Chapitre 200: Chapter 200: My Brother
Chaos reigned within the basketball Arena as panic engulfed the crowd. The cheerleaders, in particular, screamed and scattered like frightened bees, some seeking refuge in the auditorium, while others made a frantic dash towards the exits. A few sought cover behind seats, all united in prayer for safety.
Andre's accuracy was less than stellar, and the initial targets of his hail of bullets were the basketball players. With the exception of a few unfortunate cheerleaders, most managed to escape unscathed.
The basketball players from Burbank Middle School, who had repeatedly clashed with Andre and his companions earlier, found themselves in an unfortunate predicament. Grouped together and inherently taller and stronger, their chances of being hit by bullets were 34% higher than those of ordinary individuals. Yet, as Andre emptied his magazine, only two or three of the dozen remained standing.
Andre proceeded cautiously, swapping out his magazine. The adrenaline coursing through his veins caused his hands to tremble slightly, impeding the speed of the reload.
Surveying the bloodstained floor, Andre noted that all those who had previously challenged him, including Jackson, lay lifeless. However, he couldn't spot Miller, the leader, among the casualties.
With a quick glance, Andre spotted Miller, still wearing his team uniform, racing for an exit, closely followed by Judith.
Unhurried and confident in their impending capture, Andre did not rush. All the other doors leading outside were locked from the exterior, and Victor guarded the sole entrance and exit, ensuring their escape route was effectively sealed.
Turning his firearm, Andre methodically fired at each basketball player, their howls silenced as terror took over.
Andre's inner beast was set free, a malevolent joy consuming him. With brisk, purposeful strides, he pursued Miller, the primary target.
...
Entering an inner passageway, they encountered a security door, frustratingly locked shut. Originally, someone was tasked with overseeing these secure passages and facilitating prompt opening in case of emergencies. However, as soon as the gunfire erupted, the responsible individual fled to ensure his own safety, prioritizing survival over responsibilities.
Several girls screamed in fear, prompting Martin to urgently instruct them to be silent. Blake, although terrified, regained some composure witnessing Martin's calmness and even joined in, forcefully silencing two of the girls with a slap, urging them to cease their cries.
Bruce analyzed the situation, informing Martin, "The door's locked from the outside." Despite the tension, Martin managed to maintain his composure, understanding that panic would only exacerbate the situation. He asked Blake, "You're familiar with this place. How can we get out?"
Blake promptly led the way, running ahead while explaining, "Follow me. The standard entrances and exits of the arena are temporarily closed before games to prevent unauthorized access. Only the team entrances and exits remain open."
Bruce and Martin closely trailed behind her, maintaining their rapid pace. Elizabeth, trembling and wiping away tears, followed Martin apprehensively. Helen and her cameraman continued to document the harrowing situation, steadfast in their professional duties.
These reporters seemed unfazed, perhaps desensitized to such incidents, as they were accustomed to covering such occurrences. Upon witnessing several bodies in pools of blood on the path, a girl couldn't contain her emotions and let out a fearful cry.
Passing a convenience store and rounding a corner, they reached the players' tunnel. Victor, concealed in a corner, had already detected the approaching sounds and discreetly extended the barrel of his AR.
As they approached the corner, Martin sensed danger and halted Blake with a cautionary word. However, before he could finish his sentence, the sharp retort of AR gunfire erupted. The bullets struck the granite floor, creating a shower of debris.
Blake was in shock, her back pressed against the wall as she trembled with fear. Bruce swiftly retrieved a pistol concealed under his arm and, capitalizing on the brief interval between the assailant's shots, took aim and fired two shots.
Nonetheless, with over thirty meters between them, the outdated pistol couldn't contend with the rifle's automatic fire. Victor, invigorated by the screams of fear, aimed to advance.
Bruce immediately fired two warning shots to deter him from advancing. "We need to go," he instructed Martin. "I'll keep him occupied. Find another route and make sure he follows you. Don't let him enter this corridor; we need to block him in."
Martin didn't hesitate and turned to flee. Without a concealed carry permit and without carrying a firearm, he knew he'd only be a hindrance in this situation. As the gunshots reverberated, some individuals, unable to control their instincts, instinctively turned back and ran towards the source of the commotion.
Among them, Miller, with the best physical fitness, outpaced the others. He thought of the locker room as a potential refuge and decided to rush inside, hoping to escape the assailant's notice and secure his safety.
Miller ran faster and faster, leaving the others trailing dozens of meters behind. Spotting an open door about ten meters ahead, he dashed towards it, only to encounter a blood-spattered gunman emerging from within.
To his horror, he recognized the shooter: Andre!
Beside Andre was Miller's fearsome adversary, Judith. Before he could even raise his weapon, the two rushed past him and escaped through an exit.
Unveiling his firearm, Andre aimed with precision and fired three rounds. The crisp gunshots pierced the air, and Miller, gasping, crumpled to the ground.
As Miller's blood seeped onto the floor, an anguished "Ah…" was all he managed to utter. His short life came to a sudden and brutal end at the hands of Andre.
