Besieged

Kendall tucked her knife in the top of her boot as she crouched at the corner of the wall. Her eyes darted here and there, scoping out the perimeter, before dropping to the rag doll on the floor. It was out in the open, its painted fabric face stained with old blood and God knew what other fluids. All Kendall had to do was lean forward slightly and grab it. Of course, that would mean exposing herself to enemy gunfire.

Fluid oozed from a bullet graze she’d acquired almost two full days ago - infection had set in, making a dark green stain on the ragged sleeve of her shirt. She knew it was a bad sign when the area went numb last night, but on the other hand, she gave thanks that the throbbing no longer bothered her. She didn’t know when she’d have a chance to see a medic - or even if she’d recognize one, since they had to stop wearing the insignia on their uniforms. The enemy started taking them out first.

The doll’s legs were bent at crazy angles, as though broken in some fall. Kendall imagined that somewhere a little girl couldn’t sleep because her dolly had gotten lost. Kendall had no hopes of finding that little girl, but she couldn’t just leave the abandoned doll behind, either. Hugging her injured arm close to her body, she pressed her back against the wall. Her knees had begun to ache from sitting crouched for so long, but that was a minor irritation. She carefully balanced on the balls of her feet and eased around the corner.

This building used to be a school - so it made the perfect stronghold. That is, until the enemy breached the almost bullet-proof cafeteria windows and set up shop in the west section. Kendall and a few others held the classrooms and labs. They traded the hallways back and forth on a day to day basis. Kendall and her small group of compatriots had no idea where the rest of their people were. The good news, though, was that the enemy didn’t know where theirs were, either. So they battled one another, picking people off here and there, and hoping that when reinforcements finally arrived that they didn’t belong to the other guy.

Kendall wiped a gritty, bloodstained hand on the front of her uniform, and she pushed lank, greasy hair out of her eyes. She wondered if she could still get to the gymnasium through the underground network of steam pipes and sewer lines - she could kill just for a shower. She turned her head slightly, holding her breath while she strained to hear anything from the hallway. Then she eased around the corner.

Nothing.

The doll was in plain sight, but Kendall couldn’t hear so much as a heartbeat. Slowly, she eased further out, her eyes white around the edges as she tried to look past her natural periphery. Her boots creaked a little - new issue at last, and the blisters were worth the warmth and trustworthy tread - and she froze. A sharp breath forced its way out of her lungs, and she caught it again, nearly choking with the effort. Her heart pounded in her ribcage, and somewhere under the stench of her own sweat, she could smell the infection that raged in her arm. She wiggled her fingers a bit, making sure she still had control over them, and she counted to three.

Then she darted into the hallway, dove for the doll. Mid roll, she snatched it up and hugged it to her chest while a barrage of gunfire sang over her head. Thankfully, those other guys had sub-standard weapons, although they’d started using whatever they could for ammunition. A shredded quarter lodged in Kendall’s bad arm. In God we trust.