Chapter 19: Present Chapter 6: The First Confrontation (Vol. 1)

H-How could you?  What the actual fuck, Zoey?  You didn't tell me, anything...you just made this...batshit decision without talking to anyone, you selfish bitch!  Do you realize what you've just done and what you have to live with for the rest of your miserable excuse for a life?  There's no coming back from this, Zoey.  Y-You're...a killer...and nothing is ever going to change that, now.  There's a special place in hell for someone like you.  Damn it.  Damn it!  You fucking monster!

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Hell, huh? thought Zoey to herself as she was studying a stuffed bunny that she had found in the toy section of the department store that her and Ricochet were looting.  I guess he wasn't wrong considering that I'm already there.  I have to wonder, though.  If that hell does actually exist, is it worse than the world that I'm currently living in?  That's hard to imagine.  Eh, even if it is, I deserve it.  To spend the afterlife, burning in a pit of fucking flames rather than being surrounded by angels and good-natured people.  I mean, that's why I'm still here in the first place, right?  Because God didn't want my ass.  Still, a part of me would love to go to heaven when I die so I can be with mom...dad...and, maybe, even...

"Zoey, what the fuck are you doing dicking around in the toy section?" asked Ricochet as Zoey, instinctively, hid the bunny she was looking at behind her.  "We're looking for food and other supplies, remember?  If you want the stupid bunny so much, just take it but then focus on what you're supposed to."

Zoey put the stuffed bunny back on the shelf where she had found it.  

"I was just looking.  I wasn't planning on taking it with me, really.  It's been forever since I've been in the toy section of a store like this.  I remember how excited I used to get when my father would let me look around in this section of the store, after he was done with his errands.  I would spend hours trying to figure out what I wanted to buy.  What about you, Ricochet?  Have any fond memories like that?"

"Nothing special," responded Ricochet.  "My parents used to let me look around, sometimes, like your dad did, when they were done shopping.  Although, there was this one time, instead of buying something for myself, I bought something for someone else.  It was weird.  I actually felt...happier buying something for someone else than I usually did when I just bought a toy for myself.  Maybe, it was because I was proud of myself for finding something that the other person would enjoy?"

"Was this other person a she?" Zoey teased, smiling.

"We're spending too much time talking.  I'm going to keep looking around the store.  I'll come and get you when I'm done.  Try to actually look for shit that would be helpful, if you can?"

"Just answer one question for me then, before you go," Zoey called out.  "The person that you bought the toy for...did they like it?"

"Haha...they loved it...it actually...brought them to tears.  I remember being confused on why they were crying and whether I did something wrong or not.  Apparently, it was the first time that someone, other than their parents, bought them something.  To this day, I don't think it was something to cry about.  Then again, these days, I'm nothing but a cold bastard on a quest for revenge.  Anyways, I answered your question so, for once, how about you actually listen to me?"

Ricochet began walking away while Zoey thought to herself, He's talking to me a lot more, these days.  I wonder if I'm growing on him a little?  

Zoey and Ricochet had just made it to Virginia, a couple of days ago, and were currently getting closer and closer to the hospital, where the Flames had made their base.  A part of Zoey was nervous because she knew that once they arrived to the hideout, there was going to be conflict...bloody conflict, involving killing and she questioned whether or not she would be able to assist Ricochet in any way?  The last thing she wanted to do was get in the way but, despite still having her Desert Eagle tucked away in the back of her shorts, Zoey had zero faith in her ability to use it.  To take another life.  She was hoping that by the time her and Ricochet reached their destination, her mindset would change but, unfortunately, it didn't seem like that was going to be the case. 

All of the sudden, before Ricochet got too far away from Zoey, the two heard the sound of the automatic sliding doors of the department store open in the distance.  This could only mean one thing.  That the two were no longer alone in the store.  

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Shit, you have to be kidding me, thought Ricochet, upon hearing the same dreadful sound Zoey did.  The odds of the people just now entering this place being friendly is about...I'd say 0 fucking percent.  I can probably handle myself just fine against other survivors but...if it's something worse, we could be in trouble.  

