HERE'S CHAPTER BLOODY 8 FOR YA
Also, new characters coming in next chapter. Think they're fairly interesting.
*****
A massacre, blood splattered across every surface, bodies strewn across the ground like insects. Every single one of them police.
The McGins were sitting at the bar, enjoying drinks that they prepared. Blake looked over at him from behind the bar.
"Eyy! Jack, we were waiting for you!" He yelled over to him. He popped the cap on a beer and took a swig. "Where were ya?"
"I was gonna ask you the same thing!" Jack yelled, the anger in his voice consuming the distress, brushing his hand through his hair for effect.
"I just had to fight my way through a crap ton of cops alone, and I blew one of the buggers up! Y'know, if you walk just over there," He pointed behind him. "You'll find what's left of him."
All of the McGins just silently stared for a second, then sprinted to see the mess.
"HEY! I THINK HE'S STILL MOVING!" Red screamed back, sounding like a giddy school-boy.
Jack just stood there, shaking his head in disbelief. "I just killed a man!" He yelled in anger at their ignorance to the fact.
"No you didn't," Samuel said, pulled out his pistol and shot the cop. "Technically, I did."
"Holy Mother of God..." Jack said to himself.
"Oh," Blake sounded off, chucking a object over the counter that looked like a ball, "Caught up to Malattia, by the way!"
It was Vito's head he had chucked over.
What did he get himself into?
After grabbing anything they could sell or use off of the cops, Blake buggered off to talk to the lady.
Jack watched on from the doorway as the lady and Blake. Jacquie , her name was. She was apparently some sleeper agent the boys have. They were discussing her family's protection. Something about they can't go back, she'll never be the same, yada yada, she bursts into tears about her sister, apparently she's being held hostage, yada yada, they're gonna have to help, something else.
Ah, shit, now I need to write that, don't I?
Red took the injured officers and did basic bandaging for them. The boys would leave them there as messengers. Spreading the word.
Blake said something inaudible, before patting Jacquie's shoulder. He turned and yelled "Alright, cops are comin' and we have another job to do."
Red nodded and hopped into the car.
"Let's get back to the pub, than."
After a quick visit to the pub to get their guns and stuff —that were even more than just illegal, dat shiz was downright blackmarket— they were now joined by Jacquie, and were speeding towards Mathoura.
"Same deal? Bursting through the door and killing stuff?" Jack asked, in the back seat of the fairly menacing Terradyne Gurkha LAPV the McGins stole and painted with Banshee insignia.
Subtlety be damned.
"Yup." (Got a bit of calamity coming along now, do we?) Blake said, tapping the assault rifle in his lap to the sound of the new pop-song released onto the crappiest station, it was actually quite annoying.
"Ugh, this song is annoying." Samuel said, switching it to the classical channel, then to rap.
Okay, now for some different perspective.
Kate was now speeding down the highway in a stolen cop car that went surprisingly fast. Seriously, this new, near future technology is incredible, 'cuz it's the near future, in case you didn't realise...
Uh, future stuff.
She turned the police radio on, a faint static erupted and dissipated.
With a sigh, she turned it back off, and let there be silence, apart from the low hum of the engine.
A heavy cloud of distraught hung over her, she needed to find her brothers.
PERSPECTIVE FLIP!
The brothers were now head banging in unison to "We Like To Party" by The Vengaboys as they sped down the road at break neck speed, their windows down.
To no surprise, the police were on their tail, ready to arrest them for speeding, driving a stolen vehicle, murder, assault officer, and many more crimes.
Blake loaded his rifle and passed it back to Jack. "Kalashnikov," he simply said. As Jack gripped the weapon and felt the weight, the thought crossed his mind.
KENNY CAN HE KILL THE AFRICANS? black people are all British
He shimmied out the window and the thought was sprinting back and forth in his head and within another few seconds he would pull the trigger and possibly end the life of a man who has the intention to do the same to him, but he still didn't know.
Can he kill?
The thought was smashing at the walls of his skull, something that would be impossible to ignore.
Can he kill? Can he kill?
He squeezed the trigger and a bullet hit the drivers hand, causing him to lose grip of the wheel and the car turned before stopping as he slammed on the brakes.
The McGins drove away as Jack stared back at the car, blood splattered along the windscreen and an audible screaming was heard.
"Good shot, now get back in the damn car!" Blake yelled. "And don't scratch the gun! It's Kalashnikov!"
He said it as if it was a designer brand.
