The promise between us

Chapter 14: smoke

The smell of gun powder and mud filled my nose making my eye's water; all the sounds dulled by the pounding in my ears and the sting of the bullet in my leg reminded me that I am really here.

My once light brown shirt is covered in many layers of muds and grass, my hair a tangled mess that looks more like a nest then actual hair.

Mark's eyes stare straight ahead with his hands on the machine gun, his trigger never easing as the bullets fly from it. My eye's sting from the smoke and the small trail of blood leaking down from my eyebrow.

My own hands hold a metal killer, who's every curse takes a life from someone who runs out in my eye sight, the smell of gun powder and mud don't come close to over powering the thick, hot smell of blood in the heavy morning fog.

Seconds, minutes, or maybe its hours pass and the scene is still the same. the ghosts of the men who just fell float into the fog making it thicker and harder to tell who is a friends and who is a foe.

I don't flinch anymore when I pull the trigger, I just let the bullets fly out of the barrel aiming to take someone down. All the mercy in me gone and replaced by need, by revenge, by hurt, and by hope.

"Krisa, come on!" Mark says over the gun fire and I follow him as we dash to hide behind a van.

Mark holds his shoulder where he has been grazed and I limb along trying to keep together.

"That's the tent where the head of this whole operation is," Mark says nodding towards a dark green tent, probably met to sleep a dozen; its off to the side as though its untouchable. Mark puts more bullets into his gun then hands me a clip for my gun. "Once we are over there, on my signal, we will go in." Mark says staring at the tent as though some of his darkest memories are just behind that opening, then again, they are.

I nod in agreement, my ears still ringing and my throat dry with anticipation and fear.

Slowly Mark crotches over to the tent and I do the same, we both stand just outside the opening; I look around at the battle we are about to exit just to enter another one, all the men out here yelling and cursing, blasts and explosions echo through the dead environment around all of us.

Mark looks at me then to the text, I nod understanding that its time to find out what is behind this door, to see if the man I love is still breathing.

Mark and me burst through the door at the same time, my gun held right at the man I first lay my eye's on.

My body pumping so much adrenaline I'm shaking and I cant even register that one of them is actually Taylor.

The first man I see is short, pump and his head is buzzed, the hat on his head leaning into his eyes, and his smile so smooth that it looks like a thin, silk ribbon just about his butt chin. His right hand on a gun that is pointed at Taylor's stomach, his other hand holding Taylors arms roughly.

The second man is around the same height as Taylor, but his gun is pointed at his head. He looks at me and it sends chills down my spine, his smile is awkward and filled with teeth yellowed by tobacco.

"So you must be Krisa." the tall man says, not asking; he is stating a fact and he says it so casually as if he is an old friend.

"Give him back to us." Mark says his gun never faltering its aim at the mans face.

The man laughs evilly and shakes his head, "Tsk, Tsk. there is no need to rush you own deaths, that will come soon enough, but I would like to ask a few questions." he says smiling again, leaving me feeling gross.

"So my dear, where were we? oh that's right, how did it feel going to Taylor's funeral." he jokes with a burning stare into my eye's.

Taylor struggles in the mans arms, but in return gets a smack in the back of his head with the butt of the gun.

"I died that day." I say with as much confidence at I can muster.

The two men laughed and the shorter one even looked at Taylor for second laughing.

"If that's true, how are you here now?" the shorter one asks whipping a tear from the corner of his eye with the back of the hand his gun is in.

Mark and me take this opportunity to shoot.

I hit the taller man in the chest and Mark hits the shorter man in the head.

The shorter one falls to the floor right away, but the taller one glares at me and takes step, but falls face first on the dirt floor, blood coming out of his mouth.

It was almost too easy, but then again they underestimated us. they were so sure that we wouldn't kill them, but as you can see, we just proved them wrong.

Taylor stands there, blood splattered on his clothes with a blank, yet shocked face.

He looks at me and I stare at him, he really is here.

He takes a few steps towards me and I take in a deep breath, how many times have I imagined this moment sense I found out he was still alive.

"Taylor." I whisper, my voice a stranger to me even, Taylor doesn't reply, he grabs me and holds me so tight in his arms that my ribs are already bruising, his lips crash into mine like the ocean meeting the cliffs edge, and he savors every movement that our lips make just like I do.

My head cleared from everything else but his lips.

My heart beating uncontrollably.

My body pressed as tightly as humanly possible to his.

All the things around us disappear and I cant help but treasure the moment and not care for a split second about the rest of the world.

Because right now, I have my world in my arms and I don't need anything but him.