Instability

※ 15 ※

There are two ways I could handle the situation. I could shoot this awful traitor or let her go free. As I press my gun harder into Taylor's head, I almost burst into hysterics because I'm still deciding. Taylor whimpers and begs me to not kill her.

I laugh like Daniel would if he was in my situation. "Shut up."

With a surprisingly quiet bang, Taylor falls face-first onto the ground, an ugly-looking bullet wedged into her flawless skin. How ironic.

I pocket my amazingly-quiet gun and drag Taylor's body into the thicket near the broken road. With lots of loud crunching, I leave her towards the base of a tree with her mouth taped shut and a flyer stuck to her shirt.

Good work, Ashley.

I blow a wisp of hair out of my eyes, panting slightly. I walk back to the street and pick up the flyers from the ground. I pull more flyers out of my backpack and zip it back up again, placing it on my back. I jog what feels like fifty more streets, tacking flyers everywhere. The farther I run, the lighter my backpack weighs.

Luckily, I don't run into any people. After an additional hour or two of exhaustion-filled running, I spot a figure at the end of my street. I fumble to reach for my gun but the silhouette raises its left hand and salutes. I jog tiredly towards the silhouette as it transforms from a black shadow into a sweaty Danny. Seeing him worn out makes me even more tired, but it's the good kind of exhaustion, the kind you get from doing something good.

"Had any trouble?" Danny asks happily.

"Only one person," I say. "I left her in a patch of woods."

"Do you know who it was?"

I clear my throat. Danny's eyes widen at the prospect of my declaration. "It was Taylor, Danny. The Taylor."

Danny stares at me for a moment, and his eyes drift over my left shoulder. At first, they're empty with hurt, but then his eyebrows furrow and his eyes squint. I give him a questioning look, and I turn around to face an empty street, except for...

"Ashley, get down," Danny hisses, forcing us to the ground. The small pangs of bullets zoom over our heads. I roll once and rush to crawl into the dark undergrowth nearby. Small rocks stick into my elbows as I pull out my gun to aim at the three targets down the street. I fire a few bullets, finally hitting one of the figures. The silhouette crumples to the ground in a heap, but the remaining two continue to close in on us.

"C'mon, Cardry," Danny says gruffly in military-mode as he shoots the second person.

I take a deep breath, close my left eye, and carefully aim instead of firing blindly. I follow the target closely as it continues to come closer. I hold my breath as I pull the trigger. As soon as my bullet enters the man's body, I feel his bullet skim my shoulder.

The small scrape barely hurts, but it opens a would in my shoulder. I sit up to inspect the damage, leaving my gun to lay next to me on the ground. I carefully touch my shoulder and feel the stickiness of blood through the tear in my shirt sleeve. I hear Danny rise from his shooting spot and run over to our three targets. I stand up roughly to go to join him, wiping my blood onto the grass.

As I search each man for distinguishing features, I notice they are all dress in government uniforms: gray polos, black pants, and gun holsters with the ISA emblem sewn into them. The men must be from the enforcement office. A thought flashes across my head, reminding me of Taylor's outfit. Gray skirt, white blouse, and a... an empty gun holster.

Why was Taylor outside to begin with? Was she really on night patrol? Did officers come to look for her when they heard me shoot?

I don't get time to answer my questions because dragging a man across the pavement becomes too difficult. I pull the guy with all my might to the side of the road and roll him into the grass. Hmmf, that should do. Thankfully, Danny has already taken care of the two other.