Pre views of chapter two
The grenade came rolling up, bouncing slightly off the floor, passed the window where were standing. I froze, all of my body felt as if it went limp almost like I accepted this as my gruesome fate. Standing in place with a blank stare on my face, as my friend whirled around on his feet pulling me through the first apartment room and into someone’s room and onto the ground. Hitting the soft carpet that had once been applied into this room and soon filled with dust and made the air hard to breathe, laying on the floor of the apartment there I was with the same blank expression. My friend and pushed me to the ground and dove deeper into the room. As he hit the floor with a loud thump, there was a moment of silence before a small piece of hell was released by the grenade. Spraying sharp metal fragments into the wood and ceiling, laying a thick mess of debris and paneling foam in the air. As the smog started to settle at shoulder height as three figures dressed in black clothes and armor came in a low crouch up the stairway.
Weapons in hand they came running up, there boots making soft little noise as the touched the ground. Pushing my self up with my arms, as my friend had already gotten to his feet and was crouched against the wall near the open door when he told me in a silent calm, “ Go out the fire exit and go down a floor I’ll meet you there.” I followed his order without response and walked into the kitchen, and tried to push open the fire escape window. Feeling almost as if I had no power, I looked at my arm. It had a long lash across it, from elbow to shoulder. The wound was dry cauterized by the hot shrapnel that was cutting through the air not thirty seconds ago. I leaned my entire body into the sliding window and it gave. I took a final look back into the room to see my friend with his Para-Ordinance pistol in hand and he was leaning slightly into the dark dust filled hallway. I turned, not paying attention to what he was doing and headed down the flight of stairs to the third dangerous floor. At the bottom now, looking into the void kitchen, I see the blood smeared hand print on the wall, illuminated by the emergency lights. I finally remembered what was going on, and felt the heavy weight of the shotgun in my hands. I had almost forgotten about it, racking a new round into the chamber and looked into the apartment window. The desolate room looked as if it had not been lived in, like the owners had just moved their furnishings in and left. I peeled the window open and took my first step into “Rm. 321”. To my left there was a kitchen that looked as if it had never been used, and straight ahead was leather couch that appeared to be well used. I continued to walk in, stepping quietly in. I stop for moment as I hear gun fire erupt from upstairs, I continued slower and more careful, taking notice for any noise. I took one more step into this dark room and felt the air start to feel more humid and reek of dried blood.