The Color of Death is Blue

The Shot

The man may have been great at torture, but he wasn't great at fighting. Keith dodged every attempt at a punch, landing kicks to his abdomen.

Lance grabbed the railing and leaned over, "Keith!"

Leaning too hard on a broken bone caused Keith to stumble. The man grabbed his ankle, yanking it to make him fall. Keith rolled over and clawed at the bloody concrete. His nails scraped the ground as he was dragged back to the man. His eyes locked with Lance's as his stomach was pinned to the ground, "Run!" A cloth was forced into his mouth, pulling his head back.

"Keith! I lo-"

Shiro yanked Lance's arm back, "No time!"

He reluctantly tore his eyes away from the struggling Keith and followed Shiro out the door. Flames of red and gold licked the walls, filling the area with black smoke. Ducked behind a crate, Shiro fired at the soldiers behind them. Bullets zipped through the air and sparked the metal walls. He turned to Lance, "Come on!"

They stayed low and sprinted down the maze of smoke-filled hallways. Various soldiers ran through the building, gathering supplies or searching for an exit. Some didn't even notice Shiro and Lance.

A distant voice made him stop in his tracks, "Lance!"

He spun around, searching for the source, "Keith!"

"Lance!"

There. Lance took off, weaving through the rusty walls. As he ran, he clawed his mask off and stuffed it into his pocket. "Keith!"

Lance passed a hallway with rapid gunfire. He stopped and turned around to enter. Two Galra members were shooting at a small box at the end of a short hallway. Two large iron doors stood on either side. They were too focused on their target, that they hadn't noticed Lance. He took shelter behind the metal. If he didn't think this through, he would die easily. He had to be witty and unexpected. If there was one thing Lance excelled at, it was getting enemies to touch his face.

He took a peek around the corner. The soldier on the right was standing, and the one on the left was crouched down. Lance took a deep breath to calm down then dropped his gun and launched his body forward, sliding on his left thigh. When he reached the standing man, he leaned onto his back and kicked his legs into the bottom of his gun. Then he jumped up and grabbed his arm, pushing the elbow in and bringing his hand to Lance's cheek. He let go when the other man shot a bullet through his left calf. He fell to one knee and swung his wounded leg up to kick the gun from his hand. The man lunged for it and Lance snatched his arm, rolling onto it and touching it to his cheek. Lance limped as he lifted his body off the ground. A pool of blood soaked into his pants. Another pile clung to his shoes, streaming from the mutilated heads of the Galra.

"Well, I'll be damned."

Lance whipped his head around to find a rough Keith standing at the end of the hall. He nodded slowly, a smile on his face, "You were serious."

"Of course I was." Lance's face softened, gazing into his purple eyes.

A loud boom shook the building, spilling more flames and sparks into the halls. Lance had fallen in the quake due to his leg.

Keith grunted and yelled, "Let go of me!"

Lance searched through the flames. Keith was being thrown around by a much larger, muscular man with crazy dark grey hair.

He lifted his body with a tired arm, "Kei-" the flimsy ground beneath him gave out with a rumble, dropping him on a floor of rough, cold concrete. His shoulder ached at the blow and he rubbed the pain away with his other hand. The upper floor wasn't that far away, only about seven feet. Lance pushed himself up to stand. "Keith!"