urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:avengingarrows Hawkeye Hawkeye Hawkeye 2006-03-02T09:27:03Z urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:avengingarrows:648 Balls to the wall 2006-03-02T07:18:07Z 2006-03-02T09:27:03Z Fifteen - no, wait, make that sixteen - of those assclowns on my tail. <br /><br />Anyone else right about now would be askin' themselves what the hell they'd just gotten themselves into. Not me. This is what I <i>live</i> for. <br /><br />I loosed three shafts before I even thought about it. I don't need to look to know if the taser tips hit their marks. Me, miss? Don't make me laugh.<br /><br />Three down, thirteen to go, and I'm sleddin' down Mt. St. Helens in the asscrack of night on a piece of armor-plated steel from what's left of one of the Empire's precious choppers. Cold wind feels good on my face. Makes me feel alive - really alive. This is it, the thrill of the chase. An' all I can think about while these bozos shoot for my skull is Bobbi. <br /><br />God, Bobbi. How can one person mean so freakin' much? She does. She went to hell and back for me, for the others - literally. I owe her. Bigtime. Don't know if I can ever repay a debt that big. Doesn't mean I'm not gonna try. I'd like to start by ramming that jackass Mephisto's head into a wall. Right now, I'll just be glad to go home and sleep in the same bed with her again.<br /><br />I'm sure glad I took those skiing lessons from Wanda. Don't think the two right behind me were that lucky, judging by the crack I just heard. <br /><br />Time for the fun stuff - assuming I don't get my damn head lopped off by a pine in the process. Two stun arrows to the left flank - I can see those bastards trying to get me in a pincer movement, and a flash tip to a tree trunk to cover me as I change course, zigging one way to send another three taser tips to the right. Zagging back across the mountain to let fly with a couple net arrows. Slicing across virgin snow. Screw the Olympics. This is where it's at.<br /><br />Fingers are almost frozen to the bone. These temps are no good for my string or my pull. I have to compensate for the cold every time I draw. Two of 'em left. These are odds I can really dig. And just for them, I saved the best for last. <br /><br />Vomit gas tips. The kids love 'em.<br /><br />It's right around then that their base goes "boom". Music to my ears, man. It's the sound of a job well done. <br /><br /><br />Headsup, Bobbi. I'm comin' home.