The Will To Live✔️

Chapter 14: Pit Stop

Was another storm on rapid approach?

He could understand Izzy's reaction at least. No Marine wanted to be called cowardly or timid, even through implication, (or maybe that was worse, it was almost easier to take when someone just said something straight to your face, rather than them trying to be sly and BS their way around the insult just so that they could have plausible deniability when you called them out on it). He genuinely hadn't meant that, he was more concerned about becoming too hesitant himself. The situation was dire, and could actually turn lethal extremely quickly. But they still had things to do, and it was a hell of a thing to balance getting stuff done and taking risks against taking unnecessary risks, or too few. A lot of the time, all you could do was roll the dice and hope.

It felt like he was doing that a lot just lately.

* * *

"Man, this place looks like crap," Izzy muttered.

Greg sighed as they came to a full halt in front of the two-story structure. It did, indeed, look like crap. Several of the windows were broken out, the garage door was open about halfway, and the whole thing looked like it had been built about a hundred years ago, and no one had done a whole hell of a lot to upkeep it.

"Hopefully it has what we need," he replied.

They settled into their standard procedure, first making a complete circuit of the structure's exterior, ensuring that nothing was waiting for them. Although really anything could be waiting in the treeline that sat about ten meters back from the rear and sides of the building. This island seemed to have a lot of dead forests. Once they were about as sure as they were going to be that nothing was outside, they turned their attention inwards.

As they approached that stuck-open garage door, Greg's instincts twitched. He hesitated about the same time Izzy did.

"What-" he began, then something cut loose with a growl from inside.

"Crap," Izzy whispered harshly, pulling out her pistol.

He did the same. It sounded like a varg. He heard padding footsteps suddenly, more than one set, and then...nothing. They backed up a few feet, waiting. There were definitely vargs inside the garage. The pair stood there beside each other, pistols at ready. For several seconds, nothing happened. The wind blew. The tension mounted.

And then a quartet of vargs raced out from beneath the half-closed garage door in a gray blur. Greg's pulse spiked violently and painfully as he opened fire. The first shot was good, nailing one of the vargs dead on in the skull and dropping it in a spray of alien blood. It hit the blacktop and skidded, but the others were so fast. Izzy managed to clip one's face, which sent it running and yelping. The other two barreled onward like gray-furred bullets. Greg kept firing but they were too fast and suddenly one of them was upon him.

He felt his body react faster than his mind and pistol-whipped the creature directly in the face while simultaneously sidestepping. There was an awful crunch and the creature hit the ground behind him. He whirled around and saw it trying to get back to its feet, but he didn't give it the opportunity, aiming and firing, putting a bullet in the back of its head. Twisting as he heard another yelping whine and feet beating the blacktop, he saw the final varg rushing away after the other that had fled. Izzy was reloading.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Fine," she replied tightly.

"No bites?"

"No bites," she confirmed. "You?"

"I'm fine," he replied after double-checking. He let out his breath in a long sigh. "Goddamn. Too close."