The Surviving Saints (on hold)

Chapter 2 - The Saints

Chapter 2 - The Saints

My body hurts when I come to. I don't know where I am but I know I'm not dead. I keep my eyes shut and listen to the sounds around me. I hear music playing somewhere and the *crack* of glass beer bottles being opened followed by muffled laughs. I take a deep breath which is followed by a sharp pain in my shoulder. The pain forces me to open my eyes and look for the source of the pain. Looking at my shoulder I see a white bandage wrapped around it. Suddenly I remember the bullet from Lucky's gun that caused me to fall down gasping in pain. I remember the smile on his face before I shut my eyes and waited for the end. I remember hearing a shot and opening my eyes and seeing Lucky fall back, bleeding from his chest. I remember the two men that put him on his knees and put their guns to his head. I remember the prayer.

The prayer, the prayer I learned from my two greatest idols. I've never met them before, only heard about them through rumors. Nobody knows what they look like or even their names. They could be made up for all I know, but I don't care if they're real or not. I do what I do in honor of them.

Slowly I sit up and see that I'm laying on an old pool table. The green velvet under me is stained a sickly colored red. I figure that it's my blood from my shoulder wound. Looking down at my leg I see that my right pants leg is ripped off and another white bandage takes its place. Under my leg is another red stain from my blood.

Looking up I survey the room I'm in. I see creates of beer bottles stacked around the room, some bottles filled others empty. At one end of the room I see a card table with a couple chairs surrounding it. On the table are a couple empty beer bottles and an ash try filled with the butts of cigarettes. In the middle of the table is see a single handgun similar to the ones I own. To my left I see a couple pub tables with their chairs stacked upside down on top of them. On my right lays three sleeping bags that are rolled up. Next to them sits three duffel bags. The zipper on one is partially open and I see clothes inside with a couple guns.

A laugh draws my attention to a door that's on the wall behind me. Slowly I slide my self to the edge of the pool table. This movement causes a sharp pain again in my shoulder. I grit my teeth to keep myself from groaning. Once the pain eases I slide my legs off the edge of the table. Carefully I put weight on my left leg then slowly let a little weight onto my right. I grit my teeth again when a spark of pain rips through my right leg.

I start to force myself to take slow and deep breaths, trying to control the pain. I feel little beads of sweat form on my forehead. Slowly I try and take a step forward, left leg first. When I go to step down on my right, I misjudge the amount of weight I put on it and fall forward onto the ground in pain. When I hit the ground, pain sparks in my shoulder and I can't help but moan in agony.

I hear the laughter stop and a bar stool slide a crossed the wooden floor boards. Foot steps walk toward the door and I feel my heart start to quicken. The doorknob turns and the door starts to open. A stream of bright light falls on me and I squint my eyes against it.

"Ey, Murph, she's awake," the man in the door ways says, in an Irish accent, over his shoulder then to me, "what ya doing on the floor?" He walks over to me and crouches down. "You live, thought we lost ya for a bit there." I swallow nervously and sit up only to have pain shoot through me. The pain must be visible on my face cause the man says jokingly, "hurts bein' shot, don't it?"

I look up at him and actully get a good look at him for the first time. He has medium length, dark sandy brown hair. He wears a black shirt and dark grey jeans. Around his neck he wears rosery with a wooden cross at the end of it. He looks at me with his dark blue eyes and grins. If he was standing up straight he'd be maybe a head taller than me.

"Lets get ya off the floor, Murphy ya wanna help," the man says and moves to my right side. The man he calls Murphy walks into the room and I finally see him. His hair is a bit longer then the man to my rights. It's also a darker shade of brown. He also wears a black shirt but over it he wears a black p-coat. He's about the same height as the other man. When he crouches down next to me, on my left, I see he also has blue eyes, his are a shade lighter.

"Alright, on three," Murphy says, also in an Irish accent, as he and the other man put one hand on my back and the other under my arm. "One, two, three," And they hoist me back up onto the old pool table. The motion causes pain to rip through my body. I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut, fighting the urge to scream in pain. "Easy there," Murphy says as he and the other man take a step back and look at me. I look back at them wondering who these men are.

"Ya have a name lass," Murphy asks me.

I stare at him for a moment before I say, "Rain. My names Rain." My voice, I almost don't recognize it by how raspy it sounds.

"Connor, why don't ya get Rain here somethin' ta drink," Murphy says and the man, who must be Connor leaves the room. "Well It's nice ta meet ya Rain. My names Murphy and that ones my twin brother, Connor."

Not sure what to say in response I just nod and look down at my injured leg. "Your leg hurtin' ya," Murphy ask. I look back up at him and nod. Just then Connor walks back into the room carrying three beer bottles. He hands one to Murphy then one to me says,"here ya go. It'll help with the pain." I take the bottle from him and look at it. I'm not a big drinker but my mouth is really dry. I take the bottle and put it to my lips. As I'm taking a sip Connor says, "So what were ya tryin' ta do out there in the ally?"

What was I trying to do? Rid the world of the piece of shit scum named Slim, that's what I was trying to do. I can't say that though, they would think I'm insane. I swallow the bitter tasting beer and say, "It's a long story, you wouldn't understand."

Connor sort of laughs and says,"fuckin' try me. Me and my brother here, we've seen and head enough to last us a lifetime." At that Murphy grins a bit and takes a drink from his beer. Guess I'll just have to come out and say it.

"I was trying to kill Slim, that piece of shit that got away."

Connor and Murphy look at each other with some look of understanding that I don't get. After a moment they look away from each other and Murphy asks, "why?"

How do I answer that? I think about my answer for a moment and take another sip of my beer. "He was a bad man. It's the only way to stop people like him, killing them I mean."

"People like him, you've killed others before," Connor asks.

"Not for fun. I do it to stop the evil, evil like murderers, evil like rapists, evil like Slim. You get the picture," I say then grit my teeth as a bolt of pain stabs me in the shoulder.

Both Connor and Murphy take a drink of their beer before Murphy speaks. "Have ya heard about the Saints?" This question surprises me a bit but I nod. "Then you know who we are, right," Connor continues Murphy's question.

Know who they are? The Saints, my idols, impossible! I feel my heart beat quicken with excitement. "No way, you guys are them!" I can feel the excitement in my voice as I speak.

Murphy grins and says, "the ones and the onlys."

I look back and forth between the two of them. I can't believe it's really them. Connor, grinning at me throws his hands up. "Surprise."