The hall was empty. Yellow lights draped in through windows, cut into pieces by broken blinds. A man sat at a corner, taking a drag off his cigarette. NV Goggles pointing upwards on his head, heavily drawn face. Stubbles maybe 2 days old. His left hand calmly on the gun. Similar to the one Night Cat uses. Black. Long barreled. Attached to a tripod.
He looks out the gap between crooked aluminum streaks.
"Mother 1." he whispered. His voice low, broken, but clear.
"Come in, Owl." the radio blared into his ear.
"Spot on Coyote 4. Fatty flat-lined and Coyotes grouping. Permission to take out."
Static. Silence. Static.
"Negative, Owl. No go."
"Hooah."
He leaned back onto the wall. All he could hear now were distant gun fires bouncing off every building between him and his targets. And water dripping, probably from the hall behind. Else it was silent. Every once in a while there would be whispers of his team mates in his ear. He took out another cigarette and lit it.
After what seemed like hours, he emerged from mental shutdown and spoke.
"Mother 1, awaiting orders."
Silence. Static.
"Standby, Owl."
Almost immediately after the command, he saw a marine walk pass the road in front of him, 2 floors down. Firebat. Easy kill, he thought. Firebats can't do any damage from this distance.
"Mother 1, spot on Coyote 4, Lone Ranger. Permission to take out."
"All in position?" a voice asked everyone else in his team.
"Hooah Tiger."
"Hooah Sly."
"Hooah Chain."
"Hooah Owl."
Silance. The Firebat was almost out of his sight now. He positioned the gun toward his prey, one eye on the scope. Hitting his tank would be enough to make the kill. But it had to be silent. He aimed for the head. The Firebat won't know what hit him.
"It's a Green. Go go go."
A slight smirk ran pass his left cheek as he slipped his forefinger into the trigger. Both eyes open, one in the scope and one for better overall view.
Just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, a flash came from the opposite building. 5th floor maybe. Before he could even react, there was a loud thump and his body was pushed 10 yards back. Blood spilling out of his head. Eyes wide open.
"Owl."
"Come in, Owl"
Silence.
"Mother 1, I think I see..." silence.
Sounds of dripping continued. The howls of zombies were already getting louder. They smell the blood. Else, silence.
Night Cat moved his eye away from the scope. The barrel end of his gun smoked.
"I could smell your cigarette from a mile away." He whispered. He stood up, swung his gun over his shoulder and walked out of the room. One shell casing left next to the window.
