The smoke was already clearing. The explosion was only meant to knock
down the canopy, not provide a smoke screen. It was only because of
the cold that the smoke had lasted this long. Rest had taken this
chance to crouch beside the stage, using the elevated platform as well
as what was left of the smoke to hide
himself. The captain and the other militia man didn't plunge into the
smoke after him, and though Rest couldn't make out their forms through
the veil of smoke, he was sure at least one of them went to patrolling the perimeter of
the plaza. He wasn't even sure if the captain had called in
reinforcements. No, there was no doubt that the captain had called for
help. Maybe it was ten minutes before the place became swarming with
militiamen. The only thing Rest had to wonder was whether Gordon would escape first or not.
Rest traveled along the rim of the stage, his hands clenched tightly around the rifle. The sounds of muffled gunfire still rang loudly in his ears and Rest was sure at least half of
those shots were from his imagination. It took just about everything he
had to keep from panicking, half wishing that he had never volunteered
to join the mission and instead stayed indoors. He needed to flee the
plaza. He only hoped that the militia weren't waiting for him just
outside of the smoke.
The
gunshots were becoming louder now, virtually crystal clear as if being
shot outdoors, and there was another sound accompanying the shots now. A
metal grinding sound, groaning and popping. It was when Rest had moved
upwind where the smoke was the thinnest that he finally saw it.
The
building virtually straight across from him, where Grave and Elegy were
stationed, the fire escape stairs had detached completely from the
walls. Even worse, there were people on board. The only one he
recognized had just crashed into the adjacent building before plummeting
to the ground along with the shower of rusting metal debris from the staircase.
"Grave--!" Rest had to cut himself short. Of
course the two militiamen who had remained in the open plaza had also
heard the noise. They were much closer to the buildings than Rest was
and were already closing in on the settling dust cloud. All notions Rest
had to escape unseen had vanished at this point, and with his mind the
blank slate it was now, he did the one thing Rest had hoped he wouldn't
do. He panicked. And then began firing his rifle.
With his hands shaking, Rest's aim was all but perfect. But with the number of bullets he was unloading on the two, and the fact that they were standing plain in the open, a good number of them found their mark. One of them let out a sharp cry, the momentum of
the bullets throwing him to the floor. The other spun around only to
have a bullet bury itself into his face. He was hit three more times
before his body hit the floor.
Rest only stopped firing after his rifle had completely emptied of bullets, and pulled the trigger of
an empty clip several more times before his mind registered that he was
no longer in danger. No, his mind had registered that he had killed two
men, splattered one of their brains across the stone cobbled streets. And yet all Rest could think about now was the mountain of trash just beyond the spreading pool of blood.
He
threw the empty rifle to the side, making a mad dash towards the trash
heap. "Grave! Grave, answer me!" Rest began heaving bulging bags of garbage and planks of broken wood from the roof from the pile, tossing them out to the street. "Grave! Elegy, guys--"
A
loud screeching filled the plaza now, pulling Rest's gaze out towards
where the stage was. A car had pulled into the plaza, its tires
screeching to a halt as its metal frame fought to remain upright. It had
pulled to a stop directly between where Rest was and the stage,
effectively dispersing the cloud of smoke with a whiplash of wind. And there, emerging from the racing smoke, was two of the elite bodyguards and Gordon.