User:RemipunX/Remi's Story/A Shot in the Dark

Fishel hated the dark. He hated the things that lurked inside it, he hated the way the dark stole the things he treasured, the things he held so dear. But, most of all, he hated the way the dark made people act. Every night, the sun would sink below the horizon, and the insane would come out. Gunshots would echo across areas devoid of zombies, people would scream and shout, and set aflame their own safehouses. Fishel knew that tonight would be a night like that.

It was only 8:30, but the sky was pitch black, save for the moon, a small sliver of light peeking through the clouds. Fishel made sure his pistol was close. He had spent long enough in this damn city to realize that nowhere was truly safe. For years, Fishel had been living in a state of constant vigilance, of constant suspicion, and of constant fear. It had changed Fishel, he no longer laughed as he once did. He no longer felt the same warmth inside his heart.

He hadn't seen Remi in months, she was lost to city. Every time she crossed his mind, Fishel felt sick to his stomach. She represented everything Fishel fought for, the only reason he hadn't perished long ago. But now, he couldn't find her. And that scared him.

Fishel was stirred out of his thoughts with a gunshot. It was close, and a woman's scream followed shortly after. Fishel drew his pistol, and headed towards a small building on his left.

A sudden crack split the air next to Fishel's head, and the window in front of him shattered. His heart skipped a beat, and his mind screamed out to him.

GET INSIDE!

Fishel broke into a sprint, hoping to get inside before the sniper could reload. He leveled his shoulder, and shoved it into the door with as much force as he could muster. The door split off the hinges, and fell inside the building. Fishel ran inside, just as another round snapped by him. He pressed himself against the exterior wall, and looked around for something he could use.

Great. A bar.

Unless he was going to challenge the sniper to a drinking contest (which Fishel would easily win), he was going to have to think of something...

-Fishel

18:43, 25 October 2010 (BST)~~

The mask was gone. She still wore the clear plastic rain slicker, her white dress always pristine underneath. She'd given up on her white shoes, going back to her beloved black leather boots that came almost to her knees. She'd acquired the gas mask from a corpse a few weeks after regaining her will to actually live. She'd tucked her jet back hair within her top hat, one of the few things she'd acquired during her time with the Fortress that she still kept. Other then her cell phone...

No messages had come through in days, but she'd heard whispers. Being oddly dressed in Malton was not something to notice. It was as if the disease had wiped out any notice of dressing style. Remi's mind wandered to Zuton, ever the fashion queen, cutting down zed wearing a strand of pearls. She was sure that Zute would have fits over her current look, reminding Remi that she was a girl and covering every inch didn't protect her any more then a sundress would. The thought of her friend made Remi's chest ache, and forced her legs to get back into motion.

It was easy to drift in thought when there was silence, but silence never lasted long. The sound of gunfire made her drop to the ground. Dog, ever present, pressed protectively beside her as she tried to figure out where the gun fire was coming from. Remi knew that she had shot down a few survivors in her day, but there was a good reason for each. Rapist, murderers, the dregs of society who were making it so much worse for those that were just trying to live to the next night. She had also taken bullets for her practices, called names for fighting in her own way. Being a knight was tiring, and she gave it up with her mask. She just hope the bullets were not meant for her.

Beside her Dog became restless, sniffing at the air and whining. Remi was well stocked, her pistol clips fully loaded, two shot guns strapped across her thin back. Her backpack rattled with bullets and FAKs, she was ready to defend herself against zed or zealot. Add in the ears on her companion and she was as safe as anyone in the damned city.

Dog took off, a black streak shooting into an open building further up the street. Keeping low, well aware of the chance of more gun fire, she followed her friend. The building he'd gone in had no barricades on the door, usually a bad sign for any inside. Another shot cracked just as Remi made it through the threshold, throwing herself out of harms way. Landing not very gracefully on the floor she got one pistol in hand, trained on the open doorway. As she looked over the tip of her gun the figure against the wall came into focus.

He always had the weirdest ways of showing up right when she was trying to not think about him. She thought about flinging her cell at his head, but realized she'd probably have to put her gun down in order to do so.

