of his hands and somewhere in to the sludgy water. The man remains on the floor in front of David, trying to get up but unable to. David walks a few steps towards the man and lands a running kick to the man’s head, snapping it back violently.
Eighteen
New Jersey, East Rutherford, Met Life Stadium
A covert militia man lies on his back gasping for air. Sammy Banes stands over him, looking into his eyes. A constant wheezing of the man’s chest makes Sammy feel uncomfortable. He’s never killed a man before. It takes some getting used to. But it’s something he realises he has to do. Sammy catches himself looking at the devastation around him. Bodies lie scattered around the underground area of Met Life stadium. More than half of his group are dead. When the covert militia men hit them a few hours ago, they came in fast and furious, taking out over a hundred people with rapid machine gun fire. Sammy had to take cover. He was lucky that over fifty armed police man had made their way underground when the world went to shit. If they didn’t have any armed men or women with them, maybe it would have been a different story. Maybe it would be Sammy lying on the floor, bleeding out from a chest wound. Maybe it would be a militia man pointing a gun at Sammy’s head much like Sammy is doing at this current moment in time.
Sammy’s hand is shaking slightly as he holds the weight of the gun in his grip. He can feel the sweat coming off his hands, making the gun feel uneasy. He continues to look the army man in his eyes. An acute realisation of fear is present in both Sammy and the man on the floor. Even though Sammy has a gun, he doesn’t know whether he can shoot him or not.
‘Shoot the prick,’ a voice says from behind him.
Sammy turns around and see’s the remaining group of survivors look on at the incident unfolding in front of them. Sammy turns back around and kneels down, pressing the gun against the man’s neck.
‘I’m sorry,’ Sammy says as he pulls the trigger.
The gunshot pings off the walls and rings in Sammy’s ears.
‘They fucking killed two hundred of us man, two hundred! You should have shot him sooner,’ says the man’s voice once again.
Sammy doesn’t move, he just watches as the blood escapes the dead militia man’s neck.
‘You hear me Mr Big shot?’ asks the man
Sammy slowly gets up and turns around to face the group member. It’s the man he ended up kicking in the face not too long ago. He walks up to the heckling man and shoves the handgun into the man’s hand.
‘Next time you use the gun and see what it feels like,’ says Sammy
The man stands there in shock, not quite knowing how to react.
Sammy walks off and leaves the group to themselves.
Nineteen
Jesse Manteo is sitting down at his desk looking through case files. It’s been a long shift. It seems like forever since the city of New York was normal. The continuous cases of people blowing up and militia men shooting up the streets is causing the life of a law enforcement officer to be nothing but visiting crime scenes and working with the FBI. Word has gotten out to the public that the streets of New York are not safe. A state of emergency has been put into effect and the National Guard now patrols the city in droves. The government are hell bent on figuring this thing out before it destroys America.
Jesse’s partner, Ricky Pastori is kneeling over Jesse’s desk reading the case file he’s on. The both of them have been silent since attending the crime scene on 48 th street. Most of the cop’s downtown have family in the city. A lot of them couldn’t do anything before the so called virus that’s causing people to explode took their lives. It’s the same for both Ricky and Jesse. The whereabouts of their families are unknown. The department have reassured them that they will do everything in their powers to find everyone who is missing, including family members of working NYPD officers.
Most people would take a
Eighteen
New Jersey, East Rutherford, Met Life Stadium
A covert militia man lies on his back gasping for air. Sammy Banes stands over him, looking into his eyes. A constant wheezing of the man’s chest makes Sammy feel uncomfortable. He’s never killed a man before. It takes some getting used to. But it’s something he realises he has to do. Sammy catches himself looking at the devastation around him. Bodies lie scattered around the underground area of Met Life stadium. More than half of his group are dead. When the covert militia men hit them a few hours ago, they came in fast and furious, taking out over a hundred people with rapid machine gun fire. Sammy had to take cover. He was lucky that over fifty armed police man had made their way underground when the world went to shit. If they didn’t have any armed men or women with them, maybe it would have been a different story. Maybe it would be Sammy lying on the floor, bleeding out from a chest wound. Maybe it would be a militia man pointing a gun at Sammy’s head much like Sammy is doing at this current moment in time.
Sammy’s hand is shaking slightly as he holds the weight of the gun in his grip. He can feel the sweat coming off his hands, making the gun feel uneasy. He continues to look the army man in his eyes. An acute realisation of fear is present in both Sammy and the man on the floor. Even though Sammy has a gun, he doesn’t know whether he can shoot him or not.
‘Shoot the prick,’ a voice says from behind him.
Sammy turns around and see’s the remaining group of survivors look on at the incident unfolding in front of them. Sammy turns back around and kneels down, pressing the gun against the man’s neck.
‘I’m sorry,’ Sammy says as he pulls the trigger.
The gunshot pings off the walls and rings in Sammy’s ears.
‘They fucking killed two hundred of us man, two hundred! You should have shot him sooner,’ says the man’s voice once again.
Sammy doesn’t move, he just watches as the blood escapes the dead militia man’s neck.
‘You hear me Mr Big shot?’ asks the man
Sammy slowly gets up and turns around to face the group member. It’s the man he ended up kicking in the face not too long ago. He walks up to the heckling man and shoves the handgun into the man’s hand.
‘Next time you use the gun and see what it feels like,’ says Sammy
The man stands there in shock, not quite knowing how to react.
Sammy walks off and leaves the group to themselves.
Nineteen
Jesse Manteo is sitting down at his desk looking through case files. It’s been a long shift. It seems like forever since the city of New York was normal. The continuous cases of people blowing up and militia men shooting up the streets is causing the life of a law enforcement officer to be nothing but visiting crime scenes and working with the FBI. Word has gotten out to the public that the streets of New York are not safe. A state of emergency has been put into effect and the National Guard now patrols the city in droves. The government are hell bent on figuring this thing out before it destroys America.
Jesse’s partner, Ricky Pastori is kneeling over Jesse’s desk reading the case file he’s on. The both of them have been silent since attending the crime scene on 48 th street. Most of the cop’s downtown have family in the city. A lot of them couldn’t do anything before the so called virus that’s causing people to explode took their lives. It’s the same for both Ricky and Jesse. The whereabouts of their families are unknown. The department have reassured them that they will do everything in their powers to find everyone who is missing, including family members of working NYPD officers.
Most people would take a
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