Bus fight

The gun clattered to the floor of the bus. Thirty heads simultaneously revolved to look at the commotion. They saw one man subduing another. A fight ensued. The guy who had the gun was elbowing the other man, who was dressed in black, as he tried to choke him. The gunman shoved him away and leapt for the piece. His hands smacked cold metal. He spun around and fired two rounds into the man. The attacker froze as the bullets struck him in the shoulder and arm. He pushed forward, unphased by the wounds. The click of the empty gun resonated 5 times as the gunman tried to finish the job. He threw the piece at the man's head. He barely dodged it; the sharp edge of the slide scraped his cheek. The man in black struck suddenly with his left, hitting the gunman in the jaw. Both men fell down as the bus stopped suddenly. They didn't hear the people screaming, fleeing the bus out onto the streets. Only the ringing in their ears as they both rose to their feet. The man dressed in black staggered as he tried to use his wounded arm to support himself. That split second gave the gunman the chance he needed. He lunged forward and there was a small flash of metal. A dagger, concealed under the man's shirt sleeve. The man-in-black grabbed his wrist as he stabbed. He managed to slow the attack, but the blade met its mark, sinking into his side. It was white-hot, as if his blood was on fire. They were close now. He let go of the gunman's wrist and grabbed him by the neck again. He swept his feet out from under him and put his whole bodyweight on top of the other man.There was no getting away this time. Using only one arm, He bit his hand to keep the chokehold in place. Within 8 seconds the gunman was unconscious. A couple seconds after that, he was dead. The wounded survivor staggered off the bus clutching his stab wound. His mind was short circuiting from blood loss, and he didn't have much time. He dragged himself to the concrete wall of the convenience store the bus had stopped next to. Pulling out his phone, he made a call. No words were spoken. The beep of the answering machine went off. Whoever listened to the voicemail would hear haggard breathing, getting softer and softer, until it was a barely audible croak, and then silence.