An Alliance Forged in Blood

[Strazio Rockwell]

The scene of carnage was a brutal one. The bar was reduced to splinters,blood, and bodies. Gang members and thugs were strewn about the place, some were injured others were less fortunate. Isaac’s head spun at the thought of such destruction, Christa seemed un-phased. Between the two of them they had seen more combat than an entire platoon, they coped in their own ways but the sight of death never got any easier. Isaac comforted the would-be hostage and helped her over to the bartender who offered her a shot of liquor which she eagerly gulped down.

Isaac stepped over a body and looked outside the saloon, their little display had drawn the attention of the town and more thugs would be there shortly. He looked over at Christa who was stalking around the bar, daring any of her downed foes to try and stand back up. The Bloodlance sighed, he had been quick enough to stop Christa from slaying the entire lot, but she still had managed to kill her fair share of grunts. He turned to face her new ally and spoke matter-of-factly.

“We should leave befo-”

*Bang*

The thunderclap of a gun hung in the air.

A flash of red and a yelp of pain.

One of the surviving gangsters had fired at the poor Bloodlance, piercing his left shoulder and sending him to the ground. Christa spat a string of profanities and fired several shots into the chest of Isaac’s assailant. She ran over to her fallen comrade and helped him to his feet. Thanks to Isaac’s unique powers he was able to staunch the bleeding, but the pain was still immense. He grit his teeth and leaned against his friend, he had gotten sloppy and paid the price.

“You dumb bastard, you just had to let them live didn’t ya?” she berated him.

Isaac ignored her taunting and pushed away from her. He could stand despite the searing pain. The bullet had gone clean through, leaving a dime sized hole through Isaac’s shoulder. He had been shot before, but the pain was never easy to endure.

“We... We should leave” the Bloodlance spoke through gritted teeth.

Chista nodded in agreement “I’ve got a hideout not far from here, we’ll have to take the back alleys. You gonna be able to keep up old man?”

Normally Isaac would welcome the friendly competition, but the hole in his shoulder put a damper on Christa’s ribbing. He threw away the pistol that Christa had handed him, he did not care for such a lethal weapon. Without a word the two left through the saloon’s backdoor and into the sun’s heat. He followed the soldier through the twisting back alleys and hidden routs of the town. The heat from the sun mixed with the pain from his wound and formed a brutal cocktail. His vision blurred slightly and he fought against the pulsing pain, refusing to let the wound get the better of him. Christa’s demeanor had shifted, she moved with purpose keeping one eye on Isaac and one on the trail ahead. Her instincts had kicked in, Isaac was an injured comrade and it was her duty to keep him safe.

They moved quickly, despite his injury and before long Christa led him to a shabby-looking apartment complex. She led her injured friend up several flights of stairs and finally to room 348, her apartment. The apartment was kept clean and except for a few empty cans of beer it was damn near spotless.

“Take a seat, I think I’ve got a medkit in the bathroom”

Christa scurried off to find her medical provisions and Isaac found a seat on the only couch in the entire apartment. Dark-green and ancient the couch creaked under Isaac’s weight. Absentmindedly he rubbed his wound, making sure that he kept his blood inside his body. It was fortunate in a way that he had such a macabre ability, if he was a normal human he most certainly would’ve bled out by now. It was ironic he thought, that an ability created through the sacrifice of others kept him alive for so long.