Sky Dust

Chapter 31

"Let us out!" Rudy whined, getting up on his feet.

"Why should I?"

"We don't do sky dust."

"So what?"

"At least let him go!" Rudy pushed Spencer forward, and he nearly tumbled forward, face-down. "He is innocent."

The soldier pointed up his gun, and Rudy stood in front of Spencer. With no clue what to do next, Spencer opened his pouch. As a gunshot made him deaf for a moment, he stopped moving and fell on the floor.

"So, what now?" The soldier asked. Spencer saw Rudy's dead body with his half-open eyes. His only ally was dead now. Great.

He stood up.

"Don't kill me. Please," he saw the bunch of blood dust on the floor.

"What's that?" She soldier touched the dust with his foot and immediately jerked it away. "And why does it burn?"

Spencer had no time to think now, but some hope. The man seemed to be quite young and inexperienced.

He took more blood dust out of the pouch and threw it down. It landed close to the soldier, and he rushed to pick it up. Spencer tied up the rest of it, desperate to keep it. The man fell on the floor, but managed to shoot out a bullet. Spencer tried to dodge it, but it touched his hip, grazing it. He jumped away before it could do any more damage. Then he was immediately hit by another bullet. He quickly made a connection: if he could dodge the bullets, there would be a possibility of taking the gun. He didn't risk losing more blood dust.

The soldier wasn't shooting anymore. Spencer looked at him and saw him dead. He approached to take the gun, but then he heard more footsteps.

Another man was at the door. Spencer moved at him, but he was paralyzed by the grasp on his wrist.

"Do you have any sky dust?"

Now Spencer could do nothing but play along. He shook his head.

"Honestly."

"If you give your sky dust, we'll spare you," the man smiled.

"I have no sky dust."

"We know you do," The man raised his gun and shot. Spencer picked up his own gun. It was heavy, and he had never used one before. A bullet flew at him, and he fell on the floor.

Then he remembered and threw the blood dust at the man. He winced, but didn't seem to have gotten much damage.

Blood dust didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was survival.

He threw more and more, until the man finally turned away in an attempt to dodge. Then Spencer shot.

It was difficult, but in a moment there was a red circle on the man's waist. Spencer threw more sky dust, stepping over all the dead bodies. It was disgusting, but he didn't care.

He looked down and saw that he had little left. However, that was enough, - the soldier was already dead. Spencer waited for more to come, worry rising up inside him with every inhale. Nobody came.

Now he had to get out. He understood that this was the hardest job out of those that he had to do. The easy part was over.

He wished there was another prisoner with him.