"Fuck," he growled, rolling to take another shot.
He couldn't make his legs work. He couldn't evenfeelhis legs! Dragging himself forward, Sin raised his left hand, firing wildly. He had to get back to cover! Hoping to make it back to his angel, he crawled, dragging his broken body behind him.
"God," he muttered, "This is pushing it a bit too much, ok?" He shot again, wildly, and heard a man yelp.
"Sin?" Rissa asked.
"Don't fucking move, Princess," he snapped.
"Ok."
From down the street, someone laughed. "She's talking, so hasn't wiped. You gonna give the order yet?"
"Nope, but I've got a bullet with your name on it," he called back.
"Yeah? So why you lying in the street, Father?"
A bullet hit the ground beside him, and Sin flinched.
"Not a Father. I don't fucking take open confession," he called back, trying to locate the shooter.
The next bullet hit his hand, and he felt something rip as the searing pain flooded him. Sin gasped, yanking his arm to his chest and struggled to crawl faster. Another bullet tagged his leg, but his armor stopped it from penetrating. Daring to look up, he followed its trajectory back. There, a lean man moved up the street, holding two pistols trained on him. Sin fired with his good hand, the pain affecting his aim, but he hit the man in the throat.
"One left," Sin moaned.
"And you're fucked," the last man said around a laugh.
The boom of something hitting metal rang out as the thug jumped onto the dumpster. Sliding down the top, the man's eyes were locked on the wounded priest, but he was right next to Rissa. The asshole had used their own cover to hide his approach!
Sin rushed to raise his weapon—and heard a shot ring out. It wasn't his. Tensing, expecting the worst, he rolled. Dodging, still struggling to get a shot off, Sin watched the man collapse before he'd even pulled the trigger. A red stain began spreading from under the attacker's armpit.
By the corner of the dumpster, Rissa's arms were still raised, clutching his dropped pistol with both hands. He watched as she realized what she'd done and simply let go, the weapon clattering to the ground.
"Sin?" she begged, turning her delicate face to him. Her eyes were so big. "Sin!"
He sighed and waved her down. "That's the last one, Princess."
"Did I kill him?" Her voice quavered.
"You're good," he said, unwilling to lie to her but not wanting to answer the question either. "You hurt?"
"No."
"Ok," he said, dragging himself over. "I am."
She took a deep breath and scurried to his side. Her robe was stained with filth, and her hands were no better, but she reached for him. "How bad?" she asked, trying to be calm.
"Can't use my legs. You have to get out of here, Riss, because more are gonna come." He took a deep breath and laid his head on the asphalt. "Can you find your way back?"
"No," she said. "Not alone."
He chuckled, wincing at the pain of it. They both knew she could. What she meant was she wouldn't. "Ok," he said. "ThenI have a problem for you to solve. I have four guns, less than a hundred rounds left. My transmitter will grant me access to any building in this city. Besides that, we have a credit card from OutLink andyou. How do we get out of this? We probably have twenty minutes before their friends show up. Maybe less."
He watched her eyes flick from side to side as if she was reading something. Her brow wrinkled for a moment, then she smiled, reaching down to touch his chest. "And you. Where is the credit card? Can you get behind the dumpster?"
He slipped the card from a pocket on the underside of his arm, and passed it to her. Then he started crawling, dragging himself the last four feet with his elbows. She'd trusted him, so it was his turn to do the same.
"There's a few bodies over there," he warned her. "It won't be pretty."