Ricochet turned to face Zoey and put a finger up to the part of the hockey mask where his mouth would have been, signaling Zoey to be quiet and not alert their visitors.  

"Zoey, find somewhere to hide," ordered Ricochet, quietly.  "I'll go scope out the situation and see what we're dealing with."  

"B-But, I can go with you," argued Zoey, in her best attempt of a whisper.

"These guys could, potentially, be a lot more dangerous than the guys we fought at the RV park.  If that's the case, your little hand-gun might not be able to do shit against them.  Even then, are you actually prepared to use that gun to kill someone?"

Zoey gritted her teeth in response and that was enough for Ricochet to know that she still didn't have it in her to take a life.

"There's no way out of this situation without killing a few bastards so just stay back and, if you hear gunshots, I want you to get as far away from this place as you can.  Got it?  I don't want to be responsible for you losing your life."

Ricochet could tell that she wanted to argue some more with him but she, simply, just nodded her head in understanding, crouched down and made her way to find a hiding spot.  

Ricochet sighed to himself.

If things do go to hell in a hand basket, it might mean that Zoey and I will be going our separate ways, Ricochet told himself.  Worst case scenario, I end up dying and, without my protection, Zoey would be fucked.  Hopefully, she actually listens to me and leaves if she hears the gunshots.  She's stubborn, though.  Hm.  Zoey can be annoying as hell, most of the time, but having someone follow me around has been...different...it wasn't the worst thing in the world.  Still, it could be for the best that we're being separated.  Nothing good would come from her hanging around me for too long.

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"We haven't checked this location, yet, right?" asked one of the members of the Flames, who had just entered the department store.  

In total, there were 7 members of the Flames, five of which were carrying M-16 Assault Rifles, 1 carrying a grenade launcher and the last member carrying a flamethrower.  All of them had fire resistant body armor and a branding mark on their necks that was in the design of a flame.

"Yeah, the boss said this store hasn't been looted and we need to focus our search on food since we're running low," answered the member of the Flames with the flamethrower.  

"I thought we got food from that other group that operates out of D.C.?" asked the member of the Flames with the grenade launcher.  "Are they no longer trading with us?"

"I don't know," claimed the member of the Flames with the flamethrower.  "That's something that you're going to have to ask the boss, himself.  If that's the case, though, that would be a hell of a bummer.  That group may have been a bit weird, especially their leader, but the shit they traded was mad useful.  Oh well, worrying about it won't accomplish anything.  Let's just focus on looting this place, for now."

Crunch!

All of the heavily armed men pointed their weapons at the isle where the sound had come from.  

"Come out now or we're going to start shooting!" ordered the Flames member with the flamethrower.  "Playing stupid and still hiding isn’t going to help, at this point.  You already fucked up, asshat."

The group waited to see if the person, who had made the noise, would actually show their face. Surprisingly, a figure did walk out of the isle, wearing a black hockey mask, a tactical combat vest and seemed to be equipped with a handful of weapons, one of them being a claw blade that was attached to his right forearm.  

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And I oops, thought Ricochet as he was now standing in front of what looked like a group that had a lot of firepower.  Last time it was Zoey's stupid ass that got us caught and now, I'm the fuck up.  Great.  These guys are definitely better equipped than the usual guys I fight and there's a lot of them.  Could be fucked here.  

"Who the fuck are you?" asked the member of the group with what looked like a flamethrower.  

Ricochet was going to speak up but he saw something on the man's neck and when he looked closer, he could tell that it was a branding with the design of a flame. 

"I'm assuming that you guys are members of the Flames, right?" questioned Ricochet.  

"That's right," answered the member of the Flames with a grenade launcher.  "Now, again, who the fuck are you, asshole?" 

"Me...I'm nobody special...but I've been looking for you gentlemen."

"You've been looking for us?" asked the member of the Flames with the flamethrower, in disbelief.  "You got a death wish or something?"

