The House Part 36

Chapter Two in which Marc gets into a gun fight and kills a few people
Marc woke up laying flat on his back in a snow bank.
“What was that all about?” He said, standing up and rubbing his head, “Guys? Guys?” He looked around. He was alone, the only living person visible as far as the eye could see. Marc looked down at his body and was shocked to see that he was wearing a leather jacket over a shirt for some scary looking music group that hc had never heard of. He reached up to scratch his head and his arm bumped his right ear. There was something metal in it.
Marc felt his other ear and there was something metal in that one as well. He was very confused. He looked down at his body again and saw that he was wearing a belt with a holster attached to it. In the holster was a pistol. Marc drew it and realized that it looked almost identical to Brien's pistol. The only thing different was that Marc's gun didn't have the name plates. Other than that the two guns were exactly the same.
“Hey you,” Someone yelled angrily at Marc, “What in blazes do you think you are doing?” Marc looked up and saw that a man wearing a blue uniform and a silver badge was pointing one hand towards Marc while his other hand was drawing a gun. The man, who Marc realized was probably a police officer, looked very angry and Marc thought that the man might actually shoot him . Marc quickly put the gun back in his holster and raised his hands.
“Officer,” He said calmly, surely this was just a misunderstanding. The policeman probably just freaked when he saw Marc with the gun, “I think there has been a slight misunderstanding. You see I...”
Bang!
The policeman fired his gun at Marc. Luckily for Marc, the policeman had spent the evening drinking in Rosmerta's Tavern with some of his law enforcement buddies and thus was not the shot that he normally would be. The bullet whistled past Marc's left shoulder.
Marc dove to the ground behind the snow back. He jumped up and took cover behind a tree. Marc drew his pistol and waited. He didn't think that shooting a cop would be a good way to begin his time in this place. Maybe the man would just walk off. Marc waited on tender hooks, trying to breath as lightly as possible, tightening his grip on the pistol's handle until his knuckles were white. No sound came for a long while and just as Marc was about to come out from behind his tree he heard a crunch in the snow.
Marc stood closer to the tree and squeezed his gun tighter. Unfortunately instead of squeezing the handle Marc's fingers squeezed very hard on the pistol's trigger.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
The pistol fired three times. Marc swore quietly and fell to the ground. He rolled down the small hill that was behind the tree and came to rest face down in a snow bank. He crawled up the snow bank so that he could see what was going on. A different man, also wearing the blue uniform, was standing by the tree that Marc had just rolled away from. The man was holding a small pistol. He saw Marc and began to shoot. Marc dropped back below the snow bank as the bullets ripped into it.
Marc sighed and resigned himself to the fact that he would have to kill the police officer. He stood up and began to shoot. The police officer returned fire but Marc had a fair amount of cover and the police officer had none. Marc only had to fire two shots.
The police officer screamed and fell to the ground his blood seeping into the snow, turning it from white to red.
Marc sighed and walked over to the body.
“Cop killer!” Someone yelled at Marc, “Cop Killer!”
Marc looked up and saw an old woman wearing multiple layers of raggedy clothes pointing a long crooked finger at Marc. He sighed again and shot the woman in the chest. She died instantly and fell to the ground, blood pouring down the front of her dress.
“What's going on?” A man asked coming over the hill, “I just heard a gun shot, Mom?” As soon as Marc could see him, he shot him in the chest. The man fell to ground and began to roll down the hill leaving a bloody trail in the snow behind him . He came to rest about a foot from Marc. He raise his head to look at him and Marc shoot him again, this time in the throat. The man dropped his head and was still.
Marc looked down the man's body and laughed a humorless laugh.
“Man,” He said to himself, “Today isn't a great day for my moral fiber is it? I've shot a policeman, an old woman, and a totally innocent man.” He shook his head and reloaded his gun. He closed it, cocked it, and replaced the gun in its holster. He brushed the snow off his leather jacket and walked back up the hill.