The gunshots sent shockwaves through the crowd, causing some cheerleaders to panic and turn back. Andre's eyes blazed with a sinister fervor as he advanced towards the source of the screams.
The majority of people, including the cast and crew, and the two reporters, sought refuge in a nearby convenience store. Upon encountering the lifeless body of the store owner, their screams intensified.
Martin, hearing the gunshots and footsteps drawing nearer, took quick action. He pushed Elizabeth into the store and urgently advised her, "Hide! Get down on the ground!"
Elizabeth, along with Blake and others, retreated to the innermost section of the convenience store. Meanwhile, Martin, determined to avoid the terrified girls, leaped over the store counter. The cacophony of their screams did little to ease the tense situation.
Taking refuge beneath the sealed counter, Martin's eyes fell upon the plastic basket brimming with glass bottles of Coke. Swiftly, he seized two bottles, gripping them tightly in his hands. The cold sensation of the Coke bottles against his palms had a strangely soothing effect, sharpening his focus.
Aware that, if he were the assailant, the screams would undoubtedly lure him to investigate, Martin realized the importance of diverting attention. This way, Bruce wouldn't find himself flanked by two gunmen wielding automatic weapons.
With his heart pounding, Martin composed himself, seeking the right moment to strike back. The girls' terrified screams served as their unwitting bait.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth, frantic upon realizing Martin's absence, did her utmost to stifle her fear, biting her lip fiercely to quell any sound, and lay low on the ground.
On the opposite side, April clamped her hand firmly over her mouth, wide-eyed, while Blake's trembling finger signaled sil weence.
Even the two reporters, typically fearless in their line of work, felt the fear coursing through them at that moment. However, Helen's resolve persisted, as she found a vantage point to place her DV camera on a shelf, its lens trained on the store's entrance.
The cameraman maneuvered the camera from the ground, positioning it in the corridor, aimed at the door. Even in the face of potential danger, they were determined to capture evidence of the assailant.
Amidst the running footsteps, Martin strained to listen. Soon, the gunfire ceased, replaced by the unmistakable sound of an AR-type rifle with an empty magazine.
This was the opportunity he had been awaiting. Dodging aside, Martin swiftly rose to his feet, propelling a glass Coke bottle held tightly in his right hand like a grenade.
Andre was in the midst of reloading and remained oblivious to Martin's presence. The heavy glass bottle struck him squarely on the forehead, producing a resounding thud. Dazed, Andre staggered back, blood oozing from the wound.
Martin sprang into action, vaulting over the counter, then launching himself at Andre. Before reaching his target, Martin hurled the Coke bottle held in his left hand, and it landed with a whirling crash on Andre's head.
The force of the impact caused the Coke bottle to rupture internally, and shards of glass scratched Andre's scalp. He crumpled to the ground, momentarily stunned.
With Martin's weight bearing down on him, Andre cried out in agony. His desperate hand instinctively sought his holster, but Martin, refusing to grant him the opportunity, restrained his left hand with one knee and pressed down on his right hand.
With his free hand, Martin seized another glass Coke bottle from a plastic basket affixed to the wall, delivering a powerful blow to Andre's head. The bottle shattered upon impact, its shards slicing into Andre's flesh.
Stifling his struggles, Andre succumbed to Martin's relentless assault. Blood trickled down his face as Martin's relentless blows continued, unrelenting.
Andre's consciousness began to wane when, gasping for breath, he finally stilled. Martin, his breathing heavy, remained vigilant, firmly pressing down on Andre as he shouted, "Someone, help me! Get me a rope!"
Elizabeth, upon hearing Martin's voice, mustered the courage to rise. In a panic, she approached, took a rope like waistband from her waist, and handed it to Martin.
Martin, covered in blood, appeared like a demon in a sea of crimson. Unfazed and unafraid, Elizabeth felt an unfamiliar sense of security emanating from him.
Blake, liberated from April's grasp, met her gaze. As they averted their eyes from each other, an instinctive reaction led to simultaneous expletives: "Bitch!"
With the immediate danger momentarily averted, Helen, clutching her DV camera, hastened to document the unfolding events. Martin flipped Andre over and began securing his hands and feet with the rope.
Others gathered around, and Blake inquired with genuine concern, "Are you okay?"
Suddenly, a shotgun blast resounded, prompting a girl who had just ventured out to flee in fear once more. Martin discerned the gunfire originating from the corridor near Bruce, realizing there was a third gunman, and Bruce might be facing an attack from both sides.
Determined to confront the threat, Martin wiped the blood from his face, took up the rifle, removed two AR magazines, placing one in his pocket and reloading the other. Elizabeth observed Martin with trembling anticipation.
April pleaded, "Don't go, can't you stay here?"
With a reassuring smile, Martin responded as he departed, "My brother is out there!"
In the past, it was Bruce who had protected him from behind, but now the roles were reversed, and Martin stood ready to shield Bruce's back.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone