Chapter 15

Nikole Hammond

I rammed another clip up into my rifle, securing it before hammering away at the skyline of a building. He had already shot once. I wasn't going to give him a second chance. Not after...not after the first one he made.

Salone came dashing over, pulling the pistol out of his back pocket and aiming it up at the building, firing off a few nervous shots. His aim went wide, bullets hitting several feet below the edge of the roof. It was as if Salone had never even shot a gun before. He was only holding it with one hand, posing as if he was some idiot off of a movie. He really was an idiot, thinking what he saw on tv was the same thing as real life.

His pistol started clicking after only a few rounds. Dropping it, he ran quickly over to me, ripping open the other backpack and rummaging around in it. Looking back up at the building roof, I saw a grey cylinder-like object go flying over the edge. I jumped to my feet, backing up several feet before studying it. It didn't look like any type of hand grenade that I had ever seen...but then, it happened. It exploded. Everything went white. I was blinded, but instead of everything being dark, my vision was filled with a searing white light. As soon as I had been blinded, an ear-shattering noise followed. It felt like my eardrums had exploded. I couldn't hear anything but a loud ringing, everything else was completely cut off. My eyes, my ears, they hurt so bad...I dropped my gun, closing my hands over my ears and shutting my eyes tight. I stumbled around, cursing and shouting. I stopped suddenly when I felt a cold metal tube pressed into my chest. I held my breath. My heart frozen. Opening my eyes, I found my vision starting to come back. Blurred objects shifted lazily across my eyes, still trying to recover from the sudden light that I had seen. Most of my sight was taken up by the image of a thin face, spruced with what I thought was blonde hair. His jaw moved lazily. I couldn't tell what he said. He jabbed the tube again, what I could now distinguish as a barrel. Removing my hands from my ears, I could now hear him speak.

"On the ground. Now."

I did as I was told. I lowered myself slowly, getting on my knees and putting my hands behind my head. Looking up briefly, I could see him more clearly now. He had a thin, handsome face, with short blonde locks of hair curling their way down his forehead. He had a small nose, set in between two light green eyes. He had large lips for a guy as well. His boyish demeanor almost made him look fruity. But the big gun in his hands changed all that.

It was large. From the size of the barrel and the feed tube under it, I could tell it was a shotgun. It was the largest I had ever seen though. The words "Browning Automatic" glinted off the side, the glare hurting my still-strained eyes. Tilting my head upwards slightly, I caught another glimpse of his eyes. They met my own. For a brief moment, our eyes were locked. His face softened, his posture went lax. At the sound of a voice behind him though, he tensed up again.

"Well, hello hello Mike. What did we pick up?"

The shotgun guy, (Mike it seemed) turned at the sound of the voice. Looking past his legs, I could see who the other person was. My eyes traveled up his legs...his chest...his face...

He looked about as gruff as his voice was. He had the shadows of a dark brown goatee. His hair was dark brown as well, large tufts sticking back behind him, giving his hair the appearance of being a furry hedgehog. Even behind hin, it fanned out in downward spikes. Looking back into his face, I studied his eyes. They were light grey. It was wierd for me. I had never before seen grey eyes. He saw me studying him, and I dropped my gaze from his eyes. His lips curved upwards, forming a small smile as he spoke.

"I would advise that you refrain from staring me up. I'm quite taken."

I blushed, looking away. Mike's feet shifted slightly as he cleared his throat.

"So um...what do we do with her?"

Mike had a bit of a high-pitched voice. Boyish, just like his face. I caught myself looking at him again. I turned my gaze over to the other guy. He said nothing, but instead approached me. Stopping just a foot or so in front of me, he offered me a hand, helping me up.

"My apologies, for my...uncalled for introduction, earlier. My name is Trent Lockewood. And this, is my...er...companion, Mike Realton. And you might be...?

I let out a quick sigh before speaking. Glancing off to my right, I noticed that Salone just happened to be no where in sight.

"My name is Nikole. Nikole...Greyson."

Looking into his eyes, I winced slightly, registering the fact that he knew I had lied.

"I see...I erm, hate to be blunt in my asking, but I must press a question of mine. When you appeared in our view, you were accompanied by two males, and one...one infected. I regret to inform you that I have terminated the infected male, but I am curious: Where might the other two be?"

"I don't know, Trent. Salone makes himself scarce whenever it suits him, and the big russian is probably somewhere close enough to rain enough lead on you to cover a third world war. You want to know what I'm so curious about though? Why the hell did you shoot Josh? Why, Trent? Why did you kill him?"

I made an advance towards him. He took a small step back, unshouldering a large rifle from behind his back. A sniper rifle...

"My dear woman, please do not upset yourself. There was no hope, prolonging his life would only have made him suffer more. I gave that man a blessing. He is in a far better place than he would have been if he had remained. Now, I ask of you to consider my question. It is in your best interest to do as I say. I do not wish to make this an involuntary ordeal."

Sighing, I dropped my eyes. I felt abandoned, like this. Salone had ran off on me, and Alex...Alex hadn't been there. He hadn't come to save me, to protect me...protect me like he said he would. After what had happened on the train, he had sounded so sincere. He sounded...he sounded just like everyone else in my life had sounded.

A gurgling sound made me look up. Trent spun around to look at Mike. His face had gone pale, his eyebrows raised and his eyes widened. There was an arm wrapped tightly around his middle, a second pressing a large knife into Mike's throat. Over his shoulder, I could see Alex's face. Alex...Alex, who was there.

"Drop your gun, or I svear to you that I vill cut this man's throat out and strangle you with it."