S.1 E.7 ~ Welcome to FU-Bar (Ch. 45)

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If we don't get a vehicle to catch up with Mack and Addy, then I won't have my brother beside me. I need to calm down, though. I don't need to get him hating me; anymore than he already does. I got off of my knees to stand behind him.

Cassandra followed my lead.

"Think he can do it?" I muttered, wrapping my arms around my body.

I want Mack. I need him. I focused on Cassandra and I's conversation, not wanting to listen to the girl and him speak to one another. She's getting in the way! Watching the scene in front of me was fueling some kind of hate.

Do I hate 10K? No. How could I? He was cute and a good shot. Best traits in the apocalypse. Well, for the time being they are.

"Registered shooters! Please hit your marks on the designated firing line!" Sketchy spoke out of a stolen megaphone from behind all of the sharp-shooters.

Loud. Very loud. 

"Alright! This first round takes place 100 yards out. When I announce the target Z, you aim. When I say fire, you shoot. If you miss, you're out. This is sudden death people. 'Cause there ain't no other way these days." His voice lowered to a sad tone but anyone who knew him knew better than to think he took pity for the dead, "Skeezy over there's gonna be the judge and what the judge says is final. Yeah? Last man standing gets the 50!"

The men and some of the woman around Cassandra and I cheered out for the reward their friends/family member may get for having good aim. Wow. How are they so relaxed here? They feel so safe; safe enough to laugh.

How? Why? Doc came running back towards us, slowing down when he reached our sides. He got in between us and wrapped an arm around our shoulders, standing behind 10K to watch our boy. 

"Hey! Tell them what second place gets them, Vernon!" Sketchy directed the attention to their--what I can only guess--newly made friend. 

They won't ever protect him like they protect one another. They may make him think that he's one of them and he can join the ride, but they just want him to be the bait for one of their schemes.

"Set of steak knives!" Vernon shouted, raising up a kitchen set of the steak knives. 

People around us laughed like there was no tomorrow for their individual self; there may not be a tomorrow for half of these people.

I guess you have to have that kind of humor at this point in the world.

"You ready, shooters?! Lets kill some zombies! Round one!" 

Sketchy shut off the megaphone to use the binoculars he had wrapped around his neck. Skeezy used his own pair of intensified visions to look around for their first target. 

"There's the first target! Hippie dude with the long hair. Fire!"

I watched far into the distance as a true hippie-looking male went down to his knees after the shooters had their target. Then, a Z beside it went down as well.

"Alright, who shot Grandma?"

"Voorhees, you're out!" Skeezy sounded disappointed as the old man got off of his knees and removed himself from the crappy booth that Skeezy and Sketchy had someone set up. 

"Next target! Hipster with the sweatpants! Fire!"

Shoots were fired, but there was one less shot fired. The rest of them made their shot, lessening the Zs in the world. 

"You're out, Alvarez!" Skeezy shouted, shaking his head at the failure to listen. 

Cons of getting old; your hearing lowers.

"You're doing good, 10K!" I grinned from ear-to-ear, seeing that he was still in the remaining competition.

That's our boy!

"I've got to go." Doc muttered, catching our attention.

Before we could question his exemption, he ran away. I looked behind me, observing a group of men disappearing behind a building. Doc looked to be following them but in secrecy. What's going on now? 

I uncrossed my arms to get ready and follow them, but Cassandra grabbed my hand.

"Stay here with me. It could be something bigger than they expect." She mumbled so 10K wouldn't hear the excuse.

The dark skinned woman let go of my limb, turning back around to watch our boy shoot his next selected target. She does have a point. If it's a horde, then I can't be very helpful to Doc. I'd be the exact opposite.

He can't pay me attention and himself; not exactly safe and I'm not putting that much pressure on the old man.

"We've got five contestants left!" Sketchy shouted into his turned on megaphone, enjoying himself a little too much in the Z games. 

"Next target. Cowboy hat. Fire!"

Five shots fired. Three shots on one Z. Who are the people that missed? How the hell can they even tell who missed? Any of them could've missed, except 10K. 10K doesn't miss. 

"Snyder, you're out! Mulligan, you're out!"

Sketchy praised each man that was took out of the game, but went right back to his megaphone. Must be his new favorite toy.

"We got three contestants left. Lets up the ante! Take her out 500 yards!"

"Why are you called Ten Thousand?" A dauntless voice spoke up from the left of me.

I snapped my head down between the stranger and the familiar. Does she not need to focus? 10K needs to focus. 

"It's how many Zs I plan to kill." 10K spoke dauntless like her, not moving an inch to look her in the eyes.

Oh, so he'll openly talk to a pretty brunette, but not the cute little (H/C) on his team? Dick.

"How many you got?"

"Not counting today, two-thousand-one-hundred-nineteen."

I zoned out of their conversation, not wanting to hear her annoying interrogation. She's just trying to get 10K out of his game; too bad he's who he is. Nothing can get pass 10K and nothing can get him out of concentration.

I hope.

"The dude with overalls! Fire"

Three shots. One wrong hit.

"You're gone!" Sketchy shouted towards the army dude.

How did he miss? He was in the army?! Could've been the brunette! No one had to scowl at the man for losing; it looked like he was beating himself up from losing to two teenagers. Shameful. 

"You got this, kid!" Doc encouraged from behind us, clapping his hands.

"(Y/N)."

I turned my head to the side to look over at Doc, who was leaning over to get a better look at the army man.

"Be ready to leave once we grab that gun."

I tilted my head back, still keeping my sight on the bearded man, "Why? We still have to get Warren and Murphy."

Doc looked at me for a moment, then a sign of realization hit him like someone throwing that 50 in his face.

|| 10K doesn't miss || 

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