My Inky Folios: The Mysterious Message

Hi guys! Here's my third My Inky Folios post. Another class assignment - word limit, time limit and all - and the instructions given to us: Write a story based on a mysterious message. I tried experimenting with writing in the present tense, like the many dystopian books I'm reading these days, but it was really new for me and I had a little trouble adapting. Here's what I came up with. Your feedback is more than welcome! I apologise for any typos or grammatical errors.

The Mysterious Message

As soon as I look back, I know we are all going to die.

The street behind us is teeming with Marckus's men, and I feel my heart beating a violent tattoo against my chest as I estimate their number: about sixty of them against six of us, out of which only Keidan, Maia and I are experienced fighters. We are not going to reach the Onyx alive. I can feel it in my pulse. I can see it in front of my eyes: Caty, the youngest of us, is faltering in her steps. Her thigh has been shot by a bullet. 

This is all my fault, I think, as I pump my legs harder, as we race blindly down the dim street. It is me who has led us into this ambush. The six of us were safely hidden inside the abandoned hospital. We had to stay there until our seniors would come rescue us. Keidan, Maia and I had very simple instructions for a potentially deadly job: rescue the Bennington siblings from Marckus and his cronies and keep them hidden until backup would arrive. We managed to do do that, and with the siblings, took sanctuary in a hospital. We had to keep off the streets; this is a ghost town - all its residents fled when the bombing started - so we would be easy to spot outside.

But this morning, I woke to an enigmatic message scrawled on a piece of old newspaper that I found at the hospital's entrance:

"The Onyx will serve you well."

I showed the message to Keidan and Maia, who immediately rejected it as a blatant attempt by Marckus to lure us out of our hiding place. He wants the Bennington siblings - Caty, Alishia, and Mira - as subjects for his cruel experiments. The other three of us were dispensable. 

Keidan and Maia semed to hesitate when I pointed out that had Marckus been the writer of the message, he would have torn down the hospital and kidnapped the siblings easily. Why ramp up the drama with a mysterious message?

And finally, I managed to convince them. I was sure Marckus's men were sweeping the town, searching fro us, and I had no intention of being found meagre and helpless. So I took action, and we crept out into the streets, our destination being the magnificent Onyx Plaza a few blocks away.

But we were ambushed. We had hardly conquered half a block when the silent, surreal atmosphere was shattered by the sound of gunshots. Bullets peppered the street, one hit Caty who screamed out in pain, and I realised that Marckus's men had found us, and were on our heels.

With a simple shout of "Run!", we were galloping through alleys and across main roads, but we never could shake them off.

They will catch us. And I will be responsible.

Suddenly, my shoulder feels on fire. Before I know it, my shirt is soaked with blood. A bullet to my shoulder.

Stifling the overwhelming urge to cry out in pain, I thunder on. I cannot waste a moment inspecting the damage to my shoulder. Every second counts. Ofcourse, I know I will not live to tell the tale, nor will Keidan or Maia or the siblings, but deep inside, beneath all the anger, pain, and regret, there is hope. There may be hope.

There is always hope.

The Onyx suddenly looms ahead of us: a glittering building whose roof tickles the sky. And what I see at the grand, gabled entrance makes me come to a stuttering halt.

A dozen or more men and women are standing on the wide marbled steps, their guns drawn and pointing at us. No, not at us - at the soldiers on our tails. On Marckus's men.

I push the siblings sideways, out of the line of fire and Keidan and Maia follow. As I tumble into the gravel at the foot of the steps, I watch with wonder.

The people at the entrance open fire at our pursuers. I hear their cries of agony and watch them fall to the ground. They are no match for the Onyx gunfighters. They probably were not even expecting such strong opposition.

As the last man falls down, his gun skittering away, I notice the gazes of the Onyx soldiers turn to us, all huddled together at the side. And I feel not a hint of suspicion, not a hint of apprehension, as I meet their eyes. I know they are friends

I know we are now safe.