Deacon St John|| Darkness before the light

I

Blood pooled around his body, as his breath slowly hitched. He eyes fluttered open and close as the scene around him unfolded. A screamer yelled, and he covered his eyes from the ear blasting sound. Freakers ran, slashing and biting at anything that moved. People ran around, fear consumed, not knowing what to do. Shots rang out, a sound of artificial rain. Deacon shakily put his hands to his abdomen, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Boozerrr!" He yelled horsely, hoping he could be heard over the gunfire and screaming. His breath hitched and he felt something he hadn't felt in forever. Fear. Fear that this would be it. A bullet. A bullet would take him down. "Boozerrr, Boozerr, fvck, Boozer!" Deacon screamed, his voice disappearing by the minute. He tried to move, pushing himself off the now bloodstained ground. "Someone..." He said his voice trailing off as he slipped on the bloody grass and fell to the ground. He couldn't keep his eyes open, but he needed to. He heard footsteps running towards him and prepared himself to be fight the freaker. It came at him fast, launching its claw like hand at his face. It tore across his cheek. He let out a scream of pain before lashing back. He held his ax high as he smashed through the creatures skull, blood cascading around him. Deacon yelled as more and more charged him. He moved his arm left and right, he ax connecting each time, rage fuelling him through the pain. "Die you fucking monsters!" He cried as he sliced a head clean off. He yelled for Boozer again, his eyes searching the field around him. Skizzo, Mike, and Rikki were off to his left, trying to take down a group of freaks that surrounded them. Deacon groaned at the pain in his side, but nevertheless, he pulled out his gun.
And let all hellfire loose.