Chapter 7: Shots and Smiles [v]
POV: Jane
Morning started with the sound of boots on packed earth and the dull thump of fists against punching bags. The camp stirred like a hive. Sunlight filtered through the patchy canvas roofs, painting faint rays on worn gear and tired eyes.
"Up! Let's go! You've got ten seconds or you're skipping breakfast!" someone barked.
Scarlett was already stretching, a bow strapped across her back. Luke tossed a glance at it. "Still with the Robin Hood phase?"
She rolled her eyes. "It feels right."
"Feels like a great way to die slowly," Jonah added, grinning.
"I'll aim for your mouth next time you say something stupid," she said dryly.
Blair snorted. "And miss?"
Scarlett smiled. "I never miss."
Jane jogged past them, calling out, "Let's move. Training's not optional, no matter how witty you feel."
Grey already there.
---
POV: Narrator
The morning drills were fast and brutal. By noon, sweat clung to everyone's skin. The sun was relentless.
A routine check had been scheduled. Luke led the small recon group—Scarlett, Jonah, and Blair with a few others. They passed the outer perimeter quietly, Scarlett caressing her bow.
They were sweeping the ruined block just outside the eastern edge when it happened.
A gunshot cracked.
Sharp. Accidental.
Everyone froze.
Blair turned wide-eyed to Jonah. "Was that you?!"
He held his hands up. "No! Not me!"
Scarlett's blood went cold. "Get ready. They'll come now."
And come they did.
Within minutes, the moans started. Then the dead poured in from alleyways, crawling from beneath broken walls and burned-out vehicles.
"Back! Regroup!" Luke shouted, but there were too many.
Scarlett moved quick, arrows flying clean and lethal. Jonah fired in bursts. Blair cursed between each reload. Luke took a gash to the side 2 minutes in but kept moving.
"This is getting out of hand!" someone yelled.
"We need backup!"
The call was made.
--
When the emergency alert came, Jane grabbed her gear and ran. Grey was already armed and moving.
A backup team of six assembled. Jane, Grey, and a few soldiers—Mason, Kell, and Dario—loaded into the vehicle and tore through the dirt paths. They were 4 mins away .
Each team not too far from each other due to the dangers
They arrived to chaos.
Bodies everywhere. Undead closing in.
Jane jumped out, firing into the crowd, covering Scarlett's retreat. She saw Luke stumble—blood soaked his side. A soldier reached for him, tried to yank him backward.
"Keep him distracted while we get away!" he yelled.
"No!" Jane snapped.
But it was too late.
Luke was shoved backwards.
And then—
The air stilled.
"Grey?" Jane turned.
He was no longer beside her.
---
POV: Jane
Grey was already in the middle of them.
He moved like a storm unleashed.
A blade in hand, hatchet in the other.spinning, cutting, ripping. The first strike tore through an undead's jaw, splitting skull from spine. A pivot and the blade buried itself into the temple of another, wrenched out with a wet crack.
One came from behind.
Grey ducked low, swept the legs, and slammed the blade down as it fell, caving its chest in.
He grabbed a fallen rifle, used it as a blunt weapon—shoved the stock through a skull, kicked another to the ground, and twisted his heel over its throat till the vertebrae gave way.
Blood sprayed, misting the air red.
He didn't stop.
Another came from the side. He parried with the hilt, spun the blade into its ribs, and let it fall as he caught a pipe from the ground.
More undead flooding in, he's meeting them half way.
He throws two knives, i barely registered their origin
They hit the mark.
A spin kick on the jaw of another disfigures it's skull
He yanks one over by tugging on its barely battered shirt ,Stabs it through it's eye slowly while maintaining eye contact with the idiot that pushed Luke
A brutal arc.
Crack.
Skulls caved.
He didn't blink.
Didn't speak.
The only sign he was breathing was the slight heaving of his chest
It's been more than 5 minutes
The soldiers aren't even trying to lend a hand
We don't either
Undead fell like wheat under a scythe.
The soldier who had shoved Luke froze in place, weapon shaking in hand.
The last crawler lunged.
Grey turned mid-stride, caught its neck mid-air, slammed it down into broken concrete, and plunged his blade in slowly until the twitching stopped.
Silence.
Only the breeze.
Blood pooled at his boots. Bodies surrounded him like a ring of execution.
Everyone stared.
Frozen.
Grey stood over Luke, breathing hard, face unreadable, blades dripping.
Then, he knelt.
Ripped a cloth from his cloak. Pressed it to Luke's side.
"You're not dying here," he said.
Luke coughed, half-laughing. "You really know how to make an entrance."
Grey didn't respond right away.
"Forgot you cared," Luke added, weakly grinning.
Grey's lips twitched, he hitched an eyebrow up
A ghost of a smile.
"liar."
Luke chuckled and coughed.
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