When the sonar specialist reached and pointed the gun at Wilson's head, Wilson groaned and opened his eyes to look up at her, his face pale and slightly bloody. He saw the gun and sighed. He had really been through a lot today. Would this be the end? Where was the person that helped him earlier? Has he been abandoned?
Lots of questions filled his mind but he was too weak to say a word or move a muscle. Only his eyes stared unblinkingly into the gun muzzle pointed at his head.
"Any last words?" The sonar specialist asked.
"Yes!" Charlie answered from the side.
Quickly, the sonar specialist turned to the side, her gun moving with her and pointed at the speaker.
In her heart, she was astonished. How come she did not hear this one's heartbeat? Or was this one of those extremely rare people who awakened the undead abilities? Which was he; necromancer, zombie-sub, undead contractor?
Regardless, she was not taking chances and shot at him. Someone who could stay with in five meters from her and still avoid detection was not a normal person. Get rid of the threat before it got rid of you. The fiercer one was the stronger one and the more ruthless, the more frightening. That was one of the basic rules of life as a killer.
Charlie calmly looked at the muzzle of the gun and instantly knew by approximation, where the bullet would hit. So, before she even pulled the trigger; within the timespan of three seconds which was the time it took the bounty hunter to stabilize and aim the gun properly, Charlie had ducked, rolled forward and grabbed the hands holding the gun.
He threw a kick at her abdomen and her right knee. As her knee instantly gave way, she gasped and cried out and fell backwards, on her back.
Before she could hit the ground, Charlie took out his trusty pistol.
*pew* *pew* *pew*
He pulled the trigger thrice. One to her head, one to her heart and the last to his left at a peeping tom who had been attracted by the noise.
"F*ck!" Dash's voice cursed out loud. He turned and ran for his life in a random, haphazard manner. Three diagonal steps to his right, a sudden half a second pause...
*pew*
A bullet whizzed in front of him.
"F*ck!" He cursed again and continued running forward. Another three steps and he ran behind a tree.
*pew* *pew* *pew*
*crackacka*
Three bullets chipped the bark of the tree at the sides.
"Hey!" Dash yelled. "I am a friendly. A friendly."
Charlie stopped three trees away from the tree Dash hid behind.
"A friendly?" He asked as he reloaded.
"Yes, yes, yes. I'm a friend." Dash quickly responded.
"Really?" Charlie asked again to confirm.
"Yes, I promise."
"If you are truly a friend, then show your face."
"What?" Dash was confused. What was the guy with the red mohawk playing at?
"I said come out!" Charlie said.
"Hell no! You think I'm stupid? If I do, you are going to kill me before I can even defend myself." Dash knew he was f*cked if he showed his face.
Charlie sighed, seeing that his trick hadn't worked. He decided to confirm.
"How are you a friendly?" He asked.
"That dude you saved..." Dash started. Charlie quickly interrupted him.
"Who? You mean Johnson?"
Dash was going to say yes when he stopped. He slowly tried to peep at Charlie who had slowly gotten closer to him.
*pew* *crack*
"That was a warning shot. No funny business or you will lose your chance." Charlie warned.
"Okay, fine! I won't peep." Dash agreed.
"Good! Now, back to Johnson!"
"Johnson?" Dash asked, "He told me his name was Wilson."
Charlie paused, his gun still aimed at the tree Dash crouched behind. The tree still blocked his sight but he was sure Dash was dead if he as much as moved an inch.
"Wilson?" He asked Dash.
"Yes, Wilson."
Charlie took two steps back and turned to his side to look at Wilson while his peripheral vision still had the tree in sight. Doing things that way would ensure that the slightest disturbance would alert him.
Wilson was still breathing but he was also unconscious. Charlie had no way of confirming if Wilson saw him as a friendly or a hostile.
"What's your name?" Charlie asked.
"Dash! My name is Dash. And I have medicine. A high level potion that will heal all of Wilson's wounds and stabilize him."
Charlie opened his mouth to speak but paused to think for a few seconds.
"Name's Charlie. Come out!"
"What?"
"I won't shoot. Come out."
Dash hesitated. This was a gamble on his side. If this Charlie person was not convinced or was actually an enemy, then he was done for. Should he or should he not come out?
"Look, you have to hurry. I can't stay for long. Wilson is being hunted. Hurry up." Charlie urged Dash to make his decision as quickly as possible.
Dash came out, hands raised in the air. Charlie looked at him and signalled for him to move forward. Together, they walked towards Wilson.
"Hey Wilson!" Dash casually greeted as he stood over Wilson, thinking he was out cold.
Wilson suddenly opened his eyes and grabbed Dash's leg. He squeezed tightly.
"Tsssss!" Dash hissed but did not dare to hit Wilson back lest Charlie shot his brains out from behind.
"You! How dare you leave me to myself. You slept and snored while I was being chased around by numerous hunters for hours."
"I.. I... I'm sorry, man." Dash quickly apologized. Wilson's grip was so strong, he felt like his leg might be crushed.
"You know him?" Charlie asked, looking at Wilson. Only then did Wilson's finally looked at who had saved his life twice already. That height of five feet eight that ensured he was not short but not particularly tall either by societal standards, a young face that did no justice to his age and maturity, coupled with the thuggish mohawk that seemed to attract all the attention with its new bright red color. This was someone he had met not too long ago but had come to like and respect like a slightly older brother.
"Charlie? What are you doing here?"
"Saving your abandoned self."