it is currently raining outside.

and if somebody were to say that it's a drizzle, they would be wrong. The rain falling from the sky at the moment is heavy - something that would feel like you're drowning as soon as you walk out of the house.

you're walking around between the sidewalks and the world in a black, dirty sweatshirt with dirty and grime stains on them.

the white jeans you're wearing aren't exactly comfy either, even though they're baggy.

the world is wrecked, and the anomalies - zombies - that have been walking around lately are invading the town. Most of the buildings are on fire, people are screaming and running to leave this wicked town.

you're trying to smoothly avoid people in general, because you have been targeted.

why? You don't share.

you try to pretend that you don't know that two people are currently aiming at you from the roof of a very tall building, trying to shoot you.

you're trying to hide behind cars and buildings to not be seen and not be shot.

from above you -

The younger man lifted the weapon, his hands unsteady.

“Keep it on her.” “I am.” “No. You’re drifting.”

He corrected his aim, following the figure through the rain.

“There.” “I see him.” “Then stop watching everything else. Stay focused.”

you moved.

“Wait—”

“Track her.”

He shifted with the target.

“Like that?” “Exactly.”

The rain hammered against the pavement. The figure stopped beneath the faint glow of a streetlamp.