A Shephard- ZoC Main Story Vol 1 Chapter 9

Part 9 - Rooftop Rendezvous

The man in the green suit jumps at you clumsily, as if to make up for the mistake of waking you. The only thing ready in his hands is a knife. Having no time to adjust your position or swing your rifle up from the waist, you kick desperately as you try to roll.

Your foot connects with his arm, the surprise of which makes him drop the knife as it scatters over the ledge. But his momentum finishes carrying him into you; landing him in a now twisted pile with you. He tries to kick you, but his legs are poorly positioned in this dogpile. You swing your right arm and land a hit on him somewhere, causing him to roll off. But not before he manages to rip away the weapon that was lying between you two.

You realize with horror that it’s still loaded. You scramble in the opposite direction, towards your pack that has your pistol lying on it. He clumsily readies the rife, but before he can even aim it a loud scream enters your ears.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” she wails, Lucy suddenly being in the man’s arms.

You don’t understand, and by the loosened grip of the man, neither does he. Lucky for you, you’ve been a bit hardened to ridiculous phenomena these last couple of weeks, and use the brief pause to reach for the pistol, turning around with it.

“Lucy!” you command

But she doesn’t react, seemingly traumatized. The man too, has come to his senses. You now recognize him as Rusty from yesterday.

He kicks Lucy from behind, lunging her in your direction while she falls to the ground.. Meanwhile he scrambles back, trying to find the rifle that is no longer there.

You use the opportunity and put a trio of round in the center of his body, the dark red spots appearing in stark contrast with the green of his suit. He stumbles back and loses his balance, falling off the ledge. A sickening crunch is heard moments later.

But that’s not what's on your mind right now.

The sobbing woman, who continues to lay face down on the roof.

You approach her, slowly, as you holster your pistol.

“Lucy?” you call out, only to be responded to by more sobbing.

“Hey, it’s okay. He’s, uh,” You look over the edge, noting the corpse sprawled bellow, “gone now.”
Your hand now resting on her shoulder. She flinches, but seemingly has no strength to protest.. You grab her, with little resistance, and try to prop her up.

The best you can manage is lean her against the wall, as she buries her head in her arms. This is a little too familiar, you mentally note.

You squat right before her, hand still on her shoulder.

“You saved my life again, you know. I’m not sure how you’re always there in the nick of time, but I owe you another one.”

Her sobbing lessens, but she refused to poke her head up.

She’s now mumbling.

‘I almost killed you again…”

“What do you mean?” you ask, her statement not making sense but you try to get her to keep talking

“The first time was out of spite. I was tired of killing for that monster. I somehow- I didn't fire. I hated that unfeeling shell of a man... but this time…”

Confused, but you wait in silence. What she’s saying is important to her, so you give her the time to choke back some tears and continue.

“This time, I knew you. You took care of me, not like him. You said you were proud of me, that I was beautiful.”

She lifts up her head, her eyes a odd canvas of red, blue, and white. And they were now looking up at you surrounded by a painfully contorted expression.

“How could I possibly kill the man who, for the first time in my existance, treated me kindly? Even if I was just a broken rifle?”

She just stares, profound sadness in her eyes.

And you stare back. You’re not sure what to make of this now.

A rifle?

It sort of made sense. She would always be around, but you never noticed anyone following you. Her and the rifle were never in the same place. The name. And finally how she suddenly appeared in Rusty’s grip, when the only thing before was the SVD. But you’re still not sure you can accept this, fully. It’s just too odd, nonsensical.

You push those thoughts to the side. Right now, there was the only woman in your life right now who gave a damn about you, wallowing in incredible depression.

You reach out, in an attempt to replicate the warm head pats you received earlier. She still had her mask off, so you moved to remove the hood.

“Don’t!” she cried suddenly, something under her hood twitching as her hands shot up to cover her head.

You recoil as suddenly as she moved.

“...not yet” she mumbles, as her eyes cast downward. The crying was over, but nothing felt resolved.

She must not want anyone to touch her, not after that.

You move back a bit, resting on the corner wall perpendicular to hers.

You’re not sure what to say, so you just stare on in silence. You take off your mask. The noon sun feeling refreshingly warm on your cheeks as you gaze.
“Hey,” you call out, after an indefinite amount of time. Her head peaks up, and then at you. Her faded green uniform looking even brighter in the sun.

“Thank you.” You try your best to smile, given the circumstances. “I’m a blundering fool, to get myself into all of this” you say, now looking off into the distance. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. But apparently you’ve been right there with me. Keeping me out of trouble and the like. You’ve… been there all along, I was just too dense to see it. Probably. So thank you. For saving me.”

You look back at her now. She stands upright, and walks towards your seated position.

She smiles, this warm, a sad smile interrupting her emotionally torn face.

“No.”

“I should be thanking you.”

“ For saving me once more.” she says softly as she seemingly falls into your arms.

But the expected weight of a person never comes.

As you look down in confusion, there lies only your rifle.

Your most trusted companion.

Your SVD.

Lucy.