Chapter 8: Hunt For Olympians

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Kyle, Sarah and Cassandra continue making their way toward the TV station, with Kyle walking ahead of them.

Sarah: Hey, Cassandra.

Cassandra: Yeah?

Sarah: Thanks for saving us.

Cassandra: Don't mention it. Keep an eye out for patrols. I saw a lot on the way to save you guys.

Kyle: How many?

Cassandra: At least 3 with 8 in each patrol so they'll definitely be more.

Kyle, Sarah and Cassandra continue making their way through the streets.

Sarah: Something keeps bothering. They were after you, Kyle, right?

Kyle: Yeah...

Sarah: But, Cassandra, why didn't they kill you and Hunter when they had the chance?

Cassandra: I don't know.

Sarah: Seems reckless of them with these guys being a military organization.

Kyle: They're fucking dumb.

Sarah: Maybe.

Cassandra: What is it?

Sarah: I mean....it could be that you two weren't who they were after...so they spared you.

Kyle: That fucker who shot me thinks otherwise.

Cassandra: I mean they did beat the shit out of me and Hunter and the asshole, Chad, kicked me face in.

Sarah: Yeah, but why do you think they didn't just—

Kyle: It doesn't matter, Sarah. They fucked up. They're gonna realize that not killing Cassandra and Hunter or making sure I was all the way dead will be their last mistake.

Sarah sighs, before speaking again.

Sarah: What was the name of the girl in the note? The one at the TV station?

Kyle: Shelly.

Sarah: I don't want to ask this, but was she the one who....um....she the one with the bear marks?

Kyle: No. That girl was built like a goddamn ox.

Cassandra: Only thing I remember of her was the sound of her crying over that piece of shit's face when I carved him a new scar. I'm wishing she could see his dead body now...feel the pain I felt.

Sarah gulps at hearing that.

Sarah: So....how do you two want to handle her?

Kyle: Find out what she knows. Find where the others are. Go from there.

Sarah: You gonna ask her why they did what they did?

Cassandra: Yeah...

Sarah: And if she doesn't talk?

Cassandra: I'll fuckin make her talk.

The trio come up to this wall with spray paint, which looks like an older Caucasian-American man with greyish\dark brown hair and a cross branded on his face. His right eye blinded. His hands raised and there were people around his, praising him. The words "Praise the Prophet, Jedidiah" written below him.

Sarah: What do you think this is?

Kyle: Um, someone wants us to "praise the Prophet."

Cassandra: I don't like it. Religious propaganda.

Sarah: You think this guy's connected to the Olympians?

Kyle: Don't know.

Cassandra: It's fucking weird.

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