I sit in the small office, watching Doc, a big African American man in his early fifties, carve away at a block of wood. Shadow stands beside me, keeping her gun leveled at Doc’s head. “Sweetheart, if you want your friend to have two arms again, I would appreciate if you’d put your gun down,” he says nicely over his shoulder. I nod at Shadow and she lowers her gun. About three hours later Doc has carved the general shape of the arm. “Son, you do realize that roboprosthesis is virtually impossible without electricity, right?” he asks. I nod, but I already have a theory. If Doc could somehow hook up the arm to my brain, the electric synapses could power it. Granted, if the arm got lost, I could die. Doc wasn’t necessarily a doctor, he was an electrician. He can probably help me. “Okay, let’s hope you are smart, kid,” Doc rolls up my sleeve. What came next, I couldn’t dream of. The pain is blinding. Doc is hooking up my brain to the arm. I scream in agony, tears streaking my face. This almost feels as horrible as when I lost my arm. After what felt like ages, he finishes. “Okay, son. Time to test it out. Can you move your fingers?” Doc asks. I nod and make a fist, smiling. I move my entire arm, enjoying it. I have an arm!
Shadow smiles and kisses my cheek, making me blush lightly. I move it around. Stiff, a little awkward, but I have an arm. I stand up and move my fingers again. “Thanks Doc, how can we repay you?” I place my hand on the guy’s shoulder thankfully. “Repay me? How about leave?” he laughs a big, hearty laugh, like a guy coughing into a megaphone. I nod and take Shadow’s hand, leading her outside of the small building. The quiet and peace is broken by a single gunfire, then multiple shots. Shadow throws me to the ground, then draws her gun, firing back at the shooter. It is only one man firing at us, but he is packing some serious weaponry. He is firing at us with an M4A1 assault rifle with a bunch of attachments. Strapped under his arm pits are two TEC-9’s, and at his side is a .44 Magnum. Yikes. There is a flash from Doc’s building, and the Hunter falls to the ground, dead. Doc walks out with a smoking hunting rifle in his hands. The little green shack on Bourbon Street, the home of our first soldier.
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Survivors: W4R
Paranormal[COMPLETED] The war between the Group and the Hunters is official. Rian and his friends keep trekking through America, meeting new friends, new soldiers, and protecting their cause. The remainder of the Group is overthrown with rage from the Attack...
