Don't Be Scared

S2 E3 : 🛑 ZR 🛑 (Ch. 149)

None of the transportations on the left side of the road showed any signs of weapons, but the people on the opposite end seemed to have enough ammo to take out a village and still go to war.

Yet, it only seemed to be one person doing all the raging bullets. Did his teammates die in the vehicle?

"Can't expect to travel through a valley without an ambush." Murphy added his unnecessary commentary as well.

He can never keep his mouth shut for too long, even if Cassandra is quietly rubbing his shoulders. Maybe we can breakout the duct tape again.

"Didn't anybody ever watch Westerns growing up?"

I rolled my eyes at this comment, keeping them forward once the insulting gesture was over with. Of course we did, but we don't relate everything to TV shows--which we should. The dead did rise in a matter of days.

"Does anybody remember that it's usually the asshole that won't shut up to die in the movie first? Or did we not watch the same thing?" I asked nobody in particular.

None of the people in my group answered back to me, but I didn't care nor did I want them to. It wasn't even a question that you answered with the name of the described movie. Individuals from vehicles on the left began to file out like ants exiting their base after it rains.

Above the semi-truck, in the sniper nest structure and around the front of the semi, the people began to unload their retaliation onto the enemies. For some reason, though, none were too good at aiming.

I could hear a front man shouting either threats or slurs at the opposing person, but I couldn't be completely sure from this distance. Another rumble of a transportation began to come up from behind the last vehicle on the left side, making all of us turn our heads.

"Four-wheeler, one passenger, and a spear." Warren described the upcoming challenge she was seeing.

You know, I bet if it was up to her, she'd just go through the burning car with the person driving the semi. It didn't feel like they'd have one man coming to assist them in a battle like this--even if it was secret backup--, so it must be another enemy coming for an attack.

The four-wheel-one-man bravely drove in between the three vehicles, aiming his spear at one and shooting the some of the semi's people. I saw a couple fall to their knees, but the single person made it out of there and up the hill, towards the smoking vehicle.

So, backup he is labelled.

"Not bad for a bunch of sitting ducks."

Warren chuckled at the strategies being used on the battlefield, growing admiration of power from both sides.

"Well, you think we should, I dunno, help'em?" Doc offered our assistance.

But to which side would we aide? We don't know which side is the good guy or which side is the bad guy. Just because we watch the semi innocently come upon the burning vehicle and the survivors defended their territory?

We don't know the whole story. The two could be feuding groups. Suddenly, Vasquez got in front of me, but reached his hand up to grab the barrel of 10K's rifle and lowered it. The scope was away from Warren's eyes in seconds.

"Think less like a missionary and more like a mercenary. Let's wait and steal the vehicles from the victor."

"We don't steal unless we have to, Vasquez." I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest.

And we help who we can. Warren nodded her head in agreement to my statement while handing the long-distance weapon back to the original owner.

"We may not be able to save the world, but we can save them."

Or at least attempt to save them from these people. But again, who really is the bad and good guy?

"10K and Vasquez, that way." She pointed in the direction of down the cliff, "Addy, you're with me. Doc, you watch him."

Warren side-eyed Cassandra's innocent--at the moment--form, "And her."

"What about me?"

I turned Warren's attention in my direction with a simple question. Her eyes studied my body language closely, searching deep within my eyes for anything that seemed even more damaged than a day ago.

"You're coming with us."

Vasquez placed a rough hand on top of my shoulder, showing his stubbornness.

Warren snapped her eyes to Vasquez's dark clouds once she heard the declaration, glaring at the other. They both wanted to argue about who and what I was going to be doing and staying beside.

"It'll be good practice for these."

I turned my head to look up at the newbie of our group, who was now taking his hand off my shoulder and bending down to unstrap throwing knives from his thigh. He straightened up his back and motioned for me to take the new toys.

I didn't touch them, though.

"Can I?" I automatically asked Warren for permission, wanting to accept the gift but not wanting to get me and Vasquez in deep water.

Warren nodded her head once, but she still looked unsure of Vasquez's independent decision to let me go with him and 10K along with her decision of giving me permission to take the weapons.

I think I would be okay with Vasquez--I mean, 10K is still going to be there with us. I immediately strapped the weapon tightly on my thigh so it wouldn't slide up and down, causing blisters or sores.

"Come on, (Y/N)."

Vasquez began to lead the descend down the cliff, showing 10K and I where to scoot and slide. I don't know if he only did this to piss Warren off since he didn't want to help these strangers, or if he did it out of the kindness of his small heart.

We skidded down the steep slope, keeping our backs protected by solid rock. The enemy was literally right beside us once we finished our journey downward, but they failed to notice until Vasquez took a failed shot at the man on the four-wheeler.

Surprisingly, he missed but the one being protected by the on-fire vehicle began to shoot at us before fleeing behind their spot. He was heading straight for another four-wheeler. The previous driver had went down towards the semi, leaving his partner in crime.

Warren and Addy would take care of the upcoming enemy. I stepped out from behind the rocks like the boys had done, staying on the orange dirt road. Before the man could even jump on top of the no-door transportation, Vasquez blasted a bullet through the man's kneecap.

It may have slowed him down, but he was still on the run towards his only source of escape. 10K was going to finish off the hit himself, but Vasquez tapped his shoulder before rushing to my side.

He slipped one of the throwing knives from my strap and placed it in my right hand.

|| Slow progress is still progress ||