CHAPTER EIGHT From the beginning... The guns were beautiful really. How a child came across them no one was entirely sure. How he'd gotten caught in such a terrible situation they didn't understand much better. At first glance they could tell that he was skilled. Shooting, point blank and from a distance, without wavering once. He hit dead on the mark just about every time. Missing only once or twice. Having to shoot one of the monsters two or three times because, for some reason, it wouldn't stay down. They'd felt rather bad, just watching from the car as the young man had to shoot several living people. They all knew that said people wouldn't be alive much longer. At least, not alive by normal standards. If you considered moving around, absentmindedly consuming flesh living, then sure, they were just that. But that was all a matter of opinion. The only opinion that matter was that they needed that boy. They needed his help. His expertise. They hadn't expected this.
