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A little thing you should know about me: I'm a fairly accurate shooter. I won't be setting any world records, but training in tactical shooting has made me pretty damn good, especially in odd situation like this one. That's why of the two rounds I fired, both found their mark, right in the torso of the nearest guy chasing me. That gave me an extra ten yards or so, another five to ten if the guy behind him ran for cover in case I had another shot.

Still not enough.

I turned and sprinted for the river. It wasn't until I reached it the opposite bank, a ten meter swim, that I realized something was wrong. I should have been caught. Those men were trained professionals, and as the job required also pretty good athletes. I was a 5' 6" girl with more of a pension for math and science then athletics, not that I was out of shape. Still, there was not way I had shot and possibly killed three of them and outrun the....

I SHOT three of them. He was looking out for his friends.

What the hell was wrong with me. Of course the fourth guy had stopped. I put two rounds in one of his friends right in front of him, and he would have heard the shots in the house. He'd stopped to check on them. What the hell kind of monster was I that the possibility had never occurred to me? I'd just shot three people. Once that full realisation hit me, I threw up. I'd been trained for these situations, but I'd never actually shot anyone. Well... no. He didn't count. My only regret in shooting him was that It hadn't been fatal.

Calm down, Max. Don't think about him.

I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Max. I don't have a last name, at least not one that I remember. Or ever knew. I am what most people call a victim. I was involved in a car crash almost four years ago, and never regained my memory. Well, that's what they told me, and my lack of memories fits the amnesia story. Then again, for all I know that's something they did.

Description
A little thing you should know about me: I'm a fairly accurate shooter. I won't be setting any world records, but training in tactical shooting has made me pretty damn good, especially in odd situation like this one. That's why of the two rounds I fired, both found their mark, right in the torso of the nearest guy chasing me. That gave me an extra ten yards or so, another five to ten if the guy behind him ran for cover in case I had another shot.

Still not enough.

I turned and sprinted for the river. It wasn't until I reached it the opposite bank, a ten meter swim, that I realized something was wrong. I should have been caught. Those men were trained professionals, and as the job required also pretty good athletes. I was a 5' 6" girl with more of a pension for math and science then athletics, not that I was out of shape. Still, there was not way I had shot and possibly killed three of them and outrun the....

I SHOT three of them. He was looking out for his friends.

What the hell was wrong with me. Of course the fourth guy had stopped. I put two rounds in one of his friends right in front of him, and he would have heard the shots in the house. He'd stopped to check on them. What the hell kind of monster was I that the possibility had never occurred to me? I'd just shot three people. Once that full realisation hit me, I threw up. I'd been trained for these situations, but I'd never actually shot anyone. Well... no. He didn't count. My only regret in shooting him was that It hadn't been fatal.

Calm down, Max. Don't think about him.

I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Max. I don't have a last name, at least not one that I remember. Or ever knew. I am what most people call a victim. I was involved in a car crash almost four years ago, and never regained my memory. Well, that's what they told me, and my lack of memories fits the amnesia story. Then again, for all I know that's something they did.