Lockey vs. the Apocalypse by Meadows, Carl (love novels in english .TXT) 📗

women were being held captive. With ten of those twelve executed, it was obvious that Bancroft had probably dragged all his remaining captives out as human shields. The barn was dark and the door ajar, so my part of the plan was pretty much done as of now. I was hovering about on a window ledge with no direction.

So, like the genius strategist I am, I decided to go into the house. Swinging over to the shooter’s window, I swept into the shredded room, the plaster of the walls dotted with evidence of the frag shards, the floor blasted apart in the corner where the grenade had ended up.

Quickly scanning the room, I found the shooter in a bad way. Oh, he was dead, but hell, that grenade had shredded him. He was also beginning to reanimate.

You know, I really hate that. These fuckers get up so damn fast.

The thing wasn’t yet on its feet though, so I slipped the pick hammer from my belt and brained the creature before it could cause me any issue. I couldn’t have done the required climb with the rifle slung around me and remain in stealth mode, so my rifle had been left behind. Soldier boy, however, must have inadvertently shielded his SA80 from the frag blast with his body, as his was untouched and in full working order. I confiscated his rifle and the two spare magazines he had with him, then decided to hunker down and wait. I knew the next part of Nate’s plan and I wasn’t going to mess with his reaper mojo. My part, for now, was done.

It was probably no more than ten minutes before the house went dark. I’d been expecting things to blow up and the rattle of gunfire to go off as Nate went mental, but instead Nate had decided to go in quiet and take out the power at source. I found out later he’d cottoned on to an ally in the house, moving the cameras to allow us to get in unseen. His name is Isaac and we’ll get to our new friends soon, but with this new knowledge, Nate had adapted his plan on the fly to use that advantage.

A little more time passed before I heard the sniper’s radio go off as one guy was shouting at someone to respond, though no answer ever came. Strike one for Nate.

A couple of minutes later, the guy named Isaac came over the airwaves in a spectacular Oscar-worthy performance in a supporting role, whispering all terrified over the radio that Nate was outside, and he needed backup. He could have whispered, “I see dead people!” and I’d have believed him.

Turns out this was all a ruse on Nate’s part, having already hooked up with our new buddy, and two men were sent to retrieve him, walking right into his trap. Bang bang, followed by another quick double tap. Nate had put them down in an ambush, then put them down a second time before they could twitch and reanimate.

I made the decision to move out of the room and see if I could hook up with Nate. I was properly armed now and could support him as required. Unfortunately, I wasn’t well versed in traversing hostile buildings on my own with live shooters. I rounded a corner, just as a flashlight pointed my way.

Two guys at the top of the stairs got eyes on me and before I had the presence of mind to fire, both of them pointed SMG’s my way and pulled their triggers. I just managed to dive back round the corner, plaster dust clouding the air as a shitload of bullets splattered the area I had been standing in just a second earlier. I stayed there for a while, not daring to lean round and return fire, switching my rifle to full auto. My thinking was a hail of my own might make them dive for cover and give me a chance to properly retreat, maybe go back out the way I came and get back on the roof. Seconds later though, the more familiar sound of a single rifle shot cracked in the gloom and I heard the scream of one man as Nate’s bullet royally fucked up his night. A quick follow-up shot silenced him for good.

The second shooter turned his attention down the stairs, unloading on full auto to wherever Nate was taking cover, so I took the opportunity to wheel round the corner, shouldered the rifle, and spat out a storm of bullets from a fully automatic SA80.

Christ, have you ever fired an assault rifle on full auto? It’s like a bucking bronco in your grip, but my superpower of undeserved good fortune meant the wild spray of automatic fire filled the area where the second gunman was standing. At least six of the bullets ripped into him, one of them through the skull. Insta-death, no reanimation, and the crowd goes wild. I got a little carried away with my celebration, pretty much putting an audio spotlight in my general area, and another gunman right down the end of the hallway appeared round a corner, a flashlight on his SMG giving his position away just before he unleashed a hellstorm of bullets my way. That brief signal of the torch beam had me yelping and diving for cover as an entire SMG clip filled the hallway.

It went quiet for a moment as the gunman slapped in a new magazine, but then a single crack of Nate’s rifle unleashed some god-awful screaming of, “My fucking arm!”

Seems old dead-eye had waited for the gunman to lean back round, then smashed a single bullet through his upper arm, all but tearing it off. As the grievously wounded man pleaded with some unseen friends to help him, I peered round the corner. The dark silhouette of Nate in his familiar combat walk glided down the hall, slipped a flashbang out of his chest pocket, and