Snake glanced at the humming circle of blackbellies. The blood dripping down his arm was only slightly less annoying than they were but he knew they smelled the blood. Blood made them itch to kill. They shifted around him before tightening the grips on their rifles. Plissken knew at any second one crazy finger could twitch and he'd take another bullet. Only with these bastards it would be an emptying of all the magazines.
For a moment his mind flashed back to Taylor. His mangled arm sliding gore on the Hummer station floor. The same tension had been in the blackbellies then. That deep frown returned to Plissken's expression though he was ignoring the group that had him surrounded.
"Thought you could run forever Plissken?"
Snake glanced up slowly to see a faceless black shield that was addressing him. The cowards almost never let him see who they were. Probably afraid of his retribution was all Plissken could think. Shifting anxiously in the circle a rifle muzzle shoved him as a reminder to stay still.
"Now you're trapped."
Snake glanced over his shoulder and around the circle. He barely contained the cynical laugh. "Thanks for pointing out the obvious."
"This isn't funny Plissken. You're wanted for….."
Snake cut him off. "Snake."
The word came cool and smooth as serpent skin with nearly the same deadly intent.
"What did you say?"
"Call me Snake." Plissken watched the empty face shield. In his mind he imagined that maybe staring at the mirrored surface long enough would reveal the man behind it.
"Shut him up."
Snake knew that command. It was like telling a dog to get someone. His eye couldn't scan fast enough to catch the blow. The world went white-hot orange when the rifle butt crashed into the back of his head. Plissken went down but caught himself before completely smashing into the concrete. Things went black briefly but the pain ripping through his bad eye wouldn't even give him the relief of unconsciousness.
Plissken didn't want to. A hard steel-toed kick to the side sent him into more legs that booted him back to the center. That was enough to get him up no matter how much his head throbbed with fiery pain. Pulling himself up he once more faced his reflection in the helmet visor. There was blood on his neck. He assumed they hit him harder than he thought. One more concussion was worth little more than a disgusted groan.
Momentarily, Snake contemplated on the origin of the groan once his hearing settled back on the speaker. The list of crimes and entanglements was as groan worthy as the pain. More came as Snake watched the blackbellies itching for his blood. Still there was always a way out. Plissken knew it even if he couldn't deduce the course of action with the pain behind his eye forcing a blinding migraine into his brain. Other thoughts that he didn't want seemed to abound.
As he stood ignoring how near death he was, Plissken could only think of the black visors. Crazies were light sensitive. With the rumors that gas crazy veterans were used in the police force Plissken could only come with one answer. He shivered involuntarily. Nothing unnerved and terrified him like the Crazies. The idea of putting an automatic weapon in their hands was something beyond the conceivable limits of horror.
"Plissken. Are you listening?"
He looked back up at the visor obscured cop curiously. He hadn't been paying attention at all this time. Plissken blamed it on the feeling of impending death on someone's account.
"Aren't you afraid?"
Snake's head instantly cocked in curiosity. That had to be the oddest question he'd been asked.
"Of what?" The words were cool and calm despite his frantic search for any possible escape.
"The order to shoot?"
The blackbellies all about jumped at those words. Snake braced himself for the pain but no triggers pulled.
"You're going to die."
"We all do." Plissken replied revealing just how disinterested he was in this conversation. Another rifle butt came down between his shoulder blades from behind. His wind let go but he started moving. Gasping he fought down the pain that took his breath away. The hallways in all the new buildings went on forever in long straight corridors. That too had Plissken's attention. His curiosity forced him to wonder why.
Guards stepped from in front of him just in time for Plissken to catch the last movement of a Hummer station elevator opening. Another blow shoved him inside with three guards packed in around him. Snake hated being crushed so close to the filth and stink of the police. Doors closed and the elevator lurched into motion.
In a blur Plissken's mind was made up. The first to gain his wrath stood before him. Blood on the rifle butt meant one thing. Snake showed no mercy when his hands flashed out wrenching the blackbelly's neck to a snap before the other two could move. He buried his toe spikes into the shins of the next. His companion aimed in the close quarters but missed and shot his buddy much to Plissken's delight. The obsession with silencing areas that made up the station was a godsend. Not a soul heard the shots fired as Plissken wrestled for the remaining gun.
When the reluctance to hand over the weapons was obvious so Plissken went to plan B. In one swift collision of forehead to nose the final guard slumped. Paranoia was running high as the lighted numbers rolled on. The climb to the surface seemed agonizingly slow. He could swear as he stepped out into the brilliant sun of the Colorado desert that he was about to be caught. Snake inched into the sunlight.
Nothing. No one. The place was empty. Not a blackbelly to be seen. Snake took a handgun from the guard, shooting out the elevator box and the controls before bolting. Snake ran toward the Rocky Mountain foothills. It was more than a day's run but with heat on his ass Snake figured that would be half the time.