With a smile on his face, Blake was tapping along to Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival as if nothing happened and Jack had a look on his face as if he was having a Vietnam flashback.
"Only a couple more minutes, now." Red proclaimed.
PERSPECTIVE FLIP!
Kate switched gear as she accelerated, attempting to make a 3 hour drive 2.
Now, she can get there within 2 hours as long as she can remain at the speed and there are no kangaroos on the road...
There's a bloody kangaroo on the road.
She made a drastic swerve and the tyres screeched like a banshee... I mean the literal banshee, not one of the McGins. The McGins don't screech.
Much.
2 of the wheels left the ground and Kate felt a shift in gravity as it rolled over and landed on it's roof.
Kate sat there, her hands on the roof, supporting her with a reaction of sheer frustration.
"SHIT!"
We'll leave her to cool off.
The other McGins were continuing down the way, completely unaware that their sister had just flipped a car harder than Harambe's body hitting the floor... sorry, that was uncalled for.
But yeah, they were completely unaware of the upside down sister.
"Are we there yet?" Blake moaned in a childish bitch.
"Shut up." Red deadpanned.
"I'm hungry!" He continued on.
"I'll come back there and bitch slap you."
"I'm tired!"
"I swear, Blake Connor McGin, if you don't stop bitching, I will drive this BLOODY CAR INTO A WALL!"
Blake shut up after that.
***
Red turned into a parking lot and switched off the engine.
"Here we are."
"How are we plannin' to do this?
"With loaded guns and empty heads."
"Of course."
They were parked outside a small police station, if you can call it that. It was really just an old house. Samuel grabbed a baton, and noticed Jack looking.
"It's for close quarters. You want it?"
Jack shook his head, "I'll be right."
"Suit yourself."
Blake packed 2 rounds into a sawn off and cracked it shut, passing it to Thomas. He noticed Red then looking up at the house. Jack looked over to the house and saw a cop leaning out the door, staring directly at them. Red winked at him before he ran back inside.
"Ah, shit." Thomas exclaimed. "We shoulda shot him."
"No time to dwell on the past, we should look to the future!" Sam pitted in with. "We should look to the future! And the future is a dark blue -soon to be red- group of men!" He near yelled as he approached the house. "In this very building!"
Blake loaded an assault rifle and pulled a pistol from a thigh holster. He had the guns as if they were big brands emblazoned on shirts, a hoodie with the overpriced trademarks. The 1911, the AK-47, a SPAS-12, and the grenade he had previously.
Jack packed a Beretta pistol into belt and pulled up his bandana. Jacquie was a thing to notice for Jack. She was somewhat disconnected, as if she was watching it unfold, the look of someone who knew they were part of something that they never wanted to think of.
Jack felt near muscle memory from it.
"Jacquie?" Red entered, snapping her out of her trance. "Aim this at the door," He held out a pistol for her. "Any of those bastards step out, you crack 'em down. Alright?"
She kept quiet.
Red went to say something, probably the same thing, but shut his mouth and left the pistol in her hand.
"Okay, Bluey, let the girl go or we'll kill each and every one of you in there. No second chances. No take backs." Red warned.
There was no answer.
He bowed his head. "Guess we'll have to get some more ammo after this."
Red had brass knuckles and a sawn off 1887, Sam had the baton and a TEC-9, Thomas was happy with a sawn-off.
"They would've called reinforcements. We do this quick-"
"Like you in bed."
"Shut the hell up, Sam. Anyways, we do this quick and get her outta there."
Jack cocked the pistol and Blake readied the SPAS.
***
"Okay." The sergeant rasped out with a shaky voice.
"They won't kill you, you're not gonna die." He gulped, fear taking him as he talked to himself.
"Get it together, it's not like they'll actually come barging into a bloody police station." Another officer said. "C'mon, they aren't that du-" He was interrupted by a sharp rapping at the door.
"Woods, get the UMP 45s."
"Sir, that might be-"
"No, get the Remingtons, too."
"Sir-"
"Get everything."
The officer went running. "AND GET SOMEONE WATCHING THE PRISONER!"
He went room to room, telling everyone there about the people outside.
See, normally there'd only be about 3 cops in there, but because of the prisoner they've taken, they need high security. The Banshees were in for a fight.
Blake readied himself outside the door, Red cracking his knuckles behind him, Jack shitting himself at the back.
"We're seriously gonna die." Jack sighed.
