Descending Road - A DISTANT GUN by Dana W. Paxson

A DISTANT GUN

2414 CE

“Holy sanctified chalice.” Miriam hissed the curse. The danger didn’t matter now; she had to go help this man. She eased through the door into a warm, sunny afternoon with a few cirrus clouds riding high in the west, then she bent low and scuttled over to him.

“Okay, it’s okay,” she crooned, hauling out a veinfinder. She dialed metorphin and blew it into his neck. He laid his head slowly on the sidewalk in his hot, browning soak of blood, and made no sound. His pulse fluttered, lurched, and began a rapid, spastic rhythm. Whatever was behind that face would not live long. She reached for her comm.

Her head snapped back, and a knife came against her throat. “Let him die, doc lady. I’ve got other plans for you.” The man’s voice grated deep and oily. She was dragged up by her hair to stand staring at the neighboring towers; a big hand groped her pockets and took the gun. “Just walk straight ahead.”

With a knife edge at her windpipe, she took three wobbling steps forward, her mind dull with panic. Why did her muscles go all weak like this, when she needed to fight or run? She tried to gather her wits, stumbling; her assailant cursed and jerked her upright by the neck of her thin medic’s jacket.

A loud crack came like stone shattering: something smashed into the back of her head, the knife fell away. She staggered, stood rigid with fear. The heavy hand in her hair loosened, flopped white onto her shoulder, and slipped away down her back.

She stood, uncertain, and then Allan‘s voice said, “Miriam, are you all right? Come on, here, follow me.” She turned around, her fingers plucking a piece of bloody, shattered bone from her hair. Her attacker lay on the sidewalk, dead, both sides of his head blown open.

She retrieved her gun. Allan scurried up to her with his rifle in hand, glancing around. “I got him! Come on!” She wanted to throw her arms around Allan, but her legs trembled, and she remembered why she’d come out.

“Jesus, you could have killed me! That other man, I’ve got to…" She ran to the faceless man she had tried to save, and bent close over him. No pulse, no pupil. She flipped him, straddled him, and then Allan‘s wiry hands gripped her arms from behind.

“Miriam, we can’t stay out here.” A loud buzz of carbon wire rounds from a nearby street emphasized his point.

She bent low over the monstrous smile, and found the man’s real mouth, shattered teeth seeded throughout the flesh, chunks of his tongue blocking almost everything. There was little airway – by the time she got him started, they’d both be ground meat. She let Allan help her to her feet; they ran.

Behind cover at the next building, she remembered the message. “Allan, did you get something from Hau Ren?”

He scanned the tower’s grounds, listening, eyeing the two bodies they had left behind. A distant gun popped. “That’s what I was coming to tell you,” he said. “I want to go.”

Story List	SURPRISE ME	Author Page
USER SURVEY	PUZZLE ME	MAKE ELM MARK

HOVER Lucida Bright BARE	HOVER Lucida Bright FULL	HOVER Palatino Linotype BARE
HOVER Palatino Linotype FULL	HOVER Times New Roman BARE	HOVER Times New Roman FULL
PAD Arial BARE	PAD Arial FULL	PAD Lucida Bright BARE
PAD Lucida Bright FULL	PAD Times New Roman BARE	PAD Times New Roman FULL


	A DISTANT GUN 2414 CE “Holy sanctified chalice.” Miriam hissed the curse. The danger didn’t matter now; she had to go help this man. She eased through the door into a warm, sunny afternoon with a few cirrus clouds riding high in the west, then she bent low and scuttled over to him. “Okay, it’s okay,” she crooned, hauling out a veinfinder. She dialed metorphin and blew it into his neck. He laid his head slowly on the sidewalk in his hot, browning soak of blood, and made no sound. His pulse fluttered, lurched, and began a rapid, spastic rhythm. Whatever was behind that face would not live long. She reached for her comm. Her head snapped back, and a knife came against her throat. “Let him die, doc lady. I’ve got other plans for you.” The man’s voice grated deep and oily. She was dragged up by her hair to stand staring at the neighboring towers; a big hand groped her pockets and took the gun. “Just walk straight ahead.” With a knife edge at her windpipe, she took three wobbling steps forward, her mind dull with panic. Why did her muscles go all weak like this, when she needed to fight or run? She tried to gather her wits, stumbling; her assailant cursed and jerked her upright by the neck of her thin medic’s jacket. A loud crack came like stone shattering: something smashed into the back of her head, the knife fell away. She staggered, stood rigid with fear. The heavy hand in her hair loosened, flopped white onto her shoulder, and slipped away down her back. She stood, uncertain, and then Allan‘s voice said, “Miriam, are you all right? Come on, here, follow me.” She turned around, her fingers plucking a piece of bloody, shattered bone from her hair. Her attacker lay on the sidewalk, dead, both sides of his head blown open. She retrieved her gun. Allan scurried up to her with his rifle in hand, glancing around. “I got him! Come on!” She wanted to throw her arms around Allan, but her legs trembled, and she remembered why she’d come out. “Jesus, you could have killed me! That other man, I’ve got to…" She ran to the faceless man she had tried to save, and bent close over him. No pulse, no pupil. She flipped him, straddled him, and then Allan‘s wiry hands gripped her arms from behind. “Miriam, we can’t stay out here.” A loud buzz of carbon wire rounds from a nearby street emphasized his point. She bent low over the monstrous smile, and found the man’s real mouth, shattered teeth seeded throughout the flesh, chunks of his tongue blocking almost everything. There was little airway – by the time she got him started, they’d both be ground meat. She let Allan help her to her feet; they ran. Behind cover at the next building, she remembered the message. “Allan, did you get something from Hau Ren?” He scanned the tower’s grounds, listening, eyeing the two bodies they had left behind. A distant gun popped. “That’s what I was coming to tell you,” he said. “I want to go.”