I lept straight over his body, my heart racing. But then I realised. I needed to go and find Bucky. He could have survived. But my sister was blood; so was Bucky... I grabbed for the door, flinging it open to slam against the wall. I could see huge jeeps full of soldiers packed out on the cobble floor, hobbling away into the distance. I took a single step out. The weird feeling of the cold stunned me. I felt cold, however something seemed to be warming, satisfying. No matter where I went, I needed transport. I sprinted after one of the jeeps which just left the grounds. My gun was the first thing to claim the jeep. My leg powerfully flipped itself up into the carrier box. The dust from the cobble sand floor flew up into my eyes, paralizing me for a few seconds.
My fist violently gashed through the back window and 4 soldiers spun around to stare at me. Bullets whizzed by the top of my head. I lifted myself to a crouch and swung my legs forward in synchronised action. My legs pelted through the soldiers in the back, spearing them in half. This was going to be a hard fight.
If only I hadn't mucked up my first assessment, if only on I hadn't refused to go to the vicinities, if only I hadn't released the bomb. If only: that was what my life had come to. In 2 weeks everything had changed. Or more come to an end. I had put so many lives at risk and for all I know killed Bucky. If he was dead, then I don't know how I would live with myself. Bucky was dead. I could tell. Something was wrong. Not just in the world; in my heart.
YOU ARE READING
Natasha Romanoff | Guns and Roses
ActionI could see the needle anticipating my skin, almost as if it mocked me. Everything I had been through over the last month, but they couldn't resist. They need me, more than ever now. And if this the only way, they will surely take the bargain.
