Post by Dan Reaper on Aug 10, 2016 0:10:26 GMT
The day hadn’t been kind to them. Lightning cracked across the sky followed by super sonic booms of thunder so loud that it caused many to bolt right up startled. It was ideal for the task at hand; it would give them cover in the night to come if the entire gig was a set up. Chambers long ago would have despised the idea of fighting in the rain, it would have lost his sightings on the targets below and made it hard for him to hear with his acute hearing. Fifteen years ago this would have been a problem, Fifteen years ago he wasn’t a seasoned warrior like he was now. The Legend of Alex James Chambers hadn’t yet been born until the turning point of the war.
Fifteen years ago he put a bullet through the skull of the revived Dead Sight 2 ending it for good, ten years ago he blasted a hole through the magnetic shield of 313 and crippled it from chasing them through downtown New York. Fifteen years ago he lost everything that mattered to him in one gunshot and a horde of zombies. He only lived now becauses his body refused to die, and his mind refused to give into that weakness, instead it molded him into the best chance for the rebels to survive. The people called him a savior despite only knowing his name and not his face, many who crossed the Wall knew only death was following behind them and then they heard the blasts come through the night saving them.
Fifteen years ago…
“Chambers, your cousin was in the middle of that horde? Am I correct,” she asked, sitting behind her desk watching him from the shadows, only the light caught the circular rim of her glasses. He sat across from her in silence, his head tilted down staring at his feet. There was nothing he could do to stop the horde, he blasted holes through them but they kept coming, a zerg monster of bodies pushing ever ending and there was Rebecca….
“Mourn the dead, but I need you, you are a major piece of this puzzle…”
He was waiting under a burnt out shelter, the walls had long since crumbled from the fire that had engulfed the entire region a decade earlier. The metal beams and the tin roof were all that remained and even those were giving to time. Rust covered every inch of the small shack and holes were allowing water to seep through. As usual, Chambers was ahead of schedule, he was crouched down leaning against one of the beams with a knife in his hand and a block of wood in the other, he was carving chunks from it slowly.
Five years ago on a night stormy like this, he and Amy were huddled under a tarp, Amy had been sleeping and he had been watching the same access point for roughly seventy two hours without looking away from it. She told him he needed a hobby. It took five years but he eventually picked up whittling. He was damn good at it too, his apartment was covered in wooden carvings that were extreme in detail. The project in hand was currently shaping up to be the Hellsing coat of arms based on memory.
Fifteen years ago he put a bullet through the skull of the revived Dead Sight 2 ending it for good, ten years ago he blasted a hole through the magnetic shield of 313 and crippled it from chasing them through downtown New York. Fifteen years ago he lost everything that mattered to him in one gunshot and a horde of zombies. He only lived now becauses his body refused to die, and his mind refused to give into that weakness, instead it molded him into the best chance for the rebels to survive. The people called him a savior despite only knowing his name and not his face, many who crossed the Wall knew only death was following behind them and then they heard the blasts come through the night saving them.
Fifteen years ago…
“Chambers, your cousin was in the middle of that horde? Am I correct,” she asked, sitting behind her desk watching him from the shadows, only the light caught the circular rim of her glasses. He sat across from her in silence, his head tilted down staring at his feet. There was nothing he could do to stop the horde, he blasted holes through them but they kept coming, a zerg monster of bodies pushing ever ending and there was Rebecca….
“Mourn the dead, but I need you, you are a major piece of this puzzle…”
He was waiting under a burnt out shelter, the walls had long since crumbled from the fire that had engulfed the entire region a decade earlier. The metal beams and the tin roof were all that remained and even those were giving to time. Rust covered every inch of the small shack and holes were allowing water to seep through. As usual, Chambers was ahead of schedule, he was crouched down leaning against one of the beams with a knife in his hand and a block of wood in the other, he was carving chunks from it slowly.
Five years ago on a night stormy like this, he and Amy were huddled under a tarp, Amy had been sleeping and he had been watching the same access point for roughly seventy two hours without looking away from it. She told him he needed a hobby. It took five years but he eventually picked up whittling. He was damn good at it too, his apartment was covered in wooden carvings that were extreme in detail. The project in hand was currently shaping up to be the Hellsing coat of arms based on memory.
