Arms Wide Open

Part 11 Her Only Hope

If Lightning could only breathe... if her lungs weren't feeling like being consumed by fire, breath after breath... if at least she wouldn't feel like she was freaking drowning...!!

The constant coughing already has her chest aching, not to mention the intense pain each movement elicits over the gunshot wounds. The rocks are digging her back too, adding to the cacophony of pain over her body. But above all that, what really clouds her mind, is the fierce need to take in any oxygen into her lungs. And the feeling of desperate struggling from the life growing inside of her.

We can't die, baby! I can't let you die!

A military boot kicks her gunblade off her hand and then falls heavy over her chest, extracting a grunt from her, more blood spurting from her mouth and her wounds, as she meets the cold stare of an ex-PSICOM soldier's helmet. The soldier looks down at her, his machinegun trained on her head, and she wishes with all her might that her murderous glare was enough to drop him dead.

Another bloody cough makes her break eye contact, as she turns her head aside, trying to spit the blood before it drowns her.

"Is she the one?" She hears the other soldier ask with a tone of disgust, an ex-PSICOM obviously higher in rank.

The one on top of her, a corporal (as she can see his rank over his shoulders), uses the barrel of his weapon to force her bloodied chin up, and Lightning glares at him once more, but the man passes it by as an empty threat.

"Let's see... blue eyes and pink hair... it has to be the Lightning Farron, Sir. Though this could be the sister."

The other soldier, a sergeant, sneers. "And who cares? If you miss the right Farron, you can always shoot the other, though it must be this one. She killed our cape with a perfect shot in the head, even though she was already wounded. No one but a trained GC can manage such a thing, and from what I've heard of her skills, only she could pull that off. But if you want to, we can search anyway and kill the other girl, just in case."

"Damn you! Let me go!"

Lightning's blood boils in rage at the words but is distracted by the sound of struggling at her side, and despite the pain and the exhaustion she feels, she turns as much as she can, only to find Hope lying prone on the floor, yelling profanities she didn't know he knew, the sergeant looming over him with his gun fixed on the teen's head and a restraining boot over his back. She can hear the children crying, and a movement of her head allows her to discover them. Michelle is kneeling in front of Hope, holding the little baby with all her might, as Raki is holding them both, tears in his eyes but an expression of utter hate on his countenance. A fourth ex-PSICOM soldier towers over them, his gun pointed at the boy's head, while paying close attention to the scene that unfolds in front of them.

"Stay, you pretty boy!" The sergeant yells at Hope, pocking roughly the teen's head with the barrel of his gun, which makes the delicate skin of his face scratched by the rocks in the ground. "Don't be impatient. Your turn will come eventually, so don't worry."

Lightning feels her sight darkening for a moment, and she can hear the voices like from a distance, but then another set of bloody coughs snaps her to attention... it would seem the coughing attacks are the ones keeping her lucid. How ironic. In spite of the dizziness and the weakness, she tries to rise from the ground at the man's threat, but the corporal keeps a steady pressure on her chest.

"But Sarge, the report never said anything about a pregnant woman."

Though the helmet doesn't allow her to see any expression, the movement of the sergeant's head gives away the rolling of his eyes.

"Just shoot her already and stop complaining."

"But Sarge... she's..."

"If she's pregnant then all the better." He interrupts with a sneer. "An abomination like that shouldn't be born. You'll be a hero for killing Lightning Farron and her cursed offspring."