Part 1
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Why? Why couldn't he keep his smart-ass mouth shut?
The gun clicked and Castian shot to the side. Dirt erupted inches from him in the wake of a bullet. Way too close. He pushed his arms up under him, forcing down his awareness of the flaring pain in his wrist and, well, everywhere else. With a push he launched himself up, feet slamming into Lizard Cop's chest.
The sheriff flew backwards. Castian scrambled the rest of the way to his feet, reeling in the chain with a sharp tug. It hurt like hell to do. The people watching were beginning to react. A shot rang out and his legs reflexively dropped, as he flattened himself. The bullet whizzed by where his face had been. A window shattered somewhere behind Castian.
Lunging forward, still on the ground, he grabbed the sheriff's dropped gun. The man was struggling to sit up, the air knocked out of him. Castian put the gun level with his nose.
"Tell them to not shoot at me, or I'll blow it off. Honestly, it will probably be an improvement."
"Stop!" A voice came from the crowd. The sheriff only stared at him and wheezed. Another gunshot. A bullet hit the dirt near Castian's leg. "Stop!"
Quickly, he glanced up. It was the man from before, the wiry one. He stood in between them and the group of men with guns, everyone else seemed to have fled into hiding when the shooting started. "Stop, you'll hit them both or he'll shoot him. Dammit, stop."
The sheriff got in a breath. "Shoot his face off!"
So it was like that then? Fine.
Castian looked him in the eyes. "You broke my wrist." He shot him in the face. Castian had never fired a pistol so old, and it actually had some kick to it, he still hit his mark.
The sheriff screamed, hands flailing up at where his nose had perched.
"An improvement." Castian leapt to his feet, the sounds of two gunshots following him. He jerked Sherif No Nose with him, ignoring the man's shrill curses, and his bloody flailing fists. Most of the hits missed, and the ones Castian was unlucky enough to catch weren't hard enough to hurt. He'd probably pass out from bloodloss soon anyway.
With a firm hold on the back of the man's shirt, he drug him between himself and the men. Shield obtained. A struggling shield that knew more swears than the proudest sailor, but still a shield.
The others were swearing almost as foul.
"Let me go!" No Nose shrilled out, voice bubbly from blood and panic.
"Say please," Castian suggested, dragging him backwards. He held the sheriff awkwardly with his right hand, the chain pulled and drug off the left. It weighed his gunhand down, and the pain felt like his bones were being pulled apart. He leveled the gun between the man's legs. "Tell them not to follow me, and stop moving or I'll shoot it off."
He should have threatened that before. The sheriff went stiff as a post, and absolutely still.
"Stop!" The word was almost a shriek. "Stop shooting at him! Don't follow him!"
That was more like it. The others shouted back, questioning and outraged.
"I don't want to kill anyone else," Castian said, pulling the sheriff backwards, gun still firmly in its place, "but I will. I will shoot every last one of you if I have to. Castian watched the others, some of them were gone. Not good, they would probably try flanking. The last thing he needed was hit on the head. Again. Or shot in the head. He glanced behind him at a deserted street. There was no one in sight, probably all hiding from the stray bullets. God, he had not meant to get into a pitching shoot out. Assassins should be above all this shit.
YOU ARE READING
An Assassin In Time
Science Fiction(ON HOLD) If time couldn't hold you, what would you do? Castian was born inside a Field, outside of time. He has no timeline. He belongs nowhere, and anywhere. The Field he was in was destroyed when he was young, and he and four other children...
