The Radiant War

Chapter 8b

     The two soldiers had clear shots at his back. They could kill him any time they wanted. They were shouting at him to stop, no doubt aiming their pistols right at him. If he didn't give himself up, they would shoot him dead. He slowed to a stop therefore, lifting his hands, but then he saw that the wooden fence separating the alley from the bakers shop yard had rotted through. He plunged through it, rotting planks scratching at his head and arms as he did so, and found himself in a bare concrete yard with an exit onto the street. He ran for it, thanking Those Above that he was still dog enough to be able to outrun a declared human. Not enough to be able to outrun bullets though...

     There was the sound of a pistol being fired and a bullet whined past his ear just as he reached the street and ducked out of sight behind a wall of obsidian bricks. Momentarily out of sight of the pursuing soldiers, he skidded to a halt and returned to the wall, crouching down behind it, and when the first soldier ran into view he threw himself at him.

     He slammed a fist into the soldier's stomach, winding him; a move that the Brigadier had told him would totally incapacitate a man for several seconds. Long enough to kill him or escape, whichever suited circumstances better. He then threw himself at the second soldier who was also just coming into view. I must be mad! he thought as he grappled with him, one hand on the wrist of the hand holding the gun as he tried to prevent the soldier from aiming it at him. Why am I doing this? My chances of getting away from them are tiny. I'll get myself killed! I should have waited in the conference room. Spent some time convincing Mornwell that I'd genuinely changed my mind. An opportunity to slip away would have come sooner or later. Instead, I’m fighting two highly trained Helberian soldiers at the same time, both of whom are perfectly willing to kill me rather than let me get away. And even if I do get away, I'll be a fugitive from my own people. I should just give myself up right now. Just surrender. But if I do that, they'll put me under guard and I'll never have another chance to escape, and Benjamin has to die! As soon as possible before he does any more damage.

     He continued to grapple with the soldier, therefore. He felt the bones of his arm began to bend as their muscles strained, the cartilage beginning to give way under the load. He’d been a small dog before he'd been adopted, and he was still smaller and lighter than a declared human. He couldn't beat him in a trial of strength, so instead he head butted him as hard as he could. The soldier gave a cry of shock and pain, and Malone’s hand went from his wrist to the gun, twisting it out of his grasp before he knew what he was doing. He threw the gun as far as he could, then reached for the first soldier's gun. The man was still gasping for breath but was struggling back to his feet. He was holding his gun loosely, but his grip tightened as he felt Malone's hand reaching for it.

     The man he'd head butted grabbed him, his arms going around his arms and pinning them to his sides. He pulled him back, away from the other soldier who raised his weapon, but Malone kicked out with his feet, connecting solidly with the pistol and knocking it out of his hand. Then he bent his head down and bit hard on one of the arms holding him. His jaws were still dog enough to have a lot of bite force and he still had long, sharp canines. They penetrated the guard's sleeve easily and bit deep into his flesh.

     The man cried out, then cursed, and Malone used all his strength to wriggle out of his grasp. The other man’s gun had fallen into the gutter and the soldier was stopping to pick it up. Malone threw himself at him, knocking him away from the gun, then scooped it up himself, throwing it as far and hard as he could without looking to see where it was going. Then he ran. A hand grasped at his sleeve and almost caught hold of him, but he slipped free and ran, desperately hoping that neither of them would be able to recover his weapon in time to shoot after him. His back itched as he imagined a bullet tearing into it at any moment.