The Deadman

The shooter was faster. Robert flew four feet away from the recoil of that shot. Wilson was about to rush when Robert raised a hand to stop him from moving and signaled him to take cover. He was sure that Wilson's head would have been blown off if he didn't stop. Wilson however had a question.

“How come you’re not dead?”

“It’s called magic. I had a linen under here that withers any projectiles.”

“Useful, but not enough it seemed. It’s withering?”

The suit jacket he was wearing started to wither. Robert stayed still while trying to get some air into his lungs. That blow knock the air out of him.

“Can I help you in any way?”

“Try to distract that sniper. I need to roll out.”

“Anyone have sight of the marksman?”

“I got one, sir. Firing.”

Wilson signaled Robert to move. He rolled to his right, sprang up, and took cover not far from Wilson. He ripped off his coat, revealing his dress shirt and harness with weapons and magazines. The shotgun strapped on his chest.

“Jesus, you’re armed to the teeth. No wonder you’re wearing that damn coat in this kind of heat.”

“Dropped the rifle.”

“You want that? You got a lot already!”

“It’s the only long-range weapon we have. How’s your team?”

“They’re going after the shooter. So get comfortable.”

Robert reached out to his 1911, clicked the safety off, and pointed it down with his finger hovering above the trigger.

“You alright?”

“I’m not. That should have taken a lot of shots, but that one withered my coat away. If I wasn’t sturdy. The concussion would have knocked me out. I’m surprised I ain’t dead. That was a 50-cal, I think. I think I’m bruised.”

“Shit, I really need that kind of linen. Seems like a life saver.”

Robert squatted down while keeping his profile low. Wilson checked on his team. They were fighting the shooter in an apartment block. The noise behind the radio was loud enough to tell how hard the shooter was fighting back.

“I need sitrep!”

“We’re taking fire! He’s got a browning here!?”

“A what?”

“She’s got an MG and a grenade launcher, sir!”

They heard an explosion, the radio operator lost contact, and a new voice replaced the old one.

“She’s got an RPG, sir! She’s killing us!”

Robert swallowed. Agent Wilson’s head blanked out as he called his men, and asked for a description of the suspect.

“Woman around her twenties! She has dark hair with a some red  on it, sir!”

“Shit, try to pin that woman down, officer!”

“We’ll try.”

Robert exhaled. He silently processed what was happening and had a guess from what he heard from his radio.

“That woman?”

“Looks like it. Shit, I should have known that she-devil’s sniffing around.”

“Then let’s escape before she points her guns back to us.”

Wilson agreed. Robert hurriedly took the rifle back and started running down the hotel while reloading the rifle. As they arrived in the lobby. Robert flashed his badge on the receptionist.

“I need to find your security room right now!”

The receptionist complied and told them where the security station was. It was located in the basement below the hotel, on the farther left of the basement. The two barged in, raised their credentials, and took the tapes from the recorders. As he recovered the tape Wilson assured the security guards about the situation and told them to stay inside.

He was threatening them with something and after that they left through the front door where Wilson’s car was. Robert entered the passenger seat while Wilson grabbed the steering wheel.

“Where to?”

“Away. We need to go now!”

“And leave my team alone?”

Robert’s guts told him that this was a bad idea. But Wilson’s face told him that he wasn’t asking for permission. Wilson drove to the location of the shooter while calling for reinforcements. Robert tuned in to the frequency they were using.

Screaming and desperate shouting. They were calling for a medic. And the way they were speaking behind the radio made it clear they were rattled. He could hear that familiar and repeating noise of a browning machine gun laying down fire.

“She’s tearing them apart.”

“I can fucking hear it!”

Robert groaned. He checked his rifle, searched the back of Wilson’s car and wore the bulletproof vest over his dress shirt. Making it tight and tugged. He sheathed and unsheathed the dagger that Simone gave him.

He wore his earpiece and tuned it the frequency again. Wilson was shouting on his radio.

“Can anyone copy!? Can anyone just answer me!?”

No one replied back to him. Robert saw in the distance the armored car and the black sedans they were using. The closer they were, the more panicked the people were. Cowering behind cover of what made them feel safe.

There was no fighting. Robert couldn’t hear any guns firing. The silence around the apartment where their shooter was firing at made Robert groan. Robert tried to focus, but the carnage on the street made him unable to use his senses all at once.

“Fuck!”

Wilson slid his car to the alley. He went out of his car, grabbed the assault rifle on his truck, and pocketed four magazines on his coat. Robert grabbed his assault rifle.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m fucking sure. You saw what they did to my team. Can you scale the apartment? I’d try to go to the emergency exit. If you find her. Just shoot. It’d be beneficial for us.”

“And get picked off by a woman who managed to take down your team? No. We’re sticking together. I know that you’re angry right now. This woman just butchered your team and left them bleeding on the road. So we need to be together. If we’re alone she’d tear her apart.”

“I know that,” he punched the railing. “Shit, okay, let’s not split off. But we need to shoot on sight. I doubt that this rabid woman would talk and speak with us.”

Robert agreed. She already tore through Wilson’s team. She fought them off and somehow won despite being alone. From the looks of it she wasn’t outgunned and she knew what’d happened if they came to where she was. Instead of running away, she fought like a mad woman. Robert could tell that the main entrance was rigged with explosives. And most of the bullet holes were on the roof of the car which only meant that she had a good line of sight of everyone. The back of the apartment was also busted and from the looks of it someone already broke the lock of the emergency exit.

