Wait, what?
"Hoooooeeeeeeh! That was a good one! Right in the ten ring." My vision starts to clear, and I hone in on the voice yelling at me. It's Squeaker, grinning ear to ear. It looks terrifying with the huge scar that cuts down across his face. He offers me a hand up.
"Ow." Is all I manage to reply.
"Yeah yeah, boo hoo. Trust me, you want this life you'll have worse. Heehee!" He reaches down a hand to pull me up, which I happily accept. My chest feels like it's on fire. "So tell me, kiddo... how many rounds did I fire?"
I look at Squeaker stupidly. What?
"What?"
"How. Many. Rounds."
I feel at my chest. There's three holes in the kevlar, diagonal from the bottom left. He must have raked up and jeez I almost got shot in the head! This guy's insane!
"Uhhh... three?"
"EEEEEHHHHH. Wrong. And now you're dead." He pokes me hard in the forehead with his fingers, which almost knocks me over. "Seven rounds, full auto burst. How many are left in the mag?"
Uhhh... shit.
"Four.... teen?" I guess wildly.
"Oooh, ladies and gentlemen thank you and goodnight! Now you've put the rest of your team in bodybags, kiddo. Thirty-three left in the box. H&K MP5, you can tell by the click at the trigger pull. Were you even listening?"
My ears are still ringing from the impact, but to be honest... no I wasn't.
"Of course I was listening.. just... not used to the gun. I'll get it."
"You better... hehehe..." Squeaker puts his arm around my shoulders and squeezes me. It hurts like hell. "Everyone knows being a Street Samurai is about being fast. That's why they're all chromed up the wazoo kid. New hands, new feet, new arms. Faster, faster, faster. But, if you 'aint got it up here," he pokes me in the temple hard, "Then it doesn't matter how fast you are down here." And he pats me on the chest. I almost collapse. "SO! We train. Get that grey matter worth something, hehe, make it valuable to a team. Make you some moolay." He releases me and steps away.
I stand up straight, try not to show how much pain I'm in. I'll live. I'll pass. I'll be the best. If I survive.
"So what else have we got here..." He shouts while rummaging through a pile of guns. I pry my hand under the armour, feeling my chest. Yep, definitely cracked at least one rib. "Oooh this'll be good. Hehehe... Alright, what did we learn?"
"Uhh... listen? Count the shots?" I venture, pulling my hand out to check for blood. Oh good, at least all of that's still inside me.
"That's right! Step one done already, you are a quick learner." He says as he levels some new gun at me. I step back in shock, and throw up my hands.
"Shouldn't I be wearing a new vest for this?"
"Probably. Hehehehe!" He cackles as he fires exactly thirteen rounds.
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