Writer: Timothy Dumont Jr.
Co-writer: Crystal Ferguson

Thursday, July 15, 2010

121: Define Wrong -Carl-

The people through out the plane had calmed down. They'd given in to their fate believing it to be a certainty. So many lives would be snuffed out if we failed. Then again, it's like that a lot lately.

Ever since I met Ben it's been one thing after another. Weird seemed to cling to him. I can't complain though. It's been crazy fun. Now that he'd taken to being leader, the group seemed to flow better. Several quick instructions and everything just fell in to place. Like how he wanted us to help these people.

Crystal and Nick took out the cameras quickly with a couple of Nick’s socks. They just covered them and then I waited. The terrorists would come soon, needing to know what had taken out the cameras.

The first one fell quick, one jab to the face. Then I grabbed his arm and used his weight to knock the one behind off balance. I felt that exhilarating rush as my fist made sure he wouldn't wake up for a few hours. The third guy was surprised enough; making any kind of movement to stop me. His weapon was in my hands and the butt of it in his face before he realized that the sad, pathetic people they'd destined to death weren't going down easy.

Fourth guy had experience, and swiftly brought his weapon up to block my fist. I swung my face forward taking him off guard with a head-butt. I felt his fist in my gut and his knee smash the bottom of my chin, telling me my head-butt had failed. I fell to the ground as his weapon came down, narrowly missing the back of my head. A quick scissor of my legs and down he fell. From there, it only took two swift elbows to the temple and he was down.

I pulled myself to my feet and wiped the blood from my mouth. The radio the man was wearing began to cackle.

"Davey? Hey! Davey? We're getting close to our destination, we can't have anything go wrong now."

I quickly scooped up the radio and laughed into it.

"Define . . . wrong."

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