Guns, Death, and Vodka

K

Kisha

Guest
Original poster
She loaded the shotgun quietly, just in case the Ferbans were around the corner listening. After putting the gun in its holster on herleg, she stayed crouched, listening carefully. "Look's like we're clear", she mumbled to her white cat, "Fluffy".

The adorable kitty meowed in response. "I agree", Echo replied, taking her shotgun out of its holster, holding the fore-end in her left hand, and her right index finger hooked in the trigger area. "Ready?", she asked.

A growl from Fluffy sounded as if she was saying "I'm always ready."

Echo smiled, running from the wall she had her back on, into an alley where two Ferbans were waiting for her. "Oh shi-", she barely made out, as a lazer burned into the blacktop right beside her. "Not today, freaks", she muttered, before pumping the fore-end and shooting one of the giant war robots in the helmet.










Creaking metal groaned, and the robot stumbled back. Fluffy pounced on the wall, and bounded on the side of it, jumping again to land on the wounded hunk-o-junk.

A wide smile broke out on Echo's face as she shot the core of the other robot, which stumbled foward dangerously, and landed right next to her in a heap of smoke and gravel.

"Fluffy, c'mon", Echo called, walking away.

Fluffy jumped off of the Ferban, which now had several wires torn out of its head, and powered off.

"Good girl", Echo cooed, as the white furball followed her out to the streets.
 
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Stepping over broken TVs, microwaves, books, and all sorts of other junk, Echo talked to Fluffy as if she was a real person. Echo had become so lonely in the first few months after the failure of the Voyage operation, and when she found the poor kitty under a pile of encyclopaedias, Fluffy became a replacement for Echo's friends and family.

"And there was this ludicrous place called 'school' that all the kids had to go to. But I guess it was worth it, because we would get to see our friends every day. Did you have any friends, Fluffy?", Echo rambled, jumping over a pile of abandoned technologies.

The kitty responded with a light-hearted "meow", bounding around behind her.

"Of course you did!", Echo laughed, sitting down against a wall, opening her water bottle up. She took a swig, and then poured some on the ground, wich Fluffy licked bone-dry.

"Thirsty, huh?", she smiled, pouring more water down for the cat.
 
Nearly every day went like this. Occasionally, Echo would find a trinket or something of the like, and the day would go on, fighting Ferbans, hopping over heaps of junk, and going to sleep in a torn-up sleeping bag next to a barrel fire.

But soon, this would all change.

 
"Hey, guys! Over here!"

Echo woke up to the sound of people yapping happily. She instantly grabbed her pistol and pointed it at one of them, who was bandaged up and looked like he'd been throuhg the ninth circle of hell.

"Who are you?", she demanded, propped up on her elbow.

He, in turn, pulled out a gun much larger than a mere pistol.

Echo smiled, and reached for her shotgun, only to find that it wasn't there. "Where's my gun?"

"You mean this?", another person asked, pulling out her shotgun and pointing at Echo.

Echo dropped her gun, and stood up. Fluffy growled at the three strangers.

"Now, who are you?", the bandaged one asked.

"Echo. Survivor of the Voyage operation."

He holstered his gun, and held out a hand to shake. "Drake. This is Summer and Nick", he introduced, gesturing to the others.

Echo didn't shake his hand. "Can I have Malorie back?" When the girl gave a questioning look, she said, "The gun."

Summer gave it back to her. "What are you doing out here alone? I thought all the survivors were in groups."

"Apparrently not. Now, If you excuse me, I have things to do", Echo replied, walking over junk. Fluffy followed happily.
 

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