"According to my sources, who may or may not be reliable, you guys trade with a certain group that I'm looking to get more information on.  If any of you guys can just tell me the name of the group and where to find them, I'll fuck right off and you won't even have to waste ammunition on my cute little ass.  How does that sound?"  

"Sorry to disappoint but we don't even know the name of the group so we couldn't tell you, even if we wanted to," answered the Flames member with the Flamethrower.  "The only person who knows that is the boss or...maybe, his brother...I don't know."

Ricochet sighed in disappointment at the fact that he now knew this wasn't going to end, peacefully.

"That's a shame.  Think you can message your boss, real quick, and ask him?  I have no issue waiting."

"Listen, smart ass, we aren't going to waste our boss's time with your bullshit," said the Flames member with the Flamethrower. 

"Well, since that plan failed, I guess I'll just have to visit your boss at the hospital," antagonized Ricochet.

"You know the location of our base?" asked the Flames member with the flamethrower.  "That makes this even easier.  Sorry, buddy, nothing personal but we have to kill you."

"Yeah, I figured as much.  Mind if I—"

"Pussy!" yelled a feminine voice in the distance, which distracted all of the members of the Flames and made them take their eyes off Ricochet for a split second.

That was all the time he needed.  He quickly drew his 92FS Beretta and fired two rounds at two of the enemy's heads, who both had M16's.  A bullet blasted through both of their skulls, killing them, instantly, and as the remaining group members began to react, Ricochet was already running away back into the isle that he had come from for cover.  

"Mother fucker!" he heard one of the remaining members yell.

Good job, Zoey, Ricochet thought to himself, in shock that he found himself being grateful to her for her stupid outburst.  

Boom!

Before Ricochet could create too much distance between him and the Flames, a grenade went off and sent him flying into the air and landing, painfully, on his back.  He put his 92FS Beretta back into its holster and reached for his Micro Uzi Submachine Guns, drew it, and, just like he had predicted, one of the members of the Flames was now standing in front of him.  He turned the man's skull into a bloody mess with a barrage of bullets that were fired from his weapon and, in retaliation, he heard the sound of assault rifles firing at him, from a distance.  

Rat-tat-tat!  Rat-tat-tat!  Rat-tat-tat!

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Bullets blasted above Ricochet but none of them hit him since he was still on his back.  In a prone position, Ricochet began to crawl away, being sure to check behind him, periodically, in case one of the members of the Flames was bold enough to pursue him.  

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Zoey was hoping that her shouting was enough to give Ricochet some time to escape from all of the armed men he was talking to.  Despite telling her to hide, Zoey decided to check out who had entered the store as well.  Upon seeing how many there were, she knew she had to act fast so Ricochet could have a chance to run away and find some cover.  From what she saw, it seemed like he had gotten away which was good.  Now, it was her time to hide so she wouldn't get in his way.  She was proud of herself for actually helping and didn't want to end up fucking it all up.  Without wasting any more time, she turned and went to find a hiding spot, far away from the militarized group that was attacking Ricochet.

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"He went this way," the member of the Flames with the Flamethrower claimed as he stepped towards one of the isles that was filled with toys.  The only other member of the group that was with him was the man with the grenade launcher while the other two were checking other parts of the store.

Ricochet stepped out from behind the isle, threw a basketball at the man's head and it made perfect contact, causing him to tumble backwards.  Ricochet sliced the man's eyes with his claw blades and the man screamed in agony as blood came pouring out of his eye sockets. While the member with the grenade launcher continued his screaming, Ricochet wasted little time in using his claw blade to swat away the other man's flamethrower, right before the trigger was pulled on it, letting out a roaring flame.  Despite the flame missing him, Ricochet could still feel the sweltering heat coming from it since he was so close to it.  The enemy swiped his flamethrower in the opposite direction of the way Ricochet had knocked it in an attempt to burn Ricochet but, Ricochet expected this and, immediately, got onto his stomach so that the flame would hit the man with the grenade launcher, instead of him.  The man with the grenade launcher, unfortunately, wasn't hurt in any way by the flames because of the flame-resistant body armor but Ricochet was relieved that the flame had missed him which was what was most important to him.  He drew out his 92FS Beretta and shot the man with the flamethrower in both knee caps, forcing him into a kneeling position, since he could no longer stand.  Ricochet, quickly, got up, before the man could shoot another flame at him and uppercutted the member of the Flames with his claw blade.  The blade went all the way through his skull, starting at below his chin and ending with the tip of the blades protruding from the top of the man's head.  The man's eyes rolled into the back of his head and Ricochet ripped his claw blade out of the man's skull, turned, pointed his 92FS Beretta at the other member, who was on fire, but panicked upon seeing that the man's grenade launcher was now pointed at him.

