Metro 176: Pt.2
Metro 176 (pt.2)
Location: Local American village
Time: 715
Date: October 29
~The purpose of morality is to teach you, not to suffer and die, but to enjoy yourself and live
~Ayn Rand
I stare at the loaded Magnum in my, my hand loading another .357 round inside it. A total of three bullets, I spin the cylinder and squeeze the trigger. *Click* another failed attempt, I put the gun down as I sulk in sorrow. The reason why I am so emotionally suicidal you may ask yourself is simple. I heard from the hospital that Sonya, the woman that took my virginity and heart died from a flailed chest.
I stayed away from life, hoping my depressing state could take mine. *Knock! Knock!* I look up lazily as if it was the radio playing the American National Anthem again.
"Hello Sergei, you home?"
"Yes...."
"Well listen, an employer wants us to scavenge an outside mall. For all we know they might have some rations to hold us by for the next month. So.... You in on it?"
I open the door; I look like a depressed Wraith. I nod as I gather my Magnum, Gasmask, and some canisters for oxygen, along with my backpack. The city grew dim from the sight of me, not by mourning of the death of Sonya. But from the fact that besides Allan, me, as well as the Mayor were the only few Anthromorphic creatures around. Since America was against the idea of the "A-project" they thought of Russians as animals for doing so.
The bastards probably never helped my vixen friend in the first place. We travel into the "Gas Station" Our feline crew, straps down more bags. They nod at us, speaking would be relevant. Besides the words you say to your loved ones could be the last words that are whispered out of your mouth. There both with dual barreled shotguns called "Duplets", but the American men called it a "Coach Gun".
"Vulture team you are clear to move, you have four hours to gather supplies or you will be marked as M.I.A.'s. Do you confirm?" One of the cats which is a Calico picked up the mic.
"Rodger that Dogfood, are scouts found traces of feral activity along the stretch of road, we believe it to be Reapers." We all look at each other, scared of those words. You see, after the war only 3/4 of the population escaped to refuge. While the other fraction either died from nuclear toxication, or their body's performed the most grotesque mutations. They're minds become more savage and simple, yet not all went blood hungry, some still kept the special thing called sanity.
Our companion shuts the mic off; we board our ride as we zip down the tunnels till we leave the underground sanctuary for the hostile open hell hole called nature.
We manage to travel four blocks away before we spot a patrol of Reaper units. We stop the car behind cover; I count out just four guys. I point my fingers at my eyes to show that I've seen some not wanted company.
"Don't worry kiddies, I brought a helpful toy."
Allan grabs out a rifle that we all would love to bring with us. In his paws is the dreaded VSV Rifle. This gun was commonly used by KGB, Spetnaz, and law enforcement before the war. Finding one is almost impossible, well unless you're a gun nut like Allan.
"I hope you're hungry because you'll be eating lead ya sob." He adjusts the scope as his lazer sight matches, the canine breaths in as he fires. *PIP* The Reaper lagging behind falls onto the pavement with no sound. Allan takes aim at the other three as he repositions to eliminate the others. *PIP* *PIP* *PIP* in under five seconds they successfully joined they're dead partner.
We stay close to the wall as River (The spotted cheetah of the group) leads the way with his Coach Gun raised. He spots a flight of stairs to travel; he walks up the stairs into a sniper den. The hostile sniper is sleeping when we find him. I slide my knife out; I slash his neck open with no resistance. I get a closer look to see that it was a male bat, with no fur but holes all over his face with red eyes and sickle looking teeth.
I shiver as we pass by; the calico takes the corpse's AO-222 (side clip fed) Rifle. River warns us to get down; he called it right as a search light flashes over us. My heart beats as it moves over the body of my kill. The light stays there for five aggravating minutes I hear chatter as a group of the Soviet monstrosities run at our position. River aims his Shotgun at the door; one opens it and then is pelted with the birdshot. He ducks in time as one of the more heavily armored men open fire blindingly at his direction.
"Just keep moving. They won't be held off for long!" He reloads his Coach Gun as he discharges his PM Pistol. The calico stays behind, shooting down the bats with his AO-222. The groups both share bullet after bullet at one another. We move down the lower sectors occasionally meeting a Bastard welding soldier after every five steps.
"Sergei head to their food stash, I'll head to their armory"
"Got it, don't turn to Swiss cheese while were away." We exchange nervous glances and chuckles as we run down the large warehouse. I aim my Magnum down the path as I steadily walk cautiously eyeing the open doors for supplies. I find a crate of dried spaghetti and bread. I stuff the rations in my bag; all I hear is a roar as one of the disgusting monsters rushes at me with an axe.
"Come HERE.... MEAT!" *I turn to bring my Magnum up to fire, but the psycho kicks it away and smashes the handle into my face. Immediately my left eye fills with blood, I pull out my trusty knife. I flip it so the blade is a lined with my fingers and I whip it blindingly at the aggressive man. I hear a sickening THWACK, as it enters its chest and jabs through its heart with a disgusting display of spewing blood.
But I ignore it as I'm forced to remove my mask and rub some blood off the visor. If I breathe any of the toxic stenches well, let's just say I wouldn't be the most handsome wolf around. I inspect my gun to notice my barrel of the .357 is bent beyond repair; I discard the broken sidearm as I venture to find Allan. The good part is that--Oh wait there is no good part about it!