Chapter 6: Even Evidence and Explosive Odds

"They have no DNA match in the systems so they gotta be working with the army," I sigh as we approached the store.

"It's kinda unsettling that they appeared out of nowhere too," Nick continues, stopping our steeds to enter Hubris Comics.

The lack of ghouls outside the joint remained the same. So did a lack of ghouls anywhere else, as if all the ghouls Of Boston Common had vanished overnight. They cautiously entered the comic store, praying the lack of ghouls existed inside as well.

"You use 10mm to kill the body and 9mm to kill the soul and that's how you prevent them from coming back as a lich," Nick joked as the entered. The store was quiet and smelled of rotting flesh, ashes and ruined d20's. The store had seen better days though surprisingly Intact. Shelfs remained stationary but covered in ashes and burnt comics, games and merchandise.

A poster ripped on the wall advertising a game console's release, five months after the bomb. Sad.

A small whiz was heard briefly before a knife direct impacted my left leg. It hurt like fire, it became worse as a blur came to me, pulled it out and threw me against the wall.

"DROP THE KNIFE OR ILL SHOOT!" Nick threatens.

I couldn't see what nick was seeing, just a yellow blur that vaguely resembled a person. I was tearing up bad due to a pain I've never experienced, bullet wounds? Yep. Fire? Once, never again. But knifes? HOW CAN A BUTTERKNIFE HURT SO BAD? DUDE USED A KITCHEN KNIFE, NOT EVEN ONE FOR COMBAT BUT OWWWWW!

"You can kill 25 soldiers so ruthlessly yet you can't bear the sight of a knife wound???" The voice asked incredulous. The shape got closer vaguely white and purple.

"Interesting...VERY INTERESTING," and like it came, it left.

My wound would take time to heal, a luxury we didn't have.

So I took a breath, and recoiled as a burning feeling took over.

It healed fast but not fast enough for us to tie up. I even saw them wait at the top of the stairs, kinda nice I guess. They sat there, just waiting. Nick kept his gun facing them as they sat there, watching our every move.

But something was off.

There was something visible on their necks, a ring, no a collar.

They are walking bombs.

They are rigged to blow at any moment...

And the clock is ticking.