FicWad

Gerard jumped down into the shell of an old subway station. Light streamed in and weeds tumbled over the sides where the streets had fallen in. The rails were broken and bent, twisted into random shapes in the tunnel.
Movement startled Gerard, something that he hadn’t experienced in a while. Nothing had moved suddenly enough to surprise him for years. He must’ve been tired.
His hand inched to the holster around his waist. He shuffled to the edge of the platform and looked down to the deeper section of the station from between the elevator railing and the wall.
A crash echoed through the huge hall and Gerard sped down the immobile staircase. It was dark below, but it meant nothing to him once again.
Something darted into the shadows behind him and he swiveled around, cocking the handgun and aiming it into the black.
A young man was behind one of the power boxes. He’d jammed himself into the corner away from Gerard, who stepped up to him, gun still outstretched. He looked cleaner than most of the human refugees; his hair was bright platinum and natural brown and freshly dyed, Gerard noted, and his random appearing punk clothing ripped in what seemed to be intentional areas. A teenager trying to keep up his way of life even when the world had gone to shit.
“What are you doing here?” Gerard barked, trying his best to look mildly intimidating, and succeeding. He really didn’t have a clue why there were suddenly so many humans appearing where he happened to be. There couldn’t be more than one hundred survivors on the entire Earth.
“I didn’t know you owned the place…,” the guy answered, sarcasm hiding behind the shock in his voice. “I’ve been staying down here for weeks.”
Gerard frowned; the man could actually speak. There weren’t many. However, Gerard kept his weapon steady. He could see the man’s fingers clenching around a revolver behind his back.
Gerard could have reacted faster. He didn’t even know why he didn’t, but the man barreled into him, knocking him over as shots resounded through the subway. Gerard pushed back, and was surprised to find it somewhat hard to fight the guy off. He was shoved back into the rails just as he pushed the stranger off and into the far wall.
There was wetness pooling inside him; he could feel it. Shocks raced through his body and he could feel his ribs crack from the impact of the cement floor. His lung was punctured.
“Oh fuck,” he gasped, sitting up against the wall and pressing his hand to his middle. He had to get out of there.
Sustaining major injuries that wouldn’t close up for days, such as internal bleeding, was awful in his opinion. It usually rendered him helpless for the whole time.
“Shit… shit, shit, shit…,” he groaned, clawing at the ground. “Fucking bastard…”
The man was staring at him, confusion obvious on his face. Gerard finally gave up, choosing to sit glaring at the man instead.
“Why the fuck did you have to do that?”
The guy just stared. Fucking stared like an idiot. He didn’t even run.
Gerard growled at him, throwing his gun at the man’s head, but he dodged it. Quickly. Too Quickly.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Gerard yelled. He pointed a finger at the gawking nuisance. “You. Need to run. Get out of here. Flee like the fucking pussy you should be.”
Everyone ran when their territory was invaded.
Gerard’s eyes narrowed and he stood, ignoring his bleeding torso. He jumped up onto the platform, grimacing, and grabbed the person by his shirt.
“Fucking GO!” Gerard roared, pushing the man back.
He ran.