Oh fuck! cursed Ricochet to himself.  

Ricochet dove out of the way as the man, in desperation, still not being able to see, shot a grenade at where he was standing.  The grenade made contact with the man with the flamethrower and blew the entire right side of his body up, sending his right arm flying into the air.  Now, missing half of his face, his entire arm and half of his torso, the man with the flamethrower flopped onto the floor of the department store with a disgusting, splat, sound.  The other member continued to shoot more and more grenades, all of them missing Ricochet as he kept moving, knowing that if he stood still for too long, one of the grenades would hit him by default.  Eventually, Ricochet saw an opening while running, aimed his 92FS Beretta at the man's head and fired, praying that he could hit the enemy while moving.

Bam!

Thankfully, the bullet hit its mark and blasted right through the middle of the man's forehead, causing him to fall backwards onto the floor with a loud, Thud!

That was a bit hairier than I was hoping for, thought Ricochet, taking a moment to catch his breath.  Wait, this was just the flamethrower guy and the grenade launcher guy...I killed 3 guys before them so that means...shit, there's still two left and they aren't here.  Damn it.  Odds are that stupid girl didn't fucking listen to me and leave the store.  Why the hell do I always gotta be the one saving her busty ass?

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All of those explosions don't sound good, thought Zoey to herself as she made her way, crouching, through one of the isles as stealthily as she could.  Hopefully, Ricochet was able to—"

Crack! 

Before Zoey could finish her thought, she felt a brutal impact against the back of her head.  She fell onto the floor as a nasty noise began ringing in her ears from the blow to her head.  As soon as the ringing began to go away, she turned around and Smack! 

Another nasty blow to her cheek, with the same heavy assault rifle as before.  She fell onto her back and could taste blood in her mouth, after the strike.

Fucking ow, Zoey thought to herself in pain.  This can't be good.  Didn't anyone teach these assholes that you shouldn't hit a girl?  Fuckers.

"Wow, I didn't think I'd get to see a girl as hot as you, again," said the man, who was responsible for hitting her.  

Another man, with the same flame-resistant body armor, appeared behind him.  Despite her blurry vision, Zoey could tell that they both had assault rifles and that, for some reason, they were putting them in their respective holsters on their backs.  

"Do you think we can take her with us?" asked the same man, smiling.  "Boss shouldn't mind, right?  It's a real sausage fest back at that hospital.  Having a girl around could be a nice change of pace."

"Hm...she is a pretty thing...nice tits too," commented the other man.  "Haven't had sex since before the incident...it's felt like fucking forever."

"Hell, if we bring her back with us, we could all take turns with her...if the boss allows it...although, he might just want her for himself."

"Hm...in that case...why don't we fuck her, now?" asked the man, who was responsible for Zoey's injuries.

"You fucking dense?  We're supposed to be looking for that guy with the hockey mask?"

"I can be fast."

"The fuck...you a minute man or something?  Either way, why the hell do you get to go first?"

"I found her.  Finders get laid while losers have to fucking wait, asshole."

While the two men were busy arguing, Zoey was able to pick herself up off of the floor, without either of them knowing.

Horny fucks, she thought to herself, annoyed.  I need to shoot them before they notice me.

Zoey pulled out her hand gun which was a Desert Eagle and aimed it at the oblivious men standing in front of her.  

Okay, all I have to do is pull the trigger and kill them both.  I can do this.  These two are absolute scum...complete bastards...utter shit...and...and yet...why the fuck can't I pull the trigger, still?

