Man Hunting 30 - Amy's Close Call

Amy rode her motorcycle into a neighborhood full of old apartment buildings near one of the local colleges. She was quiet on her bike and parked it behind some dumpsters in an alley a few buildings away from where she intended to go. She walked to one of the buildings, a rundown apartment rented to college students. She rang the bell labelled Schwartz and then did it again in three quick successions, her signal to Rick to let her in. She got no reply and did it again, and then again.

“Mother fucker. I know you’re home.” She pulled out a thin card and worked it into the door latch until it opened for her.

She went up the dimly lit stairway and had to raise the visor on her motorcycle helmet to see anything. She got to the top floor and was glad she did not encounter anyone along the way. She went to a door and noticed it was slightly open. She pushed it open a little further and peeked inside.

“Fuck!” She hissed and pulled out her handgun.

She walked inside the room and in the middle of the sparse space was Rick, a huge bodybuilder, hanging naked from a noose. He was completely naked and it was clear he was only recently dead. She searched around the room warily and started to back out.

As she did so, she felt a hard hit on the back of her helmet which made her cry out in pain and fall forward. She caught Rick’s leg and used it to stop her from falling to the floor. A moment later came another hit, this one harder and cut slightly into the leather behind her neck. She turned around as she staggered back.

Behind her, a large man with a crowbar had snuck up. She fired one shot that hit the floor. He drew up to strike her again and she regained her bearings and shot him clean through the center of his chest and instantly killed him. He stumbled back for a brief second and fell to the floor dead.

Amy’s vision was blurred and she was feeling the effects of the second hit which impaired her normally sharp skills. She stepped into the hallway holding the back of her neck. As she entered the hallway she heard footsteps.

“Stop police! Drop the gun!” Amy heard.

“Fuck!” Amy turned and saw a very tall muscular police officer at the end of the hall point a gun at her.

Amy saw she was close to the stairs and attempted to dash for them. The police officer opened fire and bullets hit the wall near her. She took two steps before a bullet struck her in the left side. She cried out in pain and fired back at the officer. She struck him and he stumbled backward and stopped shooting. Amy heard him walking slowly as she staggered down the steps and out the door.

Outside, she looked back but did not see the police officer or any others. She tucked her pistol into her pocket and noticed her hand came out full of blood. She moved as quickly as she could to where she hid her motorcycle and picked up her phone. She was losing strength and got a quick message out.

Approximately fifteen minutes later she was sitting on the filthy ground behind the dumpsters. A full size conversion van pulled up and all of the doors opened. Three women emerged, all wearing street clothes and ski masks. One of the women held an assault rifle and looked around furtively while the other two helped Amy to her feet and dragged her inside the van.

One stayed behind and the van screeched away. The remaining woman did not even look around but mounted the motorcycle. In a deft maneuver she opened the throttle wide and rocketed out of the alley and down the street at reckless speed.