River half-reaches for the first doorknob, and then spins away without touching it. Her eyes are narrowed, intent and fierce.
Setting her back to the wood instead, she fires: eleven shots (guns roaring in overlapping thunder, and the cries and gurgles of the ones who die with bullets in face and throat and spine) and then a twelfth, and then her fingers blurring to reload, reload fast before she has to grab for her sword again instead and that's soon--
Her head snaps up and she jerks sideways, but it's River who gasps this time, at the sudden meaty thud and the wickedly barbed arrow protruding from her bicep.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-02-13 05:30 am (UTC)Setting her back to the wood instead, she fires: eleven shots (guns roaring in overlapping thunder, and the cries and gurgles of the ones who die with bullets in face and throat and spine) and then a twelfth, and then her fingers blurring to reload, reload fast before she has to grab for her sword again instead and that's soon--
Her head snaps up and she jerks sideways, but it's River who gasps this time, at the sudden meaty thud and the wickedly barbed arrow protruding from her bicep.