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“You know Marty, I think you actually have a good shot with Jessica.” The remark comes from my squadmate, Jake, somewhere on my right.
Letting out an audible sound of disbelief I risk a glance behind me.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Just two days ago you told me I’d never pick up a girl, let alone Jess.”
Jake raises his hands in mock surrender. “Look dude, I thought so then. But yesterday Alessia told me in the mess hall last night that Jess had eyes on a guy in our squad. At first, I thought it was me, you know, ‘cause of my dashing good looks.
I roll my eyes at the remark.
“Then I thought it must’ve been Randy until I remembered…”
A solemn silence falls over the men.
Jake continues, “But then she just shook her head and walked away.”
I let out a low whistle, “You sure it’s not Mike? That guy picks up ladies faster than your loud-ass blabbering attracts the infected.”
Mike emerges from around the corner, “What was that Walker?”
“Why you-”
Jake pulls me into a false chokehold, as I fight to gain the upper hand.
“Alright ladies, break it up!” Mike hollers from the sidelines.
A noise brings our scuffle to an abrupt stop. The once-quiet streets erupt in the harsh static from my radio. Shit. This can’t be good.
“Red Team, do you copy?”
“Walker, pick up the damn radio!”
“This is Red Team to Alpha Wolf, over.”
“About time! Listen, there’s some real shit going down near- FUCKING SCARS! WE’VE LOST HALF THE TEAM! WALKER GET YOUR ASS TO THE EAST PERIMETER RIGHT NOW.”
The radio goes silent.
I check my watch, breaking into a sprint. If we run we should only be a minute of two from the rendezvous. I can only beg to some entity that Jake’s outburst didn’t attract the attention of the infected, as I hurdle a garbage bin, jogging into the alleyway directly across the street from the perimeter. Mike and Jake are in hot pursuit, struggling to keep up with my record pace.
Glancing out from behind a brick building, I see that there are- in fact- at least ten Scars aiming their primitive weapons at some of us. One of our own goes down with an arrow through the chest, while a round of bullets rips through one of the nearest Scars. Another Wolf keels over after getting skewered by another arrow.
What they lack in artillery they gain in numbers, as half a dozen other cultists emerge from the shadows. I meet Jake’s gaze, who nods at Mike.
After a deep breath, I slide a new MAG into my Vepr, opening fire on the army of Scars. Two go down instantly after my assault, followed by another three to Mike and Jake’s barrage. One of the Scars shoots an arrow that sings by my left ear, causing me to duck behind the wall. After a few seconds, the Scars number begins to drop dramatically, with close to a dozen bodies littering the clearing.
I hear Mike curse from beside me, “Shit, I’m outta ammo!”
Jake turns his head to acknowledge the remark and makes a fatal mistake.
An arrow sinks right through his eye.
“NO! JACOB!!”
Suddenly a bang resounds through the clearing, and the last Scar falls dead.
“Mike, you didn’t fire that shot, did you?”
“N-nah man it wasn’t me.”
“Must’ve been Alpha Team.”
Mike’s face is void of emotion. “His death was swift.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s all we can ask for right?”
A moment of silence passes before the radio crackles once more.
“Red Team, do you read?”
“Alpha Wolf, we copy. Did you fire that shot?” My voice comes out breathless
“Negative Red Team, I was going to ask the same thing. We’ve got a bunch of casualties on our end, you?”
“Yeah,” my voice breaks with emotion.
“We lost Whitlock..”
A brief pause.
“We’ll debrief once we reach headquarters, watch out for foreign-”
Another BANG! And shouting reaches my ears from the other end.
“DAMMIT! DAMN THIS FUCKING CITY TO HELL!”
I turn to Mike, eyes glazed in fear.
“Mike, we can’t let the hostile force get to the FOB, you go left around the building and I’ll swing right. Maybe we can cut him off.”
Mike nods and vanishes around the corner. I take the right, rifle propped up against my shoulder.
*No sign of him.*
BANG!
A feminine grunt.
*What the Fuck?*
A flash of metal enters my vision as a body hurtles toward me. I try to raise my rifle, but it’s thrown from my grip before I can regain my composure. A woman holds a knife up to my neck, struggling to slit my throat.
I’m blinded by panic as I fight to keep her wiry arms away from my body.
“You killed my friend you bitch!”
She knees me in the groin, producing a loud OMPH!
The next thing I know I’m on the ground, and the knife has sunken my chest. The girl stands over me, panting. Her red hair fails to mask the blood all over her face, and her eyes are alight with rage. I feel my vision blurring as I hurl out expletives directed towards the woman, who begins to walk away.
Static.
“Red Team do you copy?”
“Red Team?”
As the life seeps out of my body, one final thought enters my mind.
I should have asked her out while I had the chance.