Here's chapter three. More soon.
Chapter 3
Medic looked down at the body of 2nd Lt. John Danden. Blood was still pouring out of his ruined throat. He wasn't sure if he regretted what he'd done. It was necessary. But he couldn't help but feel pity. The man had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and now he was dead.
The sound of Bishop's voice in his earpiece broke him from his reverie. "Medic, report." He whispered sharply.
"Liability neutralized." He whispered back.
"Copy, Typhon holding position. Regroup."
"Medic en route." He whispered before the connection went dead. He stole one last glance at the dead soldier before popping the magazine out of the man's rifle, pocketing it in a small pack on his back, and retrieving the cartridge of the bullet he'd fired. With that complete, he began to make his way to the building Typhon was currently occupying.
Medic slipped between cover like a shadow. His boots making no noise on the cracked pavement. By the time he made it back to the building, the only evidence of his existence was a dead body. He ducked into an alley between two buildings and made his way to a side door. He slowly turned the handle, making no noise, before pushing the door open slightly and peaking through. Seeing that everything was as it should be, he eased the door open slightly more and slipped inside. Closing the door softly behind him.
He paused inside the door, listening closely, he heard the soft click-hiss of a lighter from upstairs. Looks like Jester's trying to settle in. After a last inspection of his surroundings, he began to move swiftly and quietly to the staircase to his left. He ascended the stairs just as quietly for several floors. Before finally leaving through the staircase door. This time, he let the knob click shut softly, to alert the others to his presence before continuing.
He emerged from a small hallway that led to a room facing the street. The far wall was comprised of floor to ceiling windows. Half the windows were destroyed, providing an excellent vantage point for firing. Looking around the room, his keen eyes were able to pick out the shapes of his teammates. Jester sat against a wall to his left, smoking a cigarette. Mentor was in the opposite corner of the room, furthest from Medic, with his gun trained on him. Bishop sat near one of the windows in front of him, but not close enough to be silhouetted.
Mentor lowered his gun upon recognizing his teammate. Jester nodded in greeting. Medic nodded back before making his way to sit against the far right corner of the room. So he would be able to watch the door, and he wasn't grouped together with his teammates. Making it difficult for an enemy to get the drop on them.
They sat in silence for several hours as the night began to grow old. They were about to start sleeping in shifts when Bishop whispered "Three Novembers incoming from the west."
"Uniforms?" Mentor asked.
"No, infected." Bishop replied. Medic made his way over to lay prone beside Bishop. Mentor moved to watch the door while Jester snuffed his cigarette.
"Do you think they took the bait?" Jester whispered.
"Looks that way." Medic replied. He and Bishop slowly eased their way towards the window in order to get a better vantage point. They activated the binocular function of their visors and observed the infected undetected.
"What have we got?" Mentor asked without looking away from the door.
"Three walkers." Replied Bishop.
"Any sign of Tango Primary?" Jester questioned.
"Negative." Medic stated. The walkers made their way towards the tank, attracted by the scent of human flesh. They then began trying to climb up the sides. A task their jerky movements made difficult. The team observed them for a while, until they got frustrated and began attacking the tank.
"Can I burn them?" Jester asked, seeming excited.
"No, you'll give away our position. Just because we can't see it. Doesn't mean it isn't there. If it gets wind of us, we're dead. Besides, the bodies weren't meant to attract it." Bishop responded.
"Copy." Jester said grudgingly. They waited, and several more infected arrived. All trying to break open the tank.
"How many?" Mentor questioned.
"Eight." Medic said.
"You think that's enough?" Jester asked.
"Negative. There are hordes of hundreds of these things wandering around. As well as hunters. It won't go after such easy prey." Medic stated matter-of-factly. They waited for nearly another day. The horde growing continuously. The team ate small, scentless rations every few hours and took turns on watch. Two people kept watch, two slept. Finally, the horde had grown in size until there were about eighty infected. Milling around in the intersection below.
They continued to watch until the crowd began to disperse. "Wake." Medic said. Since he and Bishop were on watch. The other two woke instantly.
"What is it?" Mentor asked.
"Show time." Bishop replied. Mentor and Jester were by the window in seconds, with Jester turned to watch the door. As they saw the crowd dispersing, they began to hear the thudding that they'd been anticipating. Then a roar was heard. Soon after, three hunters came into sight.
The hunters pounced on the tank. Trying to rip it apart with their claws. Their roars echoing down the streets. "Think that's enough noise?" Jester asked.
"Should be." Replied Mentor. Two of the hunter's accidentally slammed into each other trying to tip over the tank. A fight broke out. Their roars and snarls even louder than before. After a few minutes, a different roar was heard. Deeper and warbling. Shit. Medic thought. The roar was soon joined by another and soon two juggernauts came lumbering into the intersection.
"Well, that was unexpected." Jester said evenly. The two juggernauts eyed each other and sniffed. Then turned their attention to the two hunters trying to kill each other. Then to the one hunter still tearing at the tank. They looked back and forth for a moment, as if deciding what to do, before they both lumbered over to the tank and began pounding the metal into nothing. Soon, they broke through the armour and the smell of rotting flesh burst forth. The walkers chose food over personal safety and made a run for the tank. Only to get caught in the clash between hunters. Soon, all the infected were fighting over the contents of the tank.
"Might be better this way." Mentor observed. The team regarded the fight with interest. One of the hunters was crushed by a juggernaut. And most of the walkers were killed and eaten. The fight continued with no end in sight when Medic noticed something off.
"Bishop, look at the flyers." Medic said. As the horde had grown, and the scent of death had spread, a flock of flyers had appeared overhead. Bishop raised his head slightly to get a better look. The flyers didn't normally come close to the ground during combat. They were scavengers. But they could still be seen circling overhead.
At least, most were. One of them appeared to be flying straight through the flock. Getting closer to the ground as it went. "I see it." Bishop said.
"See what?" Jester asked. Still watching the door.
"One of the flyers isn't circling." Mentor answered.
"Could it be injured?"
"Doubtful, they heal too fast. It wouldn't be in the air if it was anyway." There was silence again as they watched the curious figure in the air. As it got to a position directly above the tank, it dove straight down.
"What the hell? That's too fast to be a flyer." Bishop announced.
"It could be a new mutation." Medic offered.
"It's possible. But keep your weapons ready. This doesn't feel right." The flyer continued it's head long dive. If it hadn't been moving so quickly, the team might have noticed it's wings vanish. Or the clawed arms beginning to form at it's side.