Zoey's hand began to shake while holding the gun and the two men standing in front of her, finally, noticed she was standing, again, and pointing a weapon at them.

"Shit, see what happened because of our asinine conversation?" asked the man, who showed up to the isle second.  

The original man, who had struck Zoey, noticed her hands shaking while holding her Desert Eagle and this caused him to smile in relief.

"It's fine.  The dumb broad can't even fire the damn weapon.  Look at her.  She's a nervous wreck."

After he was finished insulting her, the man approached Zoey, expecting her not to shoot.  Zoey's hands shook worse and worse, the closer the creep got to her.  Eventually, the man was close enough to Zoey to grab her hair, yank her head, downward, and ram his knee into her nose.

Crack!

The blow from the knee was enough to break Zoey's nose, causing blood to drip out of her nostrils, onto the floor, below her.  

Whack!

Zoey fell to both knees after another brutal strike to her other cheek this time.  The man didn't let up and continued punching Zoey in the face, over and over again, each strike with more force and power than the last.  By the time he was finished, Zoey's face was a bloody mess and she could, barely, keep her one good eye open, at this point, from the swelling that was beginning to form around it.

"Damn, I let my anger get the best of me.  You definitely don't look as fuckable, anymore.  Might have to get a paper bag for your face...hahaha...make it easier for me to look at...should be fine, though, because your bod is still rocking."

The man grabbed Zoey by the throat and pulled her face closer to him as she struggled to keep her face away from his.  Frustration...shame...anger...all of these emotions began swelling up inside of Zoey and while the man was leaning in for a kiss, he noticed something that caused him to stop.  Zoey's eyepatch...something under it...was glowing red.  

"What the fuck is—"

The man was unable to get a closer look at what was happening under Zoey's eyepatch since he was pulled backwards with an incredible amount of force.  He fell onto his back and saw the body of the other man that was with him...or...the corpse, since the man's head was, completely, removed from his body. The man began to panic and scream in terror at the sight.  

Zoey was still on her hands and knees and standing in front of her was Ricochet, the one responsible for killing the other man.  He knelt down so that he was on Zoey's level and sighed, after seeing how badly damaged her face was.

"I told you to leave the store...should've figured you wouldn't listen to me," claimed Ricochet. "It's alright, though.  Here."

Ricochet turned Zoey's body all of the way around so that she was no longer facing him.

"Just give me a couple of seconds.  You don't have to see this, after what you've been through."

Ricochet stood up and began, slowly, approaching the man, who was responsible for hurting her.  

"L-Listen man, I-I was just—"

Ricochet, with speed that caught the man off guard, lunged at him, and stabbed his claw blade right into the man's crotch, without a second of hesitation.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!" screamed the man in agony.  "My dick!  What the fuck, man?"

While the man's mouth was open from screaming, Ricochet used his left hand to grab the man's tongue, while digging the claw blade further inside, at the same time.  The pain was so severe that the man couldn't even scream...all he could do was watch in horror at the monster, who wore a hockey mask, in front of him.  Ricochet ripped his claw blade out of the man's crotch.  Then, proceeded to saw the man's tongue off with the sharp edge of one of the claw blades.  Blood splattered all over Ricochet's hockey mask but this didn't stop him...not in the least.

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"Right, sorry about that," apologized Ricochet as he knelt down in front of Zoey, who had been looking down at the floor of the department store in silence, the entire time Ricochet was taking care of the man, who had caused her so much pain.  "Here, come with me and we'll go see if we can find some medical supplies here.  Also, I've had a broken nose before so I can help you—"

Zoey didn't respond to anything Ricochet was saying and, instead, wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his tactical vest.  He could feel her whole body shaking and hear the sound of her crying, despite it being muffled by his vest.  Despite feeling uncomfortable in this position, Ricochet didn't move or shove Zoey off of him.  Rather, he hugged her back with one of his arms and rubbed her back, softly.  

I really fucking hate tears, he thought to himself, allowing Zoey to cry into his tactical vest. 

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