"Are those for you?" she smiled, her voice showing the shear joy she felt at seeing him. She nodded her chin towards the outside, her back still pressed to the floor, gun level on the door. It was about the happiest she'd been in months, and she was sure her chest was going to burst from the swell of emotion.

- Remi

18:43, 25 October 2010 (BST)~~

Fishel heard the panting, and the sound of an animal approaching the bar. He aimed his pistol towards the opening in the wall. Another thunderclap, and another chunk of the wall he was hiding behind sheared off, sending him diving for the floor.

Just as he hit the ground, a giant dog bounded into the bar, and quickly hid behind a table.

Where have I seen that dog...?

But, Fishel had no time to search his memory. The sniper was firing wildly now, bullets shattering what bottles of alcohol remained in the bar.

Unskilled. Probably insane.

Fishel had dealt with these murderers before. They were unstable people with a gun shoved into a lawless wasteland. They were just as dangerous as the zombies that filled the streets. You could always tell who was a zombie, but you couldn't tell who was going to shoot you in your sleep. Fishel hated them. They had killed so many people...people Fishel knew...people Fishel loved. Every time Fishel passed a body, dead from gunshot, his mind burned with hate and rage.

But, as much as he wanted to run up to the sniper and beat him to death with his own rifle, he knew that this lunatic had his number. If Fishel stood up, he'd get drilled, and the sniper was hidden amongst the ruins across the street. Unless he was stupid enough to walk out in the street, Fishel was pinned down.

But, another sound caught Fishel's ear. Footsteps. Running footsteps. Once again, Fishel aimed his weapon for the door. But, instead of a dog, this was a person. A person Fishel knew...

"Remi?!"

Fishel wasn't sure what to think when he saw her. He was happy, of course, that she was still alive, and still okay. But, his heart sank, he had always wished that Remi would make it out, that this city would release her from it's hellish embrace, but, here she was.

"Keep your head down! Jesus kid, you could've gotten shot."

Fishel softened for a second, and instantly regretted shouting at her.

- Fishel

18:43, 25 October 2010 (BST)~~

Remi flinched a bit when he yelled at her. Kid? She had the sudden urge to remind him that she was almost legal drinking age, not that anyone checked for ID in this ring of hell. She managed to just roll her eyes at him, sliding farther back away from the door on her back. Far enough back that she could press up against the bar to stand, never letting her gun drop from its aim in the doorway, she wiggled to her feet.

"We're pretty good at what we do," she smiled behind her gas mask. A bullet whooshed past her, making her ears ring as she bounced to stand against the wall directly behind Fishel. She was already looking him over, her eyes searching for wounds he wasn't tending to, anything that she could possibly tend to now that she'd found him again. Her mind wandered, just for a second, back to the church, but she got back to the situation at hand just as soon as the memory flooded her mind.

Sliding her gun back into one of the many straps wrapping her waist she freed her hands long enough to pull the gas mask down, then got her weapon back in hand. "Much easier to talk without that in the way," she said, and almost cringed at her own voice. Do I always have to sound like such a dolt? No wonder he calls me kid...

"Is there a warrant out for you?" She asked as another bullet hit the bar not far from where she had been before. If there wasn't a reason for the bad shot to be trying to take Fishel down then Remi could deal with the sniper the way she'd been trained in the Knights. She just wasn't going to tell Fishel that till she was done.

- Remi

18:43, 25 October 2010 (BST)~~

By now, Fishel had slightly relaxed. The bullets were less of a danger, and more of an annoyance by now. The sniper was unskilled to the point almost being a non-issue. Still, Fishel kept his head down. Even the least skilled man could get lucky from time to time.

Fishel shook his head. As far as he knew, nobody had a mark on his head. All his old foes had died long ago, most by Fishel's hand, and his new enemies liked to think of themselves as honorable men. Fishel hoped that it was just an insane murderer, those were easy to deal with. Bounty hunters, they just kept coming...

