S2 E3 : 🛑 ZR 🛑 (Ch. 150)

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He stood behind me, his arms coming around mine like a protective shield from the outside world.

"Place your thumb right here," He pressed his thumb against mine, which forced the digit to lay flatly on the handle, "then, lean it against this finger."

The warm metal was now pressed between my index finger and thumb.

"Focus your right eye on the target."

I closed my left eye like I would with a gun, my arm stayed lowered until he was ready. I watched as the target began to have trouble cranking his escape ride since he'd have to use his bad knee to jumpstart it.

"Bend your elbow," He moved his hand up to my elbow and lifted my arm up, "level to your head."

I did as I was instructed, but Vasquez fixed it to the correct position he wanted it in.

"Once your arm is straight out, release your weapon."

The man finally got his four-wheeler started after a hot minute of struggling. I took a deep breath in and extended my arm outward. I released the cool metal from my grasp, not even believing I could throw something that far.

Yet, in a matter of seconds, the small weapon became the reason a man's back was arched forward from a sharp pain entering his spinal cord. Not where I was aiming, but it was a start.

"10K." Vasquez ordered the sniper very vaguely, since I didn't give a direct kill to the poor man.

With no more hesitation, 10K took a short second to aim and shot the man through the back of the head. Instantly, the four-wheeler slowed down to a complete stop as the body hung over the handlebars.

No gas was being fed to the engine, thanks to 10K and his trusty skill as a sniper.

"That was good." Vasquez praised me, "Go get the knife. Never waste them."

"Yes, sir."

I did a small salute with my pointer and middle finger before jogging towards the eliminated target. I ignored the feet rushing behind me, even after the sounds had decreased and I felt the rocks hit the back of my calves.

If it was a Z, 10K or Vasquez would've shot them before they ever reached me, and I didn't hear either weapon go off. Ignoring my surroundings, I grabbed the arm of my dead target and slung him off of the transportation.

I turned his dead weight over onto his stomach, not caring to see his face. People out in the open like this usually have war paint covering their faces anyway. As I bent down, I noticed the tan skin with gold shining from the beading sun in the corner of my (E/C) eyes.

Cassandra. Ignoring her presence, I placed my black combat boot beneath the thrown weapon while grabbing the handle of my black throwing knife. With one good jerk from my right hand, I retrieve the knife with no problem and no damage to the tip.

I turned around on my left foot's heel, stepping off of the dead corpse with my right foot. I crossed my arms over my chest with a knife still in my grasp. Just like Vasquez showed me, I kept the sharp tool in between my thumb and pointer finger.

"I can do this myself."

"Come on, (Y/N)." 10K called for me while Vasquez already had his back to me.

Not hesitating, I obeyed 10K's call and jogged back to him while Vasquez was already halfway there.

"Why did she follow me?" I questioned as we began to get closer to the shielded semi-truck.

Residents of this moving camp had made a human wall with metallic shields in front of their bodies, blocking everything of the apocalypse from the small community they built up.

What's given them such trauma? As we walked, I received no answer from the taller male at my side, but I sure as hell could feel Cassandra staring at us while we all walked. I can't lie, her eyes worried me.

Was she going to pounce on one of us? Why keep such proximity to us unless something bad was about to happen?

"Hey," I looked up when I heard 10K's deep voice speak up from my thoughts, "Are you okay?"

Why do they keep asking this? For a minute, I just stared up at him as we walked to the entrance. He never once looked me in my eyes to see if I'd lie to him. Instead those dark sapphires stayed ahead of us, watching out for unseen targets.

"I'll be okay." I answered simply, knowing he wanted the truth as well as I wanted to tell him what was going through my head.

But this wasn't the scene, nor the right situation. We have different matters to tend right now. Maybe tonight; maybe tomorrow. We entered through the wall of people, knowing they'd let Cassandra in when they saw she was one of us--even though she didn't look human or act like it.

Once inside their temporary made camp, I found Warren and Vasquez quicker than I found the other people of my group. I broke free from my walk with 10K, heading towards the two and the leader of this place.

I mean, I'm assuming he's the leader since his posture gave it away and the fact Warren and Vasquez is speaking to him.

"--Sam Cluster." He introduced himself at the same time I reached Vasquez's hostile side.

The male leader of my group had his gun ready to blow off Sam's head if he made the wrong move in front of Warren. I wiped the dirty blood on my pants before stuffing the knife inside the strap.

Sam didn't seem to pose a threat; or that of a threat that seemed too large for Warren to handle.

"Roberta Warren." Warren introduced herself before making me acquainted with Sam Cluster, "This is (Y/N) Thompson."

I don't know why but the sound of my last name made me cringe. There were two Thompsons in this group. I did a small wave to show acceptance while he nodded his head in acknowledgement for my presence.

"Your timing is what we might call fortuitous."

He places his large, calloused hands on his hips, somehow looking even more powerful in his own old-man looking way.

"Sometimes things work out." Warren agreed with the positive attitude.

And sometimes, things fail. Without us, though, more of his people would've fallen to the ground and kissed death.

"We're on our way to Edmonton, trying to outrun the fallout. How about you?"

Trying to run with the man that caused the fallout.

As our spokesperson, Warren answered, naturally, "Headed east too."

Warren looked around her surrounding area before beginning the next subject of the conversation, "This is quite the set-up you got goin' here."

People were armed, people were walking around and talking. They seemed to be at eased with everything.

"Yes, ma'am." Sam, of course, agreed with her praise, expressing just how proud he was of himself and the community he created as he looked behind him as well, "Pre-Z, I use to run long haul."

|| What matters most is how well you walk through the fire ||

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