Wrath (2)

Stalker's gaze lingered on the flickering flames, a visual testament to the chaos that engulfed their sanctuary. The urgency in his eyes reflected the weight of responsibility he felt. 

Turning to the group, determination etched on his face, he spoke with a voice filled with purpose, "I need to find the others!" 

Andrew, a steadfast companion, met Stalker's gaze. "Protect them for me," Stalker requested, and Andrew responded with a solemn nod. "I will, brother."

As Stalker readied himself to depart, he couldn't help but steal one last glance at the makeshift infirmary. His eyes focused on Zach, unconscious yet still connected to the world through Maddy's grasp. 

Her comforting words echoed in the room, "You're going to be okay." Stalker, acknowledging the reassurance, shifted his gaze away, gripping his gun with determination.

With a firm grip on the doorknob, Stalker opened the door, shutting it behind him. The world outside awaited, fraught with uncertainty. The air was thick with tension, and as Stalker navigated the desolate corridors, an unexpected intrusion disrupted the silence.

"Breach!" A commanding voice shattered the stillness, echoing through the hallways. Stalker pivoted to face the imminent threat—soldiers breaching the stairs.

 His instincts kicked in, and without uttering a word, he aimed his rifle with precision. A single shot broke the silence, a bullet finding its mark in the head of an unsuspecting soldier.

The response was swift and fierce. "Enemy!" The soldiers, now alerted, directed their weapons towards Stalker. Seeking refuge, he darted into a nearby room. The chaos intensified as a deafening explosion rocked the building—shells fired from a distant tank.

Caught in the blast, Stalker felt the impact of debris against his head, rendering him unconscious. Smoke billowed from the newly formed hole, obscuring the scene within.

Meanwhile, Jackal and Cob, attuned to the distant sounds of home under siege, prepared to face the impending threat. 

Realizing the urgency, Cob armed himself with a rifle fitted with a blade. Jackal, displaying exceptional coordination, initiated their synchronized attack.

Counting down with three raised fingers, Jackal signaled the moment. The doors swung open violently as Cob and Jackal charged into the fray. 

Biters, drawn by the commotion, became obstacles in their path. Cob's rifle blade cut through the air, jabbing into biters, while Jackal utilized swift kicks and precise thrusts to clear their way.

In unison, they sprinted towards the source of the disturbance.

Cob and Jackal, poised with determination, surveyed the chaotic scene—the ominous tank, the relentless gunfire, and the growing horde of biters drawn by the noise. Rifles equipped with makeshift silencers in hand, they became a formidable duo against the backdrop of urban decay.

Cob's precise shot found its mark, hitting a soldier in the head. The tank, seemingly indifferent to the chaos it wrought, continued its relentless assault on the apartment building, a beacon that summoned biters from all corners of the city.

Meanwhile, Jackal, demonstrating equal proficiency, aimed and fired at another soldier. The bullet struck the soldier in the hip, eliciting a pained cry. "I'M HIT!" the injured soldier screamed. Responding swiftly, Cob fired, silencing the wounded soldier with a fatal shot to the head. "ENEMIES WEST!" a soldier's alert echoed, urging them to take cover.

Seeking refuge behind a car, bullets rained down, shattering windows and triggering alarms. Cob hissed through clenched teeth, "We have to get out of this position!" Jackal, sharing the sentiment, nodded in agreement.

Pointing to the approaching biters, Jackal signaled their next move. "On me." Cob and Jackal swiftly closed the distance to two nearby biters, dispatching them with ruthless efficiency. Using the lifeless bodies as makeshift shields, they advanced towards the chaos, the tank still fixated on its destructive course.

Amidst the gunfire, Cob and Jackal engaged with the biters, protecting themselves with grim determination. The soldiers, their focus divided between the approaching duo and the relentless undead, struggled to maintain control.

Cob's rifle barked, delivering deadly precision. Soldiers fell—one to the neck, another to the chest. The tank's ominous presence loomed, a harbinger of destruction. "Operation Zinc is completed! We are clear to head out!" a voice from the tank declared, and the soldiers began their retreat.

Cob and Jackal observed from cover as the tank unleashed a final shell into the building before disappearing from sight. The soldiers, now retreating, piled into vehicles and sped away.

Rushing towards the hotel, Cob and Jackal, weapon at the ready, shouted a warning, "DON'T SHOOT! THEY ARE GONE! IT'S US!" Through the haze of smoke, they navigated the remnants of destruction, biters limping in the aftermath.

Within the hotel, Sarge heard the enraged soldiers plotting vengeance. "THIS FUCK KILLED BARNEY!" a soldier's furious accusation echoed through the rooms. Another voice advocated retribution. "I say we kill him when he wakes up."

With a resounding whistle, Sarge entered the room, rifle aimed. A soldier charged at him, grappling with him and tackling him to the ground. In the struggle, a knife found its way into Sarge's shoulder, a searing pain erupting through him as his scream reverberated through the smoke-filled chaos.

In the aftermath of the tumult, Stalker slowly regained consciousness, a metallic tang of blood lingering in the air. The soldier, fueled by vengeance, turned his wrath towards Sarge. "You'll die first!" he screamed, his rage echoing through the chaos.

As Stalker's eyes flickered open, he swiftly reached for his rifle, the cold metal providing a sense of reassurance. Rising to his feet, he faced the soldiers with a gruff determination. 

"Piss off," he growled, the sharp retort preceding the deadly echo of gunshots. Stalker's bullets found their marks, hitting both soldiers square in the head. Blood erupted, painting the walls in a macabre display.

Despite the victorious outcome, Stalker winced, surveying the aftermath of the confrontation. Turning his attention to Sarge, he noted the knife lodged in his shoulder. 

"You got a knife in you," Stalker observed bluntly. Sarge, gritting his teeth, retorted, "Stop looking and help me, asshole."

With a rough yet purposeful grab, Stalker lifted Sarge to his feet. The arrival of Cob and Jackal brought a momentary reprieve. 

"Is everyone okay?" Cob inquired, concern etched across his features. Stalker's response was measured, revealing the grim toll of the recent events. "We lost a few people; some are missing."

His gaze settled on Sarge, and Stalker disclosed, "Zach got bit; we amputated his arm." Jackal's eyes widened at the revelation, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Seeking information about other missing members, Stalker pressed further. "Where's Rudy? Carter? Lilah?" he queried.

"We just got back," Cob replied, Sarge looked at the group. "They may be trapped on the third floor" Sarge spoke. Jackal chimed in, noting the absence of the children. "Where are the kids?" Jackal's concern mirrored the sentiments of the group.

Stalker sighed, his uncertainty reflecting the turbulent circumstances. In a dimly lit room, a voice broke the silence. "When will we leave?" The speaker, a young boy, looked up at a figure. Peering cautiously outside the hotel room, the figure observed biters roaming the halls, all bearing the ominous darts in their necks.

Softly shutting the door, the figure revealed himself to be Rudy. "Shhh. The monsters are outside, okay?" he spoke soothingly to the little boy.

 In response, the child expressed hope, saying, "My mommy should be here at any moment." The fragile sanctuary of the room held a mixture of fear, uncertainty, and a glimmer of hope in the face of the encroaching darkness.