Remi looked much different than Fishel remembered her. It had been a long time since the church, too long for Fishel's liking. Every time he saw her, he told himself that this time, he'd take her with him. But, every time, he would reconsider. Fishel had the unlucky habit of attracting gunfire wherever he went, and Remi was the last person he wanted caught in the crossfire.

But, it had been a hard time since Fishel last saw Remi. The zombie hordes grew in number every day, and the survivors grew more isolated, and more insane. Even though he was still trapped in this city, just Remi's presence made it bearable. Fishel never knew how much he needed that until just now.

Still, duty called. No matter what poetry his brain could cook up, a bullet would put a cold stop to it. Fishel slid down the wall, so he could reach a large shard of broken glass on the floor. It was dirty, but reflected just enough. He slowly moved it out the broken door, and stared intently at it's surface.

A flash, and a report.

"Building across the street. 3rd floor, 2nd window from the right. See it? I can cover you, try and look for an exit out back. If not, we can hole up in the backroom until this idiot runs out of ammo."

Another thunderclap, and this time, a sharp crack. A lancing pain shot up Fishel's arm. He swore loudly, and immediately raised a hand to the wound. A bullet had torn through the wall he was hiding behind, and glanced off his shoulder. The skin was torn, and it was bleeding, but he could still move his arm.

"You might want to get ready to go. He's got a bead on me now..."

- Fishel

18:43, 25 October 2010 (BST)~~

Remi was always in awe of Fishel. No matter what was going on, who was hurt, or what bullets were flying, he always kept his cool. Right now, for some unknown reason, a man was trying to shoot him, and Fishel was standing there, looking like just about the calmest man on the planet, let alone Malton. She didn’t understand how he did it. She was sure that her nerves were evident to all that were around her. It wasn’t actually the case at all, she seemed to most on the outside to be painfully detached. When she was in the Knights KF would comment on the fact that the small girl seemed like a ghost most of the time, taking every attack as if it were nothing at all, rising with each stick and just moving on.

She couldn’t see this in herself at all. Fishel’s words had stung because she thought they were true. She was a kid. No matter how hard she trained, no matter how long she stayed on her feet she was a kid. Each member of TZH she took down didn’t lesson the fact that she felt lost and scared almost every moment. Except when…

Fishel’s words broke through her thoughts. She went still, listening to what he said, already laying a map in her mind on how to get to the mad man. Remi was good at this part of the game. Aim her at a target and she would end it. That silent, creeping ghost that she became when stalking someone didn’t ever give up till a target was completed.

It struck her that Fishel had to know what she was going to do. Her mind flew back to the warehouse, how disappointed he’d been in her. Had his thoughts changed? Or was he just okay with it now, and would be angry with her again. Her fingers went to touch her gas mask, pale digits dancing over the glass that would cover her eyes. She’d given up her theater mask, leaving it to comfort a child who was much more in need then herself. She stood against the horde with Fishel, till they over took the mall. Weeks later a needle had brought her back, alone again in the waste land that was her home. She’d not sought out the Knights. She sent KF a text telling him thank you. She was sure he knew she wasn’t coming back. But she’d not changed all that much not being with them. TZH still stalked her tracks, and she woke more often then she wanted with warm breath on her neck that was not her own. A bullet and a slash of her knife and she’s be free of them, but it wasn’t how she wanted to live. Not that anyone on Malton truly got to live.

Before she could push off the wall another bullet cut through the wall, striking her friend. She froze, fear creeping into her large blue eyes. She lifted her hand, signaling for dog to find her a way out the back. Before following her companion Remi pulled her mask up, covering her face in glass and plastic. Standing completely still for a split second her hand found Fishel’s, tangling her fingers in his. She wanted to say something, push out some kind of words. She remembered the church, the tiny glimmer of happiness, and just wanted him to know she remembered. But bullets kept coming, and she let his hand drop.

Without a word she was off. She’d been in the city so long with Dog that without command they could guide one another. He found the door she needed, and silently took her out into the wasteland outside. It was a quick sprint across the street to the building the sniper hid in. He was distracted, firing random bullets towards Fishel. Her mind wanted to panic with worry, the need to make sure he was safe almost overwhelming her. But she crushed the thoughts down, cold focus taking control again.

