Snippet #2534322

Their cheerful chase soon turned into a messy massacre. Izzy was the first to note the change and veered for safety. With no idea whether the driver of the death machine was a hero or some kind of crazed criminal, whilst her pursuers were distracted… or dead, she’d leapt up onto the sidewalk and slammed through a door which led into the high school.

Once inside, she turned a full circle then returned to the door which had closed on its own to peer through the small glass slip of window. Her chest was heaving from the sprint. Izzy was shaken. She was by no means expecting this to be easy, but being the prey to a fifty-strong pack of criminals within the first half an hour was hardly going to sit well with anyone. Gunfire sounded nearby, joining the metallic cacophony of steel on concrete as the sheets which had shot loose from the forklift slid and shuddered to a halt after slicing through plenty of bodies.

She was squinting, trying to make out the man’s band on his arm as he turned off the engine. But it was no use. So, she took a little while to study the map. The armoury wasn’t far. It had already been proved to Izzy that she was too dependent upon her weapons. Her eyes scanned some more, noting places of interest. The armoury, vehicle storage, museum – she managed a snort at her idea of what sorts of things they’d have on display – and… a SafeSite building.

Something stirred in the dimness of the school corridor behind her and she screwed the map back up dropped into a crouch, back facing the corner of the door and the wall. After waiting about a minute, she straightened back up and glanced out of the window again. Another figure had joined the man who had probably saved her life. This time, she could make out the green armbands. Izzy made to open the door with a relieved sigh but something slammed her into it instead, so hard that it stole all of the breath from her lungs. Her lip had burst from the force as her face crashed against the door, she was flipped around bodily, unable to do much in the confusion, and found herself looking ironically at the man who had been after her since the get-go at the hospital. He hadn’t a weapon but his hands were doing a pretty good job of strangling her. She clawed at his hands and wrist.

There wasn’t much of a struggle before her knee found its way into his crotch. He didn’t let go but his grip loosened as he wheezed and Izzy was able to yank free and apply some unkind pressure to his awkwardly positioned wrist. A yelp indicated that it had the effect she was after. The tables turned and the choke-out that ensued was chaotic. She weighed less than him, and he was taller, even if she’d been practically hanging off his neck or squeezing with all the force she had, he’d have probably still been able to throw her off. Which he did. There was quiet in the corridor as they both drew in haggard breaths. Then he began to stumble away. Izzy was not reckless enough to go after him, so pulled open the door and escaped onto Westway.

She made for the two heroes, trying to wipe up the mess of her face with a sleeve as she did. If Izzy had been feeling sorry for herself, she stopped when she took in the riddled man with the mask.

“Shit, Batman.” Her words came out muffled by sore lips, but the desired, half-sarcastic half-shocked tone was recognisable.

Perhaps now wasn’t the best time to outline her plan to them. She eyed the other hero. For practical reasons, they should really take Batman’s handguns, stock up at the armoury, then head to the SafeSite and clean out any scum which had thought to lay claim to it. But they were the good guys, right?

“I really had that under control.” She said in a way of thanks.
“Uh, hospital?” It came out ‘hoshpipul’.
A mashed up mouth and a South African accent didn't make the best match for communicating effectively.