He slowly shifted his body peaking his rifle out of the building he was currently held up in, they had been on there way back to camp, this was one of the trap houses he and Willow had been setting up today, this one in particular had some special traps, and judging by the look of the group that was coming well, it looked like they would need the traps.

This really was a bad time, they were running low on ammo, and they were not set up in the most defensible of locations, but this was hardly the first time the odds had been stacked against them. That however was how he liked it.

The world was against him.

It wouldn't be fair otherwise.

With a sigh he looked down at the meager supply of rounds he had left. 15 bullets for his rifle, and two rings for his revolver, if you took into account that each ring had six rounds, that only left him with 27 bullets, and his opponent had some sort of vehicle that was almost like a tank, it had been covered with plates made of rusted corrugated metal that wove over it creating a bumpy and distorted silhouette that made discerning what the vehicle had been before the group had made the conversions impossible.

It was interesting to not however that this was a motorized vehicle, meaning there were such things in this world and not everything was pulled by a donkey mule thing’s physical labor.

“Better make each one count.” He growled under his breath. Sighting down the scope at street the approaching tank would come from. As it rounded the corner is slowed to a stop, the barrel swayed left and right, scanning for its targets and traps.

It was no surprise it was looking for traps, there was no way it had not seen the last caravan he and Willow had raided, they had looted it and packed it off, but this group had come up behind before they could get back home to resupply, thus why he was so low on ammo.

Whether this was a part of the same group or another was not discernible at this distance, and it was not like the last caravan was even marked, they were after all in a post apocalyptic setting, it would seem as though people tended to wear anything that they could find or loot.

That was what he was doing after all.

He smiled as the tank rolled forward all six tires hugging the ground, the strange tank like treads over the rubber wheels making him think they might remove the treads when they needed speed and had a more open environment.It rolled along and the suspension and shocks struggling to hold up the massive weight of the armored vehicle. It was close to a little surprise he had left for them.

It was a present that they had found in the last caravan’s possession, an old school claymore explosive, crude, but effective.

With a snap the treads of the tank broke the low tensile wire, causing the explosives he had hidden under some debris to do what they were intended to do. The explosion was like a miniature sun had risen under the tank, it lifted it up almost an inch off the ground before the heavy vehicle slammed back down into the ground, dislodging the tread on the rights side in the process.

Matt growled in delight as he looked into the viewport cut in the front of the tank, the people inside seemed extremely confused, it was just what he had needed and wanted. He targeted the small four inch gap, and aimed at the bit of flesh he could see through the small view port.

He pulled the trigger, only to have the round bounce off the armored plating an inch too far to the right. “Shit.” He aimed and this time he held his breath, reducing the movement his body was naturally making, he pulled the trigger and felt the shudder as the rifle kicked back against him. He watched as the person he had seen through the viewport had their arm explode into a shower of blood and flesh. The sounds of shouts and curses came out muffled from the vehicle.

With a grimace he watched as an additional armored truck pulled up behind the ruins of the tank, and men piled out. Worse yet it looked like some of them had somehow got some thermal goggles, this group was much better outfitted than any of the previous ones they had faced.

He needed to move, it would not be long before they were able to figure out where he was. With a grunt he rolled to his left and fell down a section of caved in roof. Before he could hit the ground he stuck out his legs and landed in a crouch.

“Heat signature 12 o’clock high!” one of the armed men yelled, and Matt was forced to throw himself backwards to avoid the hail of fire that split the ground just where he had been standing.

“That’s right assholes, look at me.” He growled, slinging the rifle over his back and pulling out his revolver. He barreled through a door to his right, splintering the wood like it was nothing and exited onto a balcony. Then with just one leg on the railing he kicked off, jumping gap between two buildings and single-handedly grabbing the wrought iron railing on the adjacent balcony.

His weight bent the weakened iron as he twisted and fired two round into two of the men that rushed after him .44 caliber rounds found a new home inside the skulls of the two who were stupid enough to run around the corner without pause. Before they even hit the floor he pulled himself up and into the next building.

