wearing more body armour than most cars I had driven.

I ducked behind the car again to reload, hearing him creep forward. His shoes were expensive, tailor-made, and very loud against the road. Everything else seemed to fade a way as he seemed to casually stroll towards where I was hiding. Taking the safety off my gun, I raised it in the direction I knew he was coming from and waited.

As soon as his foot appeared, I pounced, leaping forward and stepping on it before propelling myself upwards and elbowing the gun out of his hands, throwing it far away. I jabbed him once in the stomach and then again in the throat before stepping off his foot and using the same foot to kick him in the crotch. He bent to clutch at his jewels, and I raised my foot, placing it on the back of his head and driving it into the floor.

His skull bounced on the tar, and then his body went limp, and he fell on his face.

I heard sirens, cars skidding to a halt behind me, but I couldn't look away from him. I wasn't sure if I had killed him or knocked him out, so I had to make sure he couldn't jump up and catch me or someone else by surprise.

My head pounded, my vision swam, and my gun fell out of my hand.

Suddenly, I was falling backwards.

There was shouting from somewhere behind me, I could hear the sound of people running, and then there were strong arms catching under mine.

The agony that I was experiencing screamed out of me with a ferocious cry as all of my gunshot wounds were aggravated by the sudden stop in my downward momentum. I could feel blood pouring from me as my body became cold. I felt my muscles tighten further, and my body began to seize.

"Christ, David!" I heard someone yell, I was lowered to the ground, and hands held my head steady as my body twisted and bucked. "Fizzy, honey, can you hear me?" The voice filtered into my brain, recognisable and yet not. I'd almost definitely know the person behind it if I could only open my eyes.

"Y- ye- yes." I ground out between gritted teeth.

"Okay, we're gonna get you to a hospital." The voice informed me. "Can I get the fucking paramedics over here, someone is dying!" It yelled.

I felt a sharp sting somewhere I couldn't distinguish, and slowly, my body became still. Then there were hands everywhere. Some checked for broken bones, others looked for hidden wounds, and the ones that I really loathed were packing my gunshot wounds and wrapping me in tight bandages. I was rolled onto my side and then rolled back down onto a backboard.

"Anyone riding with her?" Another voice asked as the backboard was hoisted off the ground, and I was being moved.

I heard nothing in response. It made sense. My partner had betrayed me, and my unit was probably somewhere far away tucked up in bed. Whoever Pope had sent probably wanted to get home and sleep off the day as well. Why would they go to the hospital with a random stranger?

A tear slid down my cheek as I was left to my pain. Half a second later, I realised I was wrong when a warm hand slipped into mine and gripped me tightly.

"You're gonna be okay."