Pat Dooley
Gary
“Holy shit!”
“Is that--?”
“No WAY!”
Gary looked down at the body at his feet. He’d heard the gunfire. He knew this was it. He knew he was dead. He knew that everyone else in The Skin was dead. He was just going to be another statistic in the annals of the unending war between the--
PEW!
As he was contemplating his own mortality, somebody came into the hall, scaring the piss out of him, and he panicked and shot.
And he killed Lem Arciv.
Killed him dead.
Right in the face.
The Cells started to gather around him. Somebody must have said something into a comm device because the alarms stopped. It was so much quieter without that BWOMP! BWOMP! BWOMP! that word spread fast. They could all hear themselves think, and the murmurs traveled the chambers of The Heart faster than anyone could have imagined.
Suddenly, the disbelief turned into nervous laughter. The nervous laughter turned into applause. The applause turned into cheers. It was deafening. Soon, the cheers turned to one question:
“Who did it? Who is our hero?”
Okay, that’s two questions.
The chaos of the moment was indescribable. Literally so. I could try to describe it, but I can’t.