The building was completely open, something that made Remi pause. Running into a building was a fearful thing in Malton. You never knew if it was empty, or if there were zed, happily feeding on those that were seeking safety. Dog was inside in a flash, and the girl ran after him. His sense of smell was one of her better defenses. Somehow the mad man upstairs had found an open, clear building to use as his hiding place. He was two flights of stairs up, Dog leading the way, Remi, guns still in her waist belt following behind him.

The third floor was completely devoid of doors. It took her a moment to get her bearings, eyes finding the opening that lead into the first room. She had no idea if the man was alone, or if he was even a man for that matter. It did seem like most of those that went berserk like this were male, the women instead reverting to mindless objects of amusement when their self worth ran out. Another bullet rang out, the crack loud now that she was so close. Pausing, she made sure that her plastic raincoat completely covered her dress, then slide a pistol from her belt.

It had stopped shocking her what killers looked like. It did, at first. Members of TZH ranged from kids, younger then her, shooting and raping as if it was a game, to beasts of men, taking the names of the animals they looked like. The man leaning out the window, his back to her, was just a man, nothing more, nothing less. Completely plain in every possible way. Remi didn’t like shooting people in the back. Even if they were nothing more then scum, she felt like everyone had the right to see what was ending them. Steadying her gun she stepped into the room.

Click, pull… boom.

Click, pull… boom.

One bullet into his leg, another into the shoulder bracing the rifle. It was strange, the way the human body bent when bullets struck it. She was already standing over him, knife drawn before it even seemed to register on the mans face that he was about to die.

“Citizen, for the crime of attempting to take life, and your complete lack of respect for the bullets you waste I bring you a present. Learn from this, rise with a renewed want to live… or just stay dead.” Her knife moved out, dragging across the flesh of his neck. Blood, moving out of the wound, fighting for its own escape, pooled around her boots. Standing, watching as her plastic rain coat changed from clear to pink where the blood touched her, she pulled her gas mask back. “Praise Knowledge.”

- Remi

18:43, 25 October 2010 (BST)~~

All it took was a touch of her hand to take down Fishel's guard. If she had been any other person in this city, Fishel would've raised his defenses at her touch. But, when she wrapped her fingers around his, Fishel lowered his eyes to meet hers. It was a moment that Fishel would never forget. In her eyes, Fishel saw so much. He saw the things she wanted to say, the things Fishel wanted to hear. It would be the last time Fishel would see her this way, as an innocent. As a kid. As something he could not become close to.

And, without a word from either of them, she was gone. Fishel wanted to run after her, and almost started to, when he realized what she was going to do. A pang of fear shot through him, but it was quickly replaced by steely resolve. As she dashed across the street, Fishel rounded the corner he was hiding behind, and fired towards the building. His pistol kicked in his hand, roaring fire and sound as he slung bullets towards where he thought the sniper might be.

With a click, the slide locked back, and the firing pin clicked on empty metal. Before he could get back behind cover, the rifle reappeared in the window, and fired again. The sniper was scared now, this was the first time Fishel had returned fire. A loud crack shattered the air on the left side of Fishel's face, the bullet missing his head by mere inches.

When Fishel took cover again, he couldn't help but to grin to himself. No matter how many times he had come close to that line, every time he returned was a cause for celebration. Remi had made it inside, and the sniper didn't see her.

That poor SOB...He has no idea what kinds of hurt are coming his way....

Fishel quickly reloaded and stayed hunkered down, as more bullets rained down on him. The sniper was scared now, his shots becoming more frequent and less accurate by the second. But, two reports from inside the building sounded different. They didn't have the raw power of rifle rounds, they were more muffled. And, when Fishel didn't see the rounds impact the bar, he knew that the sniper was done for.

But, even that didn't stop Fishel from worrying. He moved across the street, and into the sniper's building. Drawing his pistol, he quickly moved up to the third floor, and quickly found the room where the sniper had been. When Fishel turned into the room, gun drawn, he was taken aback.

