119

I tried to open my mouth once more, to say anything and maybe dig for some information from the boy. But then something happened. A change in the atmosphere. A dark sphere of energy emanating from the ground.

I jumped and looked back, taking my eyes off of the boy. But I don't regret it as I instantly leap into action. My fist impacting the chest of the newly risen dead.

He who had died, that soldier who had bravely followed in my footsteps. His eyes are black - they were once blue - and he smirks. Still holding to that oh so valuable weapon. Then, with a click, it erupts into fire. A tensing of that rotten finger - zombified by the mere presence of the boy. Or some strange spell.

Either way, they fly above my head. That hail of bullets. And only stopping to pierce through my skin. My grimace is immense, feeling the pain of the bullets wash over me. And the heat too. Oh! The heat. Of the fireballs that blocked my path of retreat.