He didn't think of himself as Boone. He didn't think of himself at all. One moment he lay quietly on a hospital bed, in a space of nothingness, brain and thoughts barely functioning. The next, he came awake, thoughts filtering across his brain as synapses fired. Boone sat up, eyes blinking, seeing but not seeing.
Swinging his legs off of the bed, he moved with simple ease for a man who'd been limp and motionless and unresponsive for days. The cold of the floor did not bother him.
He walked to the door, opened it.
A figure stepped into his vision. It spoke, but Boone didn't process the words. He moved, acted. With skill and ease, as though he'd done so all his life, he attacked the figure and in a few moments it was on the floor. Dead or unconscious, Boone didn't know.
Boone didn't care.
He kept the cane.
Walked into the office and directly to a file cabinet. Opened the third drawer. Reached in the back and removed the locked box. Dialed the combination. Removed the gun and ammo. Loaded the clip. The position of his body and the shadow of the drawer blocked his every move from the security camera.
If there had been a camera on this room, but Boone didn't know that.
Boone had a purpose, a greater purpose and it was about to be fulfilled.
He followed the sound of voices. Walked into the room with voices that smelled of food, raised the gun and promptly began squeezing the trigger.
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timeasmymeasure
[Boone] Triggered (open tag)
Date: 2006-08-28 01:22 am (UTC)Boone awoke.
He didn't think of himself as Boone. He didn't think of himself at all. One moment he lay quietly on a hospital bed, in a space of nothingness, brain and thoughts barely functioning. The next, he came awake, thoughts filtering across his brain as synapses fired. Boone sat up, eyes blinking, seeing but not seeing.
Swinging his legs off of the bed, he moved with simple ease for a man who'd been limp and motionless and unresponsive for days. The cold of the floor did not bother him.
He walked to the door, opened it.
A figure stepped into his vision. It spoke, but Boone didn't process the words. He moved, acted. With skill and ease, as though he'd done so all his life, he attacked the figure and in a few moments it was on the floor. Dead or unconscious, Boone didn't know.
Boone didn't care.
He kept the cane.
Walked into the office and directly to a file cabinet. Opened the third drawer. Reached in the back and removed the locked box. Dialed the combination. Removed the gun and ammo. Loaded the clip. The position of his body and the shadow of the drawer blocked his every move from the security camera.
If there had been a camera on this room, but Boone didn't know that.
Boone had a purpose, a greater purpose and it was about to be fulfilled.
He followed the sound of voices. Walked into the room with voices that smelled of food, raised the gun and promptly began squeezing the trigger.