Backup

The smell of gunpowder hung in the air as my ears rung from how close the sound was.

I felt chokes begin to well in my throat as hands, this time from above me, latched themselves onto my jacket. A sob left me when I saw the familiar green bandanna that Bryce wears.

Though I couldn't hear it, I could tell he was turning to yell at someone. Two bodies, one of Dylan and Richard, rushed past. Two guns with bayonets made of kitchen knives began to push down the hoard. Keep them at bay long enough for the rest to retreat.

Another pair of hands swatted at the tight grip Bryce held around my form. My eyes caught the slight wince and strain held in my dear friend's face when it turned quickly to shock as Vince distributed my weight between the two of them.

His face, much like everyone else's I would later find out, was not covered by his mask. Considering how he was barely in the baseline parts for his usual outfits, I'm guessing he ran as fast as he could down here.

I wanted to ask how'd they find me. Or how'd they figured out what was happening.

Yet the drone of sound as it slowly came back into existence prevented that. In little fragments the loud shots and disembodied voices caused the splinters in my head to grow in pain.

"-hit there's too many of them!" Bryce cried, taking the time to run backwards and take aim.

"We're gonna need to cut off the escalator as soon as we bypass it." Vince courtly spat back. His eyes hardened once more but for once not at me.

My head lulled until I was looking behind me. Watching Dylan and Richard, a few feet away, let out grunts as they kept jabbing at the mass of bodies. Disorientation began to consume me as gags threatened to leave my throat. My eyes shutting tight in hopes that it would stop the pursuing nausea.

More gunshots hung in the air as I felt them pull me upwards. Up the second set of escalators no doubt.

"Richard-"

"Got it. Dylan help me out!"

The sound of screeching furniture being dragged across the floor erupted from behind me. Growing fainter as the two men who were carrying me kept running. Only to stop abruptly which prompted me to peak an eye. Seeing the final barricade to the base, I understood what the hold up was about.

With a grunt, Vince handed me off to Bryce and begun to climb up. The two of them wordlessly agreeing on some sort of plan.

Just a his form disappear from view, I was suddenly being thrust upwards. Bryce maneuvering my body so he can hold me up. A panicked whimper left my lips as he did but he flashed me a reassuring smile. Though pained and exhausted, he still managed to get that loopsided grin.

"It'll be okay. I've got you," He said as he pushed me up higher, "You'll be okay friend, just a bit further."

Soon rugged hands gripped the scruff of my jacket, pulling me out of his reach and soon cradling me as the person began to climb down. Turning my head up to Vince, I saw the way he clenched his teeth. Too focus on trying to balance than to realize I was staring at him.

As he begun to climb up the escalator, both Ace and Elenor started to make their way down.

Elenor had fresh bandages wrapped around her head and her jacket was long since discarded allowing full view of her battered body. Ace held her little purse and, upon viewing me, pursed her cracked lips into a fine straight line.

The two ushered Vince onwards only to stop him just as we got to the landing. Opting to operate on me now rather than wait until the main room. Ace promptly opening her bag and dragging several medical items out.

"Remove her jacket, helmet, just everything. I need to see every part."

The two others didn't need to be asked twice, hastily turning me about to remove what they can. Each article of clothing allowed more wounds to appear. Even from behind my the tinted glass of my helmet I could see just how much red covered my body. Whatever patch of skin that wasn't red was beginning to turn a sickly purple and blue.

Hisses erupted from Elenor as she turned away from the patch of skin the peeled off when she removed my shirt. Vince didn't seem to be doing any better. His face was unreadable as I watch him scan my body. Scan the both the new gashes and the feint lines of old scars.

"Shit!" Bryce's gruff voice caused me to look up at him. A pained expression stretching across his face as he shot a glare at Ace.

"You can fix it right?"

"If you don't interrupt me then maybe."

Soon she reached over, pulling my helmet up over my head. I felt a stickiness from it as she did leading me to believe in the matted hair now covered in blood. I saw the large, mirror like fractures that covered my helmet. Part of me amazed with how much it suffered but thankful that it protected me.

The face that I once painted now was fragmented around the right side. The red eyes there barely even attached and the foam interior just peaking through. I felt my body being pushed and pulled every so often. Most probably Ace trying to get the best angles to tend to this battered form of mine.

Words hung about from everyone else but my lack of focus caused their sounds to appear like static instead. The only clear noise was my shallow panting and the dull thumping of a headache. The jarring change of the fast-paced reality I had just moments ago now melted to a sense of surrealism. The way each member talked or stared or moved seemed as though I was staring behind a screen. Which was odd seeing how my helmet was sitting on my lap.

Exhaustion finally caught up to me and, as I shut my eyes to rest, the pulls of sleep dragged me out of reality.