It was a dark and abandoned building. Any semblance of usefulness completely lost to whoever may have inhabited it, which were mostly rats. The windows were shattered and the floors were old and decaying with age. The air was biting as the moon reached its peak, signaling midnight. A cold breeze swept through the broken building as it sat, lonely in the middle of a large city. Yet through all the death and decay there were other signs of life other than the vermin. Two men sat at the eastern edge of the fourth story window, one holding a sniper rifle and aiming it at a more populated building, the other holding an M-16 and keeping an eye out for anyone else.
The man with the sniper rifle cracked his neck, adjusting his black trench coat to where he wouldn't get his suit too dirty. As he peered down the sight of the rifle through his ceramic skull mask that covered his face completely he felt a breeze rush by him and knock his hat out of place. Adjusting it he focused his aim back down at the building.
The man with the M-16 flipped the hood of his white jacket over his head to keep his ears from freezing off. He brushed a bit of dirt off of his mask, which had only two slits for eyes. He shook his large arms to keep blood flowing and glanced back at his partner. "Think you got this, Reaper?" He asked, turning around to face the building as well.
"I've got it Wraith, trust me." Reaper replied, his thin body shaking from the cold.
"Are you certain?" Wraith asked in a sarcastic tone. "Because the last time you had it you forgot who the target was."
"What?" Reaper said defensively. "We got him eventually."
"Yeah, only because he stepped into traffic after you shot that waiter."
"Point is we'll get the job done." Reaper continued. "Trust me, it'll work."
"…Do you even remember the one we're targeting?" Wraith asked, cocking his head to the side.
"Eh…yeah?" Reaper replied nervously. "It's…Chuck right?"
Wraith sighed and pulled up a picture of an old man. As he did this he began reading a description as well as the reasons for the job. "Alex Mavern, drug trafficker. Age: 68, reason for death: eliminating competition. Usually seen wearing a suit with a red shirt and black tie. He has two bodyguards, one with a shaved head the other with a ponytail. Mode of death: Determined by executioners."
As Wraith folded the picture up and put it in his pocket Reaper shrugged. "I would've figured it out eventually."
"But we're supposed to finish the job tonight." Wraith said, sighing. "Please tell me you have a visual of the contact."
"I've had him in my sights for a while now." Reaper replied. "He's been making this deal with another guy. I can't really get a good shot in, though. Baldy bodyguard is in the way."
"Just be sure to get him before he leaves the city." Wraith sighed.
A few moments passed and eventually Reaper said. "Huh, that's odd."
"What?" Wraith asked, a slight amount of hope in his voice.
"Looks like one of the bodyguards has a case of the sniffles or something. He's been coughing all through the deal." Reaper replied casually.
"You're supposed to be keeping your attention on the dealer." Wraith stated, agitated.
"I know I know." Reaper sighed, shifting the rifle to aim at Alex once again.
"You'd better know or we won't be able to pay for food this week."
"Still, it's very hard to pay attention with all the distractions."
"What's going on now?"
"Ponytail's starting to cough up…is that blood?"
"Irrelevant to the job at hand, Reaper."
"No, this is really relevant, and really bad." Reaper said, glancing up at Wraith.
"How so?"
"Baldy's calling somebody…maybe an ambulance or the police or somebody."
"Then take the shot damnit!" Wraith shouted, looking to the building in desperation.
"The target's moved out of my field of vision. It looks like Ponytail's hit the floor."
"You're joking right?"
"No…and baldy's finished his call. We're in some serious trouble here."
"Well do something."
"Actually…I don't think I need to do much at all."
"What's do you mean?" Wraith asked, genuinely curious.
Reaper lowered his gun, amazement in his voice. "You're not going to believe this."
"What? What's happening?"
"Well…"Reaper stopped, almost not believing what he was saying. "Ponytail just stood up and ripped out Alex's throat."
"What? Let me see." Wraith pushed Reaper to the side and began looking through the scope. His response was the same as Reaper, a mixture of surprise and annoyance. They had sat up in that cold building for three days, staking out the area and watching his every move. Now, with their chance finally upon them, the bodyguard gets the sniffles and goes on a killing spree. It annoyed the mercenaries to no end.
Reaper sighed and began taking apart the sniper rifle. "Well, what do you recommend we do about this?"
"Leave him to what he's doing. I'm certain ponytail will get his eventually." Wraith replied, turning away.
"No, I mean about the job." Reaper said, stuffing the parts of the rifle into a suitcase. "What do we tell the employer?"
"Just tell him we put something in ponytail's water or something." Wraith said, as he spoke Reaper pulled out a cell phone and began dialing a number.
A few moments passed and Reaper began speaking as he heard their employer's voice on the phone. "Yeah, it's me." Reaper started. "We got him." A few moments passed and Reaper chuckled. "Put something in one of his guard's drinks. He went crazy and took out the target no sweat…Don't sweat the small stuff, just pay us the fee and we'll be on our way…Just send the assets to our offshore account…Alright, and no, thank you."
"Now that situation is done and over with, what the hell happened!"
"I honestly have no idea." Reaper replied with a sigh.
Reaper closed his cell phone and Wraith nodded his approval. "Right, well that doesn't matter now. We're done here so let's head out. I'm eager to get back home."
Reaper began rubbing his chin, seeming to be in deep thought. "Something about this is bugging me." Reaper said, looking up at Wraith.
"What?"
