Unsteady

Fight

    The next morning she’s on his mind as he inspects his food preserves, making sure the fresh ones from yesterday sealed properly. The next couple of days he catches himself glancing at the woods every now and then, waiting for her to reappear. Hoping to clear her of his mind he strings his bow early one morning, before heading out to hunt some small game. By now it’s been almost two weeks, and there’s an ever growing pit in his stomach that’s chiefly connected to his midnight visitor.
    He stalks through the thicker part of the woods, checking his traps as he comes across them while keeping an ear tuned for any animals. The forest is fairly quiet today, which just reinforces his feeling that something is going to happen, and soon.
    Around noon he starts to head back home, knowing these woods like the back of his hand. A rabbit is clutched in his fist, shot clean through the eye. Just as he’s picking his way across the small creek a loud crack echo’s through the still air, sending birds flying into the sky. Voices follow what he now realizes was a gunshot, coming from the direction Em had left. He can distinguish at least three different male voices, chasing after whomever is their prey. Among them the desperate cry of a baby can be heard.
Adrenaline spikes in his veins as he drops the rabbit and pulls out his bow, ready for the intruders. He ducks behind a tree, waiting. Not even a minute later he sees Em barreling through the woods, her arms wrapped securely around the wailing bundle in her arms. Three men are chasing her, two of which for sure have guns. They continue wasting ammo, trying to hit her as she weaves and bobs between the tree trunks towards his home.
After a quick assessment of the situation he pulls an arrow back and takes aim carefully, knowing that more than just his own life is at stake. He sights up the man in the back, cursing himself for his shaking hands. Steadying them he pulls back a bit more, the familiar feeling of the motion calming and centering him. Aiming the arrow to hit where the man's head will be he releases, watching as the projectile finds its home dead center. Directly into the gunman’s right temple. The stranger collapses, noisily and lifelessly tumbling into the dirt. Thankfully his companions are too preoccupied with chasing Em to notice his absence.
Ducking behind the tree again he takes a moment to sooth his racing heart. It’s been too long since he had to kill and he’s at war with himself again. Another shot rings out, jolting him from his dazed state. Em needs him. He sets his jaw and stands back up, eyes darting after the two men that are left. Seeing Em’s red face from running furthers his resolve as he automatically loads another arrow, letting it fly through the air.
But just as he lets go another shot rings out, making him jerk slightly. His arrow takes a path slightly lower than he had aimed for. Instead of nailing the gun-less man in the head like he had planned, his arrow in beds itself in the man's bicep. Screaming in agony the man stumbles to a stop, falling onto his knees while clutching the shaft of the arrow. He coughs up blood almost instantly, the arrow pierced through his arm and into his lung.
Quickly loading another arrow Bobby ends the screaming as the shaft of yet another arrow protrudes from the man's open mouth. Red gushes out as the man chokes on his own blood with his last breath of air.
The final man stands behind a tree of his own, hidden from Bobby’s sight. Em continues to run off to his right, the backpack weighing on her shoulders bouncing along with her, slowing her pace. A fleeting question of as to why she doesn’t drop it passes through his mind, but quickly leaves as his enemy’s gun is fired. The bullet blows apart bark 5 feet from his head. It wasn’t the best of shots, but better than some.
Ducking back behind his tree Bobby loads his bow yet again, feeling the roughness of the feathers and taunt string against his shaking fingers. Peeking behind his tree another shot explodes through the air, this time landing closer to its mark. Cursing he grips his bow and raises it, knowing that what he’s about to attempt could very well end his life. But to save that innocent child in Em’s arms… to him it’s worth the risk.
Sprinting out from his hiding spot with his bow half taunt he raises it and shoots, still running in a straight line for a nearby tree. Hearing a shout of pain and a long string of curses he draws yet another arrow, priming his bow. Glancing out he sees that the man's shooting arm has his arrow protruding out of both sides of it. From the looks of it Bobby didn’t hit bone, but the arrow head still sticks out of the back of the man's arm.
Unloading his arrow he slings his bow back over his chest, sprinting over towards the wailing man. The man’s back is facing him so he puts him into a headlock, not wanting to kill this bastard since he wants to interrogate him. The man has other ideas though as he grabs the gun with his uninjured hand, blindly pointing it towards Bobby’s left shoulder before Bobby can react, pulling the trigger.
Pain and renewed anger surges through Bobby as he grabs the hunting knife in his boot and slams it down the man's throat. He watches with mild satisfaction as yet another man dies by choking on his own blood. He feels morbid humor at the wide eyes and severed tongue. The man clings to life a few moments, coughing up blood and spraying them both. His heart jumps beneath his heaving chest, doing everything it can to save the poor bitch it has to work for. Feebly his hands grab at the knife handle, fear and death written in his dying eyes. Finally he slumps over, his life taken by blood loss and the blade that tore apart his mouth and throat.
Standing over his prize for a moment the pain hits Bobby full force as his shoulder starts to throb terribly. Resting against a tree he starts gasping for breath through the searing signals from his brain and the blood loss. Stumbling towards the house he dimly notes a running Em that’s yelling for him, making a beeline to his shaking body. He manages another stumbling step or two before he falls flat on his face, dazed beyond coherent thoughts. The pain and adrenaline take him over and he passes out, slipping into blissful darkness.