[Kuzco]: 212.Run for your Life

RUN FOR YOU LIFE!

My name is Jason, and that guy there who’s pointing a gun at me is my best friend, Marco. Some seconds ago, we were equal partners at the leadership of a gangue I had the idea and muscle to form. But he’s always been the brains so he easily played me and now here I am, surrounded by a dozen of friends who eagerly wait for Mark, that’s Marco, to push the trigger. He’s saying something, some kind of speech but I’m too busy trying to think of a way out. I’m desperate because he’s a great marksman and he’ll kill me at the slightest move.
- Are you listening to me? – Marco asks. I defiantly tell him:
- No, why? You’re saying something important?
He laughs, he laughs at me and the situation. He knows I’m terrified, I’m trying to hold on the sweat but I think its showing.
- I guess not, you want a blindfold? 
- Don’t even think about it. – I tell him harshly as I have an idea. That doesn’t happen often so it was obviously a bad one. I make a sudden move… I lean forward then immediately bend left, getting hit in the right shoulder which throws me down. I react and fall down on the ground in a way he wouldn’t see the wound, wishing as much as I could for him to put the gun back in the holster.
- Told ya not to move. Now you’ve got yourself hit in the chest!
- Good, he thinks he hit the chest, just gotta wait…c’mon you fagot, put the gun down… - I hear the soft but metallic noise of a gun being accommodated into a holster.
- Grab him and finish him off. – Marco says sitting down.
- NOW, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! – I shout to my self while I use every strength I can muster to lift me up as fast as I can with my left hand. There were three friends of mine protecting the door but they should know better than to try and stop my dash; I ignore them and just thrust through them pushing the door open with my arm and going through it with some bullets shaving my hair and the wall.
I got a chance! I grab my right shoulder with the left hand hoping I can make a turn before they pop me, and deciding between rooftops or ground floor. I quickly glare at the elevator to see one which floor it’s on and turn right as my back is scarred by a bullet. Now I’m bleeding from two places, but the back is just a superficial wound, I can still live! I can still live! I let go of my shoulder and use my hand to push me off walls and help me up the stairs.
I don’t even feel my shoulder hurting anymore as adrenaline pumps, the heart speeds up, the lungs go overdrive well trained to keep up with the stress, and other hormones take action as the whole god damn nervous system goes on red alert re-routing the metabolism to my muscles and temporary vital organs…vital for the task at hand of course.
I can hear them chasing me, some shots are fired but no where close to hit me. It’s time! I quickly turn right at the hall exiting the stairs, three floors before the rooftop and head for the elevator. I get in and close the doors, shots are fired but they couldn’t get an angle from a half closed door. I send the elevator to the ground and then punch the upper escape shaft going topside. You see, they would corner me in the elevator, so I decided to use the emergency ladder and go to the roof while they wait for the elevator to show up empty. It worked perfectly, forcing and pushing my damaged arm to its limit, pull after pull after pull I manage to climb the ladder safely and get to the last floor and from there, to the roof.
- Bought me some minutes, I hope. – I wasn’t counting on it…my best friend knew me well.
When I get to the door leading straight to the rooftop, I cling to my bleeding shoulder again and kick the door open circling the little exit and heading to the edge. I’ve never done this jump, but you’d be surprised what you’re willing to try when your life is on the line. The other roof was almost 2 meters in front and 3 below; the problem wasn’t the jump, it was the fall; I jump as high as I can letting go of my hurting shoulder and getting ready to land on my good one…my heart literally stops during the jump as I hold my breath and all my senses go numb. I land on both my feet, immediately rolling on my shoulder and back trying to get steady which I can’t; clumsily, I accidentally use my right hand to stop the roll and get up, like I learned in Judo, but my shoulder complains and I falter when I have to get up. My body rolls backwards so I go along with it and roll on my left shoulder, getting up on my feet and speeding towards the door. BAM! They’re shooting at me. BAM BAM BAM; the bullets hit next to my feet, flying by my arms and legs but luckily missing me.
I only gave them about 8 seconds target practicing before reaching the door of that building’s rooftop’s entrance with a dive, bringing the thing to the ground…it was already crumbling.
- Don’t stop, don’t stop… - I tell my self, forcing me to get up; my back then stings me like a snake, making me realize that it’s cut was more serious than I realized; I feel momentarily lost and dizzy so I try to grab something for balance.
- ARGH! – Right arm again, and to make matters worse, my left foot decides to run from me, taking my body on a roll down the stairs. I fall off the 12 stairs’ steps, roll on the floor and hit the wall without strength nor will enough to scream. I moan tired and desperate, trying to think the seconds I had before they caught me. I was a goner…I had rolled on my back cut three times and these hits just now couldn’t have made it better.
But NO! I’m a survivor…I, I, I will run and I will live! But how…?
- The police… - I remember we set up our headquarters next to the police precinct out of spite and arrogance…It was next door. I look to my left, my senses come back to me full mode while my back pain weakens. I take it as a sign, a warning from my dying body telling me to go for it; a guy shows up from the door I came in through and points a gun at me, I roll to the left with the bullets almost making me deaf and immediately get up. From the other stairs, coming from below, another two come shooting at me as I run past their sights and bring the door down with my left shoulder, which bones already crack and snap, annoyed at the lack of care I’m showing them. The hope, the hope alone moves me. The hope and determination to LIVE; I run through the hall of doors, opening all the doors at my left as quickly as I can to have some cover in my final biblical like run. I change my mind after the fourth door though, deciding not to bother with the last two. I see the balcony and the window I’m busting in through.
Longer jump, higher jump; heh, before I had sensed death coming for me, I’d say this to be impossible…and I’d say that in a fit and healthy condition. I approach the balcony with a courage that erupted from the most basic, most primal instinct in any animal’s life…survival.
The doors don’t cover me anymore, two bullets blaze at my side as I hop my right foot into the balcony lifting myself into the craziest jump I’ve ever done. I don’t ask god for anything because I know I don’t disserve it, I just…I just swallow it and hope he leaves me alone.
Life slows down as I fly through the air untouched by the bullets that hit the wall around my target. I know I won’t be able to go through it crouched so I cross my arms in front of my face and lie down hitting the window with my forearms and elbows, that get mangled again when I land violently on the floor; my kneecaps hit the window sill shaving off a lot of skin.
My body aches all around, my legs burn, my back screams of agony and my shoulder feels like trying to tear it self apart from the madness I’m putting my body through. But still, I look at the three armed cops ignoring their accusing look, and shout… shout as hard as my mouth lets me, with my last breath of conscience I shout:
- I’LL TESTIFY!!! I’LL BRING THEM ALL DOWN!!! – The last thing I hear is the cop looking through the window and saying to his comrades:
- Holy hell! He needs to get to a hospital!! Call for backup, the whole SWAT for that matter, this kid needs to live!
“I agree…” I think, closing my eyes, embracing the cop’s hold on my decaying body, trying to stop the immediate bleeding. Although I don’t have the strength too, inside I smile, I smile victorious thinking to myself:
“Check mate brainyack…I live.”