12 Beginning...or the End?

I was led inside a vibrant room filled with glossy décor and such. The atmosphere itself was lively enough, akin to a king's grandiose office; but rather, it was the temporary headquarters of the few, lucky individuals.

"Welcome. Here, have a seat." Paul said while putting his cigar out unto his very own ashtray carved with his name right in the centre. Lavish, as I could only stare in agape from the lifestyle of the rich.

"Thank you" I followed suit after accepting his offer, whilst munching over the pair of cookies left on the side of his desk.

"I wouldn't' eat that if I were you" He chuckles from his comment. Amused, he took the tray of cookies out of the way, pushing it over on the nearby bin, and asked Venice, who was present inside the room, to fetch us some decent desserts to spark up our aligning interests.

"Oh- is that so?" I had long before swallowed the remaining crumbs of biscuit before he could've ever warned me about. But I was a guest who abruptly took out the sweets, and was tempted to partake unto my glutton desires.

"On to the main event now, shall we?" He said as he pulls out a magnum inside his pocket.

"The last thing that I could ever wish to do is handing these firearms to a young girl like you. But, crucial times ain't going to spare us some trivial matter. Today will be your training regime. Tomorrow, you and Venice will head towards your friends and grab the most survivors as you can."

"But are we enough for it? I'm not against Venice but isn't better to have more military personn-" I exclaimed, but was immediately cut off by Venice from behind.

"Fleur, Paul here is the actual leader of our battalion, and one of the few forces left inside the country. We're holding around 200 people inside this shelter and we could hardly maintain the peace at stake. Sending myself alone for a search and rescue warrant will be the most efficient way. "

I shifted my gaze from both Paul and Venice. Both of them have sunken eyes due to their fatigue but had still managed to produce sound decisions after the matter. There was nothing more to do but acknowledge the feat given by these two officials.

"I understand" I loosen my grip and accepted the proposal. It was a matter of time before tomorrow arrives. And thus we ended our meeting.

Venice guided me unto an open field, where she'll introduce me to the arts of firing and aiming our guns and such. The setting is located at the far end of the Wharf, which was still isolated, but inside, from the said building. The open field could attract most of the infected out from the vicinity due to the outburst of gunshots released, but the whole location is submerged above the water making these zombies difficult to traverse in our current position.

For our exercise, Venice handed me the Magnum given by Paul awhile back, and asked me if I could be able to shoot at a 30 feet distance from the unused bottle can as our unfortunate dummy targets.

The magnum itself had claimed to be the most powerful handgun in the world. Similar to the games that most people play, this .44 magnum could easily penetrate and kill a grown grizzly bear- but it's not probably a recommendable feat.

The sensitivity and the massive recoil, much like from a game, had shaken most of the hunters from the apparent utilisation of the revolver itself.

"This is a Wesson .44 magnum pistol. It can hold up to 6 bullets at a time and each bullet can pack a punch from its terrifying power yield from each strike. It's really difficult to generate rapid-fire succession against such zombies, so you need to use your bullets wisely enough to protect your behind." Venice loads up the revolver on her hands. She then returns the magnum and waited for my response.

Awkwardly, I raised the gun on point-blank range, parallel to my line sight, and managed to somehow knock over the metallic bottle which stood atop of the wooden table.

The blast reverberates throughout our surroundings, and the recoil from the magnum had pushed my arms over, bending it nearly right across my face.

"That was truly remarkable for your first shot! Now, try aiming for that target over there" Without moments to spare, I was tasked to aim at a further dummy with a distance of approximately 80 feet away from our site. It was a challenge brought to by Venice herself, as I could see her mouth curling into a small grin. However, I soon called the shot and still managed to pierce the bullet on the clothed target, hitting it closely on its nape.

I was either a lucky bastard or a prodigy gunner, taking the first two shots out of a whim and successfully landed a bullet- clean on both of my apparel and canned targets.

"Way to go! I was sure you'll flunk your way on the first try but damn that was a clean shot!" Venice approaches the targets while commenting on my rather explicit aim. Praise me more! - is what I've wanted to say, as I desperately folded my inner thoughts and bickered a smile.

"No, no. It was pure luck. This is my first time after all" Fluttered, I gave out a soft laugh and walked my way towards Venice and the two targets which were destroyed by the previous shots.

It was indeed accurate and precise, according to Venice. The shot itself could be only mustered by the elite ranks of the military state- which was currently held by Paul; creating a title for himself as the 'hunter' of the army in Auckland.

"Well, I'll be giving you a pouch that could store plenty amount of bullets at your disposal. That concludes our training for today" Venice kneels and began compiling the trashes left from the training we held earlier.

"Eh?" I couldn't help but ask in a blaring tone, seemingly surprised that we had ended the regime sooner than later.

"Is that all I needed to know? How about crouching? Or…or, any tips, and tricks?" I furthermore pester Venice who was entirely focused on cleaning the mess we'd just created awhile back.

"Then, do you mind if you can help me? No need to falter. You just need to aim, shoot, and be calm inside the battlefield." She stated as if it was the most natural thing to say.

We ended the day after tidying things up and prep for the long-awaited tomorrow.

Don't worry Pura. You've waited far too long.

Just a quick report, I lost my phone during the crash and right now, I'm unable to contact by any means towards my group for this matter. I hope there'll be a flare or something to catch my comrade's attention. Or even so, I hope they're still alive amidst from all of this disaster.

-----Pura's Perspective----

We're currently stationed at the nearby cathedral and brought along visitors to our present group. The daughter, Ariel, and her mother, Zenith, had been trapped inside of their own home and luckily enough, we had successfully saved them from the onslaught happening inside- with the help of Fleur, who had provided ample of time for us to get our arse kicking on the said nightmare.

The chapel itself was voided from life. We were expecting a handful of infected, even corpses, remaining at the ingress but our updraft expectations had run far beyond our favour. We then barricaded the entrances- which was previously planned by the whole group and had managed to stay alive, healthy even, from our fruitful escape. Now, the only thing left for us to do is to patiently wait for Fleur to arrive.

"Big sister, Pura! Are we safe? Those bad guys won't get inside, right?" Ariel, who's presently 7 years old, grabs unto the end of my shirt and asked, adorably, for such reassurance from the zombies outside.

"Yep! Clinton and I will protect you with our life," I claimed, as I tightly wrap myself unto the soft body of the lovable girl. With a smile on my face, I couldn't afford to produce such a scene of dismay towards the frail little girl.

"Thank you for taking care of us" The mother, who has been in a constant panic, utters a single phrase of relaying her thanks after having momentarily rescued.

"Save your thanks, madam. We need to head towards a safer place before we could even have the time to celebrate." Clinton replied as he grasps her hand and gazes straight parallel to her face. Our goal is to protect and survive during this matter. Fleur, where the hell are you right now?

As my question wanders through my mind, a roaring blow echoes to the scene, blasting over the barricaded walls, leaving such debris scattered on the floor. A humanoid figure, roughly about 15 feet tall, with its massive physique and crawling vines, sprouted from the crash.