The sudden and unexpected fall to the ground, causing his head to slam against a metal grate, jolted Vin out of his momentary lapse of consciousness. His body still numbed by the previous surge of power that coursed through his veins, leaving him in an almost catatonic state, as his remaining senses tuned in and out at random intervals. Blurred colors and shapes passed by, some more abstract than others, but one in particular came into view as a silhouetted slim figure leaning over him. [i]The girl.[/i] The thought came and went, but he tried to focus on her, tried to filter through the chaos, and there it was. As if by some miracle, his mind began to slowly clear, and the pain that once dominated was replaced a soothing touch, a euphoric feeling he’d longed for. Within a few seconds, the muddled sounds and blurred images all flooded back into his senses at once, as he heard himself screaming for the first time since the attack.

“WHAT. THE. HELL!”

It was about all his brain could conjure up at that moment, but a good sign nevertheless, as he sat up and noticed he was behind a large garbage dumpster with the young and overly gung ho cop firing off rounds at the three other attackers. Laying next to him, however, was the girl, curled up in the fetal position with her hands over her face as her body suffered through short bouts of spasms. Vin slipped his hands under her arms and pulled her further behind the dumpster, which was apparently the only barrier between them and the jerks shooting at them. He had no idea what to do as he’d never been in a situation like this. CPR? Shit, he didn’t attend that class in school, trading an actual educational experience for a quick roll-around with whatsherface in the janitor’s closet. [i]Dumbass.[/i] 
Figuring it would be the most obvious start, Vin did a quick check for any bullet wounds on her, but considering her lack of attire, it wasn’t hard to surmise that she hadn’t been shot. Another bullet, however, ricocheted off the brick wall a few feet from his head, kick up pieces of red dust and fragments.

“Douchebags!”  He exclaimed, blinking the dust from his eyes as he quickly turned his head toward the kid with the gun who he automatically assumed was responsible for the shit pile he’d been roped into.

“Can you tell your buddies to stop fucking shooting at us?” He reached his hand up to rub his temple, as a stint of sharp pain surfaced before quickly subsiding. “Look...this-this girl needs help! Can’t you call for backup? The paramedics? An aerial strike?...”

He leaned his head back against the rusted metal dumpster, closing his eyes for a moment and wishing this was all a huge damn nightmare, or perhaps he was being [i]punk’d[/i] by one of his dickhead friends. In either case, this wasn’t Vin’s scene at all, and for once in a very long time, fear began to rear it’s ugly face and the thought of death seemed a lot more real.