Crow's Nest

02: First Meeting

Several sharp gunshots roused Hinata from his slumber and he bolted upright, fingers fumbling for his gun as his eyes flew around wildly, seeking the threat. He slid over to the window and peered down at the street far below, eyes piercing through the rain. His eyes widened and he gripped his gun tightly, staring down out the window in disbelief. The street was completely covered by a wave of zombies, packed so tightly together, barely an inch of asphalt was visible between them. How had a horde of this size formed so quickly?

Packing up his stuff and shoving it all in his bag, Hinata readied his gun and made his way back to the stairwell, crawling his way to the very top and breaking free into the rain on the roof. He slid onto his stomach at the edge and used his scope to peer down at the horde. He was too far up for them to notice him, and they appeared to be drawn to something a few meters down the block. Hinata trailed his scope far to the left and focused on what seemed to be the object of their attention: a large estate surrounded by a sparking electric fence.

"That must be what's attracting them," he muttered to himself. As more gunshots were fired from the mansion into the crowd of undead, Hinata located the shooter: a black-clad figure hunched low over a protruding window, sniping all the zombies he could get his hands on. As he kept shooting, four more individuals exited the house and approached the gate, firing their own guns out into the horde.

Hinata pushed himself to a sitting position and slung one leg over the edge of the roof with a morose shake of the head. No way they'd make it with that many corpses headed their way. He felt sorry for them. Then again, they really should've known better than to have an electric fence. Zombies were attracted to high pitch frequencies, and the electric storm would've amplified the hum of the fence by at least ten percent.

They were probably most definitely doomed, but... he couldn't just let them die. Even though Hinata knew helping others was stupid and would only get him killed, every time he thought about leaving a helpless survivor alone, he pictured his sister's face and couldn't bring himself to abandon them. Sympathy was idiotic, but... he would want someone to help him if he were in the same situation, wouldn't he?

Even though he was afraid, Hinata went back downstairs and packed up his things, heading down the back stairwell to avoid the horde. As he headed through the rain-soaked streets, he kept his eyes sharp, sweeping the surrounding area for danger. It was hard to keep focused in the rain, not to mention there was a zombie mob only a block away. He still wasn't used to them, even after three years.

Hinata couldn't even remember the last time he'd come across another survivor... He'd migrated south straight from Kasugai to Nagoya two months earlier and hadn't encountered a single soul. It made him wonder if there were any other people out there at all... Though apparently, there was—although he wasn't sure they were the brightest, considering the electric fence. The sniper on the roof seemed good enough: every shot he made went straight through the skull, sometimes two or three at once.

Shaking condensation from his hair, Hinata wrapped a long blue scarf around his head, concealing his hair, nose, and mouth for extra camouflage. Pausing by the shattered glass front of a construction shop, he snagged a sledgehammer, figuring it couldn't hurt to have another close-range weapon in case he lost his machete. With the extra protection, he felt a bit safer moving through the dark streets towards the mansion. The only problem that remained was how he would get past that electric fence...

As if the earth heard him, a loud boom of thunder sounded from above, and when Hinata tilted his head skyward, a large, stark bolt of lightning cut the heavens in half, striking the fence in a brilliant arc of flying sparks and hissing snakes of electricity battling for dominance. The fence lost out in a dazzling explosion of flare-like pinpricks of light, bathing the wet concrete in fizzling silver specks.