Jonathan scanned the room quickly. To the right of the bed was a large gray laminated wardrobe; on the left, a pink vanity table—clearly for a teenage girl.
Sounds of rummaging echoed from the first floor—those damn Amun thugs weren't even trying to be quiet.
"Sofia," he heard her whisper. She gripped his collar tightly and pressed her face against his back, trying to hide behind him. That's when he saw it—rotten, withered fingers creeping out from under the bed. The zombie's purple-tinged hand stretched toward Jonathan's ankle like an octopus tentacle, ready to snatch him the moment it made contact.
"Shit…" he muttered under his breath as a decayed head, with patchy, matted hair, slowly emerged from beneath the bed. It dangled low like a ghost, leaking a yellowish fluid that filled the room with a foul stench.
Jonathan watched the tiny hand inch closer—just a few more inches and it would touch his leg.
May your soul find peace, he mouthed the traditional hunter's blessing from his tribe—words meant to be spoken before taking the life of any creature.
"Thwup."A silenced shot from his Glock G19 cracked the air. The bullet shattered the zombie's skull like a watermelon, spraying gore across the floor. It fell just before its hand could touch him.
Jonathan's chest heaved. Sweat beaded across his face. Even all his years of archery couldn't compare to the pressure of that single shot.
Then—footsteps.
He turned left just in time to see a man at the top of the stairs raising an AK rifle. Jonathan fired first.
"Thup-thup-thup-thup-thup!"The 9mm rounds tore through the man's torso. He collapsed, a heap in a black tracksuit.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"Gunfire erupted from below. Another thug had thrown himself sideways, unloading toward them.
Jonathan ducked and rolled into the room.
"You bastard! You killed my friend!" came a shout from below, followed by more gunfire that shattered the soft brick wall.
Click.He heard the enemy's gun run dry. Jonathan didn't hesitate—he burst out and fired again.
"Thup-thup-thup-thup-thup!"Five more rounds struck the thug—arm, torso, leg.
"Go, now!" he yelled, yanking Sofia's arm and dragging her toward the stairs.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"More bullets tore through walls and banisters. Jonathan turned and returned fire.
"Thup-thup-thup-thup-thup-thup—click."He emptied the mag, just enough to force the attacker into cover behind a doorway.
"Run!" he shouted again, snatching the M14 rifle from Sofia and pushing her toward the back wall.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"Bullets slammed into the kitchen wall as Sofia screamed.
"Get down!" Jonathan barked, firing back."Crack! Crack! Crack!"
His shots forced the gunman to duck. It gave Sofia the chance to bolt through the rear door.
"Ahh!" Her scream made Jonathan's blood run cold. He turned toward the back door.
A large Black man was charging at her from the side.
"Bang!"A shot fired from the front of the house—Jonathan felt like a wrecking ball had struck his back.
"Bang!"Another bullet grazed his shoulder, sending him sprawling.
The large man tackled Sofia like a python wrapping around its prey, squeezing tight.
"Ugh…" Jonathan gasped, blood pouring from his mouth. His lungs were on fire. He couldn't breathe. His vision blurred, and cold spread through his body. He could hear the struggle outside, the dragging, the cries—but it all became a dull, distant hum.
He couldn't move. Couldn't even feel his body anymore. His eyelids started to fall.
...Sofia... I'm sorry...