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PapaOso[i][b]"Oi! Don't move! Put your weapons and your bag on the ground, or I'll blow your brains against the road."[/i][/b]
I was startled as the man--no, wait...the kid--stepped from behind a tree. And startling me isn't exactly easy. I hadn't heard, nor seen any sign of anyone in the area. I briefly considered going for my rifle, but that would be stupid. Besides, I still have my knife sheathed in my boot--out of sigh out of mind, as they say. I look the kid over, his dark brown hair and piercing eyes. Well. I ain't about to be robbed and left to die out here with no food and no supplies.
Well, shit, I think to myself as I slide the rifle from my shoulder very slowly. "Alright kid, don't shoot, you hear? I'm just gonna drop this rifle at my feet, nice and gentle like." As I speak, I lower the weapon onto the asphalt. I don't break eye contact with this stranger, sizing him up. Will he shoot if I just charge him? Probably. He's just a kid and I don't want to hurt him, but it's seeming like I'm going to have to kill him. Or die trying.
Next, I lower my backpack to the ground, then slowly with one hand over my head, he other on the pistol, draw it out so he can see I'm not attempting to use it. "Easy now, kid," I say as I dangle the handgun in front of me. "Not trying to draw down on you, I promise." I bend down, delicately holding the pistol. Then, without warning, I throw the weapon at his face, leap to the right, and charge forward. I have to get on the inside.
My movement is fast, unpredictable. I leap right, charge forward, sidestep left, duck low as I rush once more. As I'm low, I clasp my knife--made more for killing than anything else--and sidestep again before lunging forward, reaching for the barrel of his M-4 with my left hand. I'm not trying to yank the gun away, rather I'm attempting to knock it to my left, then get close enough to stab him in the throat. Hoping this isn't my last day in this fucked up world, I prepare to defend myself as best I can should I fail to take him out here and now.
I was startled as the man--no, wait...the kid--stepped from behind a tree. And startling me isn't exactly easy. I hadn't heard, nor seen any sign of anyone in the area. I briefly considered going for my rifle, but that would be stupid. Besides, I still have my knife sheathed in my boot--out of sigh out of mind, as they say. I look the kid over, his dark brown hair and piercing eyes. Well. I ain't about to be robbed and left to die out here with no food and no supplies.
Well, shit, I think to myself as I slide the rifle from my shoulder very slowly. "Alright kid, don't shoot, you hear? I'm just gonna drop this rifle at my feet, nice and gentle like." As I speak, I lower the weapon onto the asphalt. I don't break eye contact with this stranger, sizing him up. Will he shoot if I just charge him? Probably. He's just a kid and I don't want to hurt him, but it's seeming like I'm going to have to kill him. Or die trying.
Next, I lower my backpack to the ground, then slowly with one hand over my head, he other on the pistol, draw it out so he can see I'm not attempting to use it. "Easy now, kid," I say as I dangle the handgun in front of me. "Not trying to draw down on you, I promise." I bend down, delicately holding the pistol. Then, without warning, I throw the weapon at his face, leap to the right, and charge forward. I have to get on the inside.
My movement is fast, unpredictable. I leap right, charge forward, sidestep left, duck low as I rush once more. As I'm low, I clasp my knife--made more for killing than anything else--and sidestep again before lunging forward, reaching for the barrel of his M-4 with my left hand. I'm not trying to yank the gun away, rather I'm attempting to knock it to my left, then get close enough to stab him in the throat. Hoping this isn't my last day in this fucked up world, I prepare to defend myself as best I can should I fail to take him out here and now.