LeftForDead - Love of a Hunter ChapterTwo

Not far from the street that Hunter writhed painfully around, the Witch sat huddled and alone. She was sitting on the worn wooden floorboards on a wrecked building, her knees drawn to her chin. Gunshots startled her and a light shriek cut through the air, making her jump. She looked out the window and saw humans scrambling on the wide road. She looked around, and found Hunter sprawled on the ground, shielded only by a truck that was over-turned to it's side long ago. The sight of him clutching his shoulder painfully made her stomach turn. She stood slowly, careful not to be seen from the window, and paced quietly out of the room. Soon, her bare feet were making soft creaks as she slowly padded down the stairs into the room below. She crouched, peaking out a crack that had chipped away in the drywall. Witch caught sight of Hunter, still huddled behind the truck a little to the side of the bulding she hid in. Her stomach turned again, uncomfortably. She had to find help.

---

Smoker looked around the corner to see what all the noise was. He'd heard the deep bang of the guns aswell, smelt the smoke. His eyes narrowed as they surveyed the scene before him. His eyes landed on Hunter. A survivor was making their way over to him. Smoker saw Hunter shrink away, his hand gripping at the shoulder of his jacket. His face was contorted with pain. The survivor came to stand over him, a gun pointed at his face. Smoker let out a low gurgle, pulling his long tongue into his mouth and winding it tight against his teeth. When it was wound tightly enough for attack, he shot it out. It sailed through the air like a striking taipan, aimed straight for the chest of the survivor. His tongue hit the human with such for that, if it had not already started constricting around them, it would have knocked the man forward. The tongue snaked around the mans torso, winding around its chest and around its neck. He slowly began retracting the long, grey tongue, making the survivor move backwards in short, stumbled steps. The speed slowly grew faster, drawing him into Smoker. When the survivors back bumped against Smokers chest, he drew his tongue in tighter still. He watched as the human was pressed against his own body, as the humans face gradually turned a light red colour before fading to a sickening blue. The human coughed and spluttered and, despite his large size and reasonable muscles, he was no match for Smokers tongue. The survivors legs stopped kicking, his arms stopped gripping at things, as he finally and hopelessly took his last suffocated breath. Smoker was so distracted by the struggle with the human that he barely noticed that the ground had started shaking. He retracted his tongue back into his mouth and let the human drop heavily to the dark gravel of the street. He sneered, his legs vibrating from the sheer force of the Tank that thundered its way towards them. He ran towards the overturned truck, ducking behind it and leaning over Hunters form. Hunter lay motionless on the ground. Smoker checked over his body, noting only a single gunshot wound - the one in his shoulder. He didn't notice he was holding his breath until he let out one long gush of air. The survivor didn't make the shot, Hunter could still be alive. He couldn't help but smile a little, the corners of his mouth tugged up only slightly. The ground still shook and rumbled around them, rocks bouncing as Tank came closer, tearing towards the remaining survivors. He watched as the huge thing tore at a building and threw a massive chunk of rubble over their heads, towards the humans. Smoker turned from the scene, suddenly uninterested. He bent his head over Hunter and shook his friends unharmed shoulder.
"Hunter?", he whispered, "A-are you okay, pal? Come on, speak to me". His own hands shook, his small smile had already disappeared as he looked over Hunters motionless face.
Smoker bowed his head, a cold sadness falling over him. Then, Hunter's body heaved. Hunter coughed and spat, gripping his shoulder in pain. His eyes fluttered open and were streaked with pain. He screwed his eyes shut again, gritting his teeth at the burning pain in his shoulder. The ground still shook around them, though softly now as the survivors could be heard in the distance, still trying to escape the massive Tank. No one seemed to notice the large Boomer that loomed up that alleyway, lumbering silently towards them. No one ever seemed to hear to huge undead.
Boomers deep slow drawl came from behind them, making Smoker and even Hunter look up in surprise. "Hunter, did you try attack them humans alone?".
Hunter simply nodded, closing his eyes again.
"You know you aren't 'spose to do that", the large zombie said, nodding his large head slowly.
Hunter grimaced, opening his eyes to take in his two friends. For a moment, the physical pain of the bullet seemed to leave his eyes and he looked like the Hunter they knew - quiet and embarrassed.
"But, I though.. y-you guys were..", he sighed heavily, starting again. "I thought Smoker was in trouble". He looked over at his closest friend. Smoker simply shook his head.
"We were looking for you. I was", he paused, looking over at Boomer, "we were worried about you. Because, well, I love you man. You've been like a brother to me. You're my best friend." Smoker trailed off, his throat getting tight with emotion he hadn't felt since he was alive. A single, blood-tinted tear slid from his one good eye and trailed its way down his rough cheek. He turned away, his turn to feel embarrassed. He wiped his eye on his sleeve and cleared his throat heavily. When he turned back, Hunters body was tensing as he fought not to cry out in pain. Smoker noticed a trail of blood dribbled from Hunters mouth, down his chin. Smoker began talking softly to him, rambling nervously about anything and everything, refusing to even acknowledge Hunter was wounded. But Hunter couldn't hear anything Smoker was saying, he just watched his mouth move rapidly, babbling silentely. Hunter closed his eyes, suddenly feeling light-headed. He gave in to the silence overwhelming his mind, letting himself drift further into it, slowly. He didn't feel anything, hear anything, smell anything. He didn't even notice Smoker was shaking his worn body now.
"Hunter?!", Smoker cried, his hands pushing at Hunter desperately. "Hunter, hang in there! You're strong, you can't give up!". But Hunter didn't move, he didn't speak. Nothing gave away any sign of life inside him besides the faint breath that make his chest rise and fall weakly. Smokers eye welled up and heavy, red tears began to spill from it. Boomer stood silently behind the pair, his head bowed solemnly as far as his large, thick neck would allow. And he watched in silence as Smoker cried for the first time since his own heart had stopped beating.


---


The Witch watched from the shadows, her silent agility matching Boomers. She edged out of the shadows slowly, followed by a tall figure. The man in the lab-coat eyed the zombies calmly, not even flinching when Smoker looked up to glare at the approaching pair. Witch walked over to Smoker and placed a heavily-clawed hand on his shoulder tenderly, simply nodding at him. Smoker nodded back and turned to Hunter, watching defensively as the man placed his hand over Hunters forehead. Smoker hissed quietly, letting the man know he was watching him. The white-clad man seemed unphased, not even looking up from Hunters face to acknowlede the Smoker. The man smiled tenderly at Hunter, leaning in close, his lips only inches from Hunters ear.
"Do not worry, my friend", he whispered, his tone slightly accented in a way that Smoker couldn't quite pick out. "Your pain will soon be over". The man pressed his hand harder onto Hunters skin, tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He parted his lips slightly and strange Latin words were chanted so quietly, so quickly, that they were just a breath on Hunters face..