(Untitled)

[starsmedic]

Becky may not have been too successful in making friends while she was in school, but now that graduation has come and gone, it seems the relationships she'd never have expected to take root are beginning to.

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[all_scarry_eyed]

The voice comes from directly behind her when she's halfway down the stairs.

"Oh, look." A hand comes down by the side of her head, palm open, something bright and shining in its palm. "It's heads."

[starsmedic]

There's a natural start that happens when you're approached in a place where you thought you were perfectly alone; there's not much Becky can do to help that. There's a quick gasp that gets taken in mostly through her nose. She forces herself to leap off of the step she's currently on - for better footing and to just Get the Hell Away, considering the the threatening lilt she may or may not have detected in that voice. (There's also the thing RE: zombies you tend to have about getting snuck upon from behind. It's a thing.)

Once she touches down on the landing between flights, she spins and reaches for the grip of her pistol, hidden underneath her short jacket.

[all_scarry_eyed]

Krauser descends the stairs with her, pitching one shoulder comfortably against the rear wall as she spins.

"That'll pass for a seven," he says, "maybe an eight. I'm feeling generous. I mean, you've already got luck on your side. If it had been tails? You wouldn't have known I was here."

[starsmedic]

Becky does what she's been trained to do; she unholstered, takes the safety off of and aims her gun in one swift motion, and jukes a step back, away from him. She's trying to put some distance between them.

The initial shock is wearing off, but her breathing's a little hard. She still has that rookie-shake; she isn't used to shooting actual people yet.

"Sir," she says, and it rings in the corridor, "I'm going to have to ask you to step back."

Protocol. She's almost to the edge of the flight below them.

[starsmedic]

Becky is already in the swing of the combat; she's hit that plateau where your life doesn't seem to be in danger any more even though that is precisely what's driving you. Everything moves slower and colors are brighter. She looks vaguely angry, even though there's still quite a dose fear in the air.

She leaps to the side - there's no way she can cover that much distance running, she's too small - and catches the sharp curve in the banister where it leads down onto the next flight with her free hand, slamming her foot onto the metal lip that rises above the actual steps. It's not very slick, but it does what she intends it to; her momentum whips her around, back facing the stairs, and though the friction against hard rubber-plastic burns her hand on the way down, the slide - thanks in part to those goddamned slick-ass shoes - takes her far quicker than she could have leaped or jogged.

If he follows, she's going to try to shoot again (though it'll be at a -2).

[all_scarry_eyed]

He's about to follow, and rate accordingly, but there's the sound of a door opening two stories down. Krauser steps over the railing at the bend of the stairs, resting his heels on the edge, and then drops.

There's the beginning of a startled shout, and then a very, very nasty sound indeed.

Then silence.

[starsmedic]

It takes Becky until she reaches the end of the banister, hand burning and vaguely confused about this turn of events to realize that he's gone - he's running. Now that she has her gun back, he's taken to flight instead of fight, and she can't blame him, though it is noted she'll have to aim above the bulletproof vest next time.

She disentangles herself from the awkward position of bent knees and hanging just so above the steps that it prevents stepping down easily, and uses the lull to reload with shaking, burning fingers. It's an old habit - do it when you have the silence, or you might not get the chance when you really need that extra cap in the fresh magazine. She has two extra clips of ammunition stowed in her under-jacket holster; the half-spent cartridge of six is ejected, shoved into her jacket pocket, and a new one is locked into place. As soon as she racks the slide to put another bullet in the hole, there's a wet, gurgling, horrible sound interspersed with screams from the levels below

[all_scarry_eyed]

Krauser's explained to Becky, several times, that her life was at stake; and it never smelled like it sunk in until pretty recently. And not for all that long.

That's okay, though. He's a patient man; he loved teaching with his team, travelling, finding new and inventive ways to get his ideas across.

When she comes around the corner he'll be waiting at the bottom of the stairs, a lot bloodier than he was a few moments before; and with something shaggy and rather red in his hand. Trails of red are running down his forearm and dripping to the floor.

But he's not going to wait for her to figure it out before he throws the head at her.