Adam dropped to the ground bonelessly. He managed to fall forwards onto the armchair, wrangling his legs under him after he was supported against it. Settled on his knees he grasped the revolver firmly in his hands and took a steading breath. He looked over at Al and saw him behind the far side of his desk shooting in a steady stream towards the window breaker. He pulled his trigger the last time before yanking himself back behind his mahogany cover. Adam watched him him cock back the hammer of his gun and the magazine fall out as he reloaded. Adam looked at the gun in his hands, incredulous. He pulled back the metal part on top the revolver back with his right thumb as he'd seen those in movies do many times before, unsure if such an action meant the thing would fire now or if there was other things he had to twist or push. Then he pointed the gun at the window and fought the urge to close one of his eyes as he somewhat unsteadily took aim. As he sighted in on the large window hole, he saw through the blinds that had been shot into small smithers the front barrel of a Tommy gun(!?) be shoved into the office. If the thug on the other side of the broken glass could of seen into the room he had just stretched afore mentioned gun into he would of seen two eyebrows comically raise from behind the barrel of a large revolver as Adam's face popped the smallest bit out of cover in order to defend his new partner in licensed justice. However, the thug was not looking into the office, he was instead shoving the drum of his weapon through the tangled blinds and postioning his body as far away as possible from any potential retaliating fire.
The spray of bullets entered the room as the gun panned from the far left of the room closer to the centre where they would then definitely skewer Adam and then maybe skewer Al too. The sound of gunfire erupting again startled Adam and in response he pulled down on the trigger, jerking back with recoil and surprise. There was a cry from the the other side of the door was the gun stopped firing and fell towards the floor-it's sweeping passage across the office halting before it reached Al's nicely upholstered chairs. Adam paused after he dropped his revolver back into the ready position.Al slid a new magazine into his weapon mechanically as he looked over at Adam in shock. There was a moment of silence as everyone processed what had happened. Adam's shock at what he'd done faded as he realised there was people on the other side of the door that had come here to kill them and probably would start trying to do so again once this brief weird moment had passed. The revolvers boom was the first sound to break the silence. In response a loud curse was heard from the group that were hidden behind what remained of Al's mangled blinds and window pane. Footsteps could be heard as feet pounded away from the office, men fleeing what they had just been sieging. Al jumped up from behind his desk blinking stupidly.
"shit kid." He managed to spit out. He ran for the door as if those words were a starting pistol and opened it leading with his shoulder, the body of the man Adam had shot no doubt proving to be a heavy obstacle.
Adam sprang from behind his chair to follow. His breathing ran ragged and he could keenly feel a heaviness in his heart. He followed Al through the partially open door and out into the hallway. His vision darkened as he laid eyes on the prone form waiting on the other side of the smashed window. His view shrank to that of the wheezing man and the hole he was clutching in his chest. He locked gazes with the man as his franticly roaming eyes found Adams own. The mans pained gasping continued as he held Adam with his stare. His orbs had stopped their frantic movements as the nameless man saw the glistening in Adam's gaze. His expression was not something that could be described, for how did you describe the expression of a man who looked into the remorseful eyes of his killer- one who'd not expected to die, one who had died at the hands of a man he had been sent to kill. Adam could not describe what he saw, or the guilt and confusion he felt. Thankfully Al saved him from ever coming close to understanding it, to have the chance to dwell on what he'd done. Instead he was pulled forward by Al and shoved down the hallway after the men that had come to kill them.
"go, they'll be on the stairs go."
Adam stumbled the first few steps after Al's shove. The stumbling was quickly righted transforming into a run, then a sprint. Behind Adams retreating form the detective and the crook looked at one another. Whatever emotion the dying man had shown Adam was gone, replaced by a grim resolve. The detective's expression mimicked the thug's own, the differences between the two men at that moment seeming very small and minuscule. Al stepped closer and pointed his gun at the man as he propped himself up on his elbows. The man nodded at Al, and he pulled the trigger. The prolonged agony of the mans death cut short with some dignity. Al's hard eyes looked to Adam's retreating form with grim acceptance of his role in helping the man sever his mortal coil. Some hunch ay he thought to himself darkly. He watched the retreating form of his new pal with a burning curiosity before his thoughts turned, wondering about where the deceased man was headed. He wondered almost idly wether his soul was travelling up to the pearly gates now his time on the world was over as he stood motionless besides the cooling body. He took one last look at the unknown fellas face before running to follow after Adam and his revolver. He wished he could say he knew the crook was going to find his way to the golden roads on the other side, but some how, Al had his doubts.
Adam had heard the bang that sounded from behind him as he fled and tears blurred his vision ever further as he flew towards the ajar door at the opposite end of the building. He wiped his eyes with a gun clutching arm to clear his vision. He reached the end of the hallway and rested his hand on the doorframe to the stair case. His faculties had begun to return as he sprinted down the length of the offices, the threat in-front of him breaking through the numbing shock and temporarily shoving the dying mans face from his mind. Shaking his head as if to clear it he chased down the stair case after the retreating gang, hearing the clamour of the groups footsteps a level below him.
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The swearing running group stomped down the thin metal staircase with vigour, fear fuelling their footfalls. Remembering what Al' had said about the building Adam patted the wall the next time he reached a landing in the parallel descending stair case before he did the same.
