Day 50

Prompt: Write an entry about something you can’t throw away.
I slip through the crowd, sliding between the gyrating bodies. Pope is ahead of me, gun out as he weaves through the crowd. The music swells around us, taking on a life of its own. Welcome to the club, I guess.

Pope ducks out of sight, his gun a glimmer in the crowd. I follow his trail, locking a clip into place, the charges hot against my hand. There’s a hallway off the left; that must be where Pope vanished to. I smile, slipping into the passage, my brain racing as the combat enhancer takes control. 

The world slips away from me, sliding into the background, the sound of my breath deafening in my ears. I smile, the cold, hard, dead weight of no responsibility settling comfortably on my shoulders. The first perp goes down in a spray of crimson, his life splattering across the wall in front of me. Pope is ahead, his breath deafening in my ears. I move into the next room. 

A round hits my shoulder, tearing through the flimsy flesh and slicing my insides to pieces as I press on. Pope is behind him, knife buried deep in his cortext before I can react. I smile grimy, shaking off the pain and moving forward. We’re coming, Ashley. Just hold on a moment longer. 

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