Swinging her rifle strap over her shoulder, Beca closed her dorm door and silently padded her way down the long corridor.
It was 3 in the morning, and Beca had trouble falling asleep. She was having nightmares about the night her mother died. Beca had woken up in cold sweat and with tears running down her cheeks, gasping for breath, her mother's name still on her lips.
After unsuccessfully trying to fall back asleep, Beca had decided to check out the campus' shooting range and maybe work on her sharpshooting.
In less than five minutes, Beca reached the east side of the campus, and she saw the warm, familiar lights shining out of the windows of the shooting range building.
Trying to tame her messy bed-hair, Beca shouldered the door open and accidentally dropped her duffel bag. Ammo scattered everywhere, making pinging sounds as they hit the floor, creating a sharp, melodic sound that pierced through the silence of the night.
"Damn it," she swore and bent down to pick up her bullet shell casings that had scattered around her feet. She was so busy trying to pick every one of them up, she didn't notice the dark figure standing in the farthest corner of the range.
"Need some help?" the person called out and loped over with easy grace, but stopped abruptly when Beca, finally realizing that she was not alone, whipped her rifle off her shoulder and aimed it at the stranger. "Don't move," Beca snarled.
He put his hands up. "Easy," he said, smiling to show he was human. Beca lowered her rifle slightly but still on guard.
"Come out of the shadows to where I can see you!" she ordered.
Beca watched carefully as every aspect of the stranger's face was cast into the light. Brown hair, high forehead and an easy smile.
"I'm human, chill," he laughed and lowered his hands.
She sighed and stood up, completely lowering her weapon. Beca eyed him warily. What was he doing here at this time of the day? she wondered.
The guy sauntered over and bent down to help pick her bullets off the ground. "Just practicing my skills," he smiled, eerily answering her unspoken question. "I couldn't sleep," he explained.
He seemed like a nice enough guy. Beca smirked and picked three bullets up. "You too, huh."
The guy laughed. The sound was surprisingly loud in the quiet building. Beca winced, thinking that the sound might attract 'unwanted attention' from our undead friends.
He stuck his hand out in a polite, jaunty way. "Jesse Swanson," he smiled, with a twinkle in his eye.
Beca took his hand. "Beca. You smile a lot."
Jesse blinked, slightly confused by her sudden declaration. "Am I supposed to do something else?"
Beca rolled her eyes and stood up. With all her bullets back in their place, she ignored Jesse and brushed by him rudely. Optimistic people sickened her.
She put on her earmuffs.
Walking over to the first spot, she aimed her rifle and shot off three rounds, all of them hitting the bull's-eye. The sound was deafening.
Jesse had made his way over. "Wow," he gaped. "You're pretty good."
Beca ignored him. She shot two more rounds, again hitting the bull's-eye.
After a while of watching her, Jesse picked up his AK 47 and started shooting in the spot next to her. Neither said a word, concentrating on their targets.
The sound of their firearms were so loud, they had not notice the scuffling and moanings coming from upstairs.
AAAAAAAAND I'm back!
So how's this guys?
Hope you guys enjoyed this, although somewhat short. Got hooked on my Wreck This Journal lately, and only then gotten my inspiration.
What should happen next? Leave suggestions in the reviews! (:
I'm out. Be back soon.
xxxShay.