Something in his mind just kept telling him that they were all dead. Everyone. Beef, Meaty, Old Man, Luco, Paul. And he gradually began to believe himself, whether or not they were ACTUALLY dead, he may never find out. But the lie gave him a sort of inner peace, he had nothing more to worry about than his own survival. He still missed all of them, but going back to the mountains wasn’t a viable option as of yet.
Through habit, Beans had constantly been patting his chest pocket for cigarettes. Of course there were none, he’d smoked them all in a rather short period of time. In his lack of attention to his surroundings, he’d walked straight into a tree. He recoiled back, rubbing his nose briefly and cursing under his breath. “God damn it…”
In his blind anger, Beans began punching the tree wildly as if it was the tree’s fault. “Aaaaaagh!”
Besides Beans’ shouting, the forest was completely silent. This fit of anger lasted about a minute before being rudely interrupted by a blow to the cranium. Beans buckled over, holding his head and groaning like an animal. “Uaaagh!”
“Quick, take his shit!” A large branch fell from the hands of one of his assailants next to Beans. The second of the two quickly leapt on Beans, planting their feet against the ground and yanking it from his shoulders.
The two began sprinting from whence they came. Beans rolled over, luckily when he’d walked into the tree, he dropping his shotgun onto where he would fall, in turn covering it with his body. He quickly pushed himself up and grabbed the Mossberg 500 and his helmet, weaving through the trees after the two.
“Somebody’s coming!” blared out from one of the two that was being chased. A male came into sight, raising a revolver.
Beans stopped short, falling on his side. He quickly crawled behind a tree as a shot was fired, upturning the dirt by Beans’ legs. “Give me back my God damn stuff!”
Another shot broke the brief silence, audibly making contact with the tree Beans was cowering behind. Beans quickly stood up, breathing deeply and scanning his surroundings. Trees. Beans reached up, patting his helmet to make sure it was on appropriately. He promptly began running for another nearby tree- another shot rattled through the trees. In an intense adrenaline rush, Beans tripped over a tree root and onto the grass behind a tree.
“I think you got him, ese!”
“Sh-should I go look?”
“Yeah man, bodies can’t do shit but stink up a place.”
Beans rolled onto his back, dragging his shotgun onto his abdomen with his hand still on the grip. As the steps neared Beans, they slowed. Beans blinked rapidly, and as a head darted from around the tree, he kept them open, staring directly up at the tree towering over him. “I don’t see any blood here!”
“Rapido, man, what if someone heard us!”
The male standing over Beans grumbled to himself, letting the revolver hang from his hand carelessly as he bent down to pull the shotgun from Beans’ grip. As soon as the hand wrapped around the barrel of the weapon, Beans lifted his leg, sending the sole of his combine boot into the man’s groin.
The looter fell on his side at Beans’ feet, dropping the revolver on Beans’ lap after bringing his hands to his groin immediately after the kick. Beans dropped his shotgun to the side, crawling up to the male and clutching his collar. “I got your boy here!”
He raised his fist, yanking the attacker’s collar upwards and sending a fist into the center of his face. After several more blows to the face, the attacker’s friends neared. Beans reached behind him and grabbed the S&W .357 revolver. He pulled the hammer back, aiming up at one of the others just short of them reaching Beans.
The barrel of the Smith & Wesson shifted between the two, one of the males began speaking, “Man, you’re fucked when our boys hear about this.”
“I don’t care about yours boys.” Upon finishing his sentence, he pulled the trigger. The hammer swung forward, slamming into the primer of the bullet. The attacker who’d spoken slipped back from taking the shot to the abdomen, staggering back for a few steps before falling on his back, screaming in pain. “Aaaaagh!”
Beans pulled the hammer of the revolver back again, pressing it against the forehead of the looter on the ground. “Tell your friend up there to get my stuff.”
A pair of brown eyes were crossed, staring at the revolver pressed against his head. He clenched his eyes shut, a glob of saliva spurting out onto his chin as he sobbed. “G-get his stuhuuuuhf…”
He broke into a steady screech, panting quickly. “They made me do iiiiiiit…”
Beans’ backpack thudded on the grass next to him. He eased on the trigger, letting the hammer fall forward without triggering the bullet. “Thank you.”
Beans pressed his palm against the tree beside him, clawing at it as he pulled himself up. He reached down, sliding his arms through his backpack straps. After placing his helmet back on his head and retrieving his Mossberg, he started off through the trees once more. The screaming and yelping of the men behind him disturbing the otherwise silent forest.
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