Writing Prompt Wednesday is a concept kindly borrowed from Honestly Austen.
“Put the gun down.”
Sam stared at the other woman. “You first.”
“Not gonna happen.” The other was blonde, hair close-cropped. She was wearing blue fatigues–Alliance, then.
Nearby–too near–a pillar of stone exploded. Sam flinched but let the splinters strike her cheek, her arm. If she moved, she’d have to move the gun.
“Look,” Sam said. “It’s not safe–”
Another explosion, in the building right beside them. That was how they’d gotten here, swinging around opposite corners, seconds earlier. Now the corrugated metal wall buckled, and they both flinched. That was no Alliance strike–and it wasn’t her folks either.
So who the hell was bombing them?
“Point taken,” said the blonde. “Tell you what. We both drop on three, then run like hell, okay?”
“Ok,” said Sam. “Uh…which of us is counting?”
“Me,” the blonde snapped. “One…two…”
Another explosion threw Sam forward, right into the blonde. The gun went off but neither heard it, everything was too loud now. Ears ringing, Sam staggered to her feet.
Beneath her, the blonde tried to sit up and winced.
Sam felt something warm and sticky on her back–blood, probably; she hadn’t felt it right away, but some of those stone fragments had sunk between her shoulderblades and were starting to sting.
The blonde said something, grimaced. Sam still couldn’t hear, so she reached down, grabbed her by the wrist, and hauled her up.
They stumble-ran across the rubble, what was left of a supply depot. The ground hummed beneath their feet, then–as they got some distance from the scrum–went still.
Sam slapped the side of her head a few times and the ringing settled down.
“What’s your name?” she shouted.
The blonde shouted back. Sam was pretty sure she heard “Jo.”
“Okay, Jo,” she shouted. “Let’s see if we can find out where that’s coming from, okay?”
Jo frowned, shook her head. Sam sighed, and gestured back and forth between them.
“You–” she pointed “–and ME–” she jerked a thumb at her chest “–need to GO–” fingers mimed running “–and SHOOT that motherfucker dropping bombs on us.”
The last part involved some creative gestures, but Jo suddenly nodded and gave her a tight smile.
Together, the two women dropped low, and began to pick their way back through the rubble.