Police sirens were barely audible over the sounds of destruction. A pipe in the wall closest to Regin groaned, then burst out of the drywall, spewing cold water up toward the ceiling. Loose weights snapped up against her feet and calves with metallic clangs, followed quickly by a slew of different machines and barbels. CLANG-CLANG-CLANG.
Bobby crawled out from under Adalina's dead weight, cussing the whole time. The two of them were momentarily swept along by a sliding treadmill until it straightened out on its journey to Regin. When he stood, it was wobbly, and he held an arm across his stomach.
He drew a gun from the back of his pants, and even he was surprised it was still there. With Regin busy, he aimed it right at Adalina's head, and he pulled the trigger.
The gunshot echoed off the walls, but the bullet landed in one just past Regin's head, no where near Adalina. When Bobby shot again (like it might end up differently), the noise alone woke her, and this time the bullet ricocheted.
Off of Regin's cheek.
He screamed unintelligibly and fired off three more rounds, and all three bent back toward Regin and the cage of machines piling up around her like some sort of gym equipment group hug. It nearly looked like some kind of fitness-friendly transformer. (Adalina was entirely too dazed to appreciate being shot at.)
"This is YOUR FUCKING FAULT," he shouted to the room, but he was speaking to Regin. And then he was stalking toward her, gun raised, and fired off rounds at her until the gunshots turned into clicks.