Descent into the Abyss

Chapter 50

Two shots fired off and struck the back of their target, blood spraying outward as the projectiles shredded through their body. Blake cried out in pain, his knees buckling with the weight, his body falling forward.

"Wh---" the Detroit grunt on his left began, another two shots ending his question.

Blake rose from the pavement, pushing the corpse off of him with a grunt.

"A little warning next time?" He asked, turning back towards Nathaniel's body.

Blake paused, taking in the karma induced scene, and shook his head. Satisfying as it was to see Nathaniel's corpse, it didn't bring back the General or anyone else that had died tonight.

"Thanks," Blake offered, nodding to the young man standing behind Nathaniel.

"That was too close," Marcus replied, pushing Nathaniel's body away as he removed the black blade from his torso.

Nathaniel slumped down into a pile of limbs and vanity, his heartbeat growing weaker with every second. Marcus wiped the blood from the blade, sheathing it afterwards to retrieve the rifle.

"Here," Marcus offered the rifle to Blake. "As soon as you see them, shoot and I'll get to that rooftop as fast as I can."

Blake nodded, casting a glance down to the corpses before turning his attention back to the commotion ahead. With a slight jog, Blake approached the noise, aiming with weary caution. With no idea where the colonists or threats were, Blake kept his finger off the trigger.

"Hurry up, boys," He whispered, sweeping his optic through the darkness of the streets.

With the collapse of society, and the decay of many perishable goods, batteries became precious, yet temporary solutions to fight the darkness. Even now, a simple flashlight could help with the dark streets and unknown situation Blake walked up to, but a bright light in the dark would only make him more of a target. His mind jumped to his missions of the past, when his squad utilized night vision scopes and goggles. A jingle came to the front of his mind as a smirk rose from his lips, although a Klondike wasn't what he wished he had in this moment.

Sudden shuffling movement preceded a yell, giving away the outer positions of the group.

"Get off me, asshole," A young man yelled out, pushing away an armed grunt. "You're lucky you have that gun."

The grunt slid the rifle back behind him, his fists lighting up with flames, "Yeah? What's your excuse now?"

The young man charged the Detroit grunt, two shots stealing his life as a second grunt walked into the luminescence of the flames.

"Stop taunting the prisoners, Ryder, or you'll be the next one I put down," A gruff voice growled, Blake barely able to hear it over the screams of a woman as she rushed forward to the lifeless body.

Blake's jaw clenched as he dropped to one knee, aiming at the older man as he turned back around. He deduced the older one to be more battle conditioned, possibly another veteran, and therefore more of a threat. His finger dropped to the trigger, clenching it twice to mimic the young man's death as two shots ripped through his back. Snapping to the disappearing flames, Blake fired twice more dropping the instigator as well.

A moment of silence as shock and reality set in. A group surged towards the dropped guards, stripping them of weaponry while a few ran towards Blake. Surprise, happiness, confusion all met him as the colonists got closer, shouts coming from nearby. With a glance to the armed colonists, he motioned towards the nearest shouts and moved forward.

"Go check on Davy and Ryder!" One man yelled into the night, a shuffle of footsteps and flashes of light as sparks fired off.

Dozens became hundreds, growing with intensity until an orb of crackling light floated in the palm of a hand. Without warning, Blake fired twice into the chest of the wielder. There was no time to waste, nor spend asking questions.