| Subject: Sucking Chest wounds are just god's way of saying slow down |
Author:
Andrew West
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Date Posted: 20:27:23 06/19/02 Wed
In reply to:
Trish Mindalin
's message, "Substance abuse" on 14:08:50 05/26/02 Sun
The bullet wound burned like fire, something hot and sticky covered his hand, the man staggered. At least he still had the case, his only clue, his fortune if he could hold on to it. Dressed in a Leather Pilot’s jacket and jeans Andrew West stumbled from door to door, his voice was hoarse from the effort of his pleas and blood had left a film on his lips. He checked his Colt auto, empty, no grenades left either, his car was wrecked and his gut torn. This was a bad day.
His vision began to swim again, maybe the Red Eye was wearing off? Andrew West was no ordinary 17 year old kid, in his case was a very potent combat drug, Lunar Red Eye. Somehow his father had stolen the shipment from a Syndicate and put it in storage. Andrew’s father had been killed for the case, but they hadn’t found out where he hid it. Then just one short week ago Andrew had found the stuff.
His sight was beginning to fail, the world was spinning, a blur. With a desperate effort he slammed his great body into the closest door and fell unconscious. The dead bolt snapped under Andrew’s great weight, but the chain on the door held, the only thing visible to the inside, a bloody hand and a young tired countenance.
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