Chapter the Second

Once again my perch was too served as a vantage point as I surveyed my city. That's right MY city. Not the Tanks, not the Smokers, and most definitely NOT the Boomers. As the sun rose again, I inhaled deeply taking in the smells of fair Venice. The sweet potpourri of raw sewage, carrion, rusting metal, and dashed hopes, SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSNF! Ahhhhhhh, heaven. It was as I was taking in the scents of my fair city that four mid sized adults entered the courtyard where yesterday I had killed the boy. They carried guns that varied in their size and power. One, a gray haired male, carried a hunting rifle. The others carried Shotguns, M-16's, and Uzi Scorpions. They made their way over too my cold rock where I had stored the boy and halted. The fluff I had regurgitated the other day, along with the comfort objects arm, was lying in front of my cold rock. The woman knelt too collect the arm and began too weep as she did so. Then the white haired man saw me. He yelled and I noticed that the sun had hit me broadside. In the dark I looked like another gargoyle, but now I was revealed for what I was. The bullets tore into my shoulders and chest as the man opened fire. The pain was intense and I tumbled onto the shingling which gave way beneath me and I plummeted into the church below.

Zoey saw the thing fall and yelled in triumph. "Nice shooting Bill!" "No problem, but I don't think its dead." He replied. "Huh?" said Francis and then the door of the cathedral burst its hinges and out stomped a tank, in all its white muscled glory, followed by several normal infected. The group opened fire. Francis cut down a runner in a hail of bullets while Louis took several down. But the tank advanced apace. Even under the combined hail of bullets it came closer and closer…

The pain was what I felt when I came too. I had landed on a pew and a stake of wood had been driven through my stomach. I gingerly got too my feet and removed the foreign object from myself. Tossing the stake aside my one thought was of escape when I beheld the raging firefight just outside the doors. The Tank was putting on a good show but even I could see he was losing steam. "Aw hell" I moaned as the female of the group spotted me and turned her shotgun in my direction. The bowl of stagnant holy water on which I had been supporting myself vaporized and I fell back as a doorway behind my head became perforated by shot pellets. The tank took advantage of this and lifted the rock under which I kept the boys remains.

When the tank wound up too throw the rock at Zoey, Francis dove too catch her as the rock hit a weeping stone angel and sent it tumbling from its plinth. As the dust cleared Francis beheld the remains of someone dangling from the remnants of a car nearby. With a thrill of hatred and sorrow he recognized the ring on the hand… or at least what was left of the hand that hung connected by a few strings of muscle. He jumped and turned as he opened fire in the tanks back, piercing its thick skin and shattering its spine. The thing fell dead and Francis turned too the remaining zombie with a fury unmatched and a sadness so complete that he no longer cared about living. The Hunter would die.

I loped through the catacombs beneath the cathedral and passed many of my brethren who did not have the special abilities that I possessed or the reasoning power too remove themselves from harms way when the bullets started flying. They joined me without question like metal too a magnet. The hole in my belly and shoulders had closed over but my muscles were still working on removing the bullets. I winced as I moved. My guts were pulsing and writhing in an attempt to push the bullets out. Every 5 to 10 seconds one would ping on the floor but with every bullets my body spat out there was another still to be popped. I stopped at the entrance of a small alcove and knelt, panting, in front of it. From the bowels of the darkest corner came the sounds of soft weeping. I stopped panting and my less than special entourage followed suit. I knew that there was something more too fear here in this little stone crevice than there was above ground with those gun wielding psychopaths. I was about 5 feet from the most vicious thing not alive. Witches tend too attack survivors and humans only because the latter make noise and startle it. The smart thing too do in this situation was too back away slowly and quietly. But even if I did… well death by human would be cleaner and quicker than what ever species of death I would suffer if the witch got a hold of me. While they possessed the I.Q. of a rock, instinct played a major role in survival with any of the Normals, and right now their instincts must have been screaming be quiet and don't move because that was exactly what they were doing. Then I felt my body expel the last bullet. Ping. It hit the floor and bounced right into the witches leg. I stopped moving altogether and stopped breathing (Not that I needed to but still, it was a tense moment.) A growl and she was an inch from my face. Sniffing me like a dog she seemed satisfied with the knowledge I would not be edible and returned to crying in her fetal position. My little brush with death, brief as it was, still left me weak at the knees as I turned and ran away on silent feet.

The crypt door was open as the 4 made their way down. The smell of dead things, both old and new, was overpowering down here. Zoey hit her flashlight and the others followed suit as they walked deeper into the catacombs. The air got thinner and more stale the deeper they got and soon they had to take deep breaths to feel even remotely centered. That's when they heard it. A shuffle and a whoosh. Quick as lightning Zoey whipped around and smashed her gun into a charging zombies face. It stumbled back and shrieked its frustration. It charged again and fell back, unmoving, onto the damp catacomb floor as Bill placed a bullet between its eyes. The rifles report was magnified 100 time louder than normal in the tunnel. All assembled covered their ears. That did not blot out the next sound however. A wailing shriek reached them from far off. They all knew the sound and all assembled knew that it would be best if they called off the search and left. They had startled a Witch.

Authors notes: Sorry for the wait. Got lazy and thought I would drop it. But its back!

Your Ardent and Eager slave: Psychokinetic15