| [Jun. 3rd, 2009|07:37 pm] |
Ginta was easily as large as the dog that carried him. He balanced precariously, belly flat against the dog's undulating spine, arms wrapped around its neck in what he hoped was less than a choke hold. His legs dragged on either side, toes raking the ground. As the dog bunched muscles to move, Ginta hooked his fingers under the thick leather collar and did his best to hold on. They lept over obstacles--debris from the multiple explosions, fallen bodies, pools of flame-licked fuel. He could feel bones in his right leg grating, twisting out of position at every jolt, as his feet bumped the ground. He tried to pull them up, and managed to lift his left foot, but the right was beyond his control.
People were screaming as they raced from the flames. One woman staggered out of the gloom, clothes aflame, and fell in front of them. The dog barely paused before leaping over her. Thick, oily smoke poured out of one ruined wall, choking and black, and so hot Ginta could feel his skin blister. He held his breath as long as he could, shut his eyes in an instinctive self-protective gesture, and ducked his head down against the dog's thick fur.
The world was reduced to this: pain, heat, suffocation, and terror. Somewhere close by, Kakashi had Tsuyako. That chakra presence was still there. Blue-white. Strong despite everything. Ginta risked a look back, saw a shadow running next to him, with another taller shadow by its side. Hoshika and Kakashi, and the bulky shape of Tsuyako's limp body in Kakashi's arms.
There was a high-pitched whistle, like a kettle on the boil. A shower of cinders fell across Ginta's back, sharp little spots of pain like stars against a velvet midnight sky. His right leg caught against a splintered board, nearly pulling him off the dog's back. Nearly pulling consciousness out of him. And then the ceiling fell.
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