Gods Under The Dome

8.3

《A Warm Welcome》

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Della tosses the boomstick through the grate. The ring of green around her irises thickens. "Activate," she says. There's a boom and then an enormous smoke cloud blows explodes skyward.

"Move!"

Placing her gun in her teeth, she puts two hands on either side of the hole and pulls herself up. She disappears, a few gunshots ring out. There's a scream and then Della's arm reemerges covered in dirt. She helps the Titav one by one through the opening. Her arm momentarily disappearing, as more shots ring out only to be answered by more screams.

Once all the Titav have been helped up, it's my turn. I raise my arm, only to have two hands, large and tan, latch on and pull me up. I'm thrown onto the asphalt, and barely have time to glimpse the person who'd helped me. Black hair, thick brows, sloping forehead, wide nose. Jensen. No Della to be seen. He kicks me in the thigh as he ducks down and, lying on his belly, proceeds to shove his arms back down below. A stream of blood flows toward me. "Get going!" he says. Something buzzes past my ears. I slam onto the ground and cover my neck. "El Accosta reinforcements showed up. Take cover!"

"Where's Della?" There's another piercing screech that slices through the air and then the ping-ping-ping of return shots. Through the cloud of smoke, shadowy figures lunge for cover behind trash cans and brick walls.

"Commander took the lead," Tujo's head pops through the hole. "Get a fucking move on!" Tujo's thrown to the side. He takes a moment to collect himself, before flattening himself against the pavement. His eyes bulge as he spots the blood. I give him a nod and then begin to run, without bothering to look back.

I can barely see my own hands in front of me as I meander down the road, fumbling over crumbled stone and along the sides of buildings. Gunshots ring out, alongside metallic clangs. Small explosions of concrete burst on either side of me, coating my shirt until barely any of its true color remains. More shadows skirt past me like scared beetles on the search for higher ground. I point my gun at each of them in case-- My fingers tremble. The gun shakes. In case what? They were the enemy? And then what? Could I really?

A moment of silence falls over the warzone, but is quickly filled by the clicking of expended cartridges and the subsequent clatter of these onto the pavement. I settle the gun at my side and push myself into a sprint.

A break in the smoke lifts as a breeze passes through and I spy a wall not seven feet from me. I barrel toward it, head lowered, and don't stop until I've slammed into it. The collision steals the breath from my lungs and knocks me to my feet. Still, the gun remains in my hand.

The pain in my ankle roars to life, igniting a heat that feels like I've submerged it in liquid fire. It tears through me, sapping every last bit of strength. A hiss of pain slithers out from between my pressed together teeth. Tears prod at the corners of my eyes. My vision dips out, before returning in hazy, shapeless color. With my free hand, I wipe my eyes, pressing hard enough to elicit another pained hiss from lips. I narrow my gaze, shifting from side to side, scanning the area for something, someone.

A faint glimmer of green causes me to pause. Entrenched behind a dumpster riddled with bullet holes, and shooting at an unseen target up ahead, is Della, her eyes engorged with rage. Her clothes are covered in grime, blood, and sweat. I make to raise the gun, wave it at her, catch her gaze, but a force slams my arm back to my side before it's above my head.

I throw my gaze up, only to see Keran glowering down at me. Smears of blood dot her cheeks and chin. "You wanna make yourself a target and die? Do it on your own time."