"Yeah," Sam chuckled, "We're gonna die someday."
Blake twisted the door handle and stepped back as the door was riddled with bullets. The McGins waited patiently as the police unloaded into the door.
A Remington round and then a light murmur from the police was the end of the barrage, followed by Blake taking aim and firing the SPAS.
The Banshee's flooded into the corridor.
A cop's chest was sprayed with pellets, blood erupting as Blake shot another round off at another cop's leg, it breaking off at the knee.
2 more shots from the SPAS and an officer's guts splattered across the wall before his head was gone. A cop swung his shotgun like a bat at Red, but it was caught short as he grabbed the long of it and punched him in the face. Blake unloaded another 2 shots, missing a cop point blank as he dodged sideways, but Blake grabbed him by the collar and poked the barrel of the SPAS into his stomach.
He fired without a second thought.
Thomas shot off a round from the sawn off and a cop had his ribcage blown out, followed by another cop who got his peppered with pellets over his leg. Thomas walked up to him and stomped his head in.
Red punched a cop in the stomach and beat his head in.
Thomas bent down and picked up the UMP the cop was using. Then he cracked open the sawn off and packed another 2 rounds in.
Blake stepped over the bodies, firing the last shot of the magazine into a screaming cop. He loaded the AK.
A cop prepared to spray the corridor with his UMP but Sam beat him to it, bullets riddling him from the TEC-9, but then a Remington round scraped the wall to their right, catching Thomas' arm. Jack shot at the cop's legs, with blood spraying from his knee. Blake put a bullet in his head.
Thomas fired away with the UMP, relying on the rapid fire to hit something. A bullet from an opposite UMP hit him in the gut, exploding out the other end.
More fire from the UMPs and Remingtons suggested- well, not really suggested, more threw in their face- the fact that they were locked in place, using dead bodies and doorways as cover.
The house was old, early 1900s at the least, and it couldn't take much more punishment. Bullets tore through plaster, pellets bashed at the wooden frame. If there was even a spot of silence in the gunfire, you could hear the creaking of the place collapsing. They had to get this done quickly, Jack knew that.
Thomas was crumpled on the ground, screaming from the pain of the injuries.
Red was crouched in a doorway on the left of the corridor, firing off the 1887 blindly. Blake was using 2 dead cops as meat shields, his face seeming as if that bothered him as much as there being no biscuits in the pantry. He fired a few rounds off and the left side of a cop's face was gone. Sam was the furthest back, and every few seconds he would take a peak out and would hide his head again as the wall was riddled with rounds. That left Jack opposite Blake, some dead fellow's corpse providing a good wall as he sat in a doorway. He didn't want to fire his pistol, in case he killed someone.
But that's what he's supposed to do, right?
They're the bad guys, he's the good guy, he had to be.
His vision was blurred and he let his mind near daydream, he was nearly used to the gunshots and the yells, with them being hear for a minute or 2 now, he could feel the reoccurring push as the body he used as cover was packed with a new set of lead each few seconds, but the scream of Thomas ripped him from that place and put him back here, where he deserves to be.
Jack looked around at Thomas. He was losing too much blood, the way his screams stopped and started showed his state of knowing plainly.
Jack tightened his grip on the pistol, grabbed the dead man's collar and hauled him and himself out into the corridor.
He instantly felt bullets rip into the flesh of the dead man, and cringed as the bones broke in him. Jack dove beneath another dead man, deciding the other fella wasn't going to hold up. He was less than half a metre away from Thomas when a Remington blast ripped a chunk out of Jack's meat shield. Blood sprayed all over him and he screamed with shock. Blake looked over at him and and grimaced at the sight of his brother and friend in need.
Blake emptied his rifle with another spray and heard as 3 police died. He pulled his pistol and shouted to Red "COVER ME!" Before taking aim and firing a bullet straight into a cop's head.
Red blasted at the cops with the 1887, ripping through them as Blake fired away with his 1911. Seeing a window, Jack grabbed Thomas and lifted him in his arms, moving as quickly as he could.
Jack went out the front door and saw Jacquie still there. She had an alarmed look as he came out the front door, but her face returned to the state of blankness it was before until she saw Thomas.
"GET THE FIRST AID!"
He felt Thomas' warm blood covering his hands, his near lifeless body refusing to respond to the movement at all.
Jacquie came back with the first aid kit. It wasn't large, but it was the proper type, no commercial brand here. She told him she knew how to do this. She told him she had an understanding of it.