Chapter 33 - The Shootout

Alanis tackled the two, forcing them behind the beds.

Bullets flew past, breaking the windows and forcing themselves into anything in its path. Thanks to the layout of the room, most of them flew past with no trouble, although a few of them managed to penetrate the beds - one of which landed square in Alanis's side. She put her hand over her mouth, trying to stay quiet.

After ten seconds of constant shooting, the gunfire stopped. The clink of casings hitting the floor echoed through the room. "What the hell was that?" An angry man's voice yelled.

"What do you mean?" Another man's voice. 

Maya looked at her Dragoon, which leaned on the wall next to the nightstand.

"We spent all that ammo, and we probably got nobody. Look! From this angle, we only get the tip of the beds!"

She grabbed her rifle.

"So what?"

She crawled under the bed next to her.

"So what? We just wasted a crap ton of money!"

She loaded a round.

"Who cares? Jaw gave us a lot of guns to do this job, we might as well put them to good use!"

She cocked her gun with her thumb.

"That doesn't mean we get to waste it all!"

She waited, angling herself so the barrel didn't poke out from the bottom.

"Look. If it'll make you feel better, I'll check the room right now! All of them got to be dead by now!"

He stepped inside, and as soon as she saw the man's boot, she fired.

The man screamed as his leg and his foot separated, falling down on the floor. She reloaded as the other man stepped inside; another shot incapacitated him too. As the two writhed on the floor, Claire confiscated their guns, making her way to Peter and Alanis. She cursed under her mouth as she saw Alanis's gunshot wound, immediately applying pressure. More men entered the room, but more men fell down, unable to catch Maya's position. Eventually, too many men blocked her vision, so she crawled out and used the mattress as a makeshift rest.

Peter sat against the wall, watching the desperation on Claire's face as she yelled words obscured by the sound of gunfire. He reached into his knapsack and fetched a bandana. Wrapping it around his mouth, he went to Alanis and placed his hand over her body. Claire, understanding his intentions, backed off.

"I can help you, but you need to promise that you won't freak out, okay?" Peter yelled.

Alanis nodded.

He closed his eyes, feeling the blood rush out of her wound. He pinched the sides of her wound shut and imagined the blood clotting up. Soon, her blood obeyed his instructions, and in thirty seconds or so, her wound sealed up, bleeding no more.

Alanis's eyes widened at the sight of his red eyes. "You're a blood mage?"

"Yes, but there's no time to explain right now. We need to get out of here, now!"

Reluctantly, she nodded and got up, the pain still present in her body. The room looked like a mess; ten men lay dead on the floor, and no other men tried to enter. The other hotel guests exited their rooms, screaming as they tried evacuating. Maya stood up, watching for more enemies.

And as she did, someone outside shot at her, the bullet whizzing past her head.

She ducked and made her way over to the window. She peeked out; men hid behind buildings, aiming their guns at the hotel. Another bullet fired, this time missing by a mile.

"How's it looking out there?" Peter asked.

"Not good. There's people armed with guns outside."

"Jesus, just who the hell are these guys?" He adjusted his bandana. "I'm going downstairs to split their attention. Will you be fine up here?"

"I will be. Be careful!"

"I will." He grabbed his revolver and crawled until he reached the doorway, where he stood and ran. Seems the guests already fled. Gunfire echoed from outside, the gunfight evidently not finished.

The first floor lobby was a mess. The side door was forced open, its doorknob on the ground. Several people lay dead on the floor, gunned down by accident. Bullet holes littered the walls, which were splattered in blood. Among the dead lay a man squirming; three bullets made their home in his body. Peter immediately dragged the man to safety and clotted his wounds shut; the man, despite his fear, kept his mouth shut. He set him against the wall and continued forward, taking cover against a sofa. He pulled out his gun and and peeked out of cover, firing his gun.

Unfortunately, no bullets came out.

He took cover again as the men fired at him. He looked at the revolver's cylinder. Empty. Damn it, why didn't he buy more bullets? He looked at the blood on the floor and grimaced. Everyone in the vicinity would recognize the magic, but he had to do something.

He pulled the blood from the floor, grouping it up in front of him. Making multiple of his trusty spikes, he peeked out of cover again, this time aiming his spikes at the gunners. The spikes flew in the air, managing to shoot through a couple of them before corrupting. As the men shifted their focus on him, Maya took advantage and fired, taking out one of them.

As Peter prepared to peek out again, a man ran through the side door and blasted him with a shotgun.

He fell to the ground. His hands seized up, his arms uncontrollable. He tried to sense his blood, but the pain overrode his concentration. His breathing became frantic and shallow. All he could do was try pushing himself away with his legs. But he couldn't do it. Not when every movement sent him into agony.

The man stood over him, aiming his gun at him. "That's the end of the line for you, mage." He said.

Realizing it was the end, he closed his eyes, waiting for the shot. A gunshot rang out, but he was still awake. He opened his eyes. The man collapsed onto the floor, a hole in his head. He looked out, towards the side door...

And saw Scala, her revolver in her hand.

She immediately ran to him, sliding behind the sofa. "Jesus, they really messed you up!" 

"Where'd you come from?" He asked, his words coming out in-between gasps.

"I was sleeping a little away from Morden when I heard the gunshots. I ran straight here after that. I might've been a little late, but don't you worry, I'm here now." She peeked at the men outside, then aimed at the wall. "Let's get this done quick."

She fanned the revolvers hammer, five shots coming out at rapid speed. The bullets ricocheted off the wall and off the ceiling, headed straight outside. All five hit their targets, and five men fell to the ground, leaving only a few standing.

"By the Gods, it's Scala!" One of the men yelled. "We have to get out, now!"

The remaining men agreed and sprinted away. Scala, recognizing their retreat, held her fire. Making sure nobody else stayed behind, she put her hands on his gunshot wounds, or at least as much of them as she could. It was no use though; the bleeding wouldn't stop, and soon his vision began fading.

The last thing he saw before he passed out were Maya's boots coming down the stairs.