“23,” he sighed, before running over to the next ambush area. As he went past he heard the door two stories down being breached. “Welcome to my home.” He laughed as he pulled the pin out of a flare and dropped it into the black powder near his boots.

The flare lit the powder and fire ran out of the room and down every hallway. As the blaze went up he tucked himself into the corner. He took the corner collar of his duster and tucked his nose into it, it would be no good to die from smoke inhalation. Originally this building was going to be a spot they lured groups of people into and then smoked to out, leading them into preplanned kill zones, but now, with their enemies thermal goggles, well this seemed like fate had given him this chance.

He smiled as he watched them fan out from his perch; it was all about timing now. Taking a deep breath he moved, running through the flames and smoke like a demon he grabbed the first man and with a single twist snapped his neck, before firing on three more with his .44.

The rounds each found their mark, one in the neck, giving a man a new breathing hole, another found its way in between one man’s eyes. And the last burrowed into the armpit of a woman who had turned to run, just under the armor plating, judging by the trajectory it should have done no good things to her heart.

The fifth and final person bolted for the door, Matt smiled savagely, “no there is no escape.” He said and rushed the man, he pulled up behind him and with a single hand grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his throat into the door frame through which he had been trying to flee. The poor soul twitched once or twice more before lying still.

With practiced ease he searched the bodies, depositing all the ammo and weaponry into a prepared duffle bag, and he slung it onto his shoulder and headed back into the burning building before wrapping the duster back around himself and exiting to the roof. It was a short jump to the next sniper perch.

“20,” he holstered his revolver and unslung the rifle, laying down on the roof and looked back down on the tank. The good news is that he had gotten at least half of them to follow, the bad news is there was still no word from Willow.

Then he saw her, she moved in from behind while they were all looking at the smoking beacon Matt had painted in the sky. She knifed a guy, stealthily pulling him behind a half wall before using the tank itself as a source of cover. She placed C-4 charges around the wheel hubs and in critical points on its hull.

Another gift from the last caravan, they seemed to have quite the stash of explosives, well had.

It was Matt’s and Willow’s now.

As he was watching her work he was also keeping his eyes on the five remaining guys , and when one went to turn around Matt opened fire, the round hit the man directly in the temple, causing the entire top of his head to disappear into an explosion of red colored paste and viscera.

The four remaining guys all dove for cover, unfortunately for two of them; Matt had the advantage of height so he could see over the shabby improvised cover. The world shudder twice more as the rifle kicked and two more men’s faces were reduced to unrecognizable puddles. The last two, were quickly dispatched by Willow from behind.

“17, 17 bullets left.” He called out to her, she was a mere 30 feet below him, and she heard his words easily.

“I still have 45, hah, I win this round.” She said, as she took cover and pushed the button for the explosives. The tank and truck were reduced to a smoldering heap in a flash of light.

“Beautiful,” he laughed, “Someone should paint a picture.”

“I aim to please!” She laughed, giving him a thumbs up. He stood up and returned the gesture with a laugh, and she was about to tell him to get down here when a shot rang out. To her horror she watched as a round ripped through him. The world seemed to move in slow motion as he fell to his knees, before tumbling to his side. “Matt!” she screamed, as her legs surged forward “Matt!”

His vision was darkening, he rolled over and looked towards where he had shot from, grey armor, with a twisted mask. The shooter rested the rifle on its shoulder, and removed its helmet. Long blond hair was released from its confines and piercing purple eyes stared at him, and smiled, before blowing a kiss in his direction and walking off. She could have finished him off; there was no doubt in his mind. With numbing hands he tried to pull his revolver out of the holster, but found he didn’t have the strength to unlatch it.

With a sigh he raised his head and looked at the ruined mess that was the left side that was his chest. He could hear Willow crying his name, as she raced towards him, and he smile. This was the first time he was going to die in this game, he wondered what it would feel like. He laughed, and when he did blood sprayed, showering back down on his face as gravity did what it must. “Touche.” He called out to the sniper, she had gotten him this time, they would have to see how she did next time. With a grunt of pain he closed his eyes, and let death take him.