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Registered User Currently Offline
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Posts: 376
Join Date: Oct 2008
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BIG BLUE in ‘The Patient Man’ Epilogue.
Character Created by Neo Gonzales Story by Wayne Clayton
Pain was the only thought running through his head, or it would have been if he hadn’t blacked out for the third time because of that self same pain. In the moments of lucidity all he saw was the sky and earth spiralling around him, the forces of gravity wrenching his body one way then the other. His vision greying out as the blood left his head, fleeing the white noise which engulfed all his senses.
The engines of his jetpack began to splutter and cough as the fuel began to run dry. The shockwave of the blast has hurled him like a feather in a hurricane, miles off course from its pre-programmed flight plan. Thanks to the Firefox systems Viper had been able to active the autopilot command in those vital last seconds, and now as he hung unconscious within its harness it carried him towards his safe house.
Suddenly he was awakened once more as the struggling pack cut out and began to plunge towards the ground. Within seconds its engines had reignited but now they were locked in a cycle of failure and recovery, each time gravity dragged him closer and closer to the earth below. Until finally barely 12ft above the hot scrubland it gave up the ghost and he was brought crashing down to earth.
He had no idea how long he had lain there under the baking sun before he came round. He looked up squinting to see that fate and the jetpack had brought him within sight of the run down shack which he had made his safe house. But he found that he was unable to stand. Instead he fought all the pain and began the slow agony of crawling across the course ground, his trusted weapon still firmly in his grip dragging behind him.
As he crawled his broken body rebelled at every movement. He was dimly aware of the constant throbbing of his skull ringing through his mind like a hammer striking an anvil inside a church bell. But still he hauled himself closer to safety, until at last he reached the rotten timber which formed its door, pushing it open with his shattered shoulder before collapsing onto the dusty floor.
He dragged himself up to the table and chair which stood in the centre of the room and then hauled him self into its seat. Next he grabbed his gun and began to clean it down. Years of training had imprinted the routine onto his brain until now it had become an automatic reflex at the end of every mission. His whole world depended on his weapon been always ready for action. The gun was his faithful friend his loyal companion.
Within minutes his task was complete. He laid the gun on the table and for one long moment he stared it.
As the roar of his pain subsided in his brain he had only two thoughts on his mind.
‘Is this my gun?’ and ‘why am I covered in blood?’
Coming soon Big Blue in ‘The Hunt’
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