The Last Of 𝓗𝓮𝓻 ིᖭ༏ᖫྀ 𝐸𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑒 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓂𝓈

ALWAYS.

MONTH: NOVEMBER

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THE moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale light over the compound, illuminating the shadows that danced around her. Jocelyn crouched behind the gate, her heart pounding in her chest as she peered through the cracked slats, every instinct screaming for her to prepare. "They're coming!" she shouted, adrenaline surging through her veins, a cold sweat forming on her brow as she gripped her weapon tightly.

Tommy, his jaw clenched in determination, adjusted his grip on his rifle, the muscles in his arms tensing as he scanned the darkened horizon. "Hold your fire until they get closer!" he barked, his voice steady despite the chaos. "We can't waste ammo—we need every shot we can get."

The sound of shouts and gunfire echoed in the distance, growing louder as six trespassers rushed toward them, weapons drawn and faces twisted with urgency. Jocelyn could see the desperation in their eyes—a wild, frantic fear that spoke of hunger and hopelessness. A pang of sympathy struck her, but it was quickly swallowed by the cold reality of the moment: survival came first, and there was no room for hesitation.

"On my mark!" Tommy called, steadying his breathing. "Three... two... one... now!"

As if on cue, the trio opened fire. The sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the night, bullets flying toward the intruders, some striking true and sending one attacker crashing to the ground. Jocelyn felt a brief surge of satisfaction as she saw the figure fall, but it was short-lived; more were pouring in.

"Reloading!" Eugene shouted from his position, crouched behind a nearby crate. Jocelyn watched him fumble with his ammunition, his hands unsteady as his eyes darted around, desperately searching for a clear shot amidst the chaos.

"Focus, old man!" she yelled, her voice cutting through the cacophony as she fired off another round, the recoil jolting her shoulder. The urgency of the moment fueled her determination to hold their ground.

But before Eugene could make a witty response, an attacker leaped over a fallen comrade, barreling toward them and slipping through a slit in the gate. Without thinking, Jocelyn pivoted and shot, the sound echoing in her ears. The figure collapsed, but the distraction had cost her precious seconds.

"Watch out!" Tommy shouted just as another trespasser lunged at Jocelyn, knife glinting in the early light. She barely had time to react, instinct kicking in as she sidestepped and swung her rifle like a club. The weapon connected, and the attacker fell to the ground.

"Get down!" Eugene yelled, suddenly firing from his position. A barrage of bullets flew overhead, and Jocelyn dove instinctively, her heart racing.

And just when she thought they should retreat and call for backup, Tommy lept over his cover and shot the last two figures in the head with such rapid speed it was almost terrifying, Eugene coming in as backup, taking the last guy from behind while he was in shock from watching his friends die, Eugene snapping his neck with a swift headlock, the body going limp and tumbling to the floor.

"Fuck." Jocelyn shudders, grimacing, before standing from behind her crate. She looked around at the five trespassers who broke through with an odd feeling in her chest. 'Killing people never gets easier.'

"Alright!" Eugene shouted, heaving one of the dead trespassers over his shoulder. "Let's get these bastards outside the gate with their other friends." His voice was a mix of irritation and grim determination, the adrenaline still coursing through him as he moved to haul the body away.