SurvivorZ: Grave Harbor

22

EVE

Nothing in her past twenty-four years on Earth prepared Eve for the possibility of ending up in a shootout with mafia goons on a burning bridge. If anything, her recent training with deadly firearms only compounded her moral dilemma. Now that every life was a precious commodity, she couldn't fathom why people still seemed hell-bent on squandering it.

Unlike those around her, she wasn't here to wage war. She had lost everything on the day the world ended, including the last member of her family. She couldn't bear the thought of losing the few people still important to her. Tommy and Graves might not need her, but she needed them. That meant doing everything she could, short of murder, to ensure they survived this ordeal.

From the looks of things, she doubted her presence would make much of a difference in that regard. Between the smoke billowing in her face from the burning gas tanker straddling the middle of the span and the bullets whizzing over her head, she couldn't tell if they were winning or losing the battle. Hell, for all she knew there weren't any winners and losers here. All she saw were casualties and survivors.

Tommy palmed the top of her head, forcing her down next to him behind the wrecked car they were using for cover. "Keep your head down," he ordered. "Manconi's men can't shoot for shit, but you never know when they might get off a lucky shot."

Semi-automatic gunfire blasted relentlessly at them through the smoky center of the crumbling bridge. Tommy received word over the radio that the explosives had collapsed the structure at Highland Avenue. Their forces were having an easier time of it there, popping off bullets across the rubble scattered along the Charles River. The span at Kendrick had proven more stubborn to take down and more difficult to defend.

One of DiMarco's men poked out from around the back of a nearby van. He took aim at the shooters across the bridge and fired off a few rounds from his AR-15. Before he could duck back under cover, a stray bullet clipped him in the face.

Eve gasped, watching as the round knocked him to the pavement in a splash of fresh blood. A few inches lower and his bulletproof vest would have absorbed the damage. Even after weeks of growing accustomed to it, Death still found new ways to catch her off guard.

"God! This is insane."

Tommy glanced at her between shots over the car's hood. "This is war."

"War is insane."

Tommy nodded his head slightly and shrugged, before going back to the chore of wiping out their enemy. She watched him with her Glock clasped between her fingers, knowing that their survival meant shooting back, yet still unable to will her limbs to comply.

Tommy took a break to reload and check on her again. "Are you all right?"

She gazed at her hands, noticing the same shake in them that he did.

She shook her head, while chewing on her bottom lip. "I don't think I can do this," she admitted. "I'm sorry. I thought I could help, but I don't... Sorry."

"It's okay." He squeezed her shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Just keep your head down. We got this. I think we're wearing them down."

She looked up. The sun had set completely, leaving a pitch, starless sky behind. Were it not for the flames, they'd be shooting at each other in almost total darkness.

"Where's Graves?" she wondered aloud. "Shouldn't he be back by now?"

Tommy spoke between gun bursts. "I'm sure he's fine... It'll take a lot to kill that guy... Probably just enjoying some peace and quiet on the river."

"Carl doesn't strike me as the kind of person who does peace and quiet."

Tommy ducked down. A bullet sailed over his head.