Stereo Blast Volume 1 [MxM]

Chapter 3.3

He jumped to his feet, yelling out as the stretch pulled his bleeding muscles. Without a second thought, he shot up at the helicopter. He missed. He shot three more times. The last shot hit the propeller. The helicopter swerved off balance. The person on the right controlling one of the lazor guns fell to the side and clung to the lower rail.

The other gunman pulled their gun and shot down at Taylor.

Taylor jumped across the last feet between the metal net and the bridge. He fell between and as he looked down at the freezing waters below, he raised his gun and shot the last of his bullets.

He was caught in a slow motion of time. He hung suspended in the air, his breath held, and the racing of his heart slowing to silence. The bullets shot out his gun and he couldn’t count, couldn’t even see where his gun was pointed, but he heard them. Glass broke. One shot went through the windshield.

The others were lost.

The next seconds flashed by so fast he couldn’t remember them. One moment he was airborne, falling to his death, and the next he was encased in a block of ice.

Water. It wasn’t ice. It was water.

It stung his eyes and stole his breath. He held up his hands, reaching for the metal railing, but as his hand enclosed over it he was met with nothing. The metal was farther away than he could see and his legs weren’t working as they should. He fought the water with all his strength, kicking out his arms and legs. It was stronger. Its currents pushed him back, fighting against him as he tried to swim to the surface. His back ached and his wound was on fire. The black waters engulfed him and dragged him down.

Above the surface, he saw red. Red flames.

Before he could think, the fire broke the surface. What he saw was the remains of the helicopter. Glass, metal, and whatever was left of it crashed through the water. It slowly fell around him. He blinked, the last of his vision bleak and dimming. A black mass loomed above him. It was coming down. He had to move.

But his body was sludge. He fought the invisible weights tied to his arms and managed to swim almost halfway from the falling metal. The red flame burned across the water’s surface. Oil. It was everywhere and gas as well. The water wasn’t enough to put the fire out and now it would burn until the fuel was gone.

The thoughts running through his head came to a halt. He was blindsided by the floating debris and the fire burning above him. Everything was coming together in one fusion of trouble and mayhem he couldn’t control. He tried as hard as he could to swim up, but the last of his breath escaped him. His lungs burned as he reached closer to the surface and it was there, a few inches from his fingers. He was close to air, close to being able to breathe again.

Something grabbed his leg.

He yanked his leg back and jerked his head down. His eyes looked straight into the black eyes of a woman. Her black hair floating out like a halo around his head. Blood drifted from the cuts on her face, polluting the water. Her clothes were military grade and her face was pulled into a snarl. Bubbles raised from her mouth. She was running out of air like he was.

But instead of fighting for her life, she’d chosen to finish her mission. She’d rather die with him than let him escape.

Taylor kicked her in the face. Her head flew back and blood gushed out her nose. He raised his hand to shoot her, but it was empty. He’d dropped it when he hit the water. Not sparing a second, he searched his jacket for his knife. It fell out from his pocket and fell down in the water. He shook his head as he stretched his arm out, but as his fingers grazed the metal end, the woman knocked him to the side. His hand flew passed the handle. She grabbed him by his hair and yanked his head back. He couldn’t see her, his eyes staring up at the surface. It was so dark and cold. He was losing his sense of touch.

She wrapped her hands around his throat. He grabbed her in the same way in retaliation, but his grip was slight. His fingers slipped and he was making do difference. Her glaring eyes looked into his and she smiled. He went limp in her hands. She kept staring at him, waiting, but after a moment, her hands went searching in his jacket. The realization was then.

The vial.

He waited for her to find it and when her hand stilled, he knocked his head into hers.

She made a noise as she fell back in the water and tried to cradle her head, but he was already upon her. He jabbed his fingers into her eye and pressed as far as his fingers would go. The nasty feeling of the soft tissue breaking beneath his nails made him frown, but he kept his posture. She jerked and clawed at his hands, but he wrapped his legs around her waist.

Then, she went still.

He dropped her body and immediately searched his jacket. The vial was there. Safe.

With a new surge of energy, he kicked his feet and swam to the surface. The fire blazing had settled, but it was still raging strong. He reached a part of the water that wasn’t overtaken by the flame and broke through.

He gasped. The air surged through his lungs and he choked on the water pouring from his nose and mouth. He panted, never before so grateful for the toxic smell in the air. The districts might have been trash, but it was better than down in the water.