Robert scanning his surroundings made Wilson notice these details as well. It was quiet, but there were tell-tale signs that the shooter was just waiting to tear anyone who was after her.

Wilson calmed himself and nodded. He took the lead, entered the emergency exit, and climbed the staircase leading up with Robert following from behind with his pistol.

As they headed up they realized that the lights on the third and fourth floor were off. Moving silently, Robert cleared the room first before letting Wilson in.

Wilson signaled Robert with his hand silently. Robert followed his lead and started clearing the rooms. Doing their best not to make any sound that would show their location.

Robert focused and used all his senses at once. He saw a lot of people glowing red faced down. He looked to his left and caught sight of a figure silently pointing a weapon at them.

Grabbing Wilson by the collar, he threw him back to the emergency exit, and took a dive behind a concrete wall. The browning tore through the concrete wall, he crawled away from the machine gun fire.

“Die!”

Robert saw Wilson fire in the direction where the machine gun was firing. The shooter swung the barrel to Wilson. Agent Wilson was almost gutted by the gunfire.

Robert heard a click. He  took aim with his pistol and emptied a mag in the direction she’s shooting. He looked at Wilson who was hit on the sides.

“Get the fuck away from here now! Go get reinforcements and get yourself patched up!”

Wilson pressed on his wounds, gritted his teeth, and nodded. He started retreating before he bled out. Robert focused all his senses at once. Through the walls he could see the outline of the shooter dropping the rest of her guns and taking out her knife. She brought out her pistol with an extended magazine, tore something out of her harness and lobbed it towards him.

Robert hurried out of his cover while firing his rifle. He wasn’t used to a bolt-action so in the end he threw his rifle to the side and started retreating. When the fragmentation grenade exploded. He could hear the shrapnel tearing through the furniture.

He heard a shotgun being loaded. He dived down, tore the shotgun from his chest, and fired it in the shooter’s direction. It became quiet. Robert loaded his shotgun and took a peek out of cover.

He focused all of his senses at once. Scanned the apartment room and took a look to his right and saw a figure moving nimbly on the side of the window.

The glass broke. Robert raised his shotgun only to see a thrown lever-action smashing his wrist, making him let go of his weapon. Robert drew his dagger and barely avoided the tip of a knife with his forearm blocking the attacker's wrist.

A disheveled bloodied hair. Crazed look with eyes warping. Teeth gritted as if she was a canine that was about to bite his throat out. Robert was sure that if he didn’t have the strength of two souls. That knife would have carved his eye.

“Not going to say anything, Oz?”

“Who?”

She stabbed her knife forward. Robert pushed his knife that was being blocked by her forearm on her neck as well. Blood was dripping on his face. Robert’s head was aching just by looking at her face. He could remember who she was now and it was troublesome.

“Only took a few years to forget eh?  Really thought you were going to be loyal. Then you left and took from us. You shot him.”

“Didn’t even know. I didn’t steal from you. I don’t remember.”

She tilted her head. She grinded her teeth so hard that he could hear them. She yanked her knife out and tried stabbing him on the chest. Robert kicked her in the abdomen, rolled backward, and hastily pulled his pistol out. He pulled the trigger. The shot didn’t hit her. He saw one of the buttons she was wearing withering. There was eight charms that haven't withered on her clothes yet.

“I GAVE YOU MY TRUST AND INNOCENCE OZ! WE TRUSTED YOU!”

Robert shot again, something withered, but she rushed up and started swinging her knife. Robert dodged, blocked, and grabbed her wrist. He tried elbowing face, she ducked down, slash at his stomach, and then tried to stab him in the shoulders.

He tried to take his other pistol out, but she threw herself at him and growled at him like a beast. Her free hand pinning his off-hand while the other trying to drive her knife on his neck.

Robert slammed his forehead on hers. Pointed his other pistol at her stomach and planted seven rounds on her stomach. Six of the rounds withered the charm on her body, the seventh went through her stomach.

But she was a beast unleashed. She slammed her knuckles on Robert’s face, followed it with another on the jaw. Robert blocked her next punch with his forearm, and punched her on the jaw.

She took a knife out of her boot. Tried to stab it straight in Robert's eye. Robert raised his left forearm to block the knife. He could see the knife’s tip passing through his forearm.

“And they said you didn’t know how to fight up close, mi amor!”

She palmed the knife on his forearm. Grabbed hold of his collar and slammed her forehead on his head. Robert gritted his teeth, jabbed his fist at her throat and made her recoil. Hurriedly, she took something out of her belt, aimed it at his stomach and shot him below the diaphragm.

Without the linen, Robert felt the bullet tore his stomach. Robert rolled on his spine, stood up, positioned himself near a window, and then watched as she tried to pounce on him like a rabid dog.

Grabbing her by the throat, he swung his body around and threw her off the window. He could hear something landing on a car. He clutched his stomach in pain, reached out for his pistol, reloaded it, pulled himself up and aimed his sights down.

He saw the car where she fell but there was no sight of her. He heard a motorcycle revving followed by gunshots. And when the adrenaline ran dry. His knees gave in and he pressed on his stomach, enduring the pain, trying to call for some help, but he was unable to because of the gunshot wound. He couldn’t even straighten his body because of the pain.

He heard footsteps approaching and when he saw black boots. 

His vision faded black.