Trapped

Chapter 9

            “I am not letting that happen, we can fight these things off.” Gabe said and Trinity looked at him.  The door burst open and a large dog like thing lunged.  Trinity fired a single shot.  The bullet ripped through the dog’s skull.  It fell to the ground and lay still.  She stepped over it’s corpse and scanned the hallway.

            “It’s clear.” She said.

            Gabe walked over and nodded to her.  She stepped out into the hallway and they started running.  Holding their rifles, ready to snap up and fire, they just ran.  Trinity felt the floor drop out from underneath her and she was in free fall.  Free fall only lasted a few seconds, but she hit the ground below hard.  Landing on straight knees she fell onto the ground and felt a twist in her ankle.

            “Trinity!  You okay?” Gabe shouted dropping down.  Trinity was in a hallway.

            “My ankle, I think I sprained it.”  She groaned standing up and testing it.  She couldn’t put much weight on it.

            “Can you walk?” he called.

            “Yeah.  I can’t get back up there, don’t come down.  I will find my own way around.  Just don’t go anywhere that may not be legal,” Trinity called and Gabe stood up.

            “Alright, you going to be okay?”

            “Just go!  Don’t worry about me damn it!” Trinity snapped.

            Gabe stood and backed away from the chasm that had opened up.  He turned around and walked away.  As he walked, he kept his gun up and never strayed from the hallways.  He turned the corner and saw Trinity standing there.

            “Trinity?” he asked. “Damn girl, your fast with a sprained ankle.”

            He walked over to her and she didn’t turn around.  With no response from her, he put his hand on her shoulder and spun her around.  She grabbed him by the throat and threw him against the wall.  Pain exploded into his back and Trinity punched him across the jaw.  He fell to the ground and held his jaw.  Looking at his hand, there was blood on his gloves.

            “Bitch,” he hissed and stood up.  Bringing his fists up, he punched at her.  She grabbed his fist and shook her head.  He was pulled forward and her fist drove into his stomach as she lifted and twisted.  Thrown over her shoulder, she dropped him onto his back.  Rolling left, her fist missed his stomach and he jumped up.  He kicked her in the stomach and she didn’t move.  Her hand drove into his solar plexus and he hit his knees with no air.  Wheezing, he held his chest.    Standing up, slowly he looked at her and held the wall.  Red in the face with effort to stand up, he went to punch her and she threw him onto the ground.  His handgun skittered away and he looked at it and up at her.

            Reaching out to grab it, her boot stepped down on his arm and she grabbed the gun.  Aiming it at him, she smiled gently and he closed his eyes.  The gun clicked and he smiled.  The gun’s safety was on.

            “Safety’s on,” he smirked before crushing white pain flashed behind his eyes followed by tidal wave of black.