Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Living the Life ❯ Miscommunication ( Chapter 8 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

By: Smortz

Disclaimer: This story belongs to Smortz. Characters and plot created by me as well

Carlos itched his head while he leaned against the doorway. His eyes watching Quinn turn in her bed. “Say that again?” Ryan asked as he pulled the blinds closed over the brightening sun of the early afternoon.

“Would you please wake Quinn up, she's ordered on the patrol squad,” Carlos repeated as she played with the dog tags in his hand. They weren't special army issued, without ID numbers but it did hold her name and birth date, enough to identify her if need be.

“You wake her up,” Ryan scoffed.

“Still as childish as ever,” Carlos grumbled as he shut the door behind him and trudged over to Quinn's bedside.

“So, what's the news with you two? You haven't left this room yet,” Carlos asked as he fought the binding beads of the necklace, his oversized thumb having a difficult time.

“There is no news,” Ryan growled out.

“Barb was right about that, holy shit,” Carlos murmured before he shook Quinn's shoulder, “Come on, I have your stuff all ready.”

Quinn grumbled out a string of curses before she opened her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” Carlos answered while he helped pull her to sit up. He slid the tags over her head. “Come on,” he ordered.

Quinn sighed and nodded, standing up as he handed her the belt holster. “We've found the hole in the gate, it was reported on the east side of the property, we've got a team ready to fix it, but we don't know how man-“

“Stop talking to me like a solider,” Quinn whispered as she fastened the belt and pushed her Beretta into the empty slot. The other gun holster was filled with a standard issue handgun, “It's creepy.” She added.

Carlos let a light laugh out, “Your job is basic cover fire, shoot them all, we need your aim now that they're running.”

Carlos went back to the rifle leaning against the door as Quinn pulled her hair into a bun, “I'm going to have to cut my hair now that I'm doing all this.”

“Shame to,” Carlos cleared his throat, “It's really sexy with the whole army look going on.”

Ryan scoffed, “Sexier either way.”

“True,” Carlos agreed and her blush made both of them grin before he handed her the rifle, then the ammo cases she stuffed in her pocket. “Ready?” He asked.

“No shoes?” She grumbled, stepping into her aunt's boots, tucking her pants into them and tying them. “Okay,” she muttered. “See you later Ryan,” she called as she left the room with Carlos hopping down the stairs with the rifle over her shoulder. They both entered the cafeteria and the soldier's seemed to peer at her like a pile of meat.

“Woah, Carlos, where'd we get GI Jane?” The question was asked by another soldier looking ready to go as he finished his turkey sandwich and tipped his hat to her with a smirk. “Isn't that gun a bit big for you, honey?” He asked with a smirk.

“I've handled bigger,” she murmured as she snatched a bag of chips.

“What war did you serve? Food wars in the middle school cafeteria?” He joked and she saw Carlos shoot him a glare.

“No war,” she replied turning to hold out her hand, “completely inexperienced when it comes to tactical training, I'm only good at shooting things.”

“Serious? Barb got us a redneck Barbie?” He asked to Carlos declining her hand.

Barb came into the cafeteria and snagged a chip from the bag, “Ready Quinn?”

“Yea,” Quinn grumbled as she followed her aunt out, Carlos beside her. “Don't let Hunter get to you, he's an ass.”

“Fine,” she said as she jumped into the back seat of the car and pulled the assault rifle into her lap, loading it as Hunter jumped into the seat next to her. Carlos rode with Barb in the front, and Chris handed the artillery gun in the trunk.

“So Barb, where'd you find GI Jane?” Hunter asked and Quinn bit her lip to keep from laughing at Barb's dissatisfied look she tossed him.

“You don't remember her, my niece Quinn? The one I told you about? She's the one who handled the M99 better then you,” she replied in confusion as the gate opened and they shot through it. Quinn attached the scope onto the assault rifle.

She reached for the binoculars on her belt as she scanned the area. “This is Quinn? Your niece?” Hunter asked.

Quinn pointed towards the tree, looking up at Chris, “There's a few over there, if you want I can get them but I'm seeing them all over the place, it'd be trouble if they came at us all at once.”

Barb brought the car to a slow stop, and Peter's apache chopper flew over them as if to supervise. “They're all over the place Barb,” Peter's voice came over the radio.

Quinn took that as the engage order as she pushed the assault rifle between her shoulder and cheek, staring into the scope as she tried to aim with the bad scope. She began to fire, the rebound taking her aback from her usual sniper rifle as she watched the group fall to the ground after a couple of seconds.

“Carlos switch seats with Quinn,” Barb ordered and she climbed over the seat and stood on the passenger seat, her barrel setting on the windshield. “Okay go,” she shouted over Chris's firing. Barb hit the pedal as she felt Carlos's hands on her hips to stabilize her.

“They're running at us,” she muttered as she struggled to take aim and shoot.

“Stop them, aim for the legs then,” Barb murmured, but she waited using the tree branch to help with her shots. They fell to the ground and she sighed cracking her neck as she continued shooting.

“You got about ten of them running at you from behind, Chris, over,” Peter warned and the sound of his helicopter gun rang through her ears.

The car came to a stop and Quinn hopped back into the backseat, using Chris's panel to rest the stock of her gun as she traded scopes with her sniper and assault rifle staring through the automatic rifle and firing at the ones still struggling to move from Peter's barrage of ammunition.

Shots behind her reminded her not to turn around, her fingers and eyes moving fast as she tried to keep them all away. “Quinn!” Barb shouted and she nodded her head to alert her aunt that she responded.

“Cover us over here,” Barb let out and Quinn hopped out of the car to gasp in shock.

They were covering the gates like cockroaches would a rotting pizza. A sea of them, all bloodied and inhumane rocking the fence back and forth, Hunter shook his head as Quinn began shooting their heads. “T-This fence isn't going to hold.”

Quinn couldn't help but agree as she stopped to reload her rifle before continuing her killing, watching them place a cut out fence scrap over the hole and connect it with ties.

“Behind you! Quinn, turn and shoot!” Peter shouted.

Quinn hated the fear that crawled up her as she turned around and went to shoot if the stupid zombie hadn't grabbed the barrel of her gun, its other hand coming to snag the shoulder of her tank top pushing her to the ground. Her elbow got wedged between the gun and the ground, her other hand grabbing his neck to keep him at a distance. “Barb shoot him off!” She screamed.

“Close your mouth and eyes,” Carlos ordered, and she hated doing it but the moment she did, blood splattered across her face and she felt a cloth smear across her lips and eyes. “You okay?”

“Fuck I thought that was Peter's job,” Quinn hissed as she stared at the blood covering her but pulled the gun up, her elbow and arm cracking in pain at the gesture as she began shooting the men and woman running at her.

“It was,” Barb growled out angrily as she got on her radio. “What the fuck are you doing Peter? Playing around? Screw up again and you're off the fucking chopper,” she threatened.

The chopper's gun echoed through the forest along with Quinn's as she fought the pain in her arm. Carlos grabbed her wrist. “Stop, Hunter's got it, did it bite you?”

“No,” she said instantly as struggled out of his grip.

Carlos let go as she resumed her shots, her chest throbbing with pain from the sudden attack before Barb sighed, “Done. Let's go!”

She was the first in the van as they got in and Barb ran a group over while Chris began shooting the artillery gun. “We can't go back inside with them behind us, Barb,” Carlos grumbled, “it might take to long to close the gate.”

”Quinn, take over sniper position, I want you to climb the ladder and take over from there,” Barb said, pointing to the side ladder on top of the gate. Quinn gave a quick nod as she put the scope back on to her sniper rifle and pulled it over her shoulder, stepping over Hunter to balance herself out, ready to jump on to the ladder.

Barb came to a stop and she climbed up instantly, pushing a solider accidentally out of the way before she loaded the sniper and aimed for the closest one. It went down after a shot but when it did, she had already moved to a different target as the gate slowly opened.

Barb slid the car through the gate and Quinn was thankful another sniper had begun taking fire like she had as the gate began to close.

It finally slid shut as she waited for them to come to the gate before shooting them easily and turning around.

Four guys were staring at her in awe, binoculars in their hands. She barely contained the shy smile as she slid down the ladder and looked at Carlos. “Thanks,” she mumbled before she was tackled from behind, causing her to drop the gun as Mike hugged her. “Shit I was worried about you, you didn't even say bye you know?”

She turned around to grin but couldn't when he stared at her in shock. “W-What the hell happened to you? Why are you all bloody again?”

A sheepish laugh came from beside her and she pointed at the source, Peter. “He got lazy and I was taken by surprise.”

“Sorry about that Quinn,” Peter murmured, “I can't see in those trees.”

Quinn nodded before she smiled and gave a pat to his shoulder, “No problem, Carlos saved me.”

Said man cleared his throat, grabbing her injured arm as he hopped on to the trunk of the armored car. “Let me see it,” he grumbled.

The inside of her elbow had begun to swell as Mike stared at it, “What exactly happened?”

“Well I was giving cover fire while they patched up the fence, Peter all of a sudden came shouting there was one behind me and when I turned around to shoot the son of a bitch grabbed my gun and took me to the ground. I grabbed his neck to keep him from biting but he used the gun to smash my arm at an awkward angle into the ground,” she explained as Barb handed her a wet rag she used to wipe her face.

Carlos pressed two fingers to the tender joint and she hissed in discomfort, “What the hell?”

“Get some ice on it,” Carlos said with concern and Quinn sighed and nodded, looking for the medical canopy.

She spotted Ryan helping out at it and hitched the rifle on her shoulder as she walked over to it. “Yan I need ice,” she said with a playful smirk.

Ryan looked her over, giving her a bored stare. “What'd you do now?”

“Elbow,” she muttered, “Carlos saved my life though, one of those things attacked me, and it was creepy.”

Ryan sighed, “Should've never joined the squad in the first place, you're too attached to that gun.”

Quinn's eyes narrowed on him as she watched him crush some ice and gather it into a plastic bag. She snatched it from him with a grin. Ryan pulled it back as he grabbed a piece of Velcro gauze.

“Give me your elbow,” he murmured holding his hand out and giving her a very dry looked.

Quinn did as was told, watching him wrap the gauze around her elbow and ice pack. “What's wrong with you Ryan? If it's over the nickname I won't use it,” she said in confusion.

“I don't like it here,” Ryan whispered under his breath, “I'd rather hide then hear gunshots and worry about if there going to infiltrate or not.”

Quinn narrowed her eyes on his horrible lie before he sighed in defeat. “I've never liked Carlos,” Ryan said through the side of his lips, almost pouting, “and he's always watching you.”

She tried to stop the laugh that escaped her, but it escaped anyways. Ryan rolled his eyes angrily, turning around to organize the already organized first aid box. Quinn leaned over the table, “S-Sorry, it's just- I couldn't help it… after last night…”

“Don't bring Mike up or I'll shoot him,” Ryan threatened and she wasn't sure if he was bluffing or not.

“Carlos is more responsible then Mike,” she reasoned.

Ryan groaned, “Don't even think about him, he's… he's muscular and… and his kneecap disappeared whenever he straightens his fucking leg.”

Quinn's laugher rang through the fort, people turning to stare before Ryan narrowed his eyes on her. “Your dad called,” Ryan cut in, “he's hiding at some super market behind his work.”

“Oh? I'll send him a card,” Quinn growled out as she pushed herself off the table. Her feet carried her away as her steps fell heavily with anger. The mere thought of her dad angered her before she felt an arm wrap around her waist, a husky voice enter her ear. “You know, that shirt really makes your boobs look big,” Mike applauded.

“Mike!” She shouted, pushing his arm away. He gave a breath of laughter, “I was going to take a nap, you up for a round before hand?”

She froze in mid-step, the question echoing through her mind, “O-Of course not! Disgusting.”

“Oh, sure got you flustered,” Mike muttered with a smirk, the damned sexy one she'd seen one to many times.

Quinn could only groan in irritation as she turned to head towards the army warehouse, her rifle quipped on her back as she glared over her shoulder at Mike one last time. He waved, waggling his fingers at her.