Page 1 of Misted

Hawk

You set my heart on fire and watched while it turned to ashes.

I need to find her.

Pain slashes through my shoulders and my tendons ripple with every breath I take.

The leather restraints dig into my arm and slash into my skin. A sticky hot liquid coats it, forming rivulets down my arms and drips to pool on the white tiles.

The fresh bullet wound in my back pulses and throbs like a breathing fucking animal. Whatever bandage they fixed me with has ripped due to all my struggles.

Fuck the wound.

Fuck the pain.

Fuck these restraints.

I need to find her.

The humidity in the stark white room coats my skin and melts with my bloody bones. If I don’t die due to the cowardly shot in the back, I’ll surely perish thanks to infection.

I grit my teeth and push forward against the restraints with all my might. The straps slash further into my already broken skin. The metal chair scrapes against the tile flooring with a loud squeak as blood continues dripping.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

I need to find her.

Still sitting on the chair, I swing myself back and slam my shoulder against the wall. The pop of dislocation fills the silence. My sniper shoulder. My reason for survival all these years.

I grind my jaw as the searing pain hits straight to my bones. I don’t waste time on pain. Pain is a phase. Pain is disposable. She isn’t.

Due to my limp arm, I manage to rip the restraints and stagger to my feet.

A wave of dizziness causes me to sway as blood sticks my T-shirt to my back and trickles down my arms. I shake my head and blink away the haziness. She won’t be safe if I pass out.

The reminder of my promise to her and her promise to me is like a shot of adrenaline.

A hazy wave clouds my head like a drug hit, shooting through my veins and pumping in my bloodstream.

I tear through the daze, the pain, and the blurriness in my vision.

Biting my lower lip, I grab the wrist of my injured arm and pull straight and forward with one snap.

A pop sounds indicating that the arm bone is back to the shoulder’s socket. The tingling and throbbing lull back to a dull ache, but it’s nothing compared to the urge burning inside me.

I need to find her.

Knowing that there’s a guard right outside the door, I lift the chair with my good arm, knock it on the wall until it makes a bang, then I hide behind the door. Once it clicks open, a guard steps inside with his M16 dangling off his shoulder.

His bald head barely makes an appearance. He stops when noticing I’m not in the pool of blood I left behind. He takes another step forward and I slam the metal against his head.

He falls to the floor with a thump, the back of his bald head smashed.

I grunt as I crouch and untangle his M16.

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