Chapter Ten

-Hinata's POV-

My lungs burnt as I sprinted through an abandoned street, already a few blocks away from the asylum. The cold winter air stung my face as the wind howled around me.

I had to slide out of my coat and make a break for it to avoid being captured or killed or whatever that odd man planned to do. He wasn't human; he couldn't be. I'd stabbed him in the stomach with my boxcutter, and he hadn't flinched.

My grip tightened around the blood-covered item clutched in my hand. I couldn't leave it behind because I needed a weapon to defend myself, so I chose a knife over a winter coat.

A few bullets ricocheted off the pavement near my feet, and I looked back to see the same man chasing me steadily despite the heavily bleeding wound on his abdomen. The blood was running down his front all the way to his shoes. There was so much of it that I couldn't understand how he was still upright.

I turned to face forward again, only for a wild heat to erupt in my shoulder and throw me to the ground. He'd landed a shot. A shocked cry slid past my lips, and I struggled back to my feet to resume running, only for an overbearing weight to take me to the ground. The side of my face scraped against the pavement as a large hand shoved my hair out of the way so the man could put his weight on my head.

The pain would've been bearable two months ago, but today it wasn't. Tears rose as I struggled beneath him, but it was useless. My body, as it currently was, wasn't capable of the strength I needed to escape. Images of Hanabi and my friends flashed before my eyes before I squeezed them shut in anticipation for this odd person to land the killing blow. To my complete and utter shock, though, his body fell lifelessly on top of mine in the next instant.

I gasped for breath as I weakly pulled myself out from under him and rolled onto my back to catch my breath. For a moment there, I might've passed out, but I also might not have; I couldn't be sure. Either way, I somehow got myself upright and searched my now-dead attacker's body. His gun had two bullets left in the chamber, so I took it. Then I tried to get the hoodie off of him but didn't have the strength.

My injuries from breaking that mirror had reopened, and the glass shards from the explosion probably were, too. I couldn't see them, but I could definitely feel it. Worst of all was the heavily bleeding bullet wound on the back of my shoulder. If it'd been on the front of my body, I could've removed the bullet and tried to patch it up, but it wasn't, and I wasn't sure what I would do to remedy the situation.

As I searched his pants pockets for maybe another round of ammo or something, gunshots started sounding nearby and startled me to my feet. I saw the dead man's partner sprinting towards me with his gun raised and the backpack on his back bouncing with each step. When I activated my byakugan and saw the grenade earlier, I saw many more inside that bag. This man was more dangerous than the first one.

My limbs hurt from all the sudden exercise, but I forced my legs to move, and the chase resumed. Any time I paused to try and catch a breath, gunshots would sound behind me, and the bullets would come incredibly close to landing. I was lucky these men weren't better shots, or I would've been dead already.

Since my right shoulder had been injured, I couldn't lift my dominant hand steadily enough to return fire. Having only two bullets, I didn't want to waste them on a shot I wasn't a hundred percent sure would hit.

My lungs soon hurt to the point that it was hard to stay upright, and I had no choice but to duck into an abandoned house and look for a place to hide. My breaths were loud and ragged as I held an arm across my torso to try and ease the ache. I moved furniture against the door with trembling hands to create a barricade. After a couple minutes, I heard the man try to open it and fail.

So I rushed through the house, searching for the back entrance to verify it was locked. It wasn't, but I also didn't see the man around, so I quickly ran outside and hurried to the next house over, locking the previous house's door so the man would think I was still inside.

My brow furrowed with desperation as I felt a horrible, familiar sensation starting to rise about my body. I was about to faint from physical exhaustion, blood loss, or both; I wasn't sure. All I knew was I had to find a safe hiding spot fast, or all of this would have been for nothing. The moment the door to the house closed behind me, I fell into a shivering heap on the floor. The last thing I heard before passing out was someone whispering in a hushed voice, but I couldn't distinguish what they were saying.

What felt like a blink of an eye passed, and suddenly I was awake again, but I didn't recognize my surroundings. When I looked down, my hand was still bleeding, and it felt like the wounds on my back were also still open. I must have fainted from exhaustion rather than blood loss, or I wouldn't have woken back up. I think my body was underneath something, a bed, and I couldn't move very easily because of how cramped the space was.

When I tried to wiggle out from under it, someone grabbed my arm to keep me still, and I froze. Footsteps could be heard somewhere nearby. The air smelled like something along the lines of burning rubber. My eyes widened in horror as a large, booted set of feet stopped about a yard from where I was hiding, and I closed my mouth to keep myself quiet. They walked around the room, searching for me, before leaving again.

I didn't dare move a muscle, even after the sound of the door downstairs met my ears. Instead, I waited an extra few minutes before wincing and painfully turning my body to look at whoever was holding my arm so tightly. It was a thin teenage girl with dark hair and brown eyes. She looked malnourished, like me, and her clothes were dirty.

We silently stared at one another as we waited another few moments before leaving the hiding spot. I had to grab onto the bedpost to hoist myself upright, gasping in pain. "W-Who are you?" It was hard to talk through the throbbing aches.

The girl shook her head and pointed at her mouth.

"You can't talk?"

She nodded. My brow furrowed, and I rested my good hand on my knee as I held myself up, "Thank you for saving me. I owe you my life."

She smiled but shook her head again as if to say it wasn't a big deal. The girl helped me downstairs and brought me a glass of water, which I gulped down greedily. It quelled the burning in my throat and made it easier for me to speak. After sneakily peeking out of the windows to see if that man was still around and not seeing anything, she came to sit with me on the family room floor. The place seemed to have been ransacked because there was no food or blankets.

"Do you have a first aid kit? Even a roll of gauze would help."

The girl shook her head with a sad look. She seemed to feel guilty. I nodded, giving her as best a smile as possible in my condition, "That's alright. It's not your fault."

Judging by the angle of the sunlight coming in through the windows, it was around twelve or maybe one in the afternoon. Time flies when you're running for your life.

I opened my mouth to ask if she was from around here, but out of the eye's corner, I noticed the man from before peering through the tiny bit of window that wasn't blocked above the sink in the kitchen. I struggled and tried to get back to my feet, crying in pain, "H-He's here! You need to run!"

The girl swiftly turned to see the man, but it was too late. As if in slow motion, he shot through the window, and the bullet hit the center of her chest. Shattered glass sprayed about the room. I let out a strangled sound of despair and dove to catch the girl's body before it could hit the ground. It didn't matter, though, because she was already gone.

The man pointed the gun at me, and I winced when he pulled the trigger but reopened my eyes when I heard a clicking noise instead of a gunshot. He was out of bullets! With one last apologetic glance at the poor girl's face, I ran for cover. For some reason, God gave me a second chance just now.

The doors were already barricaded, and the windows big enough for him to crawl through had wood nailed over them; I'd seen that when I came downstairs. If the girl who'd saved me had done all of this preparation, she was smart and fast. I needed to find a good spot where he wouldn't be able to see me from any windows, and then It would just be a waiting game.

My friends would arrive and be able to follow the blood trail I unintentionally left. It would lead them here, and they'll kill the man and save me before I bleed out. I set my mouth in a firm line and nodded reassuringly to myself. All I have to do is hold on long enough for that to happen.

That's what I thought until the burning rubber smell from earlier met my nose again, and I looked around the corner to see the man had lit the piece of wood blocking the kitchen window on fire, the one he'd broken the glass of when he shot my dead savior.

My brow furrowed. When will I be able to catch a break? It's been struggle after struggle ever since I woke up from that coma.

With a shake of my head, I struggled unsteadily to my feet and made it to the kitchen. The plumbing was still working here, somehow, and I turned the kitchen sink on before grabbing the dishhose and spraying at the quickly growing flame. It wasn't strong enough. Soon, the curtains were aflame, and smoke started thickening the air.

I covered my mouth and nose with a hand, coughing as I tripped and stumbled over to the front door. It was barricaded, and I didn't have the strength to move a single piece of furniture in my way. So then I made my way upstairs with desperate tears in my eyes. The flames followed my steps up the staircase. It was becoming unbearably hot, and I was drenched with sweat as I hurried to the large window in the hall, only for it to be sealed shut.

My eyes darted around frantically for something to break it with, but it became clear that I was cornered by the flames. There was nowhere left to go.

I couldn't properly think about anything except survival as I took a few steps back before running at the window with as much force as possible. I don't know if I managed to break it because my body immediately gave out, and all I could see was black.