Three Days Later

Michael had departed Arizona and made it and was en route home. He had been driving for a couple hours in circles in his SUV when he noticed that he had been followed by the same set of headlights. He had detoured through two cities, changed directions on the autobahn twice and still the same vehicle travelled behind him. That's a mistake little guy.

Grabbing a USP40 from under his seat, he pulled to the side of the road and put on his emergency flashers as if something were potentially wrong with his vehicle. Not his go-to caliber, but it's what he had.

As he pulled over, the tailing vehicle pulled over behind him. He knew this was gonna get bad. It was dark outside, but his weapon had tritium sights. He was sure that this was about to get ugly. Sure enough, he was right.

Shots struck his back window, nothing got through the ballistic windshield but there was a large ballistic suited man dismounting the vehicle. As that man got out and reached back in for something, Michael threw his vehicle in reverse and slammed back as hard as he could into the front of the car. Sure enough, his reinforced bumper crushed the front bumper and punctured the radiator. This was good for disabling the vehicle to prevent a chase, but this didn't get him far enough from the large padded man who had brought out a sledgehammer and had enough momentum to swing it at Michaels door. The impact put a large break in the window and door, though it hadn't given way yet, he was certain that a little more effort would break the door or the window and render him vulnerable to incoming fire.

Michael put it back in drive and tried to pull away, before the hammer hit the window again. This caused a gap in the doorjamb. He shoved his pistol in it and opened fire as he pulled away, aiming for the neck of the padded suit. After several hits in nearly the same spot, the large man fell down clutching his neck. Blood started to soak the suit quickly. got that artery, did I?

As he continued to gain forward momentum, the damaged car gave chase. He was certain he had broken that thing, which meant that if they were stupid enough to chase him down the road in an open gun battle, their engine would overheat soon. He also had no intent to leave an attacker alive.

Turning his vehicle 45 degrees to the left, he stopped and reloaded his weapon. Aiming through the gap in his door, he shot the driver of the vehicle. As he did this, the back door on the drivers side flew open. A man stood up and quickly aimed a lightweight belt fed weapon and immediately opened up on Michael. This man was unusually efficient with his shots, able to keep it aimed pretty close to the gap in the door. Michael ducked down to keep from getting hit as rounds barely missed his head. After a brief moment, the weapon stopped firing. Michael peeked back up and fired two shots at the shooter who had moved about four meters to the side as he grabbed the charging handle on the side and had already re-racked it and was aiming again for the hole in the door. Michael quickly fired off three more shots, this time hitting the shooter in the neck, face and forehead. The shooter stood still as his arms slumped down. He fell to his knees, even though he had just been shot in three individually fatal points, he seemed to still look intently at Michael before falling sideways, finally being all the way dead.

What the fuck is this?

Michael didn't have time to wonder much about anything before another man jumped down from on top of his vehicle. This man reached for the gap and ripped the door wide open. By this time, Michael had already unfastened his seatbelt and was poised to disembark. As the door flew open, this attacker fired shots from a large revolver that he tried to press against Michaels head. He was too quick to catch the shots, but the concussion and flash from the cylinder gap still hurt. Eventually the shooter managed to get lucky and get a flesh shot on his left arm.

Unphased by this injury, Michael struck the gun hard enough to break the wheel from the frame. Following this, Michael moved to strike the mans chest. He landed his hit, but felt a ceramic plate crunch under his hand. He moved his hand to slap away an incoming strike, then had to jump back to avoid a kick.

The man drew a knife from his belt. Michael met this escalation with his own knife, a fixed karambit that he kept in his belt. The man leapt forward quicker than Michael was used to. A quick move to the side as he palmed the fist of the attackers knife hand, Michael swiped his karambit that he had gripped like an ice pick towards the attackers other arm. Successful slice of flesh, but he too was unphased by such an injury.

The attacker brought his strong arm back to try and swing it full force at Michaels neck. Michael met this motion by gripping his wrist and gripping enough to fracture the bones in his forearm. As he crushed the wrist and stabbed the hand, the attacker had no intention of losing this fight. He let go of the knife, only to catch it in what should have been an already disabled weak hand. He used this split second window to thrust the knife into the left side of Michaels chest.

Feeling the knife start to pierce his chest, Michael twisted his body enough to keep it from hitting anything too vital. It still went in an inch, and cut through flesh on its way out. It was guided out by his rib, which was somehow strong enough to not be cut up by this blade.

Leaving his Karambit in his attackers hand, Michael quickly grabbed the knife and turned it back towards him. He began shoving his entire body toward this man. As he did so, he managed to step on the attackers food and stumble him into a backward fall. With how he had the knife positioned, he forced his entire body weight and strength behind the knife. His attacker was unable to keep the knife out of his heart as Michael quickly pushed it in.

Yanking the knife back out and stabbing the man repeatedly in the chest to ensure he was down, Michael started to feel dizzy. He missed everything vital but I'm still bleeding. He got up and reentered his vehicle, grabbing a tourniquet and tying it high on his left arm. His next step was to grab tape and gauze, affixing it to his chest and the wound on his arm. Certain that he had stopped the bleeding, he loosened the windlass by one half turn before ripping his shirt off and hiding it under his passenger seat. He pulled another shirt from his carryon bag, and after putting it on dug a jacket out of the trunk space. Once he had changed, he grabbed up his weapon and reloaded it. Pulling the door shut, he was relieved to find that it still latched shut.

He drove home quickly, being sure to be long gone before the Polizei could arrive. He couldn't drive too fast as it was getting harder to focus on the road. Once he got to his driveway, he drove straight in, not having the focus to drive backwards into the garage.

As he got out of the vehicle, he stumbled and noticed that he was having difficulty walking. As he made his way into the house, thoughts of ponder and critical question scattered through his mind in a disorganized and frantic manner, how the fuck, this is painful, did I contain the blood? A tourniquet securely tied on his left arm, his breathing labored, he walked down the hallway to the basement door. He stopped. He looked to the floor which was approaching fast. But the floor wasn’t moving, he was falling. One clear thought formed before he blacked out.

How did I let this happen?