"Sorry Berta." He muttered, his voice a little hoarser then he'd expected.
Adam then continued after the group of men, jumping stairs as he reached the bottom of each set and gradually gaining on the clump of clamouring swearing law breaking individuals. In response the swearing picked up alongside the mens pace as they skipped steps and clumped further together as they fought to be the first ones to reach the bottom of the staircase and run from the building into the devouring night. As they traversed the last stair case Adam landed on the landing behind them and swung round into the staircase wall, raising his revolver. In response to the loud clang of his landing behind them the men raised their assorted weaponry and shot a wave of bullets toward Adam, some of the men not bothering to aim in their worried flight. Adam felt three blossoming pains as bullets tore through left side and one lodged in the middle section of his torso. The men did not stop running in light of Adam's grunts of pain, in fact the sucess of their fire did not influence them in their decision to flee at all, if they were indeed even aware that their fire had been successful. In their rush to escape, three of the men managed to set foot on one of the metal steps at once. They squeezed against one another as their combined weight rested on the poor thin step for only a brief moment of the desperate decent, the leading men stepping away onto the next step downwards much quicker then the man that had just joined them from behind. The exit of this death trap was in sight. However, the man who had skipped a step to draw level with two of his comrades did not join them in their glorious break for freedom and safety. The step squealed as he had landed on it, half wedged between man and guardrail. The metal bent downwards and the two leading troubadours simply stumbled forward before leaping down the remaining flight and landing soundly on the concrete floor. The fourth man of the group just kept running, oblivious or uncaring to his friends wobbling predicament. The leaping idiot who had before teetered precariously on his heels was sent headlong into his upcoming stair case tumble. The fourth stooge shared his friend a grimace as he rushed after his bouncing body and jumped over his prone form at the foot of the stairwell on his way away from the mans powerful bullets. one shot rang out above the groups fleeing heads as Adam managed to shoot his large borrowed revolver one handed from his slumped position on the wall. His other hand rested over the wound in his centre, spoiled for choice for which gaping wound to cover.
Adam slid down the wall and let the revolver clatter to the corrugated floor as he wheezed impressively with pain. His hands tumbled to the flask at his side as he tired to get the wondrous healing liquid into his body. The new stabometer that had appeared in Adams mind(after he got stabbed) was firmly jittery against the end of the scale in the 'YOU'VE BEEN SHOT' section-a new addition to the scale. Adam gulped down the elixir once he'd flung the cap of the bottle, taking a handful of deep swallows. He heard Al draw near as he gasped for breath, his need to inhale oxygen having interfered with his shotgunning of the endless concoction. He let the flask drop to his side and groaned.
Al hurried down the steps to his slumped body. Once he hovered over Adam brows dangerously furrowed Adam lifted an arm and turned his body, pointing down the stair case. Al took one more worried glance at his bleeding body before hurtling down the last of the stair case, the brief surprise that had flashed on his face making him look momentarily younger to Adam's eyes.
The bullets pushed themselves slowly out of Adam's body, the tissue behind them knitting back together. the organs in his chest miraculously repaired as the power took hold, the bullets pushing out of his chest along the paths they had entered. As the pieces of metal ammo clattered to the floor after sliding out and falling down Adam's front he found his ability to breath without gasping restored. Adam's wheezing steadily halted and he took the tiniest sip of the elixir to seal over the remaining stiffness and scarring in his flesh. He placed the flask back at his hip and it stuck there with the cap screwed back on, not a drip spilled out on the stair case despite the fact he had just dropped and left it it open to leak out there. Adam pulled himself into a straighter sitting position as the lingering pain was replaced with the fuzzy sense of well being the drink left behind. He heard Al' shout down from the bottom of the stairwell.
"We got a live one"
In repose Adam grunted before getting out a weak "sounds good" with the aid of his newly restored lungs. His response didn't really line up with Al's shout and that seemed to remind Al of the sate he had last seen Adam in.
"You good up there" Al called out after a momentary pause, perhaps fearful wether or not he'd even get an answer.
"Fine and Dandy" Adam called back, speaking in what he felt was a good approximation of the local dialect. He realised that as he did so he also effected the accent the locals here possessed, speaking with the tongue of someone who wasn't an inter dimensional interloper. It appeared that alongside his grey skin the being who'd thrown him into this world had also gave his voice a little change just to help him fit in a little better. He chuckled at the thought of it and smiled acerbically. Thanks for the help voice, really helped me not get shot and shanked. Adam's thoughts wondered further separate from his reality, disparaging the voice in his head that had sent him here and possibly even sent Al to him-manufacturing this situation. Adam was understandably delirious with what he'd been through and he did not think about how he would explain away the three missing bullet wounds in his body to the man who investigated falsehoods for a living or about other things much more unpleasant. Adam quite happily directed scathing critiques towards the voice instead, his eyes unfocused and staring at the brick wall of the stairwell.
Al loudly trudged up the stair case, his steps heavy with the weight of the unconscious man he carried over his shoulder. He reached the first landing huffing. He looked at Adam's distant face and decided against staying anything to him, simply frowning a little instead. Al really had no idea what was going on.