Last Woman Standing: Chapter 3

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[{"type":"txt","id":"rich_1513847218295","data":"\"Hey mom, why are some people bad?\" asked my son, as we turned the TV off, away from reports of secret police knocking on people's doors and the media happily supporting the destruction of our fundamental rights. <\/i><\/p>I didn't know how to answer this question. How do you tell a 7-year old that men with power and privilege decide to play games with the lives of everyone else and there was nothing people like us could do about it. What would a 7-year old understand about power and privilege when he learns every day at school that everyone was born equal and is shielded by the discrimination anyone who doesn't look like him, doesn't share his skin tone, goes through? <\/i><\/p>\"Because,\" I began, only to find that I couldn't find the words to say anything, I was tired of standing up for rights, \"because there are people who think that doing bad things to good people will ultimately result in a better world.\" <\/i><\/p>\"Does it?\" he asks, his eyes round as coins. <\/i><\/p>\"No,\" it was my husband, from across the room, \"It does not, son.\" <\/i><\/p>I look at the two of them before continuing, \"One must never hate someone for how they were born, because this is something we cannot choose. Those who do are bad and we must learn to protect ourselves from them.\" <\/i><\/p>My son nodded. <\/i><\/p>Creak...<\/p>I was hiding behind a desk that I had upturned in the gunfight that ensued when an enterprising individual, I'm sure, decided to take pot shots at me just as soon as I hand landed. Not only did it attract the attention of a group nearby, it seemed this group had automatic weapons. I chanced upon a grenade and threw it at the entrance hall, near the door where I saw the men pouring through. <\/p>There was silence and then there was the creak. <\/p>Unmistakable footsteps doing a terrible job at sneaking up the stairs. I had my ear to the floorboards and heard the thump of a pair of heavy boots as they carefully climbed the stairs, it would only be a matter of seconds before he would be in the same room as I was. It was now or never. No more hiding. <\/p>I did my best to run silently to the door, towards the sound of footsteps and hid behind the door, just at the edge of its opening. I barely had time to adjust when the man rushed through, checking his corners. He spotted me right away, but I was ready. Like clockwork, my left palm pushed the barrel of his SCAR-H away from me while with the right, I pulled back and sank a knife in his throat. <\/p>Blood gushed down my hand as the weight of his limp body fell on the knife. I pulled it out, picked up the SCAR, checked ammo and walked around the house. The grenade had taken out 2 people, with the third one lying dead upstairs. If I was to survive this island, I had to make life or death decisions constantly. <\/p>The PDA given to us showed me that the effective playable area was closing in and that I had 10 minutes to gather supplies and rush to the nearest safe playable zone at the earliest. Trying not to panic, I rushed through the house to find the three men who had come to shoot my first victim and me down to have tons of 7.62x51 NATO rounds for the SCAR-H I'd found, two rifle scopes, one that magnified 4x and one 2x, and a reflex sight for quick close quarters engagement, although I'd already made up my mind to use the knife for that fight. <\/p>When in close quarters, always bring a knife to a gunfight. <\/p>I also found a secondary weapon, a Submachine Gun named UMP-9 that used 9mm rounds, same as my pistol. In effect, it would be a pistol with a much higher rate of fire and greater recoil control, all of which I needed right now. The body near the door carried a backpack, some food, medicines and first aid kit. I put on their camo suits, bag, took their guns, pointed myself north and started moving. <\/p>It was time to leave. <\/p>It was time to survive. <\/p> <\/p>"}]

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