18 April 2012
His plan had backfired. George was unsure where he was or how he had got there. He was dirty though and hungry. By the earthy pine smell in the air he knew he was in a forest.
He opened his eyes and despite the darkness that consumed the forest he could make out two silhouettes of men digging about five metres from where he lay.
The wheels were turning and he now recollected his fall, touching his head he felt the dried blood stuck in his hair, a good sized clot had formed and stemmed the bleeding. Whilst he was incredibly weak from the loss of blood and lack of food, he was at least now well rested and the exhaustion had been replaced by a feeling of pure emptiness; the tank was on empty and he was looking to make it on fumes.
The way he saw it he had two options; to sneak off and run. Although he didn't have the energy to run and if he was caught he was a goner, or to attempt to take the two men out, which would afford him the time and maybe some much needed fuel for his screaming engine of a stomach.
It was probably his stomach talking, but option two won out as his only realistic chance of survival. George looked around at the men and focused whilst looking for a suitable weapon, the fir cones lying around were of no use.
One of the men digging thought of the sandwich back in his car as he had missed his dinner that evening. George didn't care what the sandwich was, right now he could wolf down a plate of rocky mountain oysters, and if you don't know what they are then you don't want to know!
The other man thought he was tired with this digging and wanted to get home to his girlfriend and the promise of a jacuzzi ride; Fact Corp payed well.
"No fun for you and your soldier tonight" George smiled. "Time to say goodnight". He crept up on the pair finding a dislodged rock along the way. It would require both hands to pick up, which wasn't ideal considering the strength he had left.
He lifted the rock above his head and using gravity came down the back of the first diggers head, knocking his limp body into the shallow grave below. The second sprung round shocked at this ghostly apparitions attack, if he had thought logically he would of taken the physical approach and lept at the attacker, but his trained instinct took over and he reached for his holster and his pistol instead.
George heard his thoughts and reacted accordingly. "His head is low to the ground and in line, single shot to the head, 99% instant kill" the guy was robotic in his thought process. George had a millisecond to react "he goes high, I go low" as he dropped himself using the weight of the rock to the fur coned floor feeling a singe across the back of his head as the bullet hurtled into the ground where he had previously lay unconscious.
Digging deep George found a final upward propulsion and like a prizefighter boxer he landed a huge uppercut. His normal physique was that of a 100m runner, powerful and athletic, but most of all he was agile. The agility remained but the strength had diminished and a normal knock out punch only dazed his opponent. Regaining the rock once again gravity came down aiding him to finish off his sprawling opponent. He lay next to his downed opponent deeply breathing, he could of lay longer had his stomach not been telling hit to get the hell up! Searching their pockets he found some extra chewing gum, this gave him little joy but a flapjack in one diggers jacket elated him, although it only lasted all of five seconds before he set on his way tracing the diggers tracks back to their ride.
The Gift or The Curse - Chapter 4 • Opuss № I