Bug: Chapter 1 first draft

The first draft of chapter 1 of Bug. I am less focused on grammar and spelling at this point.

…

She stood back up and quickly rolled the bike into the alley between the school and the store. She leaned the bike on the backside of a garbage dumpster so it would be out of site as they ran down the alley looking for her. She looked up at the loading dock about 30 yards from the garbage bin. It was a raised platform with a chain link fence. She could lay on the ground and rest the rifle on the fence and finish off any survivors. It was either her or them, and she wanted to see her daughters again. She needed them to follow her, so she unholstered Dearil’s pistol and walked to the corner of the store. She pressed her back to the wall and began to slowly slide towards the entrance. As she approached the nearest window she could hear yelling inside. It wasn’t clear what was being said but it was clear who was saying it. It was Dearil. He sounded upset to say the least. She saw a man with a vest. The vest had a patch of a cougar sown into it. She gripped the pistol and aimed it at him. She pulled the trigger. The window shattered as the muzzle kicked in her hands. The man fell the ground and then she turned to run.

She ran to the corner of the store her feet splashing in the puddles of water. As she turned the corner she readied her lighter. The timing of this would have to be close enough that she could get out of the blast rang but they would have time to enter it. As she waited a moment to listen for them to follow her she felt water on her wrist. She looked up to the rain cloud above, as drops fell on her face. She heard two men yelling at each other, and then their heavy footfalls. Ready or not, here they come, she thought to herself. She sprinted towards the garbage bin, light at the ready. As she reached the motor bike she saw her bandana in the gas cap. I was starting to get wet from the rain. She put the lighter under the bandana and struck the wheel. The lighter did not light. She could hear the men. They had just reached the mouth of the alleyway. They were only a few yards away. She struck the lighter’s wheel with her thumb again. This time the lighter produced a flame.

“I’m gonna strangle you lady!” one of the men shouted from the other side of the dumpster.

“Why don’t you make it easier on yourself,” the other man followed, “Come on out from behind that dumpster so I can shoot you in the head.”

Her hand was shaking. They were too close, she though in a panic. She took a deep breath, and steadied her hand. After a moment of holding the lighter the flame had transferred to the bandana. She turned and ran towards the loading dock. The dumpster concealed her from the two men most of the way. Until she got about 5 feet from the steps. She heard gunfire from behind her, as the area around her exploded with the impact of bullets. As she took her the first step up to the loading dock she felt a sharp pain in her left thigh. She took the second step and the pain in her leg shot up through her body. She fell to the ground, her momentum landing her on the top of the stairs. She had been shot in the leg. Blood had painted the floor she was laying on. I can’t die here, she said to herself, finding the resolve to fight through the pain. She spun around on her belly to face them and then retrieved her riffle from her shoulder. She looked back that the men, they were in the kill zone. It was now or never.

The men were shouting taunts at her as she lay there prone and bleeding. Her body was pulsing with adrenaline, and she peered through the scope at the bike’s gas can. The flame had burnt about halfway up the bandana, but was starting to die out from the rain. She hadn’t considered the rain. She aimed the riffle at the gas tank and pulled the trigger. The kick of the riffle absorbed into her shoulder while she lay prone. The bullet punctured a hole through the tank but just stood there.

“You missed you dumb bit..” the nearest man’s taunt was interrupted by a concussive explosion. A ball of flame engulfed the two men and pushed the garbage bin backwards about 10 yards. The scanned the area with her weapon. Two charred bodies lay in the alley. A sense of relief hit her as she saw the men motionless on the ground. She knew there were at least 3 of them. She saw one go down, in the grocery store, and then there were these two. With her scope she inspected the bodies. One man had lost both of his legs and had a large hole in his chest. He must have been the one nearest to the bike when it went off. The second man was badly burned, his skin blackened. He was wearing a vest. A vest with a cougar patch sown into it. This was the man she shot at, and saw fall to the ground. He must have survived her gunfire. An uneasy sense of panic started run through her mind as she wondered where the third man was. Where was Dearil?

“Here I am girly.” A familiar voice whispered from behind her.

She rolled on her back to see the silhouette of a man a few feet behind her in the loading dock. He was in a sprint charging up to her. Dearil’s face revealed as he broke through the shadows. She raised the riffle and pulled the trigger but he was already on top of her and the bullet went wide. She struggled to hold onto the riffle but used his weight to wrench it out of her hands. She was pinned down, Dearil’s full weight on top of her. She looked up at him terrified, and saw him smile. He then smashed her head with the butt of her riffle and her vision went black.