Then We Meet Death

                The police kept building in numbers; more and more were arriving to there side, and were advancing. John just keeps shooting. He had that look in his eyes that was like a rabid dog backed into a corner and fighting to survive. Funny how John wanted to die but he still fought for every bit of his life.
         All of John’s followers were taking cover behind cars, and unloading on the cops, but the cops were doing the exact same thing; everyone was firing non-stop back and forth. Bullets tore up everything. Peter took cover next to John behind a  Nissan Maxima. Peter had his RPG out, and fired two rockets down range at the cops before he moved again. One hit between two cars some officers were taking cover behind; it killed on of them and injured two others. Cars all over the street were getting set ablaze from the gunfire and molotovs that John’s people were throwing.
         John was running out of men fast. They weren’t soldiers; they were angry bums he picked off the street. They didn’t know how to survive in a fire fight. The cops, on the other hand, kept coming, and know how to fight. It was an all out war at this point. The National Guard would be there soon,  and they would be ready for war; and John would loose that war. Everyone knew that. Everyone started falling back one car at a time, and leaving the dead and critically wounded behind.
         A Helicopter came up above the police and door marksmen began firing. Several of John’s soldiers began to fire at the helicopter, but with no real effect. 
         Peter ran out away from everyone to a car near the sidewalk, and set his RPG on top of the car and fired one at the Helicopter. The rocket hit the cockpit directly, and the door gunner fell out of the door and own onto a car. The helicopter sun into the side of a building, then down onto the police.
         Peter got up with a smile on his face; but he should have saved it. Two bullets entered Peter’s chest, with several others pinging off the car and shattering the windows. When they hit him he fell forward onto the hood of the car and spat out a little blood. Then another wave of bullets came; one hitting peter in the top of his head, and the next hit and detonated an RPG in his backpack; which detonated the other three in there, and blew up him and the car. Peter was about gone. All that was left was his waist and legs; along with a chunk of unrecognizable torso a few feet from his waist.
         John just looked at the mess with no feeling, and felt nothing till he noticed the shrapnel that tore up his left shin. He fell to the ground and looked around, and noticed he was the only one that saw Peter’s death. There was only about fifteen  of John’s people left, still firing crazily down at the police.
         Pavel then came running up to John, dropping his AK on the ground next to him.
         “Come on John! We have to get you out of here!” Pavel said, wrapping john’s arm around his shoulders so he could help him up. John’s wound was very visible, blood was building up on the outside of the pants leg and flooding off of it.
         “No Pavel!” John yelled, as he pulled out his phone, “call the others and get some get the get away cars here, I can keep fighting!” As he said this a stream of bullets came at them blowing out the car windows and tires; and one hit John. Hit him in the back and blew out the front right side of his chest, through two ribs.
         John fell and crawled for new cover, gasping for air. Pavel grabbed him under the arms and dragged him behind a new car. Once john had got his breath back, he grabbed Pavel by the collar and pulled him to his face and yelled:
         “Get them out of here! I’m done for!” A smile grew on John’s face after saying that. Then  he let go of Pavel’s collar and started laughing, “I’m done!” He coughed, blood poured out of his mouth.
         Pavel stared at him for a moment, then saw he really was done, and ran to help the others fall back.
         John looked down at his wound. Blood poured all over him, and he thought about how good the warm blood felt on his skin; especially since he was getting colder. He used his left hand and pulled himself up using a car door handle; leaning against the side of the car he used his left hand to put pressure on the wound and raise his gun in his right and fire at the police till he was out of ammo. When he ran out he caught two bullets back at him in the chest. He fell down, and used his good leg to push himself off the road as bullets pinged around him. Gasping for air, he made it into an alley and leaned up against a wall and pulled out his pistol.
         “What now John?” The man in the black suit says, appearing in front of John and looking down upon him.