𝙵𝙻𝙴𝚂𝙷 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙴 | 𝚃. 𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙾 𐂃

Chapter 13

Cristine gulped down her water. Her mouth and throat feeling unnaturally dry as her heart pound up her throat. It wasn't as if she hadn't cleared the dead before, just not with others. Let alone with Troy's unpredictable ass. Luckily, he accepted her request. Rolling her cap back on, Cristine stuffed the bottle in her knapsack the moment she saw his tall figure skulking around in the night. Propped on his back was the outline of what looked like a bag with two long nuzzles sticking out from the top.

As he drew closer, Cristine eyes roamed over Troy's neutral expression. For some reason, she expected him to be more excited, but she left the inquiries aside. She didn't expect Troy to be this calm when fulfilling a request that was right up his alley. Leading them through barbed wire, the duo rounded across the Ranch to her parked truck. After another twenty to thirty minutes of driving, Cristine parked the truck out of sight and trekked up the small mountainous road. Her nose twisted at the stench of festering flesh and sour fluids. Then came the out of sync choir of groans. Luckily, the smell and sound were closer than the dead itself upon sight. They were shuffling together in the exact same spot, as if waiting for something.

With narrowed eyes that showed his pensive nature, Troy curled his finger around his riffle before raising it to view the dead through his scope. "That's more than one person can take on alright." How these dead gathered unknown, but it would turn ugly over time if not dealt with. This wasn't anything they couldn't handle with their current equipment. "Think we'll need to expand the forcefield too."

Cristine agreed, lowering her riffle before she spotted a prone position to shoot down their inanimate targets. Crouching down, Troy pulled out a few boxes of ammunition and silencers to add as a finishing touch to their guns. Neither spoke and were fully focused on upgrading the rifles with the extra tools for this activity to be covert. Just as Cristine was about to settle in behind her gun, Troy tapped her on the shoulder. An arch of her brow to show she listened, but was a tad impatient when he pulled her out of her focus.

"Since we already have the advantage of elevation and equipment, I propose a bet. Let's see who can take out the most." Troy peered at her with a challenging eyes, his vigor rekindled. The proposal sounded tempting and Cristine nodded her head in silent agreement.

"What's in it for the winner?" Cristine asked.

"Some nostalgic goods," Troy smirked, "I'm on my last stash of some good coffee." Cristine squinted her eyes, making sure that Troy wasn't pulling at her leg for laughs.

When she didn't find any form of deceit in his eyes, she questioned his kindness with more suspicion, "that's awfully generous, even for you. What's the catch? Because I don't have anything of equal value."

"No catch, just a favor for when I win." Troy's rebuttal was rather confident. As if he'd won this challenge already and Cristine made a face.

"If you win. Don't get cocky nature boy," Cristine scoffed with a roll of the eyes.

"We have a deal or not doc'?"

"We have a deal."

-

Cristine begrudgingly turfed the final points behind Troy's name on the paper. She chewed on her lip, eyebrows scrunched together when she counted him as victor of this little match. "We're definitely doing a rematch." The first few rounds went so well, Cristine even outranked Troy at first. Then, it looked like he was done warming up and got headshot after headshot, whereas she didn't.

Troy fought back the smirk on his lips and lowered his riffle. Peering at the empty plot of land with the lifeless corpses, Troy glanced at the shadowed heaps of bodies. It was quiet, but the stench in the chilly night air was heavy. "Didn't know you were such a sore loser," Troy said before getting up from his position.