A Shrouded World - Whistlers Read Online Free PDF

presses on with the four others catching up.
    Head shots , you idiot , the thought penetrates.
    I raise my small crosshair a notch , placing it on the bridge of the creature’s nose. It bobs and weaves as it streaks toward my position, making the shot difficult, but I send another projectile out to greet it. Dark liquid sprays outward from the impact with its head, and the running figure flops forward into the grass as if it hit a trip wire. Quickly shifting my aim to the next, it spins to the right and drops to the ground. The other three have closed the distance and have reached the ditch separating the highway from the grass along the side.
    Their advance is slowed by the tangle of cars. Two go around one of the vehicles while the third leaps onto the hood. I turn quickly , looking to see that I have room behind me, and begin stepping backward. I line up my sight with the creature on the hood. A muted cough, with a puff of smoke emitting from the end of my carbine, signals yet another round exiting my barrel. The figure on the hood takes my greeting card in the middle of its forehead. Its feet slip out from under it and its head hits the windshield with a loud crack, starring the grimy glass.
    Two remaining .
    Rounding the car, they are attempting to navigate around another one. They dart through small openings, trying to find way through. The tops of the vehicles are interfering with my ability to get a clean shot, so I continue backpedaling to gain a little extra distance. Adrenaline is flowing through my system. I can’t believe I have to deal with fucking night runners in the middle of the day. I do not like this one bit.
    I finally manage to keep my crosshair centered on one long enough to squeeze the trigger. Sending two shots out, I see it drop and disappear behind the car next to me. The screams have diminished to the single remaining one. Not that it really diminishes. A screaming figure running directly at me, with the intent of causing harm, isn’t my idea of lessening anything. I’d really prefer drinking a Long Island Ice Tea while sitting on a warm beach somewhere. That, however, isn’t where I’ve landed.
    The roof of the car is blocking any shot at the one remaining. It’s getting a little too close for comfort so I thumb the selector switch to auto. At this range, taking my time to get a well-aimed shot just isn’t going to happen. If I can’t get a couple well-aimed shots off, I want the ‘lots of not so well-aimed shots’ option.
    With a loud scream, the figure leaps onto the hood of the car next to me. It hits the hood with one foot and springs into the air. I raise my M-4 and squeeze the trigger. My laser walks up the body to the head with rounds hitting along its path, finally connecting with the head of the leaping figure. I sidestep as the creature begins its fall, impacting against the side of a car next to me with a heavy thud. Its head snaps back sharply and its body slams into the pavement.
    I scan the area to see if there are any more ‘friends’. Although the intense screams have vanished, I still hear groans floating on the air. They are coming from the direction of the burning city and seem distant, but they are still there. Looking down, I study the figure that almost ruined my delightful morning stroll. On closer examination, it doesn’t look much like a night runner at all. It has the same pale skin but without the darker gray blotches. Also missing is the redness that appears with the previous night runners I’ve encountered that have come into contact with the light of day. Whereas the night runners bleed red when shot, this one has dark liquid slowly leaking from its wounds. And, as with the other rotting corpse, the body lying on the pavement is covered with unhealed cuts and gouges.
    I look to the forests lining the highway. I’ve always felt comfortable in the woods and look at them as my friend. They provide cover and concealment in addition to just being great