DAX
Itook one last look at myself in the mirror, in a way I felt like I was wearing a costume with the black leather pants, black crop top, and gun holster in full view.
To me it looked like a little kid was trying to dress like Lara Croft from Tomb Raider but for them to believe what I was about to tell them, looking the part was bound to help.
My two favorite knives were strapped to my thighs and extra magazines for my guns were in the pouch on my lower back.
I had my dual Smith it was the easiest to get a gun out of.
The moment my hand curled around the grip, I saw someone running at me, gun drawn and determination written all over his face.
Adrenaline coursed through my body like I was hooked up to a power plant, speeding up my processing time.
I shot him right between the eyes before the sound of the gun going off reached my ears.
I had to get to the exit, there was no way I was going to be able to defend myself in this shape.
Why? Why the fuck so was I so motherfucking cocky that I didn’t wear a vest?
My ego kept me from showing that weakness even when I knew I was being hunted, I wanted to believe that my people that I’ve watched over for the past ten years would have my back.
Fucking emotions, you’d think after getting tossed to the curb by the guys, I’d have learned, but somewhere deep inside, I was still that little girl who wanted to have a family that didn’t leave me.
Slowly, I crawled to the glowing red sign that was my beacon of hope.
All I had to do was get out and to my bike.
Then I could get back to the apartment and call the doc to come patch me up and Wes…
Fuck! Weston! Was he still on the platform or had he been able to make it off without getting hit?
Clenching my jaw, I sat up, all but screaming in pain, as the wound in my back felt like it was trying to steal my soul from me.
My breathing wasn’t getting any better either, in fact I sounded as if I was breathing in water.
My breath hitched, and I coughed, blood splattering around me. No! The goddamn bullet hit my lung!
“Dax,” a voice roared.
I glanced up and there was Eagle with Void right behind him.
Another cough racked my body, followed by more blood dripping down my chin.
Eagle dropped and slid right up to me, grabbing my face in his hands, terror written all over his face.
I could tell he was talking but somewhere along the way, my hearing had gone, leaving the world silent.
I reached out, gun still in my hand, but I didn’t seem to be able to let go of it.
Then over his shoulder, I saw a man raise his gun in the mass of moving bodies and aim it right at Eagle’s head.
I shoved him to the side, pushing him to the ground as I let out bullet after bullet, filling the man’s body with lead but not before he got another shot off and I was flung to the ground.
Now Void was screaming at me, his hands covered in blood as he ripped off his shirt and pressed it to my wound.
My eyes were getting so heavy it was hard to keep them open and moments before they shut, I saw the other Phantom Saints and Weston gathering around me.
Would this be the end to my adventures? God, I hoped not, because now it’s motherfucking personal.