Determined

7.

Len rummaged through the drawer of guns, knives, and other weapons in search of his ring. Miku and Yohio stood behind him tensely, scanning the area for enemies. "Goddammit, where is it...?" Mumbled Len as he swept aside yet another simple handgun. He tapped his foot impatiently, his frayed and agitated nerves refusing to allow him to stand completely still. 

"What're you looking for?" Yohio asked. Len's fingertips grazed a beautifully carved dagger with a pearl handle and a design of two hummingbirds intertwined in an eternal, frozen dance. He pocketed it, because obviously the owner had little to no use of it anymore, but he still wondered if it was wrong of him to take it. After a brief moment of thought, he decided that he probably needed it more. He continued to rummage through the drawer, but still, he wondered the story behind the beautifully carved, and somehow melancholic, dagger he'd just pocketed like a thief in a supermarket, and what became of the owner. Seriously? I'm thinking of that here? Len thought to himself with a scowl. I'm losing focus- or getting soft. Christ. I never would've even considered shit like this a year ago.  He put those inquisitive thoughts in the back of his mind, to be found later when he had the luxury to think of such things.

"My ring. It's-" A gunshot rang out, hitting a ruby camaro which sat quietly next to them. "Shit!" Len cursed. He pulled Miku down and got in front of her, crouching behind the car and drawing his gun. He peaked around the camaro. Five men, two with guns, one with steel knuckles, and two with daggers stood defensively. One of them shot at him, hitting the table nearby. He drew back behind the safety of the camaro.

Yohio shot at one of the gunmen and ducked back to safety. The scowl on his lips told Len that he missed. "We can't stay here. We gotta move." Len whispered. The men stopped their advance, and instead seemed to be talking among themselves. Probably to form some kind of strategy.

"What- where the hell are we supposed to go?" Miku responded, gesturing toward the closed garage door. Len shrugged.

"Not here, Hatsune. Just move, behind..." His eyes scanned the room, landing on a lime-colored 70's Chevelle nearby. The thing was scratched up, but otherwise in half-decent condition. Most importantly, it was nearby. "That green car. I'll hold their sorry asses off for a bit." Miku looked worried. She bit her lip and grabbed his arm tightly, as if he didn't have the strength to make her let go, and as if she didn't have the strength to do it.

"You're nuts, Len. Are you serious? You're gonna hold them off? Only you? It's like you want to die-"

 "It's a win either way-" He interjected. She smacked the back of his head. 

"Shut the hell up." She muttered. "Are you sure you'll be fine?" He rolled his eyes. 

"If that'll make you feel better." She gave him a look and he sighed. "Yes, whatever, I'll be okay. And I have you, anyways, to patch me up, right?" She scowled at him. 

"I'll just let you bleed out this time." She muttered. Another shot rang out, the bullet exiting the area of the car door a few inches from Len's side. 

"Ok, deal. Get your asses moving when I say, and try to start the car." Len poked his head out and readied his gun. The two gunmen were gradually advancing, but the other 3 were nowhere to be seen. He turned to Miku and Yohio before nodding curtly, before standing and firing immediately. 

He was met with mutual gunfire and ducked once more, though this time below the car. He shot at someone's ankles; they fell as a result, and he wasted no time in planting the next bullet in their face. 

He pulled himself from out of under the car, this time on the side closer to them, and shot one man in the chest. Two of the five were down; three to go, and only one with a gun. Len liked those odds. Two men charged- one with the dagger, the other with the steel knuckles. As the one with the knuckles swung, he swerved to the left and grabbed the back of the other assailant's collar and used him as a shield. Len saw a tooth and blood fly following a scream of pain and the sound of flesh against metal, and thanked God it wasn't him. He threw the man toward him, making him stumble back in surprise. He aimed his gun, but before he could shoot, his instincts screamed at him to move. He ducked, and a bullet whizzed by, hitting the knuckles guy in the throat. Had he stayed there, he would've been shot, and he doubted he would've survived. He turned toward the shooter and another man, (Len swore he wasn't there before, but he also wasn't confident in his math skills, so who knows) who charged with a raised dagger. Under immense pressure, Len shot lazily toward him, but missing because he had more important matters to deal with.