I leapt onto the launching rocket. Handle like extensions on its sides aided in that, but still left my lower half dangling within the propulsion blast. I pulled myself up as much as a could, but I accidentally shifted the angle of the rocket once I was able to position my feet on its skirt to avoid the flame. The shift caused me to lose my footing, and my body slammed into the side of the chassis. It was now pointing up and to the east, but sliding west, and I was losing my grip fast. It passed near the roof of one 12 story building, but not close enough to make the jump. The ground below was gaining distance fast. One last chance over the roof of another building. I let go. It was a long shot, but after a few rolls in gravel and dusting myself off, I notice I was only a foot or two from over shooting the roof and falling to my death. Not bad. The rocket engages fully, and fires a blast that would have surely fried me, and takes off into the clouds beyond my vision.
There isn’t much on this roof, so I head to the door to get down. It opens before me, and four people come pouring out. I’m handed an odd bottle opener, and informed in slurred speech it’ll help me get back onto the roof. Drunk teens, oblivious to the rocket, coming up here to drink. I pocket it, thank them sincerely, pass them and their cases of beer to the stairwell. Down the stairs and through a door, I’m on the 15th floor of an apartment building. Nice place. I scope it out in one direction, but at the end of a hall, instead of arriving at a doorway, there’s a room. Bed, tv, couch, well lived in, just, completely open to the hall. I look around for a bit, to make my way to the large windows overlooking the city. The area is a bit messy, some drawers a slightly open, clothes and things stern about. Lived in. I open the blinds to look out, and as the light begins to hit my face, I hear a voice behind me, I release the curtain closed, and face the sound. A man asks what I’m doing in his place; I tell him I don’t really know, it’s an odd thing, to have a place so open. He tells me it’s really none of my business, and that it’s best if I just leave. He’s dressed summer slovenly, sandals, an old t-shirt from some exotic vacation, balding, portly, and unshaven. He walks me to the elevator area. We hear the windows echo from down the hall as they shatter. He tosses me into a darkened room, and closes the door, running towards the noise. I hear an explosion before the window of the room I’m in is shattered open as well. A tall man wearing a business suit casually steps in, detaching himself from a harness. In the new light, I can see the barrel of a gun sticking out of a bottom drawer in this room. Both rooms had the exact same furnishings. The door swings open, it’s the man from before. He tells me to get grab the gun and start firing. Not knowing what else to do, this seems like the best option. I lunge forward, grab it, and roll backwards. On my back and still disoriented, I take a few shots at the man in the suit. noticeably hitting him only once of 4 shots with what I can only call some sort of automatic shotgun, I start scooting backwards to the door, he walks through my continuing fire unflinching, and takes hold of my left kneecap, and begins to dislocate it beneath the skin. He smiles. I try to lift the gun, but he kicks it out of my hand. I’m able to get it in the general direction of the other man, who I notice cannot pick it up, for his fingers are broken and mangled, bleeding badly. The man in the suit finishes tearing my patella from ligament and tendon. Once he tears it out of my flesh, he tosses it on me. He then picks up the automatic shotgun, and shoots the other man to death.
