Two Bullets

Chapter One

Aiden ran through the street, as fast as his feet could carry him. His breath sped up in the approach : the building that loomed in the distance, or whatever was left of it seemed to advance towards him, but not fast enough.
The glass dome had met the ground, several walls of glass had clashed with the concrete but yet, this place would be his best chance on survival.
There was no other way around it, Aiden knew that very well. Even if this would still somehow result into a dead - end, that would be it.
Aiden would turn around, stare his future in the eye and refuse the offer. He would not become like them, brainless, just walking to survive, waiting for a wonder to fall out of the dark and troubled sky.
No. He would stare up at the heaven, say his prayers and end it with one single bullet. Maybe it would have saved one's life, one who had been running too for 2 years now. One just as exhausted and drained, one just as scared and desperate as Aiden. One that had gotten onto the rim of his or her own possibilities and ready to give in: to only just waste a bullet on another corpse that didn't belong to that person.

Fortunately, it didn't have to go like that just yet. The shopping centre no longer had doors or a clear entrance but there was one: very well hidden underneath the sea of shards and other pieces of buildingmaterials: plastic, iron bars, copperthreads, even more concrete...
Aiden dropped himself onto his knees and started digging. The glass cut through his skin and flesh like a blade through butter. He winced but he couldn't possibly stop. He was forced to continue by Time's urging hand: seconds kept fleeing, none of them took a time - out to give him a fairly needed break.
He dug on, even though his wounds came in contact with gravel and heavy rain. It washed the blood away, that created rivers of blood, running over his wrists and arms. The crimson liquid dripped down onto the glass and rocks that he anxiously threw around to find that one way to safety. To warmth and comfort.

Aiden found it, with only a minute before the bullet. He threw himself onto his belly and crawled in navy-style. He purely rested his body on the sharp ground and pulled himself forwards. A slow but effective way, and most of all: quiet.
One squeak, one noise could suffice to respawn the deaththreat he had just escaped.
His breathing finally calmed down as he could hear himself pant again, it echoed throughout the improvised tunnel in which he only just fit.

The sound of raindrops still slipped into his ears, but not as deafening anymore. That moment he realised that he had made it out. Somehow, someway, he was still breathing. There was still blood coursing through his veins, and out, obviously.

The tunnel came out into the far end of the main hall, since the front had 'vanished'. The ceiling had come down and now served as a critical wall. In a miraculous manner, it hadn't shattered when it collided onto the floor and so it still had a purpose: only a fool would destroy that, it could be the perfect hide-out for any survivor in here.

Aiden carefully pushed himself up. Tears stood in his eyes, the glass and dirt was paining him and even though there was no one there to watch him, to judge him or to mock him, he yet had the urge to man up and get it together, that dominated his mind.
The instant he looked about, he smiled through his watery eyes. Everything was still intact, just the exact same way as he had left his safe-zone. Yet, his true nest probably did get pillaged and destroyed but that was a worry for later.
He had other priorities on his mind. Priorities such as gauze for his hands and new clothes to replace his current outfit with, due to the shards that dug deep into his flesh like teeth of piranhas. He scowled as his eyes landed on his shirt and jean, he had truly loved those.

Unfortunately, a dark blue T-shirt doesn't mingle all too well with the bloodred addition. And the jeans? That poor piece of fabric got torn into pieces to such a degree that even no one from 2017 would've bought it.

He attempted to brush some dirt and glass off, which announced his presence clearly: the hall echoed the sound of a wave of debris and crystals clashing down on the ground. Aiden knelt down to pick up his gun that had slipped out of his pocket, and reached into his bag to find a magazine or at least some bullets. His heart was beating at the speed of a sprinting hare and his head was pounding as if he had drunk too much in a crowded nightclub.