I heard footsteps… mingled with the steady drip from the broken ceilings. In silence I strain to hear more but they hide like midday shadows in the trees. Back against cold concrete, I peer towards a doorless opening, looking for the steam of your breath. Dripdripdrip, drip, drip, it continues, in jazz rhythms.
Time slows and I sense an object…. then a puff of dust close to my eye and a metallic ringing in my ears. I curl back around the wall, laughing. You fucker! You nearly blinded me!
Shrinking to the floor, I get on my hands and knees, crawling away. I round another low wall, thinking that I am flanking you, and as I look up you’re crouched on your haunches, pressing the pistol barrel into my forehead.
And then we’re running. Tearing through the old factory, leaping the remains of workshops; just the noise of footsteps, whooping, laughing, the pop-pop-pop of BB guns, deaf to everything but the moment. Shots burn into my thigh, my shoulder and then two hit my face – grazing my chin and flicking my cheekbone. Instinctively, one eye closes.
We crash into the main hall, the rusted yellow remains of a conveyor between us. I’m half blind, but I can see your mane of brown hair shaken loose from its ties. Jumping onto the belt, I hit the switch – just like in the movies! But there’s no power, and you laugh as you plug me full of little holes.