Avenger's AOU~ Oblivion. { Quicksilver Fanfic }

Chapter 24: Ambush

    I watched as the shadow of the stranger vanish behind the trees. I was too shocked to move, measuring his voice and his last words.

Just because.

Insightful. I tried to get up but my body was captive by my mind. Something about all this made me feel safer if I stayed here. For some reason unexplained, I don't know. It's like looking at an image through two feet of muddy water; you couldn't see the whole picture but you knew it was there. And for me I was missing almost the entire picture, unsure what was going on. Maybe, just maybe, this guy isn't bad news.

I mentally punched myself. Do you hear yourself? He sliced you up then beat your buddy to a pulp!

Pietro.

    I felt a pang of guilt. No I knew I couldn't just wait here like a sitting duck for that monster to come back, well or whatever he was. I had to get back to Pietro and make sure he was okay.

    I got to my feet but only to be knocked back down by a sick wave of nausea. I glanced down at me bloody arm and winced. Even in the dark I could make out the small cut on my arm. It had begun oozing red and the surrounding flesh was dark purple, accenting some of my veins. I instantly felt dizzy thinking of the infection this was probably causing. Okay, this won't be fun. I stood up again and leaned against a tree. I reached up and grabbed a small branch giving it a yank.  The small branch fell to the ground I involuntarily moaned. It was just the right size about the length of my forearm. I then ripped off the hem of my shirt. Halfway through the sound of snapping twigs caught my attention. I froze, keeping my eyes on the dark forest unknown. Nothing.

    I quickly went back to work, my adrenaline beginning to kick in. I still had my bag across my shoulder and I gratefully sighed. After sifting through it my hands found home. I pulled out my canteen and poured the water over the ripped fabric, damping it. Then I placed the rugged stick behind my wounded arm and tied my little tourniquet around it.

    As soon as the wet cloth met my wound I let out a small cry. Mortified, I bit the inside of my cheek, praying no one heard me. After a few agonizing seconds I had tied off the bandage with a grimace.

    "Looks way cooler in the movies." I murmured as I scowled at the bloody mess of a tourniquet.

    Another cracking noise brought me to my senses. I snapped my head up and glanced around. Still nothing. I needed to get to Pietro before something else happens though, and my heart was pounding. I backed up slowly away from the noise before turning on my heels. I didn't get a chance to react when a dark figure grabbed my hair and covered my mouth.

    "Shh," It whispered.

    My eyes focused in my shock and I gathered the dark blue jacket and red ring around his neck.

    "We need to move," Pietro said. "Right now."

    He looked exhausted and beat up but the pain and fear in his eyes terrified me. "What's going on?"

    He shook his head and grabbed my wrist. I yanked it back. "Pietro, what is going on?"

     He looked down. "I just need to get you out of here."

    "Is it because of that man?" I asked timidly, thinking how I literally walked into that trap.

    "Agent Wesson." He breathed angrily. "And no, far worse."

    "Agent?" I asked hopefully.

    "Not what you think. But Quinn, please, we need to go. Right now."

    The urgency in his voice scared me so as many questions as I had on my mind had to wait. I nodded and he turned towards the direction where I last saw him. He wrapped his hand around my wrist, but not in a hurtful way, just like he didn't want to lose me. This sudden change I saw in him was strange. He was closed off and angry most of the time, but when he was broken down and hurt, he showed this other side of him. Maybe the real side of him; a side I wouldn't mind getting to know.

    After a few moments of treading the ground Pietro froze, his hand flying out signaling me to do the same. I could only see the back of him but even from here I could see, feel, how tense he was.

    "What is it?" I dared to whisper.

    But instead of answering I got an impatient wave of the hand. He was still, peering behind the brush at something. I took a step forward to see if I could make out anything as well, but as soon as my foot fell a shot rang threw the air.

    "Quinn!" I heard him scream.

    I was thrown aside, my back hitting a tree. My ears were ringing from the blast but the gun shots ringing threw the cold night was overpowering. People really liked throwing me into things I've noticed. I landed on the hard ground, feeling every ounce of my energy magnify by 100 and at the same time being shot down.

    I got to my feet looking for Pietro.  But instead of being met by him, someone's fist had made contact with the side of my head. I knew the blow was meant to knock me out and I admit colors flashed before my eyes but it would take more than that to take me down. I turned and jabbed my elbow into the assailant's side. He gave a sharp grunt before attempting to kick my feet out from under me.

    I jumped just in time for his leg to miss mine and landed on his back. I grasped my arms around his neck and yanked back with all my might. The man backed up into a tree, clutching at my hands, gasping for breath. I could hear gunfire from maybe only a half mile away and Pietro was nowhere to be seen. I felt the body beneath me go limp and I let go, letting him fall to the ground. No sooner did he hit the ground did another pair of hands find my own neck. I didn't give them time to tighten their hold. I twisted around as fast as I dared and kicked them in the gut, sending them flying back.

    I was feeling pretty proud of myself for not rusting up from lack of training; I even let myself smile a little. But my pride quickly melted away when the barrel of a gun was pressed against my back followed by the sound of it being cocked.

    Then my lips curled into a sick smile. "Don't you know to never make contact with the gun and the actual person?"

    The voice belonging to the person breathed shakily, and I instantly could tell he was nervous. "Is that so?"

    He was definitely new to this, maybe training but that at that. I smiled at my luck. With a quick motion I had turned and kicked him in the stomach.

    "Yeah," I answered.

    But the boy recovered much quicker than I had expected, hitting me in the head with the butt of his gun, sending to my knees.

    "Son of a-" I cursed under my breath as my head pounded. Anger flooded through me as I shot up and grasped the gun from him before he could react. In a second he was laying on the ground, the gun in my own hands, aiming strait at his head.

    My finger gently squeezed the trigger, awaiting the certain death of the young man in front of me. But then I hesitated as I took him in. He was young, seventeen maybe. His dark hair was mused and his dark eyes were frightened. His clothes were tattered and he had a long row of bruises running his left arm. His whole demeanor screamed fear aside from one thing. He had met my eye contact, not blinking nor tearing away. The noble death. Reminded me of a couple people I knew.

    I cringed as the thought flew through my mind and I was slowly lowered my gun.

    "Who are you with." I said sternly, keeping my composure.

    The boy blinked, the dirt outlining the crevices in his face making him look much older than he was.

    I hesitated. He wouldn't answer me and I knew that if I kept asking him it would be pointless. He may be the enemy, or whoever he was with, but he was loyal. But then again I couldn't leave him to follow me or worse. I lowered my gun and pulled the trigger.

     I could hear him scream but I was already running. I had shot him mid-thigh area so it wouldn't do any permanent damage but it would keep him immobile. My legs kept pumping adrenaline through my body, but my mind couldn't multi task. I admit Pietro wasn't my main concern. In fact, all I could picture was that supposed "agent" attacking me, his clear blue eyes and the way he spoke. And as I ran through the patched forest strewn with stray branches and dark hilts of savannah grass, I pictured the place he came from and more importantly what he was doing here. I figured if Pietro wanted to find me he would, and it wouldn't hurt if I ran into that estranged agent along the way.