"About ponytail." Reaper replied.
"What about it?" Wraith asked, tilting his head to the side.
"Since we started watching them ponytail was probably the most mentally stable out of all of them." The mercenary replied as he scratched his head. "It just doesn't seem right that he'd snap like that and go on a killing spree."
"He was also sick, if you recall." Wraith said, hoping to find some explanation. "He could've been thinking irrationally during that meeting."
"But he was coughing up blood, Wraith."
"Probably just another symptom, don't look too into it. Alex is dead and we got paid. Just be happy that we had a successful mission and get on with life."
Reaper sighed, picking up the suitcase that held the rifle. "Alright then, let's head to the car." As he said this the sound of pistol fire could be heard. "Guess that means they got ponytail."
The two mercenaries walked out of the room they were in and into a hallway. As they did they heard sirens in the distance, meaning that the cleanup was started. Wraith seemed unconcerned about what happened, but Reaper still had his doubts. What happened to that guy? People don't just snap like that, not if they're in the right frame of mind.
He was so obsessed with this situation that he didn't notice the door to the outside was closed and walked right into it. He heard Wraith chuckle as he opened the door. "You usually do this to work a door my friend."
"Shut it." Reaper said, rubbing his nose. "I'm not a moron that doesn't know how to open a door."
"Just relax, Reaper, it's only a joke."
Reaper sighed, stepping out into the cold night air and into a dank alley. Parked at the edge of the alley was a black muscle car, frost building on the front window. Reaper got into the driver's side while Wraith got into the passenger and the car's low rumble resonated through the alleyway.
On the inside of the car the bottom of the back was completely clean, as were the leather seats. In fact, the entirety of the car was perfectly clean. Reaper chose to keep it like this, not being able to drive in a dirty car.
Reaper saw Wraith turn the radio on from the corner of his eye. The local news station turned on and the familiar voice of the newscaster came onto the radio. "…And in other news, the random acts of violence continue to increase as the police find their hands full."
Suddenly Reaper and Wraith's attention were focused on the radio. "Turn it up." Reaper said as he started driving. Wraith nodded, turning up the radio.
"Eye witnesses to each of the attacks have said that the offenders had a high fever and vomited up blood." As the newscaster said this, the two mercenaries glanced at each other. "After vomiting up the blood the offenders would enter a period of silence, usually lasting thirty seconds or so, then they would get up shortly after and start attacking the nearest person. We have concluded that this is caused by a special disease that CEDA is working to contain."
"CEDA?" Reaper asked, looking to the radio. "Those useless government monkeys?"
"Quiet." Wraith said, glaring at Reaper. "Hear that?"
The next few words the newscaster said were lost to the two mercenaries as they tried to listen to the background noises. It was faint but they heard a light coughing noise every now and again. "What do you think?" Reaper asked, turning to Wraith.
"I think something's going to happen if we leave the radio on long enough." Wraith replied, turning up the radio even more.
A few minutes passed as the two mercenaries drove through the crowded city streets and the condition of the new report didn't seem to change. There was something about a robbery and a few rednecks making some assault or something like that but it didn't matter. Through the entire news report the sound of the coughing seemed to grow a little louder. Eventually the report stopped and they heard the new caster say, "Jennings, are you alright?"
From that point there was nothing audible, merely loud noises and shouting. They heard a loud crash and then there was silence. A few moments of uncomfortable noiselessness passed between the mercenaries as they turned off the radio. "Well…" Reaper said, drifting off. "I think this is more than a coincidence."
"So you honestly think there's a disease turning everyone into homicidal maniacs?" Wraith asked, turning to his partner.
"Hard to argue with the evidence." Reaper replied. "It's even happening in the news stations."
"…Do you realize what that means?"
"What?"
"Our cover story can be proven false at any point…meaning that our employer can stop our payment if this reaches his ears."
"Oh…crap." Reaper sighed, realizing their situation.
As they were talking more and more sirens began to sound off in the distance. "Sounds like the police have their hands full." Wraith stated as a cop car drove past them.
"It looks like it's more than the police." Reaper said as an ambulance drove past a stoplight from across the street.
Wraith sighed and sat back in his seat. "Unexplained diseases, unprecedented attacks, hell even the police and emergency medical services are being run ragged. If I didn't know any better I'd say we were in the middle of a zombie invasion."
"Nah." Reaper said, shaking his head. "This is only the beginning."
"You honestly believe we're going to run into a zombie apocalypse?" Wraith asked, almost laughing.
"Not entirely, this may be just a passing thing." Reaper replied, any semblance of anything jovial lost. "But it may be best to avoid CEDA and all that for the time being. In fact, it may be best if we hunker down in the warehouse for a time."
"What? Our homes aren't good enough?" Wraith asked, a little surprised.
"They can't be defended as easily as the warehouse." The smaller mercenary said. "Besides, it has a large store of weapons that may be useful. I'm not saying we go Rambo on anything that moves just yet, but it pays to be prepared for the worst as a just in case measure."
Wraith sighed, rubbing his temples. "Well you have a point there. Okay, we'll hole up in the warehouse for a week, but if you're wrong about this then you owe me a day of drinks at the bar. Sound like a fair deal?"
Reaper nodded, turning at a nearby stoplight. "Deal, just try not to kill yourself if you're right."
"I'm not making any promises." Wraith chuckled as the two began heading off towards the warehouse they had rented out on the costal side of the city.