Dying Blood

First Bonus Chapter: Gregory's POV

Gregory's POV

  At 9:01 a.m., I began to be worried about Maccoy's safety so I began to communicate with him via walkie-talkie.

  "Hey, Maccoy," I said to him. "Where are you now?"

But what I can hear is static.

  "Hello? Hello?" I responded back. "Are you there?"

Then, Steve came and asked me, "Hey, what are you doing?"

  "Trying to contact Maccoy to see if he was okay or not," I answered back while readjusting my walkie-talkie.

  "Well, at least our training for him would make him prepared," Steve replied.

  "Yeah, you're right."

But still, we heard nothing but static.

  "Oh, no, he might have dropped it by accident," I said to my comrade in assumption.

  "Right," Steve agreed with me. "Pinpoint his walkie-talkie's location."

  "Okay," I responded, before typing in my laptop to pinpoint the current location of Maccoy's walkie-talkie.

Moments later, the location of his communication device appeared in my radar, indicating that it was located at an intersection somewhere in downtown Charleston.

  "Steve, his walkie-talkie's location is located here," I said to Steve while pointing at the location on the screen.

  "At an intersection?" Steve asked back upon seeing it.

  "Yeah, I think so," I responded. "It was somewhere in downtown."

  "Okay, let's go there." "Right."

And so, we grabbed our weapons and left the airport terminal building in search of Maccoy.

  Later, at 9:23 a.m., we arrived at that location, only to see three things laying on the ground: Maccoy's walkie-talkie, a scratchpad, and a pen.

  "Those belonged to Maccoy," Steve said to me.

  "Yeah, he had a thing for scratchpads," I responded, before running up to look for any possible clues.

  "Where did he go?" Steve asked while examining Maccoy's small scratchpad.

  "I don't know," I replied as I examined Maccoy's walkie-talkie.

Then, Steve read what Maccoy had probably and recently wrote.

  "Well, this entry is nothing at all," Steve said to me, before showing it to me.

Seeing the handwritten entry, I responded with, "Yeah, it was."

But then, someone shouted at us, "Get your hands in the air!"

We then got alerted, and we looked behind, only to see men in military uniforms and armed with weapons, and they are pointing them at us.

  "It's the military!" Steve said to me.

  "Get your hands in the air, now!" one of the soldiers repeated.

We did so, and I responded, "Woah, we're not terrorists anymore."

  "Are you sure about that?" another soldier asked back.

  "Yes!" Steve replied desperately. "We even cut ties with our leader so they would not find out what we did to him."

  "We'll do anything!" I added.

Seeing that we're not fooling around, the soldiers lowered their weapons, and one of them asked, "And what are you doing here?"

We then put our hands down, and Steve answered back, "We're searching for our friend."

  "Oh, a fellow survivor?" another asked.

  "Yes, his name is Maccoy Cruz," I replied back.

  "I see," the same soldier responded. "Where is your current hideout?"

  "Come with us," I replied.

And so, we went back to the airport terminal with that squad of soldiers, aborting our search for Maccoy completely. But, I did wished for his safety.