Waking the next morning...

It’s still somewhat dark when you open your eyes again although the faint chirping of birds in the distance means dawn cannot be that far away; you sigh heavily as you sit up on the couch, you had been dreaming of the past, of family and friends and the return to reality was almost painful. Your stomach growls softly and you nibble on some jerky as you begin laying the curtains out on the break room floor; taking up your knife you begin cutting, trimming the long, dark green curtains down to a more manageable length.

It takes longer than you had expected or hoped and results in several rather painful nicks to your long, slender fingers, but eventually you manage to trim the thick curtains and then use some of your roll of twine to fashion yourself something approximating a toga. The garment is ugly, rather crudely fashioned and it clings to the slopes of your upper body but it’s still better than that slutty fur coat and tiny panties getup you had been wearing when you had fled that bitch Regina and her two crazed friends the previous day.

After donning your new garb; you take a seat on the couch, forcing down a packet of dry porridge and a few strips of beef jerky as you gaze thoughtfully out the window at the city and its empty streets. Now that there’s enough light I should search the rest of the building you reflect contemplativelyThen maybe some of those brownstone’s across the street you sigh and climb heavily back to your feet, the break room reveals little that is useful, although you collect a set of cutlery and a few plastic dishes from the cupboard, property of a now deceased librarian no doubt.

You find nothing useful to you in either of the two bathrooms and you are not expecting to find much as you begin going through the boxes in the storeroom and you soon discover that you were right to have your doubts. Much of the storerooms contents were little more than supplies for the daily operations of the library; spare library cards, blank paper for the printers and registers, sign-up sheets and newsletter pamphlets, standard office supplies and the like, but on the last shelf you had found something that could be very useful, very useful indeed; a somewhat rusted crowbar.

“Bingo” you murmur, grinning widely as you stare down into the box, this last box had not been in the storeroom like the others, no, this one had been a metal banker’s box, half hidden under the counter by the checkout station. It had been locked when you found it but a few, admittedly loud, minutes with the crowbar had taken care of that minor obstacle; you had opened the box and stared down at the soft purple fabric, nestled atop it is a gleaming revolver and there in the box beside it are exactly six bullets, their copper jackets glinting in the bright sunlight.

“Why would you need this here? I mean, honestly who would bother robbing a library?” you mutter to yourself as you scoop up the gun “Do they even have money here?”

The still air is suddenly split by a loud, piercing scream from somewhere outside the building and you almost jump in shock; scurrying over to the window, dropping into a crouch and peering over the windowsill at the lush green surface of the park outside. There, outside on the big field of grass were two groups of people, the first was a trio of running figures; all of them male, they were wild haired and clad in ragged clothing; all three of them in rapid pursuit of a pair of women, one was a tall redhead and the other was shorter and had long golden curls; both of the women were sprinting directly towards the library but you could clearly see the men were gaining on them.

The redheaded woman was a few steps ahead of her shorter companion when the blond was suddenly brought to the ground in a brutal flying tackle from the fastest of the pursuing men. She let out a shrill piercing scream as she fell; the redhead glanced back and slowed her pace, clearly uncertain on whether to try to go back or to abandon her companion and just keep on running.

Inside the library, you lick your lips nervously as you stare through the window; the two other men have caught up and are now flanking their faster comrade, he has risen to his feet and is standing over the blonde who simply lies on the ground before them sobbing gently. The men are all armed, although their weapons appear to be nothing more than knives and a baseball bat with some nails driven through it, certainly no match for you pistol especially with the element of surprise on your side, but...should you intervene? Both groups are unknown to you and you have a limited supply of ammunition for your new found gun and may need all of it later

What should I do? You think, biting your lip a little as you watch.