24 Minutes

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 24, 2017

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Submitted: May 24, 2017

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Her heart pounded like a thousand drums, adrenaline pulsated through the air as the writhing mass of anonymous figures crowded eagerly around the stage. A sinister hulk of a man lurched with his mountainous shoulders leaning from side to side onto stage, his muscles rippled under his black tuxedo. Raising his hand to his ear, he gestured to the side of the stage. The crowd cheered even louder, hoisting banners into the air. The red-haired woman squeezed her way through the crowd as the lights dimmed. Instinct made her reach for her holster. Her hand lingered over her hip as the hoard of followers roared wildly with enthusiasm as the President strode onto stage, flanked by bodyguards. Holding up his mechanical arms, the President silenced the roar of the crowd.

 

“I, Zenyatta, will unite humans and droids, as we are all one within the iris,” she proclaimed as the crowd grew quieter. “Before me I see the future. Before me I see humans and droids standing together.”
As Zenyatta continued, the woman slyly scanned the bodyguard beside the President. He was frantically looking around, whispering into his earpiece. Tension broke out, and the woman slunk away.

 

Sneering maliciously, I fired my grappling hook launching it head-on into a brick wall. Securing the hook onto the brick, I hurtled through the air, the weight of my weaponry dangling, but I’ve grown used to the burden. I kicked a guard to the face as I landed on the roof. I swung myself around him and twisted my legs around his neck. His knees buckled from the force of the blow and he crumbled to the ground. Wrapping rope around my ankle, I opened my arms like a bird and let myself fall off the roof. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I twisted my body around and the rope twirled around my ankle. Stopping, I swung my machine gun around and positioned it onto my shoulder. Focusing, my infra-sight adjusted to the gloom, red heat signatures of everyone in the Presidential campaign sprawled in my vision. But I was only searching for one. His lit up a brilliant gold. I had found the target. The President. 

 

Suddenly, a figure of black and red alerted my senses. Opening my infra-sight, the red-haired woman came hurtling towards me.
“Find another party to crash, love!” her heavy English accent whipped through the air.
Snarling, I leapt from my post, flung myself into a window, smashing it inwards and landed on the railing, perching like a cat. The woman followed. An all-out war began. The red-head drew two pulse pistols continuously firing at me. I dodged them as if they were nothing, which only infuriated her more. With my grappling hook, I shot the hook into the ceiling and reeled myself upwards, endlessly shooting bullets at the woman as I flew to the ceiling. Her body swerved in slow motion as the bullets sprayed from my gun. I let go of the line and stealthily planted a small pod behind a passing door. Plan B for bomb. The red-head flipped herself up and over the railing, landing with slight unease. I spun around, facing her and grabbed the two hand guns from the holsters at my hips.


“You need to get the President out,” the red head hissed into her earpiece, clearly talking to the President’s bodyguards.

“How could you hack into this line?! It’s secured!” a bodyguard shot back.

“You need to listen, the President is in danger!!” the woman grew more and more agitated.

As she was now distracted, the bullets left the barrels of my guns, curved towards her, seamlessly leaving streaks in the air. How she avoided being hit, I have no clue, but every one of my bullets missed her by an inch. A single strand of her iridescent red hair floated to the ground. Her eyes held more fury than Hitler’s had when I killed him. Knowing that I had little bullets left, I leapt off the balcony of the second floor, landing on the roof of the next building. I could feel the vibration of the bomb slowly ticking away in my mind; tick, tick, tick, the countdown of the bomb waited for no man, painstakingly ticking its way to doom. The red-haired woman launched herself after me, her eyes burning with fury. With a bang and a doorknob trying to turn behind me, I twisted around, shooting at the heat signature of the guard behind the door. His heat slowly left his body, turning blue through my infra-sight. I saw the President being hastily escorted into a nearby van, surrounded by his guards and the masses of people. A small girl, in the swarming mass of people, looked up at the building as though she knew what was coming.

 

3…2…1…With a deafening boom, the bomb ruptured, sending pieces of debris into the sky. Echoing in my ears, the explosion bounced around in my skull, throwing the red head full force off the roof. My flesh sizzled underneath my shirt as I hoisted my gun into position. As agile as a cat, I flung myself at the red-head, readying the machine gun. Steadily, I aimed directly at her heart, also aligning the President in my sights. Without hesitation, I squeezed the trigger. The bullet appeared to strike through the air in slow-motion as it hurtled towards my prey. With realization, the young woman slammed her hand onto the contraption attached to her chest, a glow throbbed and pulsed inside of her, and the next minute she was gone. When the ringing faded from my skull, screams began echoing around me. The bullet kissed the President’s forehead like a lover saying goodbye. 


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