Soul Jam

Rescue

She was not a fighter. She did not have the strength, nor the will. Those near her lost hope, and her sickness consumed her. She no longer registered the pain that wracked her body daily. She had stopped trying to find a medicine in hopes that maybe it would end her suffering quicker. Death once scared her, but now she was waiting for him like an old friend arriving at an airport. There was no cure.

The girl, with her sickness and her weary soul, dragged herself out to the store. She had to restock on food before she had a bout where she could not walk again. As she leaned heavily against the shopping cart she pushed, she reached up for instant noodles- the only thing she could afford now. Right as her fingers brushed the cup, a thunderous noise rocked the store. Everything went out of focus as she was flung against a shelf, and she clutched her side, trying to regain her sight and breath. Smoke filled the store, and alarms blared. There was only one thing this could be. Someone had set off a bomb. 

She stood, her ears adjusting to the air that still rang. There were lives that had meaning in this store. For some unnameable reason, she needed to save them. Her body was pumped with adrenaline, allowing her to run towards a child's crying. Wedging her body under the shelf, she found a little boy sniffling. He was clutching a stuffed tiger and trembling. He had a shallow cut on his forehead. The woman pulled the boy to her, cradling him in her arms as she retreated from the precarious hiding spot. The kid wrapped his arms around her neck, burying his face into her shoulder. "Shhh..." she said, carding her fingers through his hair. "I'll get you out safe."

A hook whizzed past her, its spikes digging into the display next to her and sending it flying. She turned to see a large man with a gas mask and several weapons. He seemed to be aiming again. He wouldn't be given a chance, as the woman took off, putting a hand over the boy's head protectively. She jumped a table full of candles and made a break for the open stretch between the aisle and the doors, where the police force could be seen trying to make their way through the crowd. Her feet pounded against the floor, sending jolts up her legs as she got within the final feet. Five feet. Four feet. Three feet. Two feet. One foot. 

Something rips through her flesh, digging into her stomach. She dropped the boy before he could be carried with her, and was slung backwards by the man's hook. The spikes did not have the right angle to leave her body easily, and scraped open her abdomen as she hit the wall. A harsh gasp escaped her mouth as blood trickled from her wound and dripped from her nose. She couldn't move, and everything was becoming less sharp. Shooting noises came from the door, and a warm yellow light washed over her. Dull eyes met dazzling blue ones, and suddenly she felt tired. Her eyes fluttered, and the last thing she remembered seeing was angelic wings.