Rosile

Part 2: Outbreak (3)

Published on site: April 20, 2011

Author's note: Neglected yet important character gets some spotlight.

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     I’ve decided that for today we will do something a little… different. I mean, haven’t you ever wondered what our horrible and unattractive antagonists are thinking? I was able to make some repairs and upgrade the systems, so we should be able to watch over them for a short while.

     I know a few of you might be thinking this will ruin the mysterious aspect of our terrible foes, but it won’t. Trust me on this.

Chapter 13

I am not Adolf

     Now, the thing that inspired me to come up with this idea is the current situation going on. Right now the three were being chased down on a conveniently abandoned highway by that ruthless gang from Las Vegas. You remember them, don’t you? The ones with the mohawks, nailed bats, and all those other dangerous objects? Well this time they merely had guns and rifles in their possessions, but that was a bad thing. They carelessly fired away with a stream of bullets that scattered about all across the road, half of which not even grazing their target. Still, judging by their wicked laughter it didn’t seem like they cared as long as they had fun.

     Shinta, being the miraculous man he was, had his head sticking out from the roof of the truck with his own weapons ready to fire back. So far this battle had gone on for over twenty minutes, but despite the pressure of a major disadvantage he was able to get support from below. Lily was doing her best to keep her driving steady, but at the same time maneuvering it lane to lane so that it was harder to hit. As for Kyo, he immediately handed Shinta a new weapon each time the one he was using ran out of power.

     It was a bloody mess. Shinta had already taken out three men, who had fallen off their bikes and skid across the ground until their bodies were no longer recognizable. However, the leader that had been up and in front of the gang this entire time was not focused on that. His eyes were narrowed and burning with hatred, yet such anger made his aim terrible, and he kept missing the truck with each shot. The others were able to at least get a few dents and holes through the windows, and a couple even scratched Shinta, but he was the only one not getting a single hit anywhere.

     Of course, this sort of fighting could not last forever. Eventually the gang ran out of ammo, and unlike Shinta they had no spares to switch to. Thus, after Wolfgang threw down his weapon in defeat, he veered off to the nearest exit, causing the rest of the gang to follow.

     …What? Oh, I forgot to mention Wolfgang was the leader, didn’t I? I’ve been so unprofessional lately! I deeply apologize for that.

     Hopefully what is to come will make up for that.

<INTERMISSION>

     The brute gang had decided to take shelter for the night in the middle of the desert. They had inflatable tents pitched up that were large enough to fit ten people, and many were sitting around the heater as they chatted with a beer at hand. However, Wolfgang was not one of the people surrounding the artificial fire. A lean, unkempt man, who was well over six feet tall, was wandering between each tent searching for him. His face was gentle and thin, despite how much of a mess his black hair was. You could barely see his wolf ears that peeked out underneath, but at least his short, curly tail was visible.

     Suddenly his ears perked up as they picked up a sound. It was a scream. A loud, angered, howling scream that echoed throughout the camp. The man quickly rushed over to where the sound was coming from, but froze as soon as he saw what was inside the tent. Feathers and shards of glass littered the floor, and the bed sheets were torn to shreds. It looked like a hurricane had struck the place, and luckily no one else besides the man in the corner was there. It was Wolfgang, as you might have expected, shivering and clawing at his arms until they were coated in red droplets.