The Soldier and the Wolf

Chapter 7

Though the bang was real, death never came. Not for me at least. I had my eyes shut tight and the muzzle was on my forehead the entire time, but I was still conscious. I was still standing and thinking and breathing shakily. Was my mom's gun filled with blanks? I was about to find about. Very slowly I opened my eyes just so I could see little slits of light. It was still blurry, but I could see the fuzzy figure of my mom standing in front of me still. However, when I opened my eyes a little wider, my mother's face was frozen. She held the gun to my head, but she wasn't moving at all. She stared right at me with this pained look on her face. I swallowed hard and slowly dropped my gaze down; she did the same. Together we saw the redness of of blood soak through my mother's lab coat. She was shot right in the middle of her stomach. It bled through quickly and already started to create a puddle at our feet. The metallic smell of her blood reeked the red liquid glistened in what little lighting there was in the hallway. But who shot her? I felt my mom take the muzzle of her gun off my head and I felt my breath return to me a little easier, but not fully. I watched, as still as a statue, as my mom slowly dropped her arm, and released the gun from her hand all together. She stared at me with the same wide eyes and the fear and shock and pain was clearly visible. She slowly leaned up against the wall and slid down to a sitting position, and I kept my eyes on her the entire time.

When here weak and short breaths became the only thing the fill the eerie silence that followed the gunshot, I regained my consciousness a bit and bent down to my mother. I wasn't sure what to do...or how to feel in that matter. This woman, fighting for her life, was just about to shoot me. But she was a my mother. I was born from her and she raised me...but she ruined my life. I felt myself start to panic and I took deep breaths. I just stared at my mother, who stared back at me. What do I do in this situation? My mother, whose hands were covered in blood from trying to compress the wound, helped and hand out. She slowly moved it towards my face to try and cup my cheek, but overwhelmed by everything, I fell back and scooted in the opposite direction of her. She held her hand out a little longer, wanting me to help her or hold her, but I just stayed away. I shook my head and I tried to keep her from seeing I was upset. But I was upset. Why wouldn't I want to show her I cared for her?

I stood up and pressed myself up against the wall. My heavy breathing returned and my jaw hurt from trying to keep from crying. Then I saw something the corner of my eye. Something I didn't notice before. I turned my head the the end of the hallway, and there stood a new person, completely unfamiliar to me. It as a guy. He was dressed in black leather all over and had utility belts all over him. He had all his weight shifted on his left leg, and his right leg was bent. His hair was at the halfway point of being wet and dry, meaning he must've come out of water or it was raining outside. He has blood running down his cheek and he stared at us through his eyebrows, but not in a threatening way. More of a scared, frightened, confused way. His right arm was pulled in close to his body and curled around his stomach. And finally, his left arm...it wasn't an arm at all. It was some complex and enhanced prosthetic of some kind. However it worked, it allowed the man to use the arm as if it were a normal functioning arm. And he had the gun pointed towards us and at the ground, towards my mother. Even through the craze, I recognized this guy. I saw him on the TV the night before the interview. He was the assassin on the street. The Winter Soldier.

"C...Clara..." My mother's weak voice snapped my attention away from the man and back to her. She had a little blood coming out of her mouth now. She only had a little time left. "Clara help me..." she reached her hand out again.

"No..." my voice cracked and I shook my head several times. "No...I...I can't. You ruined my life." But she continued to try and convince me other wise.

"Clara, listen to me...I...I can help you." I fell to my knees and continued to stare at her.

"No, no you can't. You'll use me. I can't...I can't help you." My voice cracked several times and I watched as blood tan done my mom's chin.