Nick
"Ey ya brat! Ya want some? C'mere!"
Another shot, another kill.
The wolves circled around him, wary of the gun in his hands.
"Yeah! Ya want some a this?!"
Nick fired the sniper into the air, causing the predators to scatter back into the forest. He slung the weapon back over his shoulder, muttering
"That's what's up you sum bitches."
With that, he trudged onwards into the woods.
The brilliant orange sunset found Nick on lying on the top of a large foothill. The mountains loomed above him, their snow-white peaks casting a shadow over him.
A perfect location to snipe some filth.
Through the scope of his USR, he tracked a small caravan of survivors, filthy looking and barely worthy of their names at that. But they had supplies, boxes upon boxes of it piled onto the back of two sad looking donkeys.
He needed it. As of the wolf attack he'd had no food or water. His throat was dry and his stomach was a knot of cramps.
Who cared about these guys, half of 'em were probably aliens or some scummy thing like that.
He set up the tripod, watched as the sun set, then switched to thermal, still on target. He judged the wind, about thirty five to the west, then adjusted accordingly.
The first shot took the middle kid right in the head. Instantly, the boys ducked behind their caravan, weapons drawn.
Nick cursed to himself, then fired again.
He hit dirt.
Bullets smacked the grass right in front of him. Nick rolled to the left then slid down the hill. Gunfire still echoed from the survivalists, but Nick was out of sight.
Grabbing a rock, he stopped himself then scrambled around the side of the hill. Positioning himself again, he fired, hitting an outstretched arm from his new vantage point.
A scream echoed across the valley. Nick quickly pumped the shell out and fired as a kid tried to run across to nearby cover. The shot hit him square in he chest and he fell with out a sound. More bullets buried themselves near his head. He held position and fired once more, his shot ramming into the supply boxes and sending shrapnel everywhere. The survivalists ducked as wood shards exploded outwards. Nick took the chance to slide down the hill, towards the caravan.
The kids peeked out again, guns held low, not expecting a charge.
The first bullet took one of them right between the eyes. The other survivalist turned, lifting his weapon. Quick as a whip, Nick stuck his leg out, stopping his slide and launching him into the air. He twisted, crosshairs aligning with the kid's head.
The shot sent the survivalist careening backwards.
Nick landed in the dirt.
"Suck it you f***'n wankers!"
He strode up to the caravan, half dancing in glee.
Today was a success.
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