Playing The Victims [BL]

Chapter Sixty-Eight | Third World

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Following the bullet that grazed the body of the overturned vehicle, everything went silent. Hansel watched on from the confines of the van, keeping himself low just as the others were. Valentin and those who had followed, were crouched behind the target of the bullet. It didn't take them long to discern where it had come from.

As the apocalypse went on, those who had ample ability no longer feared the Rotters, but instead the living. Groups became increasingly territorial, doing anything to protect their belongings. Things like public morals- wasn't on the radar. An example of abandoning the very thing that one would consider to shape a good human being, was the Scavenger team. And from the feral look on their faces, they didn't appreciate being shot at.

Their expertise was in their name, and their methods were in their reputation. Valentin was surrounded by expendable men, so with a nod of his head, one member poked his head around the side of the vehicle. No bullet followed his action, so they could breathe a sigh of relief. But it still begged the question of where the sniper was, and how the team could get out of range. If the man with a finger on the trigger was in a elevated position- they were screwed.

"There," Hansel blurted, but still keeping quiet enough for it to be only heard by Bjorn and Jakob, ", the white building, five floors up and second window from the farthest right." He instructed in a flurry. And the men responded. Bjorn's frown deepened when he caught sight of the barrel poking out of one of the windows.

"He's in greens," Bjorn stated, glancing beside him to see Jakob wearing a similar expression. The military were relatively aloof as the worse of the apocalypse hit, they all pooled together to instead build the safe-zone and enact some form of united front. So to see someone handling military-grade weaponry, as well as driving a particular armoured vehicle, could only mean they were undoubtedly militants who were still active.

Hansel could guess what the two men were thinking, weighing up the possibilities that the sniper was from the safe-zone. And knowing how tactful Valentin was, Bjorn decided to signal to him. After some faint whistling, the man in question finally turned his head. His darker eyebrows drew together as Bjorn made a series of gestures and mouthed a few words.

He seemed to get the picture. And that's when Valentin looked to the ground, sussing a few things out before nodding his head to himself. Looking left, and then right, his gaze landed on one of the team members by his side- who was wearing a white-ish shirt. After a few short mumblings, the guy ended up taking it off and waving it in the air; just enough so that the sniper was likely to see.

It was short, tense few minutes before everyone heard the squeak of a door opening. Two men wearing the 'greens' that Bjorn was talking about, moved with precision and with their guns raised. Both being assault rifles, and held by men who seemed to have no qualms with firing them. Their army uniforms were perfectly tailored to their heights and builds and didn't seem to have any traces of blood on them. For their surroundings, they appeared remarkably groomed.

Valentin was the first to stand up to greet them. He put up his hands ever so slightly, showing he was 'surrendering'. And after letting the men have a proper examine at first glance, he spoke up. "If this is your vehicle, then I can only guess you're in need of some assistance."

The weapons were lowered slightly, but the men still instinctively kept up their guard. "Where're you heading?" Was the blunt response by the militant.

"The safe-zone, but we're picking up supplies as we go."

"The safe-zone?" The two men looked to each other, a flash of a conversation going between them. Without them seeing it, Valentin was feeling quietly confident that the two men would inevitably end up depending on them if they wanted to get anywhere.