Remi stood over the body of the sniper, holding a knife. Her raincoat was no longer clear, it had taken the tinge of blood-stained water. In almost a moment, everything that Fishel had thought of Remi was gone, replaced by this image. Fishel wasn't revolted, quite the opposite. It was almost like she had come into her own in his mind. He had never seen her act like this, act like him. A part of him grew sad, her innocence that had kept Fishel going was gone forever, but it was replaced by respect. He had never known the sting of "kid", the cruelty of marking her as something that needed protection. Fishel didn't know what he thought of her now, but he knew that she didn't need his protection. And that made him feel...different. But, he didn't quite know how yet.

Fishel holstered his weapon, but didn't speak yet. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. He didn't know what to say to her, but he hoped that this would suffice until he found the words.

- Fishel

18:43, 25 October 2010 (BST)~~

She could see Fishel out of the corner of her eye, ever watching for another person sneaking up, a zed who managed to get somewhere they shouldn’t. Remi froze, unsure how he would react. She’d not meant for him to see her like this. She’d had a well formed plan in her mind. Clean her knife, leave the rain coat behind, and get back to Fishel without him seeing her like this. Her heart couldn’t take him looking at her like he did in the warehouse ever again. And then it had been him just seeing her mask, not seeing her with a mans blood running off her.

He holstered his gun, walking towards her with purpose. She tried to remember to breath, still frozen, knife in hand. He won’t yell, he won’t yell… she chanted silently to herself. The feel of arms circling around her, warmth coming through the sheet of plastic that protected her skin. The tension that had kept her body taught like a rubber band relaxed, an audible sigh filling the silence of the room.

Her and Fishel had an odd physical relationship. She would hold his hand, bump her head on his shoulder, childish ways of seeking affection. The closest they’d come to a proper hug was in the church, curled on a dusty floor to sleep. She would follow him around, thinking of herself as his shadow. The first time she’d met him had been in the Tavern. She’d been with the Fortress for just a few days and was nervously trying to meet people. The Tavern was loud, full of men with big egos and bravado. Fishel bad been kind to her, even with his gruff demeanor. She’d called him Mr.Fishel, something that still made her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Things shifted with them, time apart, then together again. And now he was holding onto her, and her mind was just as confused as it could possibly be.

She finally found words, keeping her head tucked down, her cheek pressed against his chest. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to some how make him flee from her, to decide he needed to go take care of something else while she stood there not sure what to do or feel.

Her voice was barely a whisper. “I’m getting blood on you…”

- Remi

18:43, 25 October 2010 (BST)~~

Fishel couldn't figure out what to say to her. Sometimes, there are moments that change how you look at the world. Before this moment, Fishel thought of Remi as someone fragile, someone that would suffer if he got too close. But now, he saw his foolishness. She wasn't a vase, she wasn't an idea, a paradigm of innocence. It hurt him, knowing that he could no longer protect her from the vil of this city. But, he realized that it was a lost cause from the beginning.

He wasted his time trying to protect her, trying to keep her the way he thought she should be, instead of who she was. He thought that he protecting her by staying away, but, he realized that he was just hurting her...and himself.

He had made this mistake before. He had found someone he had loved, and he lost her. And, that had kept him away from Remi. He blamed himself for Roci's death, and he couldn't let that happen to Remi. Not her. Not again. But, that distance, that fear had kept him from her. Not anymore.

When Fishel was young, something his father said had stuck with him. He had forgotten it, forgotten it's wisdom, until now.

David, let me tell you something. You find something you love, and you never let it go. No matter how hard it is, no matter what you have to do, you fight for it. Let it sustain you, let it be your rock. And, never give up on it.

And, now, he finally understood what his father meant.

Fishel smiled at Remi, her concern about the blood almost made him laugh.

"Well, I'll have to find a new suit anyway, this one's getting a bit threadbare. Don't mind the blood."

With that, Fishel reluctantly let Remi go, and moved over to the body. Fishel kicked him over and looked at him. He seemed normal enough, no uniform, no markings. Just another insane man with a gun.

You deserve what you got...

Fishel turned to Remi and nodded.

"Let's go. Nothing more for us here."

- Fishel