Liar, Liar, Set on Fire

Sniping Through a Window Part 2

Chapter ll holy shit wowza trying to crank up the intenseness-

~Last time~

But that wasn't going to happen. My chest still burns like hell, my head feels like someone's shattered it. It's getting harder and harder to hide how much pain I am in from Dirk. He couldn't know none of them could know.

So I do the only thing I can think of.

Run.

~o0o~

A dark SUV is parked boiling in the unforgiving suns rays, a block from a pair of clear glass doors. Silently waiting for Dirk to safely exit the worn down and dull appearing apartment building. Innermost sits a grim looking man, worn down and uneasy, General Riggins. In the seat directly behind him a rifle wielding smart looking young man, formerly dressed, Friedrick. Though his eyes held a sense of ignorance and his face had a dull expression.

They both quietly watch as a slim figure slips clumsily out of the front doors and runs past their vehicle. Riggins noted with furrowed eyebrows that they looked fatigued and stumbled painfully one-two many times for it to be normal. He contemplated getting out and confronting the figure due to the possibility of it being Dirk. That thought of it being the boy spiked his concern more then he felt comfortable with. He always had a soft spot for the youth.

"Is that him?"
"I don't know." The General spoke solemnly, eyes trailing the shakily retreating figure.
"What?"
"What?"
"It's hard to hear you through the comm in my ear."
"I'm not talking to you through the comm, I'm talking right to you."
"I've got a shot." Friedrick drawled out aiming his gun at Dirk through the dingy 2nd story window. Of course, neither of them knew Dirk was there and not, not there.
"I think Gently just left, we- what do you mean you've got a shot-"
"Do I take the shot?"
"Do NOT take the shot-" Riggins started, desperately swiveling around in his chair.
"Confirmed, taking the shot."

~o0o~

Dirk Gently stood staring numbly at the rich soft green door. He listened stunned as unsteady footsteps fell farther and farther down the hall. Still not completely registering that Todd had straight up run away from him. Looking down at his feet he noticed Todd had dropped something in his rush: a tiny, palm sized stress ball; one of the ones you see on amazon all the time, except it had two little dots for eyes and a small soft beak. It was... cute, he thought. Not something he thought a guy like Todd would have.

He bent down to pick up the bird toy. The window behind him which he only minutes ago climbed through prematurely, is exactly punctured by a sniper bullet; not one crack. The bullet aimed at his head misses only because of his decent and zips past where he would have been standing, silently hitting the apartment ceiling.

~o0o~

Unknownst to anyone the bullet does hit a target, just not the one it was originally intended on. And it is witnessed, by a captured Farah Black that all.

~o0o~

Riggins turned strictly in place and smacked Friedrick as many times and as harshly as he could from the driver seat, which was a surprising amount. Friedrick made several pathetic attempts to defend himself, even though he is the one holding a rifle he completely failed.

"The hell is wrong with you!? You're endangering the whole goddamn operation-"
"Look he's leaving! He's leaving!" Friedrick cried desperately, most likely trying to derail his Generals anger.
"Shit."

Riggins turned the car wheel mercissily trailing after the slow moving person, not knowing who it was...

~o0o~

Two people in an unmarked stake out watch car, clearly flummoxed. They are police officers. The same police officers that had warned Todd to,

"Seriously not leave town."

"What the fuck just happened. Was that a shot? Did someone take a shot or... what was that?" Zimmerfield Practically yelled at the ridiculous situation and the black SUV that just passed by the watch car.
"The plate came up military."
"Military, what the hell."
"The guy we're tailing...meeting up with another guy, who is also being tailed, by OTHER people?" Eztevez turned slowly to look at his partner, which in turn gave him a famous eyebrow raised look.

~o0o~

Todd was exhausted.
Mentally, physically, any type of tired you can think of to be. But not just tired, the type of weary tiredness where you can't tell if your awake or asleep or if that blurry smudge in some spot of your vision is something you should avoid or if it's talking to you. And if you've walked straight into a tree or you just got hit with an especially sickening wave of pain from your confused nerves. Well at least that's what Todd felt, he decided probably the best thing to do in this situation was sit down, and try to relax. As not to provoke another attack from his frail consciousness. He had, after all, dealt with this before. He'd had worse.

Todds vision started to clear of jarring ebony spots, and he sighed. Trying to calm his flaming heart. Starting to be able to piece together coherent thoughts. Painfully but effectively, his actions came shooting back to him.

~Todd~

You ran away from your problems... again!

Ughh. I looked around at my surroundings with a new sense of heaviness to my... everything. I was laying on the grimy cement of an alleyway that I've never seen before. I try to stand but it seems that the only thing keeping me from crumbling to the ground is the damp, muddy wall that I'm leaning on.

"Ahhrr- AHGRRRH-!" 

An eruption of pain blossoms through my veins. I can't even tell where from anymore.
"Shit..." I swear under my breath.
God, I'm so, so pathetic. Stupid, an idiot. I fucking ran away. From- from- Damnit...

I thought angrily while wiping my face roughly with my sleeve. I reach into my pocket and my hand bumps against cold metal. No, that's not what I'm looking for, I won't. Not again. I continue my search but I grow more and more panicked as I search all my pockets and find...Nothing.

"Where the fuck..."

Great.

I managed to lose Butters.

Fuck.

I curl up tighter into my knees, I'm so fucking cold.I'm always so goddamn cold all the time, and if I'm not I'm on fire. Literally.

I chuckle a bit at that. Now-a-days it's like I'm constantly in the middle of an attack. My nerves are so fucked. I'm so fucked, it's almost funny. My sickness is so severe.

I just want to fucking die.

No one would miss you, you've cut yourself off.

Fuck off.

Do it just do it fucking do it doit dOIT D O IT DO I T T D O IT-

"STOP! STOP!" My voice cracks desperately, echoing through the alleyways compressed walls that are feeling progressively more and more like they are ready to engulf me. My face starts to heat up, and my hands and my arms... no. Shit shit shit shit I'm having an attack pleasenonotnowofalltimespleasedonthavemer-

And that's when I hear the most wonderful British accent in the world.

"Todd..."