Hunter and the Hunted (Septiplier)

~~ CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO ~~

His look then changed again, determination flickering over his features. He wasn't going to give up that easy but god I wish he would. I wish he was capable of helping himself but if he's trying to keep me here, he isn't doing a very good job at it. I wish that he would understand that he doesn't need me and that I would only slow him down, and that I don't want that for him because god I love him so much... I love him so bloody much that it hurts my heart to contemplate letting him go but it will be worth it because I'm nothing but a destraction, something that will trip him up and hold him to the ground.

He didn't say anything else as his gaze shifted back to the two men standing before the both of us, and he never looked back when the door re-opened revealing Dan and Ken, tear tracks staining both of their faces, the sun catching at the glass like film set across their eyes.

My fault.

He didn't turn when a hurt looking TJ stummbled from the door after them, being helped along by a troubled Cry, tiny cuts and bruises littering their faces from the glass explosion. A ghost flying between the two as the memory of Wade floats from body to body.

My fault.

Although I'd have to wait on blaming myself until later, because right here, right now, neither side of this battle field was going down without a fight, and if its a fight Markus and Jonathan want, a fight they'll get.

I thought it would be easy, like it would be a piece of cake but when is anything ever easy? Because as I prepared for things to get a little messier than they already were, I saw them, all of them, coming into focus from the treeline. Dead. At least a hundred of them.

"Guys?" Phil gathered the attention of everyone as he noticed what I had just moments before him.

"What?" Ken asked, glancing away from the two for a second and letting his eyes travel in the direction of Phil and I's.

"Shit."

"Looks like this could be fun after all, right boys? And, ahh, girl."

"Fuck up." Mark growled in their general direction, not taking his eyes from the swarm that stood before us. There were too many, we hadn't fought this many before. Well, I hadn't.

"What's the plan, Jack?"

I turned quickly in the direction of Dan's voice, eyes watching me as if I had all the answers, but I don't. I had no idea what we were going to do about this now. I was afraid, not of dying, but of losing them.

"Stand together. Kill anything or one that are against us!" I shouted, looking back to the dead slowly shortening the distance between them and us.

"Look after one another, and watch yourselves!"

The first one to do anything was Markus, the bastard, he pulls a gun and aims it towards TJ who gasps at the sudden threat, but gets hastily pushed to the side by Cry as the bullet flys past them both and lodges itself I to the wall behind them.

Mark pulls a handgun from his belt and aims it toward the heard headed our way, and after hearing the gun shot, the were moving faster than before. They'd be here in no time at all.

"Gun!" I shout, watching Phil pull a knife and stand in front of Markus as he aimed his gun back on TJ again. Ken ripped his gun from its hold and threw it in my direction before unclipping his machete and holding it up ready to attack.

Mark and I both begin to shoot out on the direction of the dead, shooting down the front row yet barely making a dent in their group, watching as they progressed further forwards. I turn quickly just in time to see Markus now pointing the gun at me, causing me to close my eyes and brace for impact but the only thing I notice is the sound of the shot. Had he missed?

I opened my eyes again and watched as Mark sunk down to his knees in front of me, his hand over his upper chest as he fell forward a little and landed on his free hand, holding himself up with every ounce of strength he had.

"No!" I scream as I run quickly to his side, holding his face in my hands and looking him all over frantically trying to find where the bullet hit.

"No, no, no,no ,no..." Was repeated to myself over and over as I moved his hand to see blood pour from his shoulder and against his shirt.

A sigh of reliefe washed over me... He would be okay.

"You're gonna be okay, you'll be just fine," I tried to reassure him as his scared expression captivates my gaze.

I let my eyes shift to Phil who was no on top of Markus and trying to get in a few solid punches, his knife disguarded to the side, but Phil wasn't a fighter, and after a few seconds Markus had found the upper hand and was beating poor Phil in the chest, aiming his gun and pressing the barrel to his ad before Dan jumped in and ripped Markus off of him. Dan called something to him before Phil grabbed his knife, jumped up, and ran behind the building.

"Come on, come on I'll help you up."

I lifted Mark to his feet and staggered back a few steps, looking to the heard that was now being slightly controlled by Ken and Cry who were both stabbing and shooting the shrinking group.

"Can you still shoot?" Mark nodded and I helped him stumble to a wall rant would keep him stable whilst he was shooting.

"Here, take this too, just incase you run out."

"Jack, you need it, you need to keep yourself safe, stop trying to kill yourself! You're only hurting everyone else! Please, just hold onto it!"

I stood for a short moment taking in his words, flashbacks of silver slit arms reatign in my vision, before shaking my head and throwing the gun to his feet and running off to help the others.

Ken had abandoned his previous position and was now wrestling with Jonathan on the ground, punches being thrown at ever spare second. Jon was a skilled fighter, but he and Ken were pretty evenly matched, both skilled  and well trained. Ken though was self trained, and I had no idea of Jon's background.

"Just give up!" Markus shouted in Dan's face as he throws another punch causing Dan to stumble, and when he does, Markus took his chance and sliced him across the chest, a scream of pain echoing through the air causing Cry to quickly jump into action after him, tackling Markus as he reached across the ground for his gun. Both men were fighting for it, and I was almost certain that Cry would lose, but man did I have faith in him. He would be the one to save us all, because he's a lot stronger than he lets on.

Mark was still shooting at the hoard of dead moving towards him still, but now they were dramatically less. There had to have only been a third of what was there to begin with, and as his gun clicked on empty, a large black truck roared around the side of the building and rammed straight into them, Phil sitting in the drivers seat, jumping out and running to the now wounded Dan.

"Dan!" he shouted as he slid down beside him, dragging  him away from the tangled mess that was Markus and Cry.

Cry delivered a final punch to Markus' face before finally dislodging the loaded weapon from his hold and staggering to a stand, his brown hair damp against his forehead and his breaths deep and withered.

A cry of pain was heard from behind me as I spun and watched Jonathan pull his knife back from Ken's head, blood slipping off of the blade as he stood. I saw red, not just the blood but anger, fierly dangerous anger and I jumped forwards delivering a sharp punch to his chest winding him, and kicking him in the head as he sank, his knife clattering to the side just within my reach allowing me to grab it tightly and hold it to the wheezing man's throat before a bang echoed around us all. Markus slumped to the ground, and Cry fell to his knees letting the gun fall as well.

There was silence across the entire centre of the field the building was built it, far umongst the trees and kept out of sight, the same building I had been tortured in, and Wade had been murdered in. The same field my family had been wounded in and our enemy had been beaten in. The field, unlike us, would go on forever to hold a thousand emotions good, and bad.

Mark was still lying against the tin wall, Phil was holding Dan as they both sat in the dirt. Ken was lying face down on the ground, me having no idea whether he was alive or dead, Cry was standing over the lifeless body of the man he once trusted, and here I am, holding a blade against the throat of the man whom